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Techno hasn't slept in three days.
He's been sitting in the same chair for the last thirteen hours. It's Phil's armchair, dragged into Tommy's bedroom by Wilbur after he'd realised Techno wouldn't be moving for a while. It's the same armchair that's sat next to the fireplace for most of Techno's life; if he closes his eyes he can see Phil in it, Tommy curled on his lap, Techno and Wilbur carving their names in the side with his pocket knife. It feels warm, and so, so far away.
If he closes his eyes he'll fall asleep, so he opens them and stops remembering, and focuses on the present.
Tommy's room is cluttered as always. There's a pile of clothes in a corner, and the floor is strewn with random objects; ranging from a wooden sword to schoolbooks to a book he and Tubbo'd filled with pictures and anecdotes. Techno wants to pick it up, but he's too drained to move. If he wanted to move he should have done it earlier.
Techno tears his gaze from the book and focuses on the bed. The blanket's fresh, as Phil had changed it earlier, and a figure is asleep on the mattress. Tommy looks so much smaller when he's asleep; his loud personality and tall stature often distracts people from the fact that he's just a child. A brassy, fierce child, who's presence can fill a room in a heartbeat, but a child nonetheless. He looks his age when he's asleep.
There's a knock on the door and Techno jumps. It must be Toby, because neither of his brothers would knock. He's correct when he sees the younger boy peek into the room, dark hair falling into his eyes.
"I- uh. I brought food. And mum sent potions," he says, stepping in hesitantly. Techno's not about to answer; to blankly look past him like he has his brothers, but he sees Tubbo's red, puffy eyes and regrets thinking that. This boy is the same age as Tommy, and his best friend, so he blinks, and clears his throat.
"Hi, Toby," he says. His voice is hoarse and scratchy. Tubbo blinks at him, puts the food down on a table and pulls out a bottle of water and offers it to him. Techno accepts it gratefully and chugs. He's been too lethargic to drink water for the past while.
"I stopped by yesterday," says the boy. "I don't think- you didn't notice me, but you were awake." He shuffles uncomfortably. "You should sleep."
"You don't need to tell me what to do," he snaps, and immediately feels bad about it. "Sorry."
Tubbo doesn't seem hurt, instead tilting his lips understandingly. "It's fine. I know you're upset." He looks at the bed. "He looks better today."
He's right. Tommy's hair isn't matted with blood anymore, and Phil changed his bandages and clothes a bit ago. Yesterday, his red shirt had turned a dark shade between maroon and brown. Today, it's yellow and white. There's an IV hooked up from his arm to a pack of healing; something Tommy would contest if he were awake. Small mercies, thinks Techno, and regrets it.
Tubbo hands him the food and sits on the floor delicately. It's cheesy bread and stew, one of his favorite meals; one of Toby's mom's specialties. "Thank you," he mumbles quietly, before digging in. He's starving. He hasn't touched food in a bit; too overwhelmed to do anything but stare at the bed, blank.
Tubbo's picked up the book, flipping through it with care. He stops on a page with a picture of him and Tommy asleep under a tree and starts reading. Techno can hear him murmuring the words, struggling to understand them. Techno stops and looks at him when he hears a soft sniffle.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, at a loss for words. It's his fault. He should be sorry.
The sniffling stops, and the younger boy looks up at him, tears wiped across his face hastily. "It's not your fault. You can't always protect everyone." He looks down and thumbs the page, then turns it over. "At least he didn't respawn."
Techno closes his eyes, soft pink hair falling into his eyes. It was a prank Wilbur and Tommy did, and despite his initial humiliation he'd decided he quite liked it and kept it. He misses Tommy. It's been three days. "I should've noticed."
Tubbo sighs quietly. "It isn't the first time he's gotten badly hurt, you know."
"It's the first time he's gotten badly hurt on my watch," replies Techno. There's a weird pressure building up behind his eyes, making him want to cry. He doesn't. "I hate creepers."
"Who doesn't?" says Tubbo, quiet. He looks back down into the book.
They'd been out in the woods. Techno wanted to head to the village to trade for some enchantments, and Tommy had bothered him enough to go with. It was almost sundown, and Techno had plans in the morning, so he wanted to make it quick.
It had, indeed, been relatively quick. He'd gotten a couple of enchantments which he'd get Phil to apply at home, and he'd bought some small instrument he'd seen for Wilbur to try out. It was only after he'd bought these when he'd noticed that Tommy had wandered off.
Tommy was by no means childish. He was strangely mature for someone his age and he could hold his own, but Techno worried, as did his brothers. Tommy also hadn't taken much armour today- it was a quick walk to the shop, and there usually wasn't a need.
There was that day.
Techno'd heard commotion behind one of the houses and had followed, having a bad gut feeling. He'd walked into Tommy, backing away from a massive hoard of zombies, straight into a berry bush- directly next to a creeper. The next second seemed like time had stopped- then there were no mobs, no berries and just Tommy, unconscious.
Luckily, he'd had a healing potion on him; which had probably saved Tommy's life. Then he'd carted the boy's body all the way back home, in quiet shock, not letting anyone touch him. He knew Tommy hated people seeing him vulnerable. Phil and Wilbur met him halfway, a villager having ran ahead to inform them. The rest was history.
Techno could've left Tommy to respawn, but it was a slow, painful, traumatising process; He and Phil'd experienced it the most, and he didn't wish it on anybody. It was better to suffer than to respawn. It didn't stop Techno from feeling guilty.
Then there was the comment. He'd been walking home, Tommy's body curled into him like he used to when he was smaller, and he'd heard someone say- not to his face- "There he goes. Can't even protect his own family."
It was almost certainly Dream's mother- the other twenty-one year old was Techno's close friend, but his mother held a strange grudge against him due to how often he won the Championships against Dream. Usually, he'd ignore her; but this time she was right. He couldn't protect them, and that was the only thing he was worth.
Techno stares at Tommy, asleep in bed. There's a bandage on his cheek where a stray arrow had grazed him. His baby brother, with his loud personality and fluffy blonde hair and braced teeth. He couldn't protect him.
He couldn't protect Wilbur, who fought with his words instead of his fists. He couldn't protect Phil, who'd given up his dreams to protect them. He wasn't good enough.
Half an hour passes. Techno doesn't move. Toby plucks the plates from his hand, squeezes Tommy's hand and leaves. Phil comes in, swaps out Tommy's bandages again and kisses both of their heads. Wilbur comes in with dinner, and absently sings a melancholy tune in the corner of the room. He drapes a blanket over Techno before he leaves. It smells like comfort.
After a while, Techno's eyes get heavy. He's so tired, but he needs to see Tommy wake up. He's like this whenever his siblings get hurt; it just usually doesn't last this long. He takes a sip of the coffee someone's left; it's gross and cold, but it keeps him awake. He wants to stay awake.
He's rewarded half an hour later. It's around midnight, and he can hear Phil moving around downstairs, and Wilbur in the adjacent room. Then he hears a soft groan and it takes him a second to recognise it. He jumps out of his chair.
"Tommy?"
If it's his imagination, he'll cry.
"Hey, Tech," says a hoarse voice. "Do you have water, big man, because I'm-" a cough- "really dehydrated."
Techno obliges, grabbing the water bottle Tubbo'd given to him earlier and helping Tommy sit up. "Does it hurt?"
Tommy drinks half the bottle, and smiles at him softly. "I'm fine, Techno. You saved me."
Techno splutters. "But I didn't-"
"Shut up, Techno. You did. Have you slept?" asks Tommy, glazing over his sentence. "Get in here."
Techno doesn't want to argue. He watches Tommy shuffle over, making room on his bed. Techno hesitates. "Will I hurt you?"
"Never," says Tommy, grabbing a fistful of pink hair and tugging. "Please."
Techno gets on the bed. Tommy pulls him down next to him, and curls into him. Techno wraps an arm around him and waits.
"I saw a bunch of- uh. Pink flowers. And you like gardening, and we didn't have those, so I wanted to get them for you," says his brother. His stupid, brave little brother.
"I'm sorry," says Techno. "I didn't get to you in time."
"Hey," says Tommy. He grabs another fistful of pink hair and tugs again. His blue eyes meet Techno's. "I made that decision. Don't blame yourself." His voice wavers. "Please."
Techno's heart can't handle it, so he pulls Tommy closer and stares at the ceiling. "Let's just not think about it."
Tommy nods. "Ignoring our problems. Check."
"Shut up, brat," he says. He pulls out his communicator from his pocket and messages Phil and Wilbur, before burying his face into Tommy's dirty blonde hair and listening to the chaos start unfolding around him as his two older siblings rush to the room. He's too tired. He can deal with this later.