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4
When Techno was four years old, his father made a cake for his and Wilbur’s birthday. It wasn’t very good, as Phil was more the adventuring type rather than the baking type. It was a little dry, and he’d put the icing on the cake before it was finished cooling, so it ran down the cake in white lines, with smudged, red words in the middle spelling ‘Happy Birthday Techno and Wilbur.’ The twins had shared a look, both of them agreeing in that moment no matter how bad the cake was, they’d eat the whole thing. And they did.
(The stomach aches they’d had afterwards were worth it to see their dad so happy.)
5
When Techno was five years old, Phil tried his hand at the cake again. He’d been practicing, and had even managed to make one half strawberry and the other vanilla, the twins favorite flavors. He’d learned from his icing mistakes the year before as well, and the message on the top was much more legible. Wilbur’s hand had found Techno’s while their father sang Happy Birthday (off tune and crackly, mind you), and the two boys squeezed at the same time.
7
When Techno was seven years old, Tommy had just been born a couple months earlier. He still didn’t quite understand the squishy, weird, alien looking thing Phil had called his brother, but had come to form an incredible protectiveness over him. Techno spent most of the day helping Phil with the baby while he prepped for their celebration, and got to hold Tommy for quite a while. (Wilbur helped, but he was much too enraptured with the small guitar their dad had gifted him that morning.)
Techno didn’t mind, though. Every time Tommy smiled at him, a warmth designated only for Wilbur and Phil shot through his chest, and that was enough to help pass time.
(He tried not to get too mad when the chubby little baby fist hit him in the face. Or when it went directly through the cake Phil had made.)
13
When Techno was thirteen years old, he asked Phil to help him dye his hair. It was his birthday present that year, and they spent almost four hours in the bathroom bleaching and dyeing the boy’s long, brown hair. After he and Phil emerged, his hair now a bright shade of pink, Tommy immediately ran up to the two with all of the energy of an already hyperactive six year old, screaming bloody murder about the shade.
“IT LOOKS SO COOL!” Techno just barely made that out from the boy’s shrieks, and he felt his chest swell with pride.
Wilbur came up beside him, cramming a paper crown on his head with a grin.
“You just have to stand out, huh?” The other boy said, and Techno stuck his tongue out.
“Obviously.”
Phil grinned down at the three boys, shaking his head, “Okay, okay, don’t torture your brother too much. I have to get started on that cake.”
The three nodded, but as soon as their father rounded the corner Tommy began jumping at his brother again, complaining about how Techno got to do cool things with his hair and Wilbur kept poking at his head. Even with the torture, Techno couldn’t help but feel a sense of sincere gratefulness for his family settle on his shoulders.
16
When Techno turned sixteen years old, Phil gave him and Wilbur weapons. Techno handled the sword easily, but Wilbur still favored his old, beaten up guitar.
This was the same year Phil came home from a long trip, a little boy just a bit older than Tommy in his arms. Tubbo joined the family easily, him and Tommy immediately becoming attached at the hip, but Techno was still having a hard time accepting that he had three instead of two brothers. Tubbo obviously felt that energy from him, and stayed closer to Wilbur or Tommy when he was in the room. But the timid boy still made him a gift for his birthday, a small crown made out of sticks and leaves that perfectly fit around his head. It settled nicely, an earthy contrast from his still pink hair. He smiled at Tubbo, and felt a warmth grow in his chest as the other boy smiled back.
18
When Techno turned eighteen years old, he had a gift for Wilbur, and his first real scar. Phil had to stitch up the long gash across his cheek, and even now it was still pink and irritated. Tommy had called him an ‘absolute badass,’ and Phil had scolded him immediately. Techno had laughed lightly, ignoring the pain that shot through his skin.
The gift for Wilbur was partially a birthday present and partially a ‘I’m sorry for scaring you half to death and getting myself into a near death experience’ gift. He clutched the small package tightly, before knocking on Wilbur’s door. Will’s small ‘come in’ sounded, but Techno still hesitated.
Wilbur was sat on his bed, plucking on the strings of his guitar. He turned to face Techno as he walked in, the sad smile he always got when seeing him now immediately appearing.
“What can I do for you, Tech?”
“Oh I just..” Techno’s face burned as he held out the gift, “Happy birthday, Will.”
Wilbur’s face morphed into surprise, and then his eyes lit up as he took the gift gently. He unwrapped the box with careful fingers before opening it. The sweater inside was the same shade of yellow as the sunset, and made of an unbelievably soft material. Wilbur held it up, his face full of wonder, before hurriedly pulling it on over his t-shirt.
“D’ya like it? I saw it the other day ‘n thought of you, it’s kinda like an apology gift too, for almost gettin’ killed in front ‘a ya and everythin’-“ Techno rambled, rubbing the back of his neck.
And then his brother was hugging him, his curly hair tickling his face. Techno melted into the hug, sighing deeply.
“I love it Techno, thank you.”
Later that night, while their family sang to them over their cake, Wilbur grasped his brother’s hand and they squeezed at the same time, eyes full of sincere happiness.
19
When Techno turned nineteen years old, his brother had had a baby. Fundy was a surprise none of them were expecting, and the night Wilbur came home with the bundle in his arms, Techno took another vow to protect it. The baby was, understandably, a bit scared of Techno, his tusks and scars weren’t exactly welcoming to a newborn. But Techno tried, and eventually got a few giggles from the little redhead. He spent his nineteenth birthday the way he spent his seventh, cradling a child while his family bustled around him.
Tommy helped Phil bake the cake this year, his messy scrawl on the cake making it reminiscent of the first time the cake was ever made. It caused a sort of block in Techno’s throat that he told no one of, as they would never let him live it down.
21
When Techno was twenty one years old, he spent it on his own farm, waiting for his brothers and father to arrive. Phil came the earliest, cradling a large cake in his arms, his hair sheared short for the first time in years. Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo arrived almost late, with two year old Fundy in tow. He knew what his brothers were doing, fighting to create their own country. He was undeniably proud of them, but couldn’t help but notice the bags under Tommy’s eyes, the new scars along Tubbo’s hands, and the way Wilbur’s shoulders hunched, the weight of the world crushing him.
He served a hearty dinner, and his three brothers tore into it as if they hadn’t had a proper meal in months. They probably hadn’t. He gritted his teeth and made them eat their fill, acting as motherly as Phil did. Tommy poked fun at it, but the taunts fell short as he just ended up sounding grateful.
His family stayed on his farm that night, and for the first time in months Techno fell asleep easy, knowing everyone was safe.
23
When Techno turned twenty three years old, he spent it working on a shitty potato farm in the shitty ravine he’d joined his brothers in. He hadn’t even remembered the day until Tommy called him and Wilbur to the wide space they used as a sort of ‘common area,’ armed with a cake and shitty birthday decorations. He sang wildly and out of tune to his brothers, making the two of them laugh, before they all dug in. It was obvious Tommy had helped Phil with the cake multiple times, it almost tasted the same as when Phil made it himself.
Techno could practically see some of the weight lift off of Wilbur’s shoulders as they laughed together, making his heart feel lighter. He watched in real time as this exile took its toll on his brother, and it was crushing him.
He stood from the table, ignoring the confusion from his brothers, and walked off. When he returned, Wilbur was making a snarky comment at Tommy, who was arguing loudly in return. They both stopped in their tracks when they saw him, or more accurately the guitar in his hands.
“Play something for us Will,” He murmured, thrusting the instrument into Wilbur’s hands.
“I-I don’t know-“
“Play something!” Tommy chimed, nodding aggressively.
Wilbur laughed nervously, before shaking his head, accepting it. He spent a couple minutes tuning the guitar, before he finally started playing.
The three of them remembered the tune he played quite well, it was something Phil would hum as he worked around the house. Techno wondered if they were all thinking of the same thing, of where their father was.
24
Techno spent his twenty fourth birthday alone. Well, mainly alone. He’d spent the day collecting items before retiring to his home in the mountains, where he attempted to make the cake Phil had always made. The recipe was complicated and annoying, and Techno could only watch as the batter turned to sludge in front of him.
Before he knew it, his vision turned red, and he hit the bowl as hard as he could. It flew, spattering him, and the walls, with batter. He fell to his knees, hot tears welling up in his eyes. All he could see was Wilbur, his stupid grin, his songs, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about L’Manburg, and Fundy, and anything he loved. And he could see Wilbur, the sword protruding from his chest, the tattered coat he wore soaked with blood. And he could see Phil’s trembling form as he held his brother.
Techno didn’t know how long he was there before hands gripped his shoulders tightly, causing him to spin around. Phil was there, sad eyes looking down at him. He took a shaky breath, before surging up to hug his dad. He felt like a child with the way Phil held him, even though he was much taller at this point.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice nagged about Tommy not being there, or Tubbo, when they all lost someone. Something in him managed to think they could all come together to celebrate Wilbur’s life, but of course not. Things were too messed up, too ruined now.
-
Not too far away, a boy sat alone in his tent, singing happy birthday under his breath over a piece of breath. His voice cracked with tears, especially when he passed over his brothers’ names. He bitterly thought of the oldest, and how he’d not even bothered to reach out to him on this day, of all days.
His invitation sat in ashes, burnt by someone hellbent on keeping them apart.
-
Further away, Tubbo sat in his office, clutching an image of his family, an ache deep in his heart for what he couldn’t have anymore.