Chapter Text
It was quiet.
Though Techno knew there was a pot of tea on the stove top just to his left about to go off, he couldn’t see it. Where there used to be an acute sense of his surroundings, there was simply a blank void. Where there used to be a noisy din of voices talking over each other in his head, there was nothing.
There were barely any words spoken from Chat since ‘The Incident’, as it was now being referred to. Never actually called anything specific, never referencing what actually happened. It was like they were trying to forget, but the scars made it so obvious that it was a fool’s errand.
One might argue Phil had taken it worse than Techno. Though he might not have been the one physically hurt, it was his psyche that took the brunt of the damage. It was one drop too much in the bucket of things he could handle, and that was the tipping point. The guilt of Wilbur’s death, the pain of his resurrection, the fear of a future that was so uncertain. All of it was held at bay, until the blame he put on himself about not saving Techno sooner broke the dam. And Techno? He still didn’t have anything to say to assuage Phil’s fears.
Though he wanted to more than anything, the truth was that Phil was too late. It wasn’t his fault, but what mattered in Phil’s head was that he failed, and there was nothing Techno could do about that. Not while he was still struggling to come to grips with it himself.
It was stupid. It was so dumb and Techno wanted to brush it off like everything else in his life. He’d been through so much, had slaughtered everyone in his path, and yet this somehow was worse than everything else?
He knew what he was getting into when he stepped into that prison. He prepared himself for a few days of some dehumanizing shit that only further confirmed his belief in the corruption of authority, but Dream had been through six months of it, right? So surely Techno could handle it?
Yet he was so, so wrong, and that pissed him off more than anything. Never in his life had he felt so helpless like he did in that jail cell. Every other time in his life he was prepared. He had a plan, he had an escape.
It wasn’t the loss of his eye that hurt the most. Sure, it was a part of him that was gone and would never come back. A piece of him that even respawn couldn’t fix. But he was Technoblade, and the loss of an eye? It was just another obstacle he could concur in a matter of weeks, at least on the battlefield. He was certain that it wouldn’t be a handicap in any meaningful sense once he adjusted, and might even cause some people to underestimate him, thus helping in the long run.
No, what really cut him down to the bone were the feelings that lingered since that fateful day. The fear that he wasn’t as powerful as he thought. The idea that there were some things even he couldn’t predict. The confirmation that Technoblade was fallible, and all it took was one mistake, and he was permanently disfigured and afraid. Not for himself, but for Phil, obviously.
If he wasn’t strong enough to protect Phil, then he wasn’t worth a damn. He had already failed to stop Phil from blaming himself, but the least he could do was try to prevent something like this from ever happening again. He needed to be stronger, smarter, faster, more resilient. He needed to prepare, and he needed to kill Quackity and save Dream.
Techno clenched his fist in anticipation.
Then the tea kettle screeched, and suddenly Techno was no longer in his cozy house in the arctic, but instead that dark, humid prison cell…
——
“Oh how the greats have fallen. Not so high and mighty now, are you, Technoblade?”
The constant mining fatigue had drained all the strength from Techno, making his limbs feel like useless add-ons that served no purpose. It felt hard to even lift his head up to gaze up at the man, who seemed to not even be effected at all.
It was embarrassing. Even Dream seemed to be doing better, although that was probably because he had been in this prison for months and his body had already adapted. Speaking of the man, he was currently curled up in the corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. It didn ’t even matter though, because all Quackity had were eyes for Techno. And being weak like this in front of his enemy, it was humiliating. So Techno forced himself up on shaking legs, holding his head high to stare at him head on.
“You think you can intimidate me, Quackity? You remember our little fight, I’m sure. It’s written all over your face. Iron armor against netherite, and I still beat you. You think I can’t take you now?”
“Ah, ah, ah!” Quackity warned, taking a step back and holding up his axe. “Even if you could, what’s to stop me from, say, leaving this jail cell, gathering a few of my friends, and going off to kill Philza, huh? There’s nothing you could do to stop me, stuck in this cell. Sure, he’s strong, but how many people would be enough to take that last life of his? Two? Three? I have so many people who are indebted to me, Technoblade. It would be laughably easy.”
Quackity swung the axe out, leveling it right at Techno ’s throat that was suddenly paralyzed with fear. Quackity had figured out his one weakness, and he knew just how to twist the knife.
If Dream were courageous enough to speak up in that moment, he might have said something about that being the reason why attachments were bad and all that bullshit he tended to spew. Technoblade knew better though. It was worth it to go through anything as long as Phil was there by his side, safe and sound. Being vulnerable was okay as long as it was for Phil.
“Do you know what it’s like to lose a part of yourself, Technoblade?” Quackity continued. “Of course you don’t, because you’ve had it far too easy for far too long.” The torturer shook his head mockingly. “There’s a saying I’m sure you’ve heard of. An eye for an eye. Course, that usually ends with ‘makes the whole world blind’, but who really cares about semantics? I’m more interested in the first line anyway.” The scar running across his pale eye gleamed in the light of the lava.
Techno narrowed his own eyes. “I hope you understand what you’re threatening here, Quackity. If you thought L’Manburg was bad, you don’t know the hell I’d rain down upon you if you lay a single finger on Phil,” he threatened, using his remaining strength to keep his voice steady.
“This prison is inescapable Technoblade. You’re never going to get a chance to hurt anything again. I’d like to see you try.”
And in a matter of minutes, Techno was on the floor, curled up in a shaking ball. Even with all his training, all his skills, in a situation like this it was useless.
The voices were screaming, practically drowning out all other thoughts and the world around him as he could only watch as Quackity lined up his sword to his eye. Yet one thought stood out among the rest, breaking past the cacophony of voices to crystallize into a single plea. Phil.
As much as he wanted to open his mouth and call for the man that has the key to his freedom, who would hold him close and protect him, he couldn ’t let the weakness show through. It would only put the man in more danger.
As the blade struck true, all he could hope was that Phil would save him.
——
“-echno? Techno? Mate?” Techno snapped back into reality all too suddenly, the world sharpening in focus quick enough to make his head spin. Or perhaps that was because he instinctively shifted, pivoting on his feet to grab the hand of his shoulder and twist it, causing the grip to release.
When he came back to his senses, he quickly released Phil’s hand, stepping back. Behind him, the tea kettle had been taken off the stove, the loud shrieking silenced.
“I… sorry. Lost in thought,” he quickly justified.
Phil grimaced, holding the hand that Techno had grabbed onto close to his chest. “It’s not your fault, mate. I shouldn’t have touched you. Are you alright?”
The words carried more weight to them than just the past minute could show.
“Don’t worry about it. I…” Techno sighed. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna go to sleep.”
“You don’t want any tea?” Phil suggested, motioning at the kettle.
“Nah, I’m fine. Just tired.” That wasn’t even a lie. All parts of him still felt the lingering ache of mining fatigue, and the slowly healing wounds sapped any remaining energy from him as his body tried to patch itself up. Yet the exhaustion was mostly from the constant thoughts running through his head making it hard to think, when he could barely process everything that had happened the past few days. Even the quietness of Chat did nothing to help- in fact, it was probably worse because of the lack of a distraction. In that moment, all he was was just Techno, existing. Nothing to stop the memories and fear from creeping back in.
He was just… tired.
——
It wasn’t until a week later when the pot began to boil over.
The ache in Techno’s bones had subsided, being replaced by an overwhelming desire to do something, anything. His remaining eye kept trailing back over to the book Dream gave him, the layout of the prison scribbled inside, taunting him.
It was impossible to ignore the fact that every day spent waiting was another day of the same terror that Techno had felt being a reality for Dream. There was no denying the complete and utter certainty that he needed to do something, and quickly. The problem just came in the form of one guilty avian hybrid.
“I need to go save Dream, Phil. I’ve been waiting for too long as it is.”
“Techno, you’re still healing. I’m not gonna let you out of my sight until you’re all better.” Phil’s wings twitched in frustration. It was the same story every single time Techno was even slightly hurt. Except this time it was completely different from Techno just being stubborn and restless, this time there was a time limit!
“I know my own limits, Phil. I’m as healed as I’m ever going to get.”
“You haven’t even tried to fight with one eye yet! You don’t know how that’s going to effect you!” A cheap shot, but completely justified. Techno still growled.
“It doesn’t matter. Two eyes or one, I can still beat anyone in a fight. It doesn’t hurt my ability in any meaningful way.”
“Techno, you’re not as ready to go back into battle as you think you are! I… I felt the same way after I lost the use of my wings!” Said appendages flared out behind him, blocking a window that was letting in light to cover the room in shadow. “I thought it would be fine, and I could just go on without them, but sometimes you don’t even realize you need something until it’s gone.” Phil’s voice cracked on the last word. “Sometimes your whole world gets thrown off balance, and you think you’re ready but you’re not. You can’t put yourself in danger like that, Tech.”
“It doesn’t matter because I can’t afford to wait, Phil!” Techno shouted. “Dream’s been in that prison for six months!”
“Yes, and that means a little more time isn’t a big deal. You need to be safe about this, and that means being at peak health.” Phil’s voice shook a little, clearly uncomfortable at the idea of him going near the prison at all but knowing he couldn’t stop that.
“But who knows what could be going on right now! What if Dream being hurt more? What if Quackity is in there right now torturing him, and we could stop it immediately. It’s irresponsible not to do something when we have the ability to prevent it.”
Yet in all honesty, Techno really didn’t care about Dream. Deep down, he knew this was about one thing. Seeing himself in that cell and remembering just how much he pleaded to be saved. When he thought about Dream in that prison, all he could see was himself there. It could only take someone without any empathy to want to leave someone in those conditions.
And clearly Phil saw just as much of Techno in Dream as he himself did, because his face twisted in remorse as the words left Techno’s mouth, inadvertently guilt tripped because all he could think about was how he didn’t save Techno sooner. And once again, thought the nausea crept up in Techno’s stomach, there was nothing he could say as the man’s guilt crossed his face.
Some part of him whispered to use that guilt to convince him to let him go save Dream, but the other part whispered that it wouldn’t fix anything. The problem didn’t lie with the prison or Dream right now. Dream said himself that Quackity seemed to be uninterested in torturing him now, and only seemed to come back for Techno.
The problem was that something had broken in that cell. For Techno, it was the belief that Phil would always save him crushed by a madman’s blade. For Phil, it was the guilt of a man with too much responsibility that felt like everything was his fault.
Anyone looking from the outside in would be able to tell that no one was in the wrong here. They were just two people hurting and attempting to cope with a feeling of helplessness that was so unfamiliar to them. Yet from the inside, neither man knew what to do.
Techno’s shoulders stooped, and he looked away from Phil’s guilt-addled face towards the cabin door. Before he could process it, his legs were leading him out the door, towards the steps leading up to the home. The cold wind bit into his skin, burning against his exposed eye socket.
Phil stepped up next to him quietly.
“We’re never getting anywhere. This whole thing is a mess,” Techno sighed out.
“You can say that again.”
“This whole thing is a mess, and we’re not even addressing it. We’re just dancing around the big issue here.”
“Is there really anything to say? I messed up.” Phil shrugged sadly.
“No! This is the problem! If you’re going to blame yourself, I should take the blame for having gone to that prison in the first place without telling you.”
“But I should’ve looked sooner!”
“You couldn’t have known. It was my fault for not being open and honest.”
“But I know you, and I know you don’t spell things out! I should’ve been able to tell it was all a plan you made. I feel like… I feel like I failed completely in understanding you, when we were always in sync before.”
Techno looked away into the snow. His arms rested on the deck’s railing as he leaned over slightly.
“No one can be on the same wavelength all the time, Phil. Things… changed for both of us when Wilbur died. We both know it. Everything kind of went askew. We didn’t talk about it, and our connection suffered because of it.”
Phil chuckled sadly. “I stopped communicating.”
“We stopped communicating. Wilbur’s death hit me hard as well. You just never really got to see that because I didn’t want to talk about it. It’s easy to see how things got so miscommunicated. We haven’t been on the same wavelength in a while.”
“Because we didn’t talk about our feelings?” Phil looked away, arms wrapped around his waist.
“Because we didn’t trust each other to understand. We’ve always done everything together, we’ve always experienced things the same, but Wilbur’s death… it was different for both of us. I was there in Pogtopia and you weren’t. You were his father and I wasn’t. It was different enough that I think neither of us felt like the other could understand, and that’s when the problems started, because… I didn’t realize that your grief over Wilbur would effect your willingness to look at the will. If we had talked, I would have known that. And who knows what other things we missed.”
It was something that hadn’t even crossed his mind until sitting there stewing in the weight of Wilbur’s death in that moment. The will was an omen of death, something Phil still struggled to cope with, and Techno hadn’t even spared a thought to it. From the grimace that crossed the father’s face, it seemed he was completely correct in that assumption.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you about my feelings regarding Wil. I don’t want to lose the connection I have with you, Tech, I was just… scared,” Phil admitted.
“Death is personal. I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. You’re not required to, not even to me. Neither of us is in the wrong here.” If he was being honest with himself, Techno did want Phil to be able to share everything with him. He wanted Phil to have that complete and utter trust in him, and vice versa. Knowing that there was someone who he could just understand perfectly in this cruel, unforgiving world was comforting. Maybe not the most healthy mindset, but Techno would do anything for Phil. Even if that meant lying and saying that he didn’t want Phil to spill all his feelings to him.
“I’ll make an effort to communicate more in the future, okay?” Phil promised.
“I will too. It was on me as much as you for not bringing it up when I knew it hurt you too.”
“Well if we’re being honest here, I still don’t want you to go back to that prison,” Phil whispered. “I can’t stand to see you hurt again.”
“And you know I have to, for my own sake.”
“I know. Will you at least be safe? Bring some backup?”
“Well I’m gonna need someone to cover my left side,” Techno joked. “Think you can do that?”
“I’ll always have your back, mate.”
“I know. You saved me, at the end of the day. Who knows what could have happened if my time in that cell went on any longer. You prevented something worse from happening. You saved me.” Techno turned to look right in Phil’s eyes that were shining with unshed tears. “Thank you, Phil.”
“Always.”
Chat cheered.
It was loud.