Work Text:
“I’m going to be passing out candy tonight,” Phil instructs, “So you two need to keep hold of Tommy and Tubbo.”
Techno nearly scowls, but he reigns his expression into neutrality just in time to appear completely haughty and confident. Wilbur, on the other hand, is much worse at hiding his emotions. His entire face scrunches up and he curls his lip at Phil.
“Really?” Wilbur complains. “Are you kidding me?”
“All I’m asking is that you tag along with them and make sure that they don’t get into any trouble,” Phil explains calmly. “That’s not so bad, is it?”
Techno and Wilbur share a glance, and Techno knows that they’re both mutually thinking the same thing: this is going to ruin Halloween.
Both of them were planning to go trick-or-treating together that night. Techno, who’s just gotten his license, was going to drive them all the way out to the rich suburbs in order to get the best candy (the old ladies there pass out king size candy bars without a second thought). They were planning to be out of the house until nearly midnight! But personally, Techno has no intention to drive his younger brother and his best friend around the whole night.
They’re going to completely ruin his Halloween.
“I mean,” Wilbur says, sighing heavily, “Come on, Phil, don’t you think they’re old enough to go off on their own?”
“They’re ten.”
“So?” Techno says, before he can stop himself. “Ten years old is enough to win in a fistfight, right?”
Phil gapes. “Techno!”
“Of course they’re not going to be getting into any fights,” Wilbur says hastily, and when Phil glances back down at the bowls of candy he’s prepared for Halloween that night, punches Techno in the arm sharply. Techno grimaces in pain but accepts it. Mentioning two ten-year-olds getting in fistfights definitely wasn’t the best way to try and get Phil to let them be on their own.
“I know, I know,” Phil sighs, still busying himself. “But I’m planning to stay home and pass out candy this year, and I would really appreciate the two of you watching them. I’m sure Tommy and Tubbo will be tired at around, oh, nine? You can bring them back once they’re done. Then you can go off and do whatever it is teenagers do these days.”
Techno shares another glance with Wilbur. They love their dad, but there is no way in hell that Tommy and Tubbo, the two endlessly, hyperactive children, are going to be tired at nine. Plus, they’re going to be hopped up from sugar and chocolate the entire night.
At the look on their faces, Phil frowns, straightens out the orange and black bowls of candy, and then stands up. “I really wouldn’t ask this unless I trusted that you two were responsible enough to take care of them. It’s a compliment, alright?”
“Stupid compliment,” Wilbur says. “But I guess we can.”
“Speak for yourself,” Techno retorts. “Phil, when you have to deal with two screaming children when we drag them back at nine, this will have been your fault.”
Phil’s face breaks into a smile. “Thank you both, you’re amazing.”
Techno gives an awkward thumbs up, which he immediately regrets doing, while Wilbur just shuffles his feet and says, “Sure, dad. We’ve got this.”
Phil turns to leave, checking that all the decorations are set for the first round of baby trick-or-treaters, and instantly Wilbur turns to Techno and hisses, “We have not got this. Are you fucking kidding me?”
“This is your fault,” Techno whispers back. “You got us into this mess by saying yes!”
“You know that Phil would’ve never let us get away with saying no,” Wilbur retorts sharply, “So don’t even try and pull that with me.”
Techno frowns, crosses his arms, and slumps down on the sofa. “Tonight is going to suck.”
“I know,” Wilbur grumbles, and slides down to sit next to him. “I hate Tommy.”
“I hate him too,” Techno mutters. “Maybe we can just ditch him.”
“You know we can’t,” Wilbur says regretfully. “Imagine he and Tubbo actually get lost.”
“I miss the days when Phil would take them trick-or-treating and just leave us to do our thing,” Techno says mournfully. He supposes that it’s all just timing, though— this year, both Tommy and Tubbo turned ten years old, which was apparently the age that Phil decided that their older brothers could be appropriate role models and supervisors.
Techno and Wilbur, determinedly, do not feel the same way.
“I guess we’ve just got to deal with it,” Wilbur says. “What time is it?”
“Three,” Techno says, after glancing at his watch. “We have a few hours until we have to actually deal with them, right?”
Immediately, there’s a knock on the door— well, less of a knock, and more someone’s fist pounding angrily on it. Instantly, Techno knows that it’s Tommy. His suspicions are also furthered when he hears two very annoying, very loud voices begin to chatter eagerly outside of it. They must have just been dropped off from school by another parent, then.
Wilbur and Techno have a brief, silent stare-off in who should go open the door, but finally Techno shoulders the responsibility and goes to open it himself. Tommy and Tubbo, backpacks half open and spilling papers and folders nearly everywhere, rush past him.
“Halloween!” Tommy says, gloating. “I fucking love Halloween.”
Techno’s eyes widen, and Wilbur gapes. “Don’t you dare use that word in front of Phil.”
“Of course not,” Tommy says imperiously. “I’m not an idiot.”
“What word?” Phil calls, from the other room.
“Nothing!” Techno and Wilbur chorus at once, and then grimace at each other. Where on earth did Tommy learn the fuck word? He’s ten! He shouldn’t even know what bad words mean.
“Where is Phil taking us trick-or-treating tonight?” Tubbo says, nearly jumping around the room. Holy shit, how much candy did the two of them eat at school that day? They’re practically bouncing off the walls and it’s barely the late afternoon yet. There’s still so much to do and so much to get ready for, and Techno already feels a terrible headache coming on. He can’t believe that Phil just ruined his and Wilbur’s Halloween night.
Slowly, already looking like he’s regretting it, Wilbur says, “Actually, Tech and I are taking you trick-or-treating this year.”
Tommy’s eyes widen, and he pauses for a moment. He shares a look with Tubbo that’s positively mischievous, and then says, very falsely, “That’s cool!”
Well, fuck. Techno knows that tone on him. So does Wilbur.
“What are you planning, you little gremlin?” Wilbur demands. “Don’t you dare make trouble for us.”
“Of course not!” Tommy defends, and puts his hands up.
“We’re very responsible,” Tubbo adds primely.
“We would never do anything wrong.”
“We’re practically teacher’s pets!”
“We’re—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Techno mutters. “So tonight when we take you trick-or-treating, you’re going to stick very close to the two of us and not make any trouble, right?”
Tommy and Tubbo look at each other again, and then turn back towards Techno. “Of course!”
Techno shares a similarly knowledgeable look with Wilbur. He already knows that this night is going to go downhill, but he supposes that for Phil, he’ll do his best to keep everything together. After all, even though Wilbur likes to claim that he’s the older twin by two minutes, Techno is actually the oldest twin (by three minutes) and therefore, he will always be three minutes more responsible, three minutes older, three minutes smarter, and three minutes better. Even when Wilbur likes to claim the opposite— Techno knows that it’s not true.
“Alright,” Techno sighs, because it’s clear that this night is going to be absolute pandemonium. “Let’s get the two of you into your costumes, then?”
“Yes!” Tubbo cheers, and nearly sprints back to the front of the room where his costume is presumably waiting in a bag. “I’m so excited, we’ve been talking about this for ages.”
Techno glances at Wilbur, who wrinkles his nose but sucks in a deep breath. The two of them resign themselves to the chaos of the afternoon.
“Remember,” Phil says warningly, pointing a finger at the four of them as they stand on his doorstep, about to depart, “Techno and Wilbur, you guys stick with Tommy and Tubbo. Don’t go too far, and stay out of any places without street lamps.”
“Yes, dad,” Techno and Wilbur chorus.
“And Tommy and Tubbo, you two make sure to stick with the two of them, alright? No crossing streets without the two of them there.”
“Yes, dad,” Tommy and Tubbo chorus, even though Phil isn’t technically Tubbo’s dad.
Phil gives the four of them an approving smile, all dressed up in their Halloween costumes and clutching pillowcases, and then beckons towards the street. “Go and have fun, now.”
“Will do,” Techno sighs, and waits until Phil closes the door behind him before turning on Tommy and Tubbo, both of whom are practically ready to sprint away. Techno can tell.
“First things first,” Techno says firmly, “You are going to stick with me and Wilbur at all times, or else we’re going to have issues.”
“Techno doesn’t mean it to be that ominous,” Wilbur says, at the slightly fearful look on Tubbo’s face. “But seriously. Don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Of course not,” Tubbo proclaims. “I’m so excited for tonight, can’t we just get going?”
“Your antennae are falling off,” Tommy says, and waits until Tubbo reaches up to fix them before beginning to step off the porch.
Tubbo’s costume, Techno thinks, is actually fairly decent and well planned out. He’s going as a bee, because of course he is, and he’s got two little bee antennae on a headband. They keep springing and bouncing around, topped with yellow pom poms. He’s also wearing a black and yellow striped shirt with overalls, and those childish little wings that strap onto your back like you’re wearing a backpack.
Tommy, in contrast, is wearing the dumbest fucking costume that Techno has ever seen. He wasn’t actually sure whether people actually dressed up as sheet ghosts in 2020, but apparently they do. Tommy literally took one of their old bedsheets, cut two holes in it for eyes, and then drooped it over himself. He looks so dumb. Every time Techno looks at him he has to physically stop himself from laughing.
The headband that Tubbo’s antennae are on is clearly too big for him, and it keeps slipping as they march down the sidewalk towards their first house, or victim, more like it. Techno and Wilbur stay back and wait on the sidewalk as Tommy and Tubbo jostle their way through the crowd up to the house.
They return a few minutes later with fistfuls of chocolate. Techno glances at his watch again and sees that they’ve only been out of the house for five minutes. Already, he’s tired and exhausted. He really wishes that Phil had just left the lights off at their house like he did the last few years, and took Tommy and Tubbo himself.
The next half hour passes in what feels like a daze. Tommy and Tubbo’s conversation goes rapidly from anything and everything under the sun, to the point where Techno can hardly follow it at this point. Every so often, Techno goes up to a house to get candy as well, but it’s not really the same when he’s shepherding two little kids around.
Finally, there’s a blessed lull of silence, right as they reach a crossroads. Techno glances both ways, assumes that the other three people in his group are doing the same, and crosses the street.
“I’m exhausted,” Techno says under his breath to Wilbur. “I can’t wait until we can drop them off back with Phil.”
“It’s been kind of nice recently,” Wilbur allows. “Hasn’t it been really quiet?”
“You’re right,” Techno says appraisingly. “It’s so quiet without Tommy and Tubbo bickering, right?”
Wait a second.
Wilbur and Techno slowly turned to find the sidewalk behind them completely devoid of sheet ghosts and bee costumes.
Oh, fuck.
Where have Tommy and Tubbo gone?
“Oh God,” Wilbur says, “Where did they go?”
“They’re probably right behind us,” Techno says.
“Maybe they’re on the other side of the street?”
Both of them turn around, but there’s no bee and no ghost on the other side of the street.
“Maybe they’re just so short that we’ve lost track of them?” Techno says, even though his heart is racing with the sick denial that he just completely lost track of his two younger brothers.
“No, no, we would definitely still be hearing them if that was the case,” Wilbur says. He jumps up a little bit, even though he’s stupidly tall and can easily see over the crowd. “Where are they?”
“Maybe they’re just trick-or-treating ahead of us,” Techno tries to think, though his mind is rapidly jumping towards the worst conclusions.
“Oh God,” Wilbur says, “We just lost them. What if they’re in trouble?”
“I don’t think they’re going to get into any trouble,” Techno says, although Wilbur’s tone is making him only a little bit panicked.
“What if they cross the street without looking both ways?”
“They’re ten, not dumb,” Techno says determinedly, and he tries to think things through rationally. “Alright. When was the last time we saw them?”
“I don’t know,” Wilbur says desperately. “Maybe five minutes ago?”
“They could have just gotten held up at a house begging for more candy,” Techno says. “I think we should retrace our steps.”
“What if they’re ahead of us and we’re just getting further away from them?”
“I don’t think that’s the case,” Techno frowns. “Besides, they take so long going from house to house, if we run we would catch up with them.”
Wilbur nods his head and takes several deep, calming breaths. “You’re right. You’re so right.”
“I’m always right,” Techno reminds him, and grins at the scowl that his words receive. “Okay, Operation Back-Tracking starts now.”
“I hate this,” Wilbur sighs, as they turn and battle their way through the moving crowds of trick-or-treaters. The sun has clearly begun to set at this point, lengthening shadows over the horizon, and Techno can see stars beginning to speckle the center of the sky, where the light is darkest. Night is quickly falling, and as the sun dips lower and lower, the sidewalks become more and more crowded, and oh God, maybe Wilbur does have a point about panicking slightly, because if they lose Tommy and Tubbo after it gets dark, they’ll probably never find them again—
Techno marches up to the next house that they see and rings the doorbell. It only takes a moment before an old woman with frazzled hair and thick, coke bottle glasses opens the door with a bowl of candy in her hands.
“Hi,” Techno says quickly, before she can say anything about trick or treat? “Have you seen two little kids, about—” Here, he gestures with his hand, “This tall? One of them is in a stupid sheet ghost costume and the other one looks like a tiny bee?”
The old lady frowns. “I may have seen them a while ago? But then again, so many people come through, I couldn’t be sure.”
Techno looks to Wilbur, who gives him a shrug. “Do you know what direction they might have gone?”
“Most people are going down that way,” the lady points, “So that might—”
Techno and Wilbur don’t give her a moment to finish her sentence before turning and sprinting down in the direction she signals. Thankfully, they’re in the familiar section of the suburbs just then, so the streets are still illuminated with street lamps and there are still a fairly decent amount of children on the sidewalks. Techno recognizes the street names, and he makes a mental note of where they are in case they need to turn back.
They reach a crossroads, and Wilbur stands on his tiptoes to try and see into the crowd.
“Do you see them?”
“Nope,” Wilbur says, peering over people’s heads. “But she’s right— the general crowd is following one direction.”
“Maybe if we follow the crowd we can find them,” Techno says, although he’s very doubtful about that.
“I think we should just keep asking at people’s houses,” Wilbur argues. “That’s definitely a better idea.”
“Well fine, Mr. I Know Everything, ” Techno says. “We can try your way.”
“Good,” Wilbur says, and marches up to the next house. This time, he’s the one who says the speech, and the person at the door positively lights up.
“I did see them!” she exclaims, and Wilbur gives Techno the smuggest look in the history of the world. “The boy with the bee costume was short, right?”
“Yes!” Techno exclaims, relief washing over him. “He’s like half my height. Maybe a little taller.”
“I remember the two of them, they were so nice,” the lady gushes, “They said they were trick-or-treating for their sick friends, so I gave them double the candy because of it. Isn’t that so sweet?”
Techno turns to Wilbur, mouth falling open in shock. He can’t believe they’re such liars.
“That’s great,” Wilbur says, completely ignoring her comment. “Do you know where they might have gone?”
The lady points down the street, in the direction of an open park, and says, “They definitely went that way.”
“Great,” Techno says in a rush.
“There’s our lead,” Wilbur exclaims, and grabs Techno’s hand. “Come on, let’s go!”
The crowds are slowly getting thicker, and with a grimace, Techno passes a group of teenagers who have obviously been drinking and are practically gorging themselves on candy. Shit. They really need to find Tommy and Tubbo soon before Phil finds out that they’ve run away, or before they get into any more trouble.
They come to a stop on the street corner, looking out into the park. Barely anyone is walking through it, sticking closer to the sidewalks where all of the houses with candy are.
“Wait—” Wilbur grabs Techno’s cape and tugs, hard— “I think that’s them!”
Techno stands on his tiptoes to see above the rushing crowd, and with a shock of excitement, sees two little heads moving through the crowd. One of them definitely has bee antennae on, bobbing excitedly, and the other is most definitely covered by a sheet. It has to be them!
“Come on!” Techno urges, and pushes his way through the crowd. “Let’s catch up to them before we lose track of them.”
Together, the twins sprint through the crowd, pushing their way through kids dressed up in everything from miniature vegetables to spooky skeletons, from teenagers in fake police hats to hideous couples’ costumes. They reach the corner where they had most definitely seen Tommy and Tubbo standing there, but—
“There’s no way we’re finding them,” Wilbur mutters. “Not in this crowd.”
They have reached one of the main boulevards in their neighborhood, and the sidewalk is completely packed with trick-or-treaters, and the crowds moved in both directions easily, fluidly. Even if Tommy and Tubbo are wearing bright neon headlamps that lit up with giant signs, it would still be awfully difficult to find them.
“You reckon we should split up?”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Techno says firmly. “We’d lose each other at that rate.”
“Yeah,” Wilbur scowls, “You’re right.”
They both stand there for another moment, not entirely sure what to do now that they’re in a much busier section of the neighborhood, before Techno says, “I’m sure they’re trick-or-treating, right?”
Wilbur perks up. “Right. So we can just ask around at the houses.”
“Good idea,” Techno declares. “Every other house?”
Wilbur gives him a thumbs up, before racing off to the closest house to them. Techno frowns but heads to the house directly after that one.
“Hi,” he says politely, to the man who answers the door, even though Techno is nearing the edge of his limit with socialization and is quickly losing the ability to keep his cool. “Have you seen two boys in stupid Halloween costumes? One of them is in a sheet and the other looks like a bee.”
The man at the door, holding out a bowl of candy, shakes his head regretfully. “I don’t think so.”
“Thanks anyway,” Techno says, although he doesn’t much care now that he knows his brother and brother’s best friend haven’t been there. He returns to the sidewalk and rejoins Wilbur, who’s standing under a street lamp a few doors down from him. Privately, Techno thanks God that Wilbur’s so tall, because he’s practically an entire head above the rest of the crowd. Although it is a bit unfair that Wilbur is taller than him, considering Techno is technically the older twin.
“Did you find where they went?”
Wilbur shakes his head dejectedly. “They said they hadn’t seen anyone.”
“Shit,” Techno says, “I wish they wore better costumes. I bet houses would remember them if they were dressed up in bright neon.”
Wilbur began walking, and Techno followed along with him. “Maybe we can make them be traffic cones for next Halloween.”
“If they make it to next Halloween,” Techno says darkly.
Wilbur points a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare say that.”
“I’m just saying—”
“I’m already worried enough as is,” Wilbur shudders, “Don’t make me think about— I don’t know, about them eating poisoned candy, or getting into strange vans, or getting lost, or—”
Techno stops dead in his tracks. “Are those Tubbo’s antennae?”
“What?”
“Look,” Techno says, and points to the crumpled grass below the street lamps. “Those are!”
“Yes!” Wilbur exclaims, and scrambles to pick them up before someone’s boot could crush them again. “They must have fallen off.”
The antennae in question are most definitely Tubbo’s— they’re the same yellow pom poms on springs on a black headband, even though they’re slightly crushed from people stepping on them on mistake.
“We’re heading in the right direction,” Techno says confidently. “I think we just need to keep going and we’ll catch up to them. We just won’t trick-or-treat on the way.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to be getting no candy this entire Halloween,” Wilbur sighs, but when Techno ups his pace, marching along the sidewalk, Wilbur rushes to catch up with him. “This was supposed to be a fun night, damn it.”
“Get angry at Tommy and Tubbo when we find them, not me.”
“I hate them so much,” Wilbur swears under his breath, “When we find them, I’m going to yell at them so loudly they’ll hear me all the way in China.”
They reach the end of the sidewalk, and mentally, Techno marks down the street names so that he can remember where they are if they need to backtrack. He and Wilbur scan the crowd again, even though that’s all they're constantly doing. Techno in particular looks for a white sheet— now that Tubbo’s antennae have fallen off, the chances of them spotting just another head in the crowd are extremely low.
Then, far off in the distance, illuminated perfectly by a bright white streetlight, Techno sees—
“That’s them!” Wilbur shouts excitedly, even though Techno sees them at the exact same time. “Come on, let’s go!”
Red robe flying, pillowcases trailing behind, hair rustling in the wind, Wilbur grabs ahold of Techno and they practically sprint towards the edge of the next street. Now that they’re closer, Techno absolutely recognizes Tommy’s shoes underneath the white sheet, and worn through jeans, and he’s facing the other way so he doesn’t see them, and then—
“Where the hell were you?” Techno demands, grabbing onto Tommy’s stupid sheet and pulling it off his head.
Two frazzled blue eyes meet him, along with a shock of rumpled blond hair. Tommy clutched onto his completely full pillowcase, and glances between Techno and Wilbur.
“Uh,” he tries, and hesitantly says, “We… we took a detour?”
“You are so lucky that I don’t want to get in trouble too,” Techno hisses, “Or else I’d be dragging the two of you back to Phil right now so fast that you’d get whiplash.”
“Oh, come on,” Tommy complains, “We were going to find you guys eventually, we just thought that the two of you would be boring and staying in the same place the whole time!”
“You wouldn’t have found us!” Wilbur exclaims. “It’s so busy! You could have gotten so much more lost, you could have gotten kidnapped, you could have gotten run over as you try to cross the street—”
“I know how to cross the street,” Tommy says sullenly. “I’m not a baby.”
“You’re acting like one!”
“Calm down,” Techno orders, though he keeps a firm grasp on Tommy’s sleeve just in case he tries to make a run for it again. He scans the immediate vicinity to see if he can find Tubbo, who is conspicuously missing, but sees no striped overalls in the area. With his stomach dropping, he turns to Tommy and says, “Is Tubbo with you?”
Tommy grimaces. “Well, he’s around here somewhere…”
“You lost Tubbo?”
“I didn’t lose him,” Tommy scowls. “We split up to get more candy coverage.”
Techno slaps his free hand to his forehead. “More candy coverage?”
“Yes,” Tommy says, and with a note of pride to his voice, he continues, “You see, if you tell people that you’re trick-or-treating for your sick friend, they’ll give you double the amount of candy. So we were going to split up on different streets, tell everyone that, and then meet up at the end of the street. Then we go down the other person’s street, so that way we hit all the houses twice and get double the candy!”
“Jesus,” Wilbur mutters, and he looks like he wants to murder something. “So you’re telling me that you and Tubbo have been split up this whole time?”
Tommy laughs uncertainly. “Well, he should be back any moment—”
“Tommy!” An excited voice shouts, and then immediately dims. “Oh. Oh, no. Hi, Techno. Hi, Wilbur.”
“Tubbo,” Techno returns, as evenly as he can manage. “Care to tell us where you’ve been?”
Tubbo glances towards Tommy with wide, panicked eyes, and blurts, “We didn’t mean to ditch you!”
“We definitely did,” Tommy mutters.
“Not helping!” Tubbo exclaims. “We just wanted to have some fun.”
Techno looks at Wilbur, who looks like he’s just aged ten years in one night. “Oh, you’re going to have fun, alright. When we tell Phil all about this.”
“No, no, no!” Tommy scrambles for Techno’s red cape. “Please, you can’t tell Phil, he’ll take all of our candy from us.”
“Please!” Tubbo exclaims. “Plus we’ll both get grounded for like, five years.”
All of a sudden, inspiration strikes Techno’s mind.
“I won’t tell Phil,” Techno says slowly, and ignores Wilbur’s affronted glare before continuing, “But you two have to promise something in return.”
Tommy and Tubbo glare at each other— likely blaming the other person for their predicament, before Tubbo says hesitantly, “What do you want?”
Techno thinks Wilbur’s caught onto his idea now. Praise that beautiful twin telepathy. With a pause for dramatic effect, Techno declares, “I want all of your Twix.”
Tommy gasps. “You’re evil.”
“And I want all of your Snickers,” Wilbur proclaims.
Tubbo scowls. “I hate the both of you.”
Techno grins. “All of that, or we tell Phil. Your choice.”
Tubbo tries to give the two of them his best puppy-dog eyes, but both Wilbur and Techno have lived with Tommy for his entire life, and they know all of his tricks. So no amount of pleading is going to work with them.
Finally, both Tommy and Tubbo seem to go through the five stages of grief and finally accept their fate.
“Fine,” Tommy sighs, and holds out his pillowcase dramatically. “Go for it.”
Thirty minutes later— and thirty minutes past Phil’s proposed deadline at nine— the four of them have finally figured out sorting through all their candy. Techno and Wilbur’s pillowcases are noticeably much heavier, filled to the brim with every single Twix and Snickers in Tommy and Tubbo’s bags. Tommy keeps frowning regretfully and poking through his candy bag— even though he still has a considerably large horde of candy leftover.
“Are you sure I can’t have just one Snickers?” Tommy tries pleading, more than once. “They’re my favorite.”
Mouth full of chocolate, peanuts, nougat, and caramel, Techno shakes his head imperiously. “You made your grave, now lie in it.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Tubbo says cheerfully.
“It means we fucked up,” Tommy announces, extremely loudly.
Again, Techno has to stop himself from physically reacting to Tommy’s extremely loose use of swear words. “You have to stop saying that word.”
“Why?” Tommy retorts. “You and Wilbur say it all the time.”
“That’s different,” Wilbur informs him.
“Why?”
“Because we’re much older and much more responsible than you are,” Techno says.
“So responsible that you lost us.”
“You ran away!”
“Same difference!”
Wilbur sneers at him. “Is not.”
“Is too!” Tommy says childishly.
“Is not.”
“Oh my God,” Techno mumbles, and presses two fingers to his temple. “Let’s argue once we’re all back home, please.”
A few minutes later, the four of them approach the doorstep, and Tubbo bounces up to the doorstep of their house and rings the doorbell multiple times.
Phil opens the door, with a bowl of candy, likely prepared to dole out a few pieces of chocolate to any random kid who stops by, and then his eyes light up when he sees the four of them on his doorstep.
“Boys!” Phil cheers, and Tubbo flings himself into Phil’s arms for a hug. “How was your night?”
Techno and Wilbur share a glance, and Wilbur grins slightly.
Techno smiles and says, “Everything went perfectly.”