Chapter Text
The night’s chill sends goosebumps down Tommy’s arms as he tossed and turned in his bed. He hiked Technoblade’s worn old cloak higher up his body, curling underneath it for warmth. He winced in pain at the fresh bruises that matted his ribs and arms, shuddering at the ghost of a hand that gripped fiercely around his neck. It was hard to get comfortable in this cold, dark cave, but what else could he do other than hide under his brother’s house without his knowledge.
If Technoblade found out that Tommy was taking shelter in a makeshift bunker underneath his house, while also robbing him of his hard-earned materials, he would surely kick him out or kill him. Tommy could not let either of those happen, no matter what.
So there he lay, restless and sleep-deprived as the wind roared outside, clutching to all he had left of his previous life. The pictures of Tubbo crinkled in his calloused hands, worn and faded, and slightly singed around the edges from when Dream destroyed everything he built.
Dream...that bastard. He never cared, he only wanted control, control he would get through manipulating Tommy.
Except, it wasn’t really Dream’s fault, was it? It was all Tommy, everything was. His exile was his own doing, he can’t possibly be mad at anyone but himself. Dream gave him life, food, tools. He didn’t have to, but he did it anyway, a true testament to their friendship.
Sure, he occasionally destroyed Tommy’s things, but only when Tommy was unwilling to comply, so what was the harm?
Tommy was the one who didn’t comply, Tommy was the one who ruined their friendship.
Just like everything else, he thought bitterly.
Tommy turned to stare at the ceiling, pictures clutched gently to his chest.
He missed Tubbo. The thought of him made his heart clench painfully. He missed Tubbo so fucking much. Yet another thing he ruined . No wonder everyone left him.
His eyes begin to sting with fresh tears, face flushed and breaths quickened. He was not going to cry, he never cries. Besides, even if he was, what right did he have to be upset by all of this when he was the one who brought it upon himself.
He curls up on his side, engulfed in his elder brother’s tattered cloak, still clutching the photographs to his chest, small remnants of happier times to at least bring some type of solace.
His shoulders begin to shake with silent, choked sobs, as burning tears rush down his face. So much for not crying, then.
“Stupid fucking tears-” he scrubs violently at them, voice breaking. Why? Why? The only thought running through his mind is why was this happening to him, why him .
“Shut up idiot, you know why,” he speaks into the darkness, to no one but himself, “You did this to yourself, big man. You dug your grave so now fucking lie in it .”
-
Technoblade and Philza arrive back home much later than planned. More like earlier , Techno thinks, as the sun begins to peek over the snowy mountain horizon. His stomach rumbles with hunger, having eaten all of his food on the trek back home, feet dragging tiredly as he trudges through the snow. He pushes his glasses back up his nose as he secures Carl into his stable, throwing a warm blanket over the steed.
“I’d say that was a pretty successful hunt,” Phil sets his gear down on the table, rolling his shoulders, “we got quite the load of meat this time, eh?”
He nudges Techno’s side as he walks into the house, setting his own gear down next to Phil’s.
“Mn,” Techno grunts, “this should last us ‘til next week.”
Phil hums in agreement, unfastening the clasps on his armor, “Yeah, I’ll say, but with how much the two of us eat, I bet it won’t even last 4 days.” This draws a small chuckle from his son.
“I just might take you up on that bet,” the taller man grins, “although, it depends what we’re betting with.”
Philza cackles a short laugh at that, “Mate, I was joking! I’m broke!”
The rest of the day devolves into soft conversations and hard work. Philza goes back to work on the small bee farm he had built next to the house, and Techno gets to work on creating new enchantments. As the evening hits, they cook some of the steak and potatoes, and put the rest of the raw meat back into a chest.
Philza was sharpening his sword as Technoblade stroked the flames of the hearth when he saw Techno abruptly stand straight, staring intensely at the floor.
“Oi Techno, y’good mate?” Phil tries, gaining no response from his son.
He walks slowly over to Technoblade, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder, “Techno?”
Techno jolts harshly, head snapping down to meet Phil’s concerned gaze. His eyes carried subtle anxiety that sent Philza into fix-it mode.
“...Is it the voices again?” Techno’s eyes slide shut as he hesitantly nods his head. Phil hums quietly as he motions for techno to sit down with him.
“What‘re they saying this time?”
Techno sighs somewhat shakily, “It’s dumb, not worth your time.”
Phil places his hand back onto Techno’s shoulder comfortingly, “Techno, your feelings aren’t dumb, talk to me.”
Technoblade hesitates, looking into Phil’s warm, ocean eyes.
“I-” he starts, “They- they’re so loud Phil. They’re screaming about the basement, begging me to go down there saying someones in there.” Techno sighs as he runs a hand down his face, “I don’t know what to do?”
Philza stands, offering a hand out to Techno, “Let’s go check it out, eh? No harm in checking.” Techno takes Phil’s hand after a moment, pulling himself out of the chair.
“...Yeah, sure why not, they’re wrong most of the time anyway.”
He pulls on his netherite chest plate and arm guards, making sure they’re properly fastened, and places his sword into its sheath.
“Let’s go.”
-
Tommy doesn’t remember when he fell asleep, only realizing he did when his eyes blink back to the waking world, squinting at the blinding light of the torch held next to his face. He sighs heavily, “Wil, please, 5 more minutes,” he says as he blinks blearily at a tall head of long pink hair...wait a minute-
Frantic blue eyes shoot up to meet blazing red ones hidden behind small frames.
“ ‘OLY SHIT- ” Tommy screams, as he scrambles up against the wall, iron sword drawn and ready to defend himself.
He hears Technoblade chuckle darkly. “You really think that’s going to help you, Tommy?”
Technoblade stands looming over the small cot in the corner of the room, torch in hand. “Tommy,” he says through his teeth, “where is my stuff.” His hand clenches around the torch, wood splintering slightly.
He’s- He’s pissed, Tommy realizes, as he looks to Techno’s clenched fists and hostile stature.
“I-I don’t know what you’re-”
“Give me my things,”
Tommy give me your things and put them in the hole.
Technoblades piercing gaze meets Tommy’s panicked one. “ Now .”
I’m gonna blow them up.
Tommy’s brain comes to a halt as a white mask and green attire flash through his brain, and he goes into autopilot mode.
Techno sees Tommy stall for a moment, his eyes glazing over with some unrecognizable emotion that Technoblade can’t seem to read. He watches as Tommy’s sword-hand twitches, and Techno’s free hand flies to his netherite sword, pulling it from its sheath, fully expecting Tommy to strike...but it never comes. What does come, is something beyond anything Techno could have imagined.
“Oh right, sorry, ’m sorry I’ll just-”, Tommy frantically begins immediately removing his own armor, along with some of Technoblade’s things.
Techno stares dumbfoundedly, still reeling over Tommy apologizing , as Tommy willingly gives up Techno’s ender pearls, the golden apples, his crossbow, everything .
He then proceeds to discard all of his own belongings into a hole. His iron armor, his sword, all of his tools and food.
Techno grabs his wrist, “Tommy, what the hell are you doing?”
Tommy winces, eyes flying up to stare dumbstruck at Technoblade before he laughs. Techno hates the sound of that laugh, it sounded pained and hollow, and so very forced.
“What? I’m giving you my shit, aren’t I? Is that not what you want? I don’t understand?”
An annoyed sigh passes from Techno’s lips, “Tommy, I want my things. The only thing I want from you is for you to leave . Why would I want your things, anyway?”
Tommy’s breath hitches, “T-to destroy them? I thought that was rather obvious,”
Obvious? What was obvious about this situation?
“I mean, every time Dream would come to visit me, he would burn or explode all of my things.”
...What.
“I mean really, it’s fine. Big D didn’t mean anything by it, it was always just a joke. You know, for fun! I mean I never really understood but what do I care-” The grip on his wrist becomes painful, Tommy looks up to Techno’s face and stops talking altogether.
“Tech-Technoblade- you’re hurting me-”
Techno lets go of his wrist as if he had touched a hot iron brand, curling and uncurling his fists by his side. He takes notice of the black and purpled bruise littered across the younger’s wrists and neck. That- that couldn’t have been him- where did that even come from? The only person Tommy had contact with in these past few weeks was-
Dream.
Dream.
Tommy spares another nervous glance towards Technoblade, and the first and foremost thing he notices is that Technoblade is no longer angry, he is now absolutely fucking livid . His pupils are constricted, small, and barely even there, his chest rising and falling heavily.
“T-Technoblade I-”
“Tommy,” He grits out, “ shut up .”
Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no nono he fucked up. He fucked up bad. He has to- He needs to fix this. He has to-
“Fuck, shit , you’re right, you’re always right and ’m so fucking sorry . I should’ve- I should’ve done it immediately I just wasn’t thinking straight-” His voice breaks as he stumbles over rushed words, panic dancing in dull aqua eyes welling up with fresh tears, “Here, I even have some flint and steel so you can burn it. See? It’s better, I made it better, just please, please let me keep the photos, they’re all I have. Just let me keep them and then I’ll be out of your hair for good, you’ll never have to see me again. Please, please, please- ”
The gears in Technoblade’s brain have never turned faster as the realization hits him like an armored horse.
This...this isn’t Tommy.
Tommy is here, standing in front of him, ragged and gaunt- does he even eat- but he is here. Tommy is here, rambling a word vomit of apologies, and even so, this is no longer his little brother. This isn’t the same cocky, happy-go-lucky little shit he knew and loved.
This is nothing but a shell of what used to be Tommy.
He doesn’t want to know what Dream did to turn Tommy into this, but swears to never let it happen again.
Techno takes a tentative step towards Tommy, who hasn’t noticed Techno getting closer, as he’s pulled by something that awoke within him that he didn’t know existed. He grabs the hand Tommy is currently using to rake at and pull anxiously at his own hair, “Technoblade, what-”, and yanks Tommy into a crushing hug.
Tommy fights the affection, scrabbling to get Techno off of him, but he’s so fucking tired and the warmth of his older brother is so, so comforting.
“Tommy,” Techno says in the most gentle and reassuring voice he can muster, “stop. It’s okay, I’m not mad, and I’m not going to destroy your things.” Technoblade can feel Tommy physically relax at the reassurance, but he’s still tensed as all hell.
Techno really doesn’t know if hugging Tommy was the right thing to do, but some carnal instinct within him screamed at him to comfort the younger, whether it was his own subconscious or the voices, he didn’t know.
“ Why? ” Tommy stresses, “Why aren’t you mad at me, I thought you- you hated me, I just invaded your home and s-stole all your shit- I don’t-”
His sentence dies in his throat, voice breaking as Techno simply holds him tighter.
“I never said that I hated you, Tommy.”
Tommy freezes at that, all of the fight leaving his body. Over Techno’s shoulder, Tommy sees Philza leaning against the ladder, a complicated look on his face. Just as they make eye contact, Phil gives him a small smile and a gentle wave.
“Hey kiddo”, he says softly.
The dam breaks.
Techno startles as a loud, heart-wrenching wail rips itself from Tommy’s throat, wetness seeping into the furred collar of the cloak around his shoulders as Tommy finally, finally lets the tears fall free. He grabs fistfuls of Techno’s shirt, holding on for dear life as if he thought Techno might disappear if he let go.
Techno rests his cheek on top of Tommy’s head, one arm around his shoulders and the other cradling his head. His heart breaks with every raw sob Tommy lets out, his eyes stinging with tears that threaten to gather and fall.
A pair of arms and soft wings wrap around the both of them, as they all fall to the floor, holding each other.
“Why, why me ? What did I do ? Stop being so fuckin’ nice to me, I don’t- I don’t deserve this- ” Tommy cries. Philza softly shushes him, drawing his youngest son into his arms, taking quick notice of how light Tommy is, like a fragile feather amidst a storm. He meets Techno’s watery crimson gaze as he settles next to Phil and Tommy, leaning against them, Philza wraps one of his wings around Techno like a weighted blanket.
“Why do you st-still care?” Tommy gasped, “ Everyone left! Wilby, T-tubbo, even you left, Technoblade. Nobody came to me when I was exiled!”
Tommy’s body shook with tremors as another wave of sobs rolled over him.
Silent tears fall from Techno’s eyes like scalding raindrops, guilt overcoming him as he thinks of the time he mocked a struggling Tommy in exile.
Philza ran his hands slowly through Tommy’s hair, brushing strands out of his face. “Tommy,” He starts softly, “you’re my son, I will always care about you. You did nothing wrong.”
They sat holding each other for the first time since Tommy was a child, Tommy crying as Phil reassures him with kind, honest words.