Chapter Text
Morning couldn't have come sooner.
Techno had assumed his rightful place at Phil’s side, but with nowhere else for Tommy to sleep it meant that the three of them were sharing the two beds, and as Phil soon realised, when Techno was a kid he did not take kindly to others sharing him.
Phil ended up in the middle with Tommy on his left and Techno on his right, and even still they somehow managed to get into a fight over who deserved to throw their unwanted arm over Phil’s face.
Needless to say, he hadn't slept too well that night, but he’d take any amount of bad sleep over Tommy trying and failing to make a plan about how they were going to tackle the day ahead of them.
“Okay, we need a plan,” Tommy said, ignoring Phil’s carefully thought out, considered, and already discussed plan.
“I had one,” Phil said, “where you go to the nether.”
“I’m not allowed in the nether.”
“You’re not allowed here either but that didn’t stop you before.”
Tommy paced from one side of the room to the other, totalling a distance of around three feet, before he turned back and went to the other wall. Phil watched from where he was sat on the bed, the panelling pushed out the way so that his feet could stay on the floor, and Techno had his chest and head in his lap. It was a bit like owning an overly large dog, only heavier and far more loyal, if that was possible.
“Look, Phil,” Tommy said, “I can’t go. If Dream finds me he’ll kill me, and I can’t stay if you go because Techno will kill me instead, which is far worse because he’ll probably eat me.”
At the mention of his name Techno looked over to Tommy and stared, his ears pulled back from his face in a way Phil could only call apprehensive, but apparently Tommy thought meant violence. He clambered on top of the chests on the far wall. Techno curled in on Phil again, and the man put a hand on the piglin’s shoulder in a way he hoped was comforting.
“Techno can’t go to the nether,” Phil said, “You’ve seen the way child piglins cling to their parents, right? If they stray over to one that isn’t their parent then the adults get violent. I don’t want to drag Techno into that.”
“Oh as if he’d leave your side. He’s closer to you than he is to potatoes and we all know how much he likes those. More than me, if you can believe it.”
“I can.”
“And,” Tommy declared, “What’s all this about you caring for Techno’s safety all of a sudden? He still has a knife!”
“He’s cut himself less on it than you have,” Phil said mildly.
Phil ignored Tommy’s no doubt cutting response (if a knife made of wood could cut), but he thought a little more on the matter. The facts were simple. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be there, and he wasn’t supposed to be in the nether, either. If he was caught in the nether by someone he’d be either killed or hunted, becoming stranded or leading the hunters back to Phil and Techno’s home in the process, and if Tommy couldn’t find the warped fungus or didn’t make it back with it at all then Phil would have to go out anyway. There was also the problem of Dream promising to come back at some point that day to have a look around specifically for Tommy, which, needless to say, was very bad indeed.
Yet, if Phil were to go to the nether, with or without Techno, then Tommy would be left in the house alone. Again, if Dream showed up, Tommy would have to hide out of sight. If Phil left Techno behind like he wanted to, the piglin would no doubt get upset and cry again. There was no winning.
Unless…
“Tommy,” Phil said, snapping the younger man out of his ramble.
“huh?”
“Put this on.”
Phil started taking off his heavy green coat before he handed it over to Tommy, then took off his hat and handed it to him as well. Tommy, without prompt (and probably to be intentionally annoying), put the coat and hat on. Techno woke up, blinked, looked at Phil and pulled his hooves back. With a snort, Techno looked between Phil and Tommy, who was still admiring ‘his’ new coat, before he got off the bed and wondered over to Tommy on the other side of the room.
Tommy dodged Techno’s reaching hoof with a yelp, and Techno reached again. Phil watched them lead one another around the room, sitting on the bed in his jumper, trousers and gloves, and he laughed.
“Okay,” Phil said, “I have a new plan.”
“I don’t like this already,” Tommy told Phil as Techno clung to ‘his’ new coat, “I don’t like this at all.”
Other than being double his age, Phil thought he looked alright in Tommy’s dirty shirt and Techno’s blue coat, even if they were a little short on him (in the case of the shirt) and heavy (in the case of the coat).
Tommy didn’t look half bad either, with his quiff of hair tamed and downtrodden and Phil’s jumper a little too big on him, but so long as he could do the voice he made a pretty close resemblance to the older man, other than the frown.
“Chin up,” Phil said, “You did say that you wanted some new clothes.”
“New, Phil,” Tommy said with Techno’s hoof in his hand, “not yours.”
“You look fine,” Phil told him and went to pick up his bag of tools, before he headed over to the chest for supplies.
Techno was looking between them like he didn’t know what to think, like he thought Tommy was Phil but also that Phil was still Phil. So where did Tommy go? Phil smelt like Tommy, but definitely wasn’t, and Tommy smelt like Phil, but also wasn’t. His hoof shifted in Tommy’s hand.
“I’ve got my remote radio,” Phil said, slipping it into his ear, “and the one on the table is attuned to it, you’ll just need to speak to Eret to get a connection through to me.”
“God, table-top radio,” Tommy said with a roll of his eyes, “how old are you?”
“Old enough to tell you to shut up. I’ll hopefully be back before Dream gets here. If he comes when I’m still in the nether tell me and then pretend to be asleep or something.”
“I want to one-up him,” Tommy said, “I’ll pretend to be you, I’ll tell him to get off my lawn.”
“The lawn is covered in snow,” Phil said, pulling his readied bag onto his back, “and don’t cause trouble. You’re re-imbursing me for everything you break.”
“I’m not going to break anything,” Tommy said with Techno’s hoof in his, “and you’re not going to charge me either.”
“It’s three gold per night here.”
“Do you take I.O.U.s?”
The nether sucked.
There was no other way to put it. On a server so populated and so heavily used, the nether became a dumping ground of ender chests, stray blocks and bridges to nowhere, and even as far out of the way as Phil and Techno’s house was, there was still evidence of other people being around the area that the portal was hidden in. Phil ditched his coat upon entry, for while the nether was dry it didn’t lack anything in heat, even if Phil wasn’t feeling it so close to the portal out. The coat would be a nice reminder that it was cold before going back through the portal, however, and a marker to show he had been there if someone came looking. They might think it was Techno, he supposed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.
Tommy’s shirt had holes in it too, which Phil put his thumb through as he looked around the entrance to the cave the portal was in, but without seeing anyone he edged his way out and into the nether wastes. His feet sweated in his golden shoes.
It was just a normal nether trip, aside from him wearing Tommy’s shirt, but even then you could hardly see it beneath the armour. The wastes he entered were wide and with a fairly low roof, picked free of glowstone and gold, but with a few quartz deposits remaining in the floor. There was a bridge, stretching out in the distance and trailing along the ceiling, but it stopped in the middle of nowhere – no doubt where someone had fallen. The smell of sulphur and ash in the air was strong, mixed with the heady smell of decay from the nearby crimson forest, and while Phil knew that the easiest place to get the warped mushrooms was in the warped forest over a thousand blocks away, he made his way towards the crimson forest, hoping that one or two stray warped fungus poked their way out of the earth. The last time he went there, hoglins protected any way he could see inside, so it was worth checking before he made the trek out to the warped forest.
Tommy sat on the only stool in the house, Phil’s coat wrapped around him and feeling pretty warm as Techno decided whether or not it would be a good idea to kill him.
The piglin child was watching him from a couple of feet away, eyes narrowed and with his knife thankfully hidden under his shirt, but the fact that he still had it was worrying enough. Phil hadn't taken it away, partly because he hadn't tried and partly because Techno wouldn't let him get close with Tommy’s shirt on him, but in the end it hadn't really mattered too much to the older man. If anything, Techno’s aversion to strangers was a positive.
“So why don't you talk?” Tommy asked for lack of anything better to say, and Techno looked at him.
When the piglin turned his head his ears swung in front of his eyes, and if Tommy didn't know better he’d call it cute. Techno didn't respond though, too busy side-eyeing him.
“You can understand me, right? Like, you can nod your head if you were to say ‘yes’.”
A pause. A slight nod from Techno.
Even though he was probably about five years old, it was hard to tell why exactly he didn't speak. He could snort, make other noises and understand them, but when it came to actual communication the piglin was useless.
“So why can't you talk?”
Since he wasn't given a yes or no answer, Techno just stared at him.
But then Tommy heard shoes crunching on snow, the sound of someone coming up the steps, and finally a knock on the door. He stared at Techno, who stared back, before the piglin went to grab his knife from the bed. Tommy tried to stand but found himself weak. He couldn't just ignore it – Phil had agreed to meet with Dream, and Dream wasn't someone to go away when it seemed like no one was home.
He took a deep breath, looking over to where Techno had situated himself in the corner with the knife, and then stood up to answer the door.
“Oh, uh, hey Dream!”
Tommy tried to be chipper, but not too much, and he realised in that moment that he probably should have tried to put on an accent or deepened his voice or something, since Dream had been looking away and his mask snapped to attention when he spoke up. The man’s face was impossible to read, and Tommy took care to keep the door closed slightly to stop the angry piglin child from rushing through with his knife.
“Hi Phil,” Dream said, and it sounded like he was putting it on to please him, “Is Tommy here?”
“Nope,” Tommy decided against putting on a voice since he’d already spoken, “Just me and the kid.”
“So you’re okay with me coming in, right?” Dream sounded sarcastic, “Not going to send me off with the cheap excuse of potion brewing this time?”
“Nope,” Tommy said, kicking the door open.
When he did however, his leg stayed out over the threshold, at knee height. Dream’s mask looked at his leg, then to Tommy, and just as he was about to say something a piglin child with a knife rammed into his leg and squealed. Dream stepped back in shock, but Tommy just tried to act as natural as possible as he pulled Techno by his shirt back into the house. It wasn't easy – he was three feet of pure anger and muscle – but eventually he was sitting beside the radio with the piglin desperately trying to claw to the front door.
“Uh,” Dream said, “That’s your new kid?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you sure that’s not Techno’s kid, Phil?”
“What makes you say that?”
Tommy said it around a strained laugh, and Techno’s sharp little hooves dug into his leg as he tried to get to the green man. Dream just tilted his head at the piglin, then looked at Tommy who shrunk back at the mask’s sharp gaze.
“No reason,” Dream said, “How about you keep her under control while I look around? You don't need to come with, seeing as you obviously have no one – I mean. Nothing to hide.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep this one under control,” Tommy said, “and he’s, well, he’s a he.”
“The piglin?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks female to me,” Dream said, gesturing with a limp hand at Techno and the piglin growled, “the ears – I’m surprised you don't know this, actually – If the ears are floppy like that it usually means they're female.”
Tommy looked at the seething piglin, at how he was somewhere between crying and flaying Dream alive, and he hesitantly put an arm around him. Dream just ignored them and went over to the chests. He didn't check through their contents, only dragged them off their pile and looked inside to make sure no one (or rather, Tommy) was in them, and then left them for Tommy (or rather, Phil) to put back later. As he moved around the room Techno seemed to lose all fight in him and instead tucked himself between Tommy, who was sitting on the stool near the radio, and the wall. Dream left the front door open.
“You know, Phil,” Dream said as he inspected the brewing stand, still filled with the potions Phil had been brewing earlier, and Tommy tried not to sweat as he picked it up, “I wanted to ask your advice about something.”
“Y-yeah?” Tommy tried not to hesitate.
“It’s a bit… sensitive. I’d appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone.”
“Yeah, no, king of keeping secrets, me. What did you want to ask?”
“Well, you know how you’re like, I don't know, the ‘dad’ of the server? It’s that kind of advice, if you get me.”
Tommy tried not to squirm as Dream’s mask turned to him. The green man took a heavy seat on one of the boxes beside the brewing stand. Tommy just hummed in response and wished Dream would hurry up.
“I, uh, I wanted to ask your advice about George, actually.”
Tommy had a million thoughts fly through his head, unintelligible.
“Uh-huh…?”
Dream sighed. Tommy shifted. Techno rubbed his hand over the knife.
“Well, I guess I’ll just ask straight up since I think you’ll know better than anyone else, Phil. How do I ask someone out?”
Tommy paused. He thought long and hard and rejected any of the thoughts that came fourth. Ultimately, he had one option and he asked himself; what would Philza do?
“Fuck off , George!” Phil shouted, pulling himself further up the crimson vines as George tried to poke him, “I just need a warped fungus and I’ll be gone! Poof! You don't need to pester me!”
George scowled at him, his mouth small as he pulled it tight and debated what to do about the man in the tree, too far up to poke with his sword. Behind his glasses, Phil could hardly see his eyes, but without a doubt in his mind he could see the rusty cogs starting to turn as George tried to figure out how to climb a tree. It wasn't exactly hard, but then again, George always did seem to find a way to make simple tasks more difficult.
“Dream was looking for you, Tommy,” George said, looking up at him, “It’s not like I’m about to let you go.”
“Would you do anything Dream said?” Phil asked, looking down at him from the tree, “Would you spawn a Wither in your own house? Would you kill Sapnap?”
“I’m sure Dream would have reasons for asking me to do that,” George defended.
The next swipe of his sword cut the vines below where Phil clung to, and the older man would fall a good three metres or so before hitting the ground. Then again, cutting the vines also meant George couldn't get to him, so the man’s solutions to getting at Phil had just become harder than they needed to be. If Phil’s arms were not getting so tired from clinging to the remaining vines, he might have laughed or stuck his tongue out, but as it stood he just wanted George to go away. Were there even original thoughts behind those glasses? Probably, but it was honestly hard to tell sometimes.
“Will you go away?” Phil asked from the tree, “Don't you have better things to do? Things to destroy?”
“I need to bring you to Dream,” George said, “He was looking for you.”
There was obviously something going on here, Phil realised. George was someone to give up the ghost if he knew it was more work than it was worth, and while his ‘man-hunts’ (whatever those were. Understanding euphemisms was never Phil’s strong suit) that he went on were no doubt difficult, there was the promise of a rewarding end if he caught up. Usually he was less interested in stuff that didn't have an obvious end goal.
Unless…
“Hey,” Phil shouted, already feeling like an asshole, “Dream won't like you if you bring me in, you know.”
George looked up at him, taken aback.
“Huh?”
“He won't like you, or love you, whichever. He won't. He’ll just take me and do… something. Probably imprison me or exile me again, and he won't give you a second glance. Sad, huh?”
George adjusted his footing, glaring at him up in the tree as he pointed his sword at him.
“Dream isn't interested in you like he is in me,” George said, but his brave face failed when Phil scoffed.
“Yeah, he sure isn't,” Phil shouted down at him, “He’s more interested in finding me than he is in spending time with you! He probably doesn't even like you!”
George had his mouth open in disbelief now, staring up at Phil as if he was revealing some grand truth about the universe, or at least as if he was trying to confuse him by asking some simple maths questions. George wasn't dumb, he was just… blindsided, sometimes, and Phil took full advantage.
“Yeah, it’s obvious he doesn't care as much about you as he does me,” Phil said, letting go with one hand to gesture dramatically to the crimson forest surrounding them, “because if he cared about you he’d be with you.”
“He’s a busy guy.”
It sounded weak to Phil’s ears, and with aching hands from gripping the vines he knew he was finally getting somewhere with this act he was putting on. George was nearly ready to hear Phil's offer.
“He’s too busy with other people to be with you,” Phil said, and he felt like a dick when George’s face crumbled, btu sometimes your hand is forced.
George took a step back from the base of the tree, then another one, and before the other man could talk he spoke up.
“If Dream really loved you he’d let you bring him to me,” Phil said, “If he really loved you he’d kiss away your tears, and I’m being real here, he’d never do that. He’d see you cry and he’d not even ask what was wrong. He’d look the other way.”
“He’d care!” George shouted at him, and yep, the tears Phil had been looking for were there, “He’d care enough to come here, and he’d care enough to – to ask me what’s wrong!”
“Then go get him, prove me right when he doesn't even look at you, or prove you right when he finally finds his balls and asks you out!” Phil shouted at him, “Go get him! I’ll wait here!”
“Tommy, you are such a – ugh!”
George wiped his face with his sleeve as he dashed off into the forest, and Phil held his breath for thirty seconds, listening to the sounds of the nether to see if he’d have any more unwelcome visitors before he breathed a sigh of relief. No more human-made noises. Now all he had to do was keep an eye out for a warped mushroom and see if Tommy had radioed him if Dream arrived prematurely.
Dream wasn't leaving the room, Tommy couldn't tell Phil that Dream was there, and worst of all, Techno was getting fussy.
“It’s just, ugh,” Dream said, content to be in his own head as Techno tried to decide if Tommy was Phil or if he was Tommy, and subsequently, if he should stab Tommy, “George is so hard to read. He’s impossible. I keep trying to work up the nerve to ask him but he never seems to let me.”
“I think,” Tommy said, trying to think about how Phil would work through this, “you should just tell him.”
“But there’s never a good opportunity.”
“I know,” Tommy eyed Techno’s knife as the piglin tried to bury himself in Tommy’s, Phil’s, coat, “But you just gotta tell him. It’s not like we have forever, and considering how busy you’ve been looking for me– I mean, Tommy, then he might be getting the wrong impression.”
“How so?”
“Do you spend time with him? Like, not here?” Tommy asked, “Do you just talk anymore? Maybe you should spend time with him, away from here. Without me.”
“Yeah but how, Phil?” Dream sighed like a love sick idiot, “There’s no way I can without words and I suck at that.”
Tommy blurted the first thing he thought of in a very un-Phil-like move.
“Kiss him,” he said, and cringed at the way Dream’s mask snapped to him, seeing without eyes.
Techno buried his snout under Tommy's armpit and wrapped himself further in the coat like a cat trying to hide from the light, and he could feel the piglin’s sharp little hooves digging into his back. Dream shifted on the crate so that he could look at Tommy more fully, and he felt himself shrink under the green man’s invisible gaze.
“What?” Dream asked, “That’ll end so badly.”
“No, but, like, Dream, you should – “ Tommy took a breath, “If you find him when he’s crying, kiss his tears away. It’s, like, romantic and shi– “ Phil probably wouldn't swear, “stuff.”
Dream’s mask looked at him and Tommy shifted. Techno snorted in his coat and peaked out at Dream, his floppy ears and all.
“I mean,” Dream sounded awkward, “What if he’s not into it.”
“Then say sorry,” Tommy shrugged for lack of anything better to say, “and leave him alone, I guess.”
Dream leaned back on the box he sat on, and even though Techno was becoming restless and tried to chew Tommy’s hand off a bit with his developing tusks, he watched as the emotions, thoughts, went over the other man’s face. It was impossible to see, and yet Tommy could almost imagine music playing in the background of his mind as he thought it over. The pause lasted a minute maybe at most, but with the awkwardness and Techno’s insistent chewing, it felt like a lifetime before Dream finally spoke up.
“Well,” he said, “I’ve heard worse ideas, Phil. You really are the dad of the server with your advice, you know that?”
Tommy chuckled awkwardly, feeling Techno suckle on his now bleeding finger, “Yeah, don't I know it.”
Phil hadn't had a radio message to say that Dream had arrived, and with the nether sweating every last piece of his willpower to stay out of him, he went through the portal and out to the frozen wasteland on the other side. Techno’s, his, blue coat was heavy on his shoulders but a welcome addition considering the cold. The warped mushroom smelt funny in his hand, like a mixture of soured milk and old cheese, but it was the smell of victory – even if he managed to get some of the smell on Tommy’s shirt in the process of collecting it. It wasn't his fault, since George had chased him up the tree, but hopefully Tommy wouldn't whine about it.
Only problem was, walking through that portal to the overworld, was coming face to face with a problem.
Dream was facing Tommy at the door to their home, with Techno looking out over the landscape and the younger man obviously uncomfortable, but now that Phil was there, dressed in Tommy’s clothes, alarm bells were ringing in his head. He slipped behind the frame of the portal as a temporary disguise, but when he looked around at what he could hide behind, all he saw was the frozen river and the few, cut reeds along its banks. The treeline was easily five-hundred metres away, and with nowhere else to go, Phil hoped and prayed Tommy either brought Dream away from the house or found an invisibility potion to throw.
The flash of red near the portal caught Tommy’s eye, and just as quickly as he had seen it, he forced his eyes back to Dream to not give away that he’d seen Phil. Techno was still furious at someone else, Dream, being near his home, and yet when Tommy grabbed his hoof to try and hold him back, Techno actually listened. The power that Phil’s coat held was more than Tommy had realised, it seemed.
“And, ugh, yeah,” Dream was saying, “I just really didn't know how to tell him, you know? I appreciate your help, man.”
“It’s cool!” Tommy said, his eyes sliding over to Phil as he ducked behind the portal, “Yeah, it’s cool. Are you going through the nether to get home or – ?”
“Yeah, George was in there, last I checked, so I’ll just be…”
Dream pointed over his shoulder at the portal without really looking, and Techno seemed to understand. Or at least, that’s what Tommy thought Techno was doing when he let go of his hand and took a couple of steps over to Dream.
“Are you saying bye to Dream?” Tommy asked, and he couldn't tell if he wanted the piglin to put his knife to use or not.
“Hey little guy,” Dream said, crouching down to be on the same level as him, “What are you up to?”
But Techno only stopped beside Dream, and without a word, he pointed to the portal.
“You want me to go?” Dream asked.
Techno just nodded, looking over at him with a look Tommy had only seen on his face when the adult-Techno was done with his antics, and he struggled not to laugh as Dream sighed.
“Alright,” he said, standing, “I guess I'll get going then. Oh, and Phil.”
Tommy looked at him, and he hoped he didn't look desperate to get rid of him.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“What’s your kid’s name?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah this is…”
Tommy looked down at Techno, who stared back at him with his big, dark eyes.
“This is Wart.”
“Well,” Dream said as he turned around, “There are worse names.”
Tommy didn't respond, too busy trying to avoid the knife that aimed for his ribs.
“I’ll be off now. See you later, Phil!”
Dream walked off, leaving Tommy to his demise at the hands of Technoblade, and he made his way over the snow and towards the portal without a fault in his step. His stride was easy, thoughts unhindered, and as he came to the portal he didn't hear the desperate scramble of Phil climbing up on top of the portal. Dream waved at Tommy, or rather the figure of Tommy running away from Techno across the land, and disappeared into the swirling mix.
Phil fell down into the snow, face first and with a groan. He was getting sick and tired of climbing things to escape overzealous men with swords.
“Okay,” he said, picking himself up and out of the snow, “Not much longer.”
He gripped the warped fungus in his hand as he made his way over to the house, ignoring the ache in his hands from the climbing and the cold, and he approached Tommy just as he was about to run past.
“Okay,” Phil said, more than aware of how he looked, “I got it. We can sort this out now.”
“Phil!”
“Yes, hello Tommy.”
“Phil, Techno is going to kill me!”
“Don't get blood on my coat, Techno.”
He heard a snort in response and ignored the rest of the commotion as he went inside the brew the clear-all potion. It didn't actually look like Dream had done a proper search, really, with the panelling still in front of the hidden beds and a few chests removed from the stack on the far wall, as if searching for Tommy was really just a front for something else. He didn't pay attention to it though, instead just going over to the brewing stand to put the warped fungus inside and snapped the lid closed. With a heavy sigh, Phill pulled off the netherrack stained shirt of Tommy’s and dumped it in a pile, before he went over to the small clothes chest in the corner to try and find a shirt that wouldn't have blood stains on it at the end of the day.
Might be difficult, he thought, considering Tommy’s rapid-fire apologies to Techno coming from outside.
“What did you even say to him?” Phil asked when the potion was done, coming to sit out on the steps as Techno growled and sat on Tommy.
“Nothing!” Tommy shouted, “I’m innocent! I even look like you, I don't know why he started attacking me.”
“Did he realise you weren’t me?”
“I didn't do anything to give him that opinion. He was upset with Dream at one point and came to me to be, I don't know, coddled or something, and then this! He lost his mind!”
Phil just sighed and he reached forward to grab his hat from Tommy’s head. He shoved it on top of his unruly mop of hair and as soon as he did, Techno left Tommy’s chest and came over to Phil to sit on his instead.
“Yeah,” Phil said with a groan as Techno cuddled up to him, “I missed you too.”
But as Techno settled down, Phil uncorked the clear-all potion and shoved it into the piglin’s snout. As the child retched, he kicked and squealed and tried to force Phil’s hand away, but with as much strength as he could muster, Phil held the potion steady and Techno had no choice but to drink it.
“That’s not the right way to give a kid medicine, Phil!” Tommy seemed shocked as he said it, but he went silent at the glare Phil sent his way. He knew the question the older man was asking, or demanding he respond to, and he stayed quiet as Techno finished up the horrible-looking blue potion.
When the bottle was empty Phil took it from Techno and the piglin scrambled away, past Tommy, and around the side of the house to where the horse pen was. He could hear the piglin sniffling again like he did when he first came across Techno like this, but instead of going to comfort him, he knew Techno would come back and probably thank him. In silence, Tommy looked after where Techno had gone and waited for a moment before turning back to Phil.
“How’d you know the antidote, anyway?” Tommy asked, “You said you had something like this happen before, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Phil said, not pulling his chin from his hand, “I got hit with one, but it was a different potion, one that made me a baby instead of a kid. There’s a different recipe for that one, but it made me brush up on the other potions, too. I’m just glad it wasn't someone like you or Tubbo looking after me.”
“Aww, Phil,” Tommy whined, “Would I not make a great dad?”
“No, no. No, no, no. You’d be awful, are you kidding me?” Phil stood up and walked around Tommy, “Tommy, you might have done well here but would you know how to take care of a kid?”
“No, but do you?”
“No!”
“You had Techno,” Tommy said and turned away, before he finally stood up from the snow angel he had been making and shucked off Phil’s coat. “Yours,” Tommy said, letting him take it.
“Thanks. And hey, no blood. Wonderful.”
“Ugh.”
It came from the stables around the front of the house, and while Tommy stepped forward to go and greet him, Phil grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Let me do this,” Phil said, and stepped around the corner.
He stepped back again almost immediately.
“Yep. Clothes. Hang on.”
“How long was I… a kid?” Techno asked, the cup of warm water and lemon in his hands doing wonders to heat through his hooves.
“Two nights, three days,” Phil answered as he handed Tommy a cup too, “You didn't say a word, and it made it easier for me to pretend you were not, you know, you .”
Techno didn't say anything, too busy looking down at the lemon floating around in his cup to answer, but when he did he looked over at Tommy.
“And you looked after me as well?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Phil, how am I alive?”
“I don't know, Techno,” Phil said with a laugh as he sat on the crate in the corner, “I really don't.”
“Well, okay,” Techno put his head in his hands, floppy ears and all, “Hooray for surviving and all that.”
“Do you remember it at all?” Phil asked, “Anything about who you saw, what I said? I’m just curious.”
“I remember you calling me a wart,” Techno said and pointed at Tommy, “and I remember… basically everything.”
Techno looked away as he said it, his cheeks and snout darkening at the memory of clinging to Phil’s hand like it would stop him from floating away, and while Tommy looked between them like he was trying to read an unknown language, Phil seemed to understand.
“Ah, right,” he said, “Sorry if me calling you my son was too far but – “
“It worked, it’s fine,” Techno said with a wave of his hoof, “it’s a good tactic. Don't worry about it. We don't need to bring it up again.”
Tommy started laughing, but both Phil and Techno ignored him until he spoke up.
“You’re just embarrassed because you enjoyed it!”
Techno snorted, turning to him with fury in his eyes at the accusation. Tommy shrunk back slightly, and he looked smaller than usual since he was still wearing Phil’s shirt, but Techno didn't seem to care.
“No,” he said, indignant, “I didn't. I was like five , Tommy. I was with Phil for the tactical advantage.”
“As if you needed help, you were bloodthirsty even then,” Phil said with a knowing smile, “and besides, what tactical advantage did you get from holding my hand?”
Techno’s ears pressed back against his head as Tommy cackled, but all he did was stand up and grab the laughing man, pulling him outside. Phil couldn't help but laugh as they went outside the house, and as the doors closed behind them the laughter got quieter, even if it didn't stop. Tommy smirked at him, as if he had anything to be pleased about.
“Okay,” Techno said when he dropped Tommy into the snow outside, “What do you want that’ll keep you quiet?”
“Let me live here,” Tommy demanded.
“No.”
“Guess I’ll tell everyone, then.”
Techno sighed, “Look, Tommy. You don't get anything from being here.”
“I get to not be with Dream and I get to be with you and Phil,” he argued, and Techno could hear Phil going down into the basement, probably to put away the other two potions or to clean up after Techno’s chaos.
“But Tommy,” Techno said, “Wouldn't you rather have netherite? Or Diamonds? I can get you a perfect horse or an army of dogs who are loyal to you, do you really just want to live in my cramped house? With me and Phil and a thousand other things?”
Tommy seemed to think about it. He thought long and hard about the possibility of just making his own house somewhere nearby, about making another cobblestone tower, about being close enough to see them but not actually stepping on their toes, and he eventually seemed to come to his senses and tell Techno his answer.
“Naw. I wanna live here.”
“You’re impossible,” Techno told him, and Tommy grinned.
But just as Techno was about to say something else, an insult or maybe he was just going to hit him, a crash came from inside the house. Well, it wasn't so much a crash as much as it was a pop, like that of a potion bottle breaking or a red stone lamp deciding to give up, and Techno and Tommy looked at one another.
They went into the house, down the ladder, and into the basement with all the chests. Techno arrived first, sword in hand, and the white witch looked up at him in surprise. It must have snuck in, but Techno didn't think about it before he stabbed at the witch, and as it burst into smoke and a couple of pieces of red stone, Tommy came down the ladder too.
“Oh, great,” Tommy said, looking down at the bundle of cloth that Phil had been wearing before, “Oh this is terrible. This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I don't want to stay here anymore, Techno. You can deal with this alone.”
Techno didn't say anything, but the baby, probably about six-months-old, stared up at them with big, blue eyes. When Techno lowered the sword, the baby put its arms up at him, wanting to be held.
“Goo,” Phil said.