Chapter Text
No light comes from outside the paned windows, the sun having gone to sleep hours ago. Phil swipes a rag across the countertop, waiting for the last customers of the day to filter out. It’s late. He glances at the clock on the wall behind him, sighing. He almost doesn't catch the near inaudible jingle of the bell above the door.
***
Techno keeps his eyes on his feet, not looking up. He knows he should pay more attention to his surroundings, but he's always had a knack for finding his way. The wind gusts down the street, pushing his hair into his eyes as he tries to decide on how long he’ll wait before heading home. He's been kicked out before, but this time he isn't sure how long his parents want him gone. He shakes himself out of his thoughts, opting to mull it over later. He doesn’t regret his decision, a flash of green in the corner of his vision catching his eye. Lying on the pavement a few feet to his left is a five dollar bill. He glances around the street, trying to spot anyone who might have dropped it. Seeing the street void of anyone but himself, he pockets the bill, pushing his hair out of his eyes, hurrying along his route. As he takes a moment more to survey the area he’s in, he settles on a destination. There’s a park near here, one his mother had taken him to a few years back. He remembers that day well, the sun, the shade of the trees, the smell of wood chips. He would've liked to go there more often, but he’d estimated it as an hour’s journey on foot. He may have been walking for a while longer than he had thought. Another block down, the lights of a building on his left catch his attention. There’s a diner, the light flooding out of its large windows illuminating the sidewalk. The sight of the restaurant reminds him of the fact that he hasn’t eaten today. He clutches the dollar bill tighter in his pocket, and after a moment’s deliberation, changes his course.
He reaches the door, gripping the cool metal of the handle, opening it as carefully as he can. The door still jingles quietly, but the only person who turns to look at him is the man behind the counter. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to walk forward to the counter, hopping into a bar seat. The man walks the length of the counter over to where he's seated, and Techno takes the opportunity to examine him. His hair is longish and blonde, a stubbly beard on his chin. He’s wearing white apron over loose green clothes. His eyes are blue, and he wears a green striped bucket hat. His eyes look kind, Techno determines. He decides he likes the man and his kind eyes.
"What can I get ya?" a voice interrupts Techno’s thoughts, cheery and casual, not bringing any attention to the strangeness of the situation, like the late hour, or the fact that Techno is alone. Despite the fact he thought had readied himself, Techno still falters, freezing as he frantically searches for his words. Seeming to notice his struggle, the man takes pity on him. "Do you like waffles?" He offers, and Techno nods stiffly, relaxing slightly as the man walks back into the kitchen. For the next ten minutes, he watches the clock, occasionally looking away to watch a patron exit the establishment, trickling out until he’s the only customer left sitting in the building. A few moments later, the man returns, carrying a plate of waffles in one hand, setting it down on the counter in front of him with a click. There are two waffles stacked on the plate, and in the center there is a small pile of fruit, topped with whipped cream. Techno can’t remember the last time he ate something like this. A slight burst of panic flashes through him, and he hurriedly reaches into his pocket, pulling out the bill and placing it on the counter. The man laughs gently, pushing it back towards him. “Don’t worry about it, you can keep that.”
"Really?" Techno asks, speaking for the first time that night.
“Of course, I wouldn’t charge a kid. You remind me of myself when I was your age. Parents kick you out for the night?” Slightly shocked at how much the man seems to know, Techno nods.“Thought so. I’m Phil. What’s your name?”
“Technoblade,” he replied lamely.
“Nice to meet you.” He nods again, wishing he knew what to say to the man. He eats his waffles quietly, and Phil continues to clean and close up the shop. The fruit is fresh and sweet, and Techno thinks that he’s going to remember these waffles for a long time. All too soon, he’s done, quietly setting down his fork, but Phil still notices the exact instant he finishes the meal. His head shoots up slightly, as though he’s remembered something.
“That reminds me, do you need a place to stay tonight?” Techno gapes at the man, eyes wide. The man seems to suppress a laugh, and continues. “I’ve got too many spare rooms here, just gathering dust, and I wouldn’t mind letting you stay for a while. I’d be repaying an old favor.” He’s not sure what Phil means by that, but this seems too good to be true.
“Are you sure?” he asks. The man smiles again.
“I’m sure. I owe it to someone.”
“If it’s really okay, then I’d like to stay for tonight.” Phil smiles again, and he watches the way it reaches his eyes as he picks up the dirty plate.
“Right this way then.”
He stays the night, and a fair bit longer, too. The first night he spends mainly staring into the dark of the room Phil had prepared for him, his nervous brain not allowing him to rest. It’s… different, living here with Phil. But he soon comes to like it here, the routine of the diner. Phil’s seemingly endless patience, waking to breakfast each morning, it almost seems too wonderful to be real. Each additional day he stays here, the more he loves it. The helping Phil in the kitchen, the quiet nights when they both read upstairs in the living room, the pattern of life soothing his daily anxieties. But at the same time, the longer he stays, the more he fears losing this. Every day he wakes up and nothing goes wrong, the more the voice in his head nags at him that he’ll have to leave soon. But Techno presses that voice down to the best of his abilities, trying his hardest to enjoy the present. He continues to live like this for almost a year, but soon enough, change forced its way into his little haven. And when it did, it came in the form of a boy named Wilbur.