Chapter Text
"Tommy, your report card came in the mail." Technoblade said from the other side of the coach, house dark with only the light from the television illuminating the room. "You're lucky I'm the one who found it and not dad or Wilbur."
"Why haven't you told dad about the test yet?" Tommy muttered, trying not to glance over at his older brother. Cold, he was cold... Five hundred calories were hard to manage each day but it worked out luckily. He clutched onto the quilt tighter, sinking into the couch more as he cuddled himself with the blanket. Hoarding, he knew he was hoarding the blanket he and Technoblade were supposed to be sharing, but it was so cold.
"I can turn on the heater if you want?" Technoblade noted, pushing the rest of the blanket toward Tommy to let him curl up in it. "Tommy, have you had dinner?"
Tommy let out a hum, nodding, watching as the princess started cutting her hair up to disguise as a man. An interesting movie, he had to admit, Technoblade insisted on watching it. Something about nobleness and war? He let out a small huff, Technoblade was both a gym addict and a nerd, wasn't he?
"What did you eat? I haven't really seen you eat anything in awhile." Technoblade asked, fixing his posture and sitting up. He rested his chin against his hand, leaning against himself and observing Tommy with a calculated gaze.
"I just made some eggs on toast, wasn't really digging anything else." He shrugged in reply, nearly gasping at the cold air hitting his skin again as the blanket was thrown off of him and onto the floor. "What the hell!?"
"That's odd, since I remember eating the last of the eggs for breakfast this morning." Technoblade stated, standing up and walking toward the kitchen. Tommy felt his fingers clench, his hand curling into a fist. He remembered there were eggs in the kitchen last time he checked, right?
"Fuck, nevermind. It's so late I forgot, I just had toast with some peanut butter." Tommy corrected himself, he knew there was peanut butter at least.
"I lied." Technoblade said.
What.
What the fuck did that mean?
"Are you done lying to me? You didn't eat dinner, huh..." Technoblade continued. "There are eggs, you keep changing your story."
It had been going so well, but he knew how observant Technoblade was. Knew how much he focused on things. "Tommy, you can't just be skipping dinner."
Oh, he only thought he was skipping dinner. Then it was fine, right?
He heard the fridge open, not bothering to peer over. The sound of shuffling filled his ears before the fridge slammed close. Tommy grabbed the remote and paused the movie, Technoblade slipping back onto the couch and pulling his phone out. He swiped through it, before smiling and tapping a few buttons. He put his finger toward his lips, making a small shush sound. "Don't tell dad."
"For dinner we're getting two magarita pizzas please, large, with a vanilla shake topped with cream and chocolate shake topped with cream and chocolate sauce.. Deserve to pamper ourselves, y'know? Anything else special you want?"
"Wait! That sounds like a lot, I'm not really that hungry!" Tommy gasped, trying to grab the phone away from Technoblade.
"It's already been ordered, don't worry. It's my treat."
No. He couldn't eat that, he couldn't. So many calories, he hadn't even researched calories in pizza but he knew it was a lot. Too much.
Too many calories.
"Are you... Crying?"
Tommy brushed his fingertips against his face, feeling the wet of his tears. He choked on his sobs, trembling, hands practically shaking. He had to shut up, but his mind was screaming danger. The desperate voice of his brother was heard, he could hear him so clearly but not clearly enough. Warmth embraced his entire being, the crushing hug of his brother kicking the cold to the curve. He dug his face into Techno's chest, feeling how his tears wet the man's shirt. No, he had to stop freaking out, but the whispers of reassurance only made him feel worse. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"Toms... You have nothing to be sorry about." Technoblade murmured into his ear, pressing his chin onto the top of Tommy's head and letting Tommy sink into him. "You just have to tell me what's going on, I won't tell Phil or Wilbur. I promise."
"Too many calories, I'm gonna die." Tommy whispered, repeating it over and over, quieter and quieter. He was going to lose everything, nothing will be left- he can't...
"Tommy, explain to me from the beginning." Technoblade pressed the boy's shoulder and pulled him away, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Explain. Please."
"I- It started at the day of my history test, maybe a bit earlier. Probably a bit earlier... There was this forum..."
Phil was quite a composed man, he liked to think he was calm and knew his boundaries. Knew the boundaries of his children, was able to be both chaotic with them and responsible accordingly. He also knew when things were wrong.
He trusted Wilbur at Sally's house, he knew Wilbur wasn't the type to run around and impregnate his girlfriend. He shuddered to imagine it happen, but as long as Sally's father was there he knew nothing would happen. So when he walked into the house and saw Technoblade and Tommy sleeping on the couch, untouched pizza boxes on the kitchen counter, and two straws indicating something was in the fridge, he knew something was wrong. Technoblade hated sleeping on the couch. Even worse, the two barely had any distance to each other, clutching onto each other like their lives depended on it.
The truly concerning thing was the red brimming around both their eyes, showing that they cried. Tommy might have had a breakdown, the boy wasn't the best at controlling his crying, but Technoblade crying?
That wasn't normal. The last time Phil had ever seen Technoblade cry was... Was when he tore the boy's room apart, the boy sobbing and begging him not to go further, begging him not to check that diary full of dark thoughts, begging him not to take away all his sharpeners, sobbing and gripping onto his leg as he pleaded and sobbed and sobbed. Hugged him, begging to know what was wrong with him. That was years ago, he was only fourteen.
The last time he cried before that was when he nearly got hit by a car. So, Phil liked to think Technoblade only cried at near tragedies.
What had happened?
"Dad?" Technoblade drawled out, running his fingers in Tommy's locks of hair.
"What happened?" Phil asked, speaking in hushed tones as to not wake Tommy up. "Is he okay?"
Technoblade went quiet for a minute, before clearing his throat and finally responding.
"We need to call Jschlatt."