Chapter Text
At the exact moment that the master raised their knife, there were two things that Technoblade realized.
The first thing he realized was that - if he did nothing and allowed it to happen - he was going to die.
This realization was not foreign to him. Countless times over he had stared death in the face, brushed with it close enough to feel the cold touch of the void leave pinpricks on his skin. And always, Technoblade had escaped that grasp. Sometimes by margins big enough to have laughter bursting in his chest with the absurdity of the failed attempt, while at other points he had only narrowly strayed from the passing, the ghost of it too real to ignore.
But never had he allowed it to sink its teeth in and stay his heart for good.
Which was the second thing Technoblade realized. Grotesquely, shamefully, he became aware of how much he wanted to continue living.
Maybe as little as a few hours ago the master could have come to his cell and dug the knife in between his ribs with little resistance. Maybe Techno would have allowed them to carve out what remained of his soul if it meant all other suffering would end and he didn't need to be as exhausted anymore. When in a dark crevice of his mind he had thought that the most important parts of him had already been killed and all they'd be doing was finishing what they had started.
Now, the echo of Phil's voice ran fresh along his nerve endings and Technoblade knew he had no choice but to stay alive.
He wanted to leave. He wanted to continue hearing Phil laugh at his sarcastic comments. He wanted to continue going on adventures with Ranboo. He wanted to continue tasting all of Niki's baking. And he wanted to go home.
When the knife started its descent Technoblade threw his fist in a desperate bid for survival. It barely connected with the master's shoulder, sliding off their silken clothing. But they hadn't seen it coming – had taken him as docile enough to be finished off easily – so his punch threw them off-kilter. Techno gasped as the blade dug into the upper part of his chest, near his armpit.
Face contorted in anger, they pulled it out with a wet squelch. Again they aimed for his throat but this time Techno brought his arms up in a cross shape in front of himself, blocking their attack and catching their wrist. He pushed them back and barely even noticed when blood started soaking into his shirt. His heart was pumping fast enough that the rushing in his ears overtook the voices, blurring his senses into pinpoint precision. He wanted to live and he was going to fight for it.
They recovered quickly and came at him snarling. A vicious kick to his knee managed to send a jolt of pain through Techno's entire body despite the persisting numbness. The subsequent paralysis allowed them to crouch down on him, their leg pressed into his stomach in a way that made every wheeze strain his lungs. Their fingers clawed at his hair as they spit out their rage.
"After everything! Everything I fucking did for you! And this is how you thank me?!"
Technoblade grabbed their shoulders on instinct, tapping into some unknown deposit of raw power he thought long depleted to tighten the muscles in his back. Knowing he would never have the strength to force both his own weight and theirs upright, he aimed the momentum sideways instead, rolling over onto his uninjured side. They grunted as he forced them against the ground and switched their positions, elbows suddenly caging them in on either side of their head. The knife fell from their hand and skid across the stones. Techno didn't give it any notice.
The master was pinned beneath him, their jerking attempts to escape futile against his hold and Technoblade saw the moment their eyes widened, the moment they realized the situation they had allowed themselfs to be put in.
In the end, they had still gravely underestimated him.
Technoblade stared at them, blood dripping from his wounds and sweat soaking his clothes. Pain tingled across every inch he was made up of, but Techno didn't flinch – didn't blink. Their irises were pale and depthless, a face with none of the compassion or mercy Techno had tricked himself into believing was there a mere day ago.
And he despised himself for it, the shame burning brighter in his heart once more.
"Pet," they said softly, dangerously close to a whisper. Their bottom lip trembled. "What do you think you are doing?"
Technoblade hated the effect those words could have on him. How his body subconsciously screamed out for him to hunch in on himself, make himself smaller, hide away. He was scared, frightened to death of the man restrained under him with pathetically thin angles and open palms. Looking at them was enough to make breathing difficult, make his mind scramble for distance.
He curled his fingers around their throat to cut off any further speaking.
They gurgled at the pressure, hands trying to reach up and pry him off but Techno put more of his weight down on them to keep them still. Smothered pleas were starting to pour out from between the choking, spitting with anger. Spitting with fear.
"S-stop-" They reached out for a leash that wasn't there anymore, anything they could use to bend him to their will again. "Please-"
Technoblade broke their begging by pulling them up by their throat and slamming them back into the floor, the crack of their skull against stone deafening in the hushed room. They sputtered and cried and so Technoblade did it again, and again, and again. He did it until there was no sound coming from their mouth anymore, only blood.
And the instant relief of silence.
He was reminded of the men and the woman he had killed. The boy with dirty blonde hair and the dog, but Technoblade couldn't weep for any of them.
He didn't know how long he sat there for, fingertips pickling with a lack of sensation after he kept them pressed into their throat for too long. When he pulled them back the bruises were pale and already fading, their chance to blossom fully snuffed out by him killing the stranger so quickly their blood flow had no chance to catch up.
They were dead.
They were dead and Technoblade was alive. A pet without their master.
He felt too cold to move but the thought of sitting there with their corpse growing stiff against him was worse still. Techno turned around and looked at the open door. With small exhales of pain he grabbed the wall and pushed himself up on his feet.
His broken kneecap protested, the damaged ligament being unable to straighten made it impossible for him to use his leg properly. But he could make do with minimal support, not caring for the pulsing hurt it caused him. He'd bear it for as long as it would take for him to get out. The stairs were the hardest part, often making him stop to rest through the sickness and the spinning in his head. The chest wound was sluggishly bleeding through his shirt, torrents of it that should probably concern him.
Technoblade kept walking.
He made it to the door and then through the hallway. The wind that met him outside might as well have been a punch to the face what with the force it hit him. His entire body was shaking from a combination of pain, fatigue and psychasthenia. Still, he didn't feel like he'd be able to stop even if he wanted to.
The sky was dark with stars dotted along every direction. What stood out most bluntly was a disc of white that made up the full moon, hanging halfway above the horizon. How long had it been since he had seen something as beautiful? Techno couldn't tear his gaze away, and even less so when a dark speck he had mistaken for one of the moon's many craters grew ever bigger, moving in slight currents up and down.
He recognized the billow of wings batting urgently from a distance seconds before his leg finally gave out beneath him, making him collapse onto the ground. Techno didn't care though, pushing his forehead against the soothing chilliness of the courtyard and laughing.
Between broken sobs, he waited for Phil to reach him.
There were no words to describe what had gone through Phil when the communicator cut off.
Really, there were no words to describe any of this: losing someone you cared so much about you would stop the world from turning on its axis if they had asked you to, giving up hope that you would ever get them back and being prepared to sell your soul to the devil if it could help them. Then when you finally could feel the promise of their return at your fingertips, having it ripped away again so boldly.
Phil had always hoped that if the world was governed by gods, they would be less cruel than mortals.
Technoblade's pained yelp had struck him to the bone, something wet and desperate in it that made Phil ache. Ache to find whoever had caused it for the sole reason of returning the favor tenfold, maybe hundredfold if fate would allow it. But instead, he had been helpless to do much of anything as the line went dead.
He was already flying far ahead of Ranboo, knowing the other hybrid would find where to go and have no trouble catching up with him in due time. Flying was only a smidge faster – though something told Phil that those few minutes could make all the difference here. It hammered at his brain and he repeated it to himself, that there was time. There was always time.
He could get there and still be in time.
What came into view was halfway between a box and halfway between the ugliest excuse for a castle Phil had ever seen. Not for the first time since Dream supplied him with information did he wonder who the fuck this person thought they were and how this had been allowed to slip by everybody's notice. It was a mystery he could set himself to at another time, however. Right now the only thing he cared about was what he would find once he got there.
Slowing down as he approached the parapets, Phil was weary for an ambush, or any kind of defensive precautious that a base such as this could have taken. There was nobody that he could see, least of all an archer with the skill to pick him from the sky. Still, Phil stayed cautious and hovered one hand over the weapons Dream had advised them to bring.
Until he became aware of the slumped shape lying in the middle of the courtyard. Then, all precaution was thrown away and he swooped down, heedless to any more danger as the urge to get Technoblade safely in his arms overwhelmed all else.
His name fell from Phil's lips like a litany as he held him, hands careful where they touched a body so much thinner and lighter than he remembered. Phil committed to memory all the scars he would need to take vengeance for later while he whispered reassuring nonsense into Technoblade's ears.
"I'm here," is what he settled on eventually when he noticed the way Techno's fingers curled tighter into his coat at the words. Clutching like a lifeline, afraid to let go. "I came to get you, Tech, I'm here."
"I know," Technoblade said, quiet but content. His face titled against Phil's chest, seeking his comfort. "I knew you'd come."
Phil nodded, not wanting his voice to betray him. He shifted Techno into laying against him in a way that wouldn't further injure his leg, using one hand to slow the bleeding of his shoulder. Breathing slowly to the tune of Techno's heartbeat, thrumming alive and unyielding against Phil's own chest.
In silence, they waited for Ranboo to arrive. Then they could finally go home.