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“Game plan,” Tommy says. “People finally started exploring to the left. Apparently there’s an ocean monument right by the edge of the village. It’s been ransacked, but the Monument Conservation Society’s gonna be claiming it by tomorrow to ‘preserve history’ or some bullshit like that. Dream Team has already been there. We’re going there- not to dive, because I’m not a dumbass, but just to see it.”
“You’re absolutely a dumbass,” Techno says. “How far is it? I don’t think this is a good idea.” Tommy stretches out like a cat next to him, a thick blanket draped over him. The fifteen-year-old’s need for adventure is insatiable. He’s literally going to get killed.
“Techno, none of the ideas I have are good, yet here we are anyways,” Tommy says. “We aren’t gonna get hurt. Nice picnic by the ocean. I heard the sea lanterns make it look pog.”
“I swear, Tommy, if you get hurt like you did last time-”
“I wasn’t prepared last time!” Tommy exclaims, kicking the side of the armchair Techno’s sitting in. “Y’know, it’s pretty cool I didn’t die considering I was armourless and defenceless. That makes me- that makes me better than you, or some shit.”
“You think everything makes you better than me,” Techno shoots back. “Read a book and maybe I’ll consider.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy says lightheartedly. “No, but- are you coming? Because I absolutely will go by myself.”
“Tommy, you aren’t going by yourself and I’m not fucking coming. Stay inside for once in your life.”
Tommy pouts. “But Dream-”
“I have nothing against Dream,” Techno says. “I have no clue why everyone’s so adamant on making us fight.”
“Because it’d be fun. Besides, we all know you’d win. Imagine the bets I could win,” Tommy says, rubbing his fingers together and raising an eyebrow at Techno, who smacks him lightly upside the head.
“Phil said no gambling,” Techno grumbles. “Imagine: the pressure I’d be under.”
Tommy frowns and says nothing, pulling his legs up next to him so he’s curled on the sofa. The fire flickers in front of them, and Tommy reaches over to grab the poker and nudge some firewood into the hot coal. The corners of his mouth turn down.
They sit in silence for a bit longer. Techno flips through his book, hands gently turning worn, dogeared pages. It’s one of Phil’s old books, and it’s well-loved and Techno’s heard it in bed many, many times.
Tommy shifts next to him. A hand moves over his face. Techno sighs.
“You brat,” he says fondly. “Tommy, you can’t sneak out.”
“Watch me,” the boy says. “I’m stealing the cheesy bread. I’m gonna have a picnic alone and I’m gonna eat all your cheesy bread and die on the way home.”
“Jesus,” Techno sighs. “Not the cheesy bread.”
“Does my death not matter to you, Technoblade?”
“You’re nothing to the Blood God, Tommy,” Techno says, voice going flat. Tommy smacks him on the shoulder.
“You can’t do that schtick on me. It terrifies everyone else, but I’ve seen you fucking trip over wheat, asshole.”
“That was once.”
“Once too many for the Blood God,” Tommy says mockingly. “C’mon. Get all the food you can. We’re taking the cheesy bread.”
Techno sighs and pulls himself up gracefully, tugging Tommy up by the collar of his T-shirt. The boy lands on his feet like a kitten being lifted by it’s mother and smacks him again. “Don’t do that.”
“Stop being so easy to pick up, then,” Techno says. “You’ll sneak out either way, then?”
“Yeah,” Tommy confirms, grabbing a basket from one of the shelves. It’s a hand-woven one Phil’d made once. “It’s to the left of here.”
“You mean south?” Techno asks bemusedly. Tommy shrugs. “You’re so getting us lost.”
“Human GPS, baby!” Tommy says, bumping into Techno’s shoulder as he moves for the kitchen. “Get cho shit, Techno, I wanna get back by sunrise.”
“Phil and Wilbur’ll be back by sunrise,” Techno says, eyebrows raising. “We’ll get in so much trouble.”
“That’s why we’re getting back before that, dumbass,” Tommy calls behind his shoulder. “You think Wilbur’ll miss Niki’s cookies?”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Worth it,” Tommy says, and tosses a pack into the basket.
They set out a bit later. Phil’d taken out their Empire uniforms a while ago, and Techno’s icy blue cape was much, much warmer than his red one- the Antarctic Empire was freezing, after all- so he’d fastened the heavy fabric around himself. Tommy was bundled in layers upon layers of sweaters. He’d forgone his cape- then again, Tommy was very, very likely to lose it, somehow, even in this weather. Phil’d never forgive him.
The monument is, indeed, south of their cottage. Techno leaves a note in case they don’t return by the time Wilbur and Phil return, or if he or Tommy, god forbid, get injured. The note’s not particularly long because Tommy grabs him by the hand and fucking tugs him towards the door, basket in hand. He’s nibbling a piece of cheesy bread. Techno drops his pen in favor of smacking him and taking a piece for himself.
They encounter Dream on their way there- Tommy’s childishly rude, as he always is, but Techno can see the frank adoration in his eyes when the two of them interact and Dream points them in the way of the monument. “You wanna join us?” Techno asks. “Tommy’s literally dragging me there.”
“I couldn’t drag you, you lug,” Tommy grumbles, blushing. “And I never invited Dream.”
“I never asked for your opinion,” Techno says. “Dream?”
Dream chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have… prior obligations,” he says. “Besides, you look pretty kitted out, huh?”
Techno shifts his diamond sword against his waist. His hand wraps around the hilt. “Not that kitted out,” he says. “Haven’t got armour.”
“You say that like you need armour,” Dream says, and wheezes. “Oh, come on now. You two stay safe. I’m going to go see Sap.”
They part ways at the edge of the forest, Dream waving goodbye to them over his shoulder, lime green jacket standing out like a sore thumb. Tommy waves back hesitantly, a grin spreading over his face. Techno shoulder-checks him, smug. Tommy scowls back at him.
No one’s really ever bothered to explore south of the village. Phil’s cottage is at the edge of it’s unofficial borders; a humble little thing where Techno and his odd little family had basically grown up. Everyone’s content not to wander far from the village. Sure, the monument’s probably been discovered by teenagers sneaking out, but it’s existence had been closely guarded- Techno would know, because Techno had been in the group of teenagers who’d found it first. Not that he’d tell Tommy that.
Tommy leads him along an unfamiliar path, rambling all the way- complaining about schoolwork, talking about Tubbo, admiring Dream and vehemently denying doing so, ranting about the MCS. “I can’t believe the big people only come here for the fuckin’ monuments,” he complains, batting a branch out of his way. “Hey- do you think I can bribe Noxite into letting me join the Championships this year? If he comes?”
“That’ll look bad for the Empire,” Techno grunts, catching Tommy by the back of his coat when he trips. Tommy glares at him again, mouth opening to argue. “Besides, he said he’d let you in when you turn sixteen.”
Tommy turns to look at him, still walking. “You never said that,” he says, slowly. “You asshole! You never told me that!”
“Well, we all know you’d just try to get in quicker,” Techno says. “We’re here.”
Tommy turns back, and Techno can physically see his eyes widen in delight. He’s led them to a cliff face, judging by the sheer drop into the ocean. The sun is setting- Techno hadn’t noticed how dark it’d gotten until he saw the sun dipping into the horizon- and the sea monument, somehow, is in clear sight even through the waves. It’s breathtaking. The view from the beach below hadn’t been nearly as stunning.
Tommy’s mouth drops open, and he tugs Techno towards the ledge. “Techno, look, I think those are guardians,” he says, pointing out the distant fish-shaped figures. Techno obliges, tugging Tommy when he gets too close to the edge.
“Don’t fall,” Techno says. “Sit. We’re having that picnic and going home.”
The picnic is surprisingly peaceful. The two of them sit and watch the sun sink into the waves, turning the sky shades of pink and orange and, finally, watching it darken. The monument is much more visible under the night sky, sea lanterns lighting up the structure. It’s incredibly clear to see, still, somehow. Tommy eats too much of his cheesy bread. Techno eats too many of Niki’s cookies in return. He’ll blame it on Tommy.
He realises his mistake when he props himself up on his elbows, basket finally emptied of goods. It’s dark now, almost midnight, probably, and Tommy’s almost half asleep, eyes blearily focused on the monument like he’s never going to see it again. Techno turns, slowly, and sees the forest, which is pitch black, and realises.
“Did you bring a lantern?” Techno asks, slowly. Tommy shakes his head, zoned out. Techno sighs. “We’re going to fucking die.”
“What?” Tommy says, jerking out of his daze. He looks like he’s going to fall asleep. “I- I didn’t bring a lantern, no.”
“We’re dead,” Techno repeats. “Phil and Wilbur are going to kill us if we stay here.”
“So will the MCS,” Tommy says. “No one’s supposed to be loitering.”
“Yet somehow you still thought this was a good idea.”
Tommy frowns, lip curling in. “It’s gonna be taken over by tomorrow.”
“And they’d probably make a museum or something,” Techno counters, and sighs, pulling himself up. “Let’s just go. You remember the way back?”
There’s the second realisation; when Tommy looks at him, eyes wide despite the sleep in them, and answers with a terrified “Yes!” There’s the second realisation. And Techno’s fucking exhausted anyway, and they’re probably going to die either way, so he lets it be.
The way back is pitch dark, as expected near midnight in the middle of winter. It hasn’t snowed, thankfully, but the fact doesn’t stop Tommy from looking like he’s frozen half to death, teeth chattering as he makes his way carefully through the thick undergrowth under the trees. Techno follows him, hand on hilt, guiding them towards where he thinks home may be when Tommy veneers too off course.
And he realises his third mistake when they’re completely, utterly lost. The third mistake was, of course, thinking they wouldn’t get lost on the way back. Because it’s pitch black, and Techno can hear the clattering of bones somewhere nearby, and the occasional groan of a zombie. Tommy reaches for his hand, which he doesn’t do often. Techno takes it and squeezes.
“Tommy,” he says, lowly. “Tommy, why do you have to get us into such messes?”
Tommy genuinely pouts, next to him, face illuminated by the dim moonlight shining through the thick canopy of trees. “I-I’m sorry,” he says. “What, am I not allowed to have a little bonding time with my big brother?” He says it teasingly, of course, but there’s a slight wobble to his voice that’s a cause for concern.
“What, you missed me?” Techno asks incredulously. “We’ve been staying in the same house, Tommy.”
“You’re the Blood God, asshole,” Tommy says. “The last time- fuck!”
Techno’s yanked down by the collar of his cape, another hand pushing his head down roughly. The sound of an arrow whistles over his head. He looks up, wide-eyed, at Tommy, who stares at him back- and Techno pulls his sword out and neatly decapitates the skeleton who’d nearly shot him through the skull.
Tommy’s in the same place he’d been when he’d pushed Techno; staring, blankly, as the skeleton disintegrates. His hand has been pulled to his chest. Techno makes his way back over, wiping his sword against his pant leg- skeletons may be be weirdly dry but they were still dead and therefore gross- and pulls the teenager’s hand from where it’s held against him. There’s now a long, thin gash down it. Tommy’s lip wobbles.
“Oh, suck it up,” Techno says, alarmed by the tears. He mops the blood up with one of the layers of sweaters he’s wearing, careful to avoid his uniform. “You’ve been almost blown up before, Tommy, this is nothing.”
“Yeah,” Tommy says, and his voice rises unsteadily in pitch as he continues. “But I was unconscious, okay, it’s a lot scarier when-”
Techno sighs. “I don’t wanna hear it,” he says, trying for somewhere between playful and shut-up-before-i-panic. His expression falls again as Tommy turns in a slow, wobbly circle, hand still clamped around his arm, observing their surroundings. “I let you get hurt again.”
“And I’m telling you to shut up,” Tommy says graciously. “Do you recognise any of these trees?”
“I- I do not,” Techno says. “I’ve never been here, Tommy, you can’t expect me to recognise the fucking trees.”
Tommy’s lip wobbles some more. “That’s supposed to be your whole thing, though. Other than like- murder.”
“Tommy- Tommy, we’re in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night, and I have no clue where we are. I’m not sure what you want me to do here.”
To his horror, Tommy’s eyes go very, very glassy very fast. And- as Techno does with most of his problems- he elects to ignore it. Tommy mutters a “Open area,” and then they’re on their way, forging their way through thick forestry until they find a patch that Techno claims is open enough.
He messages Phil with a sigh. It’s protocol, at this point, because they’ve gotten lost in the woods plenty of times- Techno has, at least, and Wilbur has, and Tommy most definitely hasn’t judging by how hard he’s panicking. Phil’d scout the area with his wings, spot them in whatever area they’d set up camp and make his way there on foot- he couldn’t carry them while flying much anymore. And then Techno’d get the spiel about how just because he’s the Blood God doesn’t mean it won’t hurt when he respawns and he’ll know true fear for the first time in a while because it’s invoked by Philza being protective. Phil was supposed to be their older sibling, sure, but the man had serious parental vibes radiating around him.
Phil messages him back after a bit- seriously? give us a bit- and Techno climbs up to the highest point in their little clearing. They’re situated over a small stream- small enough to step over, really- and there’s a massive pile of massive boulders where the water’s coming from. Tommy clambers up after him, dropping next to him gracelessly. Techno grabs him when he almost slides off, pulling him up so Tommy’s sat higher than him and leaning against him so he physically can’t fall. “So- you were saying.”
“Saying what?” Tommy asks, frown still going strong. “Because all I remember is you being a bitch.”
“You think I’m a bitch constantly,” Techno sighs. “No- before the skeleton interrupted you. You were saying I was the Blood God.”
“You are,” Tommy says blankly.
“And…?” Techno prompts, swinging a leg into the stone under him. The moon shines into his eyes.
“Oh,” Tommy says, as if realising. “Nothin’. Don’t worry about it.”
“I have an obligation to worry about it,” Techno says. Tommy’s breath hitches.
“Like- why do you care?” The teenager asks suddenly. Techno raises an eyebrow. “Like- you’re famous. You’re the Blood God. Big Man. Massive Dubs. But you still give into this- like- obligation to care.”
Techno opens his mouth. Tommy continues. “Like- you disappeared for that full year, a while ago, to farm fucking potatoes, and you returned like- like it’d been no big deal. And then- Wilbur says you didn’t leave my side for four days when I got hurt by that creeper.”
“It was three,” Techno corrects. “And Wilbur’s a liar.”
“Wilbur’s the most honest of all of us,” Tommy scoffs. “Man’s just dramatic. But, yeah- why?”
Techno’s eyebrows reach their peak and go higher. Tommy looks at him- not glaring, anymore, just watching him warily. “Have you ever considered that you’re my sibling and I don’t want you to get hurt?” Techno asks, deadpan.
Tommy’s face scrunches up with some odd expression- Techno can’t tell if it’s the one Tommy makes when he’s disgruntled, or if the one he makes when he’s upset, or maybe the one he makes when he’s come to some strange conclusion. But Tommy just sighs and leans into him. “Woulda guessed,” he says, finally.
They sit in the quiet a while. Techno stands every few minutes and slides down their platform to gut a zombie or skeleton. Tommy sits and shudders into Techno’s side, huddling into himself when he leaves. Another arrow flies right by his head by a skeleton Techno hadn’t noticed, and the boy yelps and scrambles, dropping off the boulder clumsily. Techno jogs over to him. It doesn’t help Tommy’s blatant panic much at all, the boy’s face crumpling like paper and soaking with tears.
Techno’s incredibly relieved when Phil flies over them, finally, and lets out a loud whistle. The man drops down to meet them, coming to a graceful halt in the cold grass, gray wings looking as badass as ever. No matter how badass he looks, though, Phil’s always a chaotic fucking sweetheart; Techno’s even more fucking relieved when he lets go of Tommy and Phil takes over the comfort-child job. He kneels down next to Phil’s bag, pulling out a lantern and a bottle of fluid as the man coaxes Tommy out of his vague state of shock.
“He has a slice on his arm,” Techno says. “And I think he’s in a little bit of shock because I almost let him be mauled by an arrow.”
“I’m sure you tried to keep him from being mauled,” Phil says lowly, brushing Tommy’s hair away from his forehead. “You good? Breathe with me.”
“I’m good,” Tommy says, eyes still wide, allowing himself to be pulled up by the arms and pulled into a hug. Phil reaches for Techno as well, who, grudgingly, allows himself to be pulled over as well.
“You two are such dumbasses, you know that?” Phil says into their hug. “Will’s coming over and he’s leaving a fucking path because he’s smart. Also someone has to buy him more of Niki’s cookies.”
“Those were all Tommy,” Techno lies, resting his chin on Phil’s head with some difficulty. Tommy buries his face into the crook of Phil’s neck. “He ate my cheesy bread as well.”
“Did not,” Tommy grumbles. “Mans likes to blame me for everything.”
“‘Mans’ is only telling the truth.”
“Boys,” Phil says, half joking. “Shut up before I leave you here.”
Techno’s weirdly glad Tommy’d dragged them out there, even if it’d led to Phil unofficially grounding them- even Techno, who was twenty and the fucking Blood God- because it’d been surprisingly nice. The MCS had, indeed, blocked off the area the next day, with teenagers all around the village mourning the loss of the view. It was nice that Tommy’d gotten to see it before it’s preservation efforts. It was nicer that he’d spent some time with his dumbass little brother.