Chapter Text
“What happened Tommy?” Philza knelt on the ground, carefully reaching out a hand towards his son and his best friend. He regretted the question as soon as it had left his mouth, obviously he knew what happened.
He, Dream, and Technoblade destroyed L’Manburg, and the boys got caught in the explosions. It was a possibility, a risk that Philza had pushed to the side when they started off that morning… But now, with his son bleeding and broken in front of him… Some of his confidence faded away.
He believed it was the right thing to do. The country corrupted people, had corrupted Wilbur, it needed to be gone for good.
Tommy gasped for air, face covered in surprise that Philza had come down to help him. Another pang of emotion felt like it pierced the older man’s chest.
“He, he’s got all this fucking shrapnel in him, from the explosions.” Tommy rolled Tubbo onto his back, painfully gritting his teeth when he used one of his arms. Philza couldn’t help but try to intercede.
“Tommy, let me fix you up, your arm is broken isn’t it? Let me get you somewhere safe and—”
“NO!” Tommy snarled at him, wincing away from his touch. “Help Tubbo! Please help Tubbo. I can’t… I need him to be alright Phil…” Philza watched as tears streamed down Tommy’s face. His son would never forgive him if he walked away now.
If he walked away again.
In the aftermath of battle, Philza could see more clearly that perhaps L’Manburgs influence wasn’t the only corrupting power in this world.
“Alright.” Philza turned his attention towards the brunette laying on a tattered flag. For a moment he was sure that Tubbo was already dead, that Tommy had dragged a corpse across the battlefield, but as imperceptible as it was, Tubbo’s chest rose and fell. There were dozens of visible wounds, one arm was coated in new burns, undoubtedly Techno’s doing… but nothing that looked like it should be causing the smaller boy to tremble and cough as frequently as he was.
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Philza started bandaging wounds, listening carefully to the way Tubbo’s breath rasped in his chest.
“He had a big puncture wound, on his ribs.” Tommy reached out a hand and pointed at the new scar, pink and smooth. “When I poured a healing potion on it he started screaming then passed out, he was coughing blood too.”
“Shit.” Philza spoke the word without thinking, Tommy’s blue eyes, more grey than he remembered, opened wide in response. He answered the unspoken question. “There was probably a bit of shrapnel in that wound, it got pushed further in when the healing potion did its work from the outside in. And based on where it was… It’s probably in his lung now.”
As if in response Tubbo stirred, gasping for air and writhing unconsciously. Philza tried to hold him still, he needed to move as little as possible.
“Can you save him?” Tommy sounded so desperate, so broken.
“I can try. I will need to remove the shard of whatever is in his system, so his lung can start working like it’s supposed to again.” Philza regarded the injured boy with a certain amount of detachment, as much as he could muster. Likely Tubbo would die in the next few minutes, long before Phil actually had a chance to do anything. Besides that…
Philza’s hands brushed over the pouches on his sides, he had too few healing potions to do this properly. Suddenly having used a bunch of them on mildly injured wolves seemed foolish. His eyes turned towards the cliff face, where Technoblade stared down at him expressionlessly. Philza raised his hand and gestured, wordlessly asking Techno to come down to where he was.
“Tubbo, hey big man, hang in there okay?” When Philza turned back Tommy was leaning over Tubbo, carefully taking his hand and visibly trembling as he tried to offer comfort to his best friend. His son’s best friend who was—dying in front of him. God. Holy shit.
What had he done?
“What’s all this Phil?” Technoblade snorted as he approached, casually hefting a sword on his shoulder, a completely unnecessary threat. Tommy lifted his head to glare protectively at the piglin, fierce despite his injures. Philza doubted the blond could even stand.
“I need your potions, I know you’ve got some.” Philza held his hand out, unsurprised when Techno scoffed.
“For what? Philza, that’s the president, or did you forget?” Technoblade forced a haughty laugh. “He’s laying on the flag if you need a reminder.”
Phil grimaced. He was the president, part of what they came here to destroy. He’s also a person.
He’s a person and he’s Tommy’s best friend. And he’s dying.
“Technoblade, I am going to try to save him, one way or another.” The older blonde’s hand crept towards the magical totem that laid against his chest, his only protection against a permanent death. Techno stiffened, obviously noticing the motion.
“Bruh, come on, let’s just go before anyone else shows up.” Techno sighed in annoyance. “I’m not helping you heal the exact thing we came to destroy, that just doesn’t make sense.”
Philza let his face drop into a disappointed frown. Tubbo’s breathing grew less steady by the moment.
“What happened to ‘For you the world, Phil’?”
A heavy silence fell over them both. Technoblade just stared for a long moment, a trace of hurt in his eyes, something only Philza himself would notice. Then the piglin relented, sheathing his sword and handing Philza a whole bag of potions and medical supplies.
Philza found a regen potion and propped Tubbo upright, shaking him lightly, then tapping on his collarbone when he didn’t get a response. Tubbo coughed and stirred, eyes flickering open and shut. He was conscious enough to drink it, and that’s what mattered. Philza gently laid him back down, not missing how Tommy’s eyes followed his every move.
“Tech, can you treat Tommy’s injuries?” Philza was half-certain Technoblade would just walk away, still stinging from the perceived betrayal that Tommy had inflicted upon him at the community house. Instead the piglin walked around Tubbo, refusing to even glance at the brunette shivering on the ground, and crouched down next to Tommy.
He silently reached out a hand and started examining Tommy’s injuries. Philza knew Techno would help Tommy, if only for Phil’s sake. Still, he flinched when Tommy cried out in pain, Techno firmly gripping his leg and setting the bone.
Philza shook his head and forced himself to focus. He laid out everything he would need, lastly drawing a small knife and taking a deep breath.
The possibility that Tubbo would die by his hand was paralyzing. The knowledge that it was his hands that had done this was painful.
Philza forced himself to press through the fear. He made an incision above the scar, pushing the knife in deeply on the first go, holding a rag around the edges tightly to reduce blood loss. A pair of pliers were at the ready, pulled from Techno’s medical kit. Tubbo jolted, jerking upwards and gasping dangerously. Philza had to pause what he was doing to grab his shoulders and hold him down.
“Tubbo! Phil what are you doing?!” Tommy tried to weakly shove him away, doing what he thought was protecting his friend. It was easy enough to keep him at bay.
“I’ve got to get the shrapnel out Tommy, it won’t heal if I don’t.” Tommy backed off slightly, but Tubbo continued to writhe and sob. His dark blue eyes were open, though Philza was certain he wasn’t aware of what was happening. All the boy knew was that he was being hurt, that he needed to fight back. He didn’t know that he was preventing the only thing that might save him.
“Tech…” Philza didn’t want to ask more of him, he knew he was already pushing it by having him splint Tommy’s bones, but…
There wasn’t much of an option.
Techno reluctantly moved closer, glaring daggers at Phil as he helped hold Tubbo down, pinning him to the ground none-too-gently. With Tubbo restrained Philza got back to work, carefully, precisely, getting the pliers in next to the knife. If he withdrew the blade now Tubbo would bleed out in moments. He had to get the shard of wood out first.
But finding it… through blood and flesh…
“Stay with me Tubbo, please, just listen to my voice big man, stay here.” Tommy pleaded as Tubbo’s breathing grew ever fainter. Likely both his lungs were collapsed, but the other one could be healed with potions, if he lived long enough.
“Dammit.” Philza had briefly found the piece of shrapnel with the edge of the knife, but he couldn’t locate it when it mattered.
Tommy’s pleading grew into sobs as Tubbo stilled, all the fight seeming to leave his body at once as every ounce of energy went towards taking gasping breaths, trying to get enough oxygen to sustain life.
There!
Philza grasped the offending spike with the pliers, making sure he had a proper grip before adjusting. One hand found a potion, the bottle having a long neck for pouring into puncture wounds just like this one. The other held the pliers and knife handle in a white-knuckled grip. A cloth sat at the ready. A deep breath.
“Hold him still.” Philza withdrew the implements in as fluid of a motion as he could manage, gasping despite himself when he saw the nearly six-inch long shard of wood that had been imbedded in Tubbo’s chest. They were tossed to the side as he poured the healing potion directly into the wound, pressing a cloth to it firmly as soon as the bottle was empty. Blood soaked into the fabric instantly.
“Keep breathing, you can do it Tubbo, don’t leave me now big man…” Tommy held Tubbo’s hand in his own, tears dripping down his face as Philza worked to stop the bleeding. “Please don’t leave me.”
Another regen potion. More healing potions—
The next minutes were filled with frantic activity, trying to help the boy who was holding onto life by a thread. Philza imagined he could see it. The fragile string of life trying to slip away, Tommy grasping the glowing thread with desperate fingers, trying to force his friend to stay with him.
Finally Tubbo’s breathing evened out. It steadied. Philza released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Tommy seemed to realize at the same time Phil did, suddenly dropping to his side on the filthy flag, holding Tubbo close, relief flooding his features. With the knowledge that Tubbo would be alright the last of Tommy’s energy seemed to leave him.
“Mmm thank you Phil.” Tommy murmured the words softly, one arm and both legs now wrapped in splints and bandages. Philza opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.
He had done this after all.
He wasn’t… just because he had done one good thing didn’t mean he was fit to take care of them now.
It didn’t mean that at all.
Technoblade seemed to agree, gathering up some of their supplies and heading towards the cliff face without a word. Philza spread his wings to follow, then hesitated. He turned back towards the two boys for a moment longer, both laying on the uneven ground, seemingly already unconscious.
“I’m sorry Tommy.” He didn’t get a response. He didn’t expect one.
When Philza lifted into the air he took a short detour before going back to the cabin he and Techno shared.
The two figures he searched out were defensive and surprised to see him, but both rushed towards the crater once he told them the boys were there, alone and vulnerable.
Philza was confident that AweSamdude and Puffy would take care of them.
They would probably do a better job than he would.
Who was he kidding, they certainly would do a better job than him.
His heart ached as he recalled Tommy’s shout, his voice broken and terrified, when he first caught his attention from the newly-formed cliffside.
Dad.
He didn’t deserve that title.
Philza knew that now. He knew… he had screwed up.
Maybe someday… somehow… maybe he could set things right.
But he was confident about one thing. Responding to Tommy’s cry for help, saving Tubbo, those were steps in the right direction.