Chapter Text
Chaos rages.
The world is nothing but smoke and haze. It’s all blurry. Nothing defined, nothing real. Just fuzzy blobs, dancing on the horizon. Stumbling on the edge of the new gaping crater in the land. Dodging small fires and swinging weapons.
There are the distinct sounds of a demonic hissing, and then explosions. And screams. Very, very familiar screams. In between, the cheery pop of colorful fireworks. All the while, rocks continue sliding and crumbling. The ground trying to settle, even as it is pummeled once more.
“Dad?” His voice breaks.
There’s warmth behind him again. Finally, warmth. Shaking hands gripping him, holding him close. Keeping him in one piece. There’s a damp spot growing in his hair. An even damper one blooming out of his chest. And an even larger, ever growing pool of shadows, spilling out from his body.
It takes a moment, but finally, there is an answer.
“Yes, Will?” Somehow, the voice is just as strong as ever.
“Tell me a story.” Wilbur begs, barely managing a whisper.
Everything is getting fuzzy now. It’s beginning to fade from him. Still, there are the screams and the bursts of light around him. What was it all for? He can’t remember. He can’t remember anymore…
“Dad, please. Tell me a story. Dad—”
-
“Dadza! Dadza! Tell me a story! Just one, then I’ll go to bed, I promise.”
Above him, Dadza laughs. Full and hearty, just like always. Wilbur can’t help but pout.
“You say that every night, Will.”
“I mean it this time, Dadza! I promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise!”
Not willing to waste a moment more, Wilbur grabs his father’s hand, dragging him towards the bedroom. Dadza only continues to laugh. Everything is warm.
Life was simple back then. It was just the two of them, together in their little house in the forest. Dadza was great at taking care of Wilbur. He was great at everything. Anything Wilbur wanted, Dadza made sure he had it.
They would spend the warm days working. Dadza did all kinds of things, and he always let Wilbur tag along. Most days, they collected things. Hours would be spend digging deserts under the sweltering sun. Wilbur would sit off to the side, playing in the sand. (Trying to eat it too, but Dadza never liked that, so he made sure he didn’t see it.)
Other days would be spent at the farm. Digging crops and breeding animals. Shearing wool and collecting eggs and milk for cakes. Wilbur never liked the animals much. They stared at him funny.
Special days were for exploring. Sometimes they would take a boat out on the oceans, sailing for hours to see what they could find. Other times, Dadza would simply scoop Wilbur up—holding him tight as they soared through the sky. Those were Wilbur’s favorite days.
Throughout all their adventures, Dadza taught Wilbur everything he knew. Showed him how to store things away like he does, making them disappear in a flash of light. Or how to read the ancient books and imbue that knowledge into tools and weapons, making them glow.
He even taught Wilbur how to hold a sword, though he didn’t like it much. Even through all his crying and complaining though, Dadza held fast. He was very serious on those days. Telling Wilbur that he must be careful in the world. There are things out there that want to hurt little boys like him. He can’t let them get him.
When Dadza says this, there is a coldness in Wilbur’s stomach that tells him to listen.
-
Growing up, Wilbur believes his life will be the same forever. Just him and his dad, working and laughing throughout the days. And for a long time, there is no reason to believe otherwise. Nothing ever changes in their little world.
But Dadza leaves sometimes. It’s to help people, he says. And Wilbur knows it’s true. Dadza helps him with everything, why wouldn’t he help other people? However, that doesn’t stop him from being upset. It’s lonely when Dad leaves.
It’s cold, too. Really cold.
But he’s usually only gone a few days. And Wilbur is big now, he can handle being alone. He takes care of all the animals, and watches over the crops. Sorts through Dad’s chests, making sure everything is in order. Even goes resource gathering when something is low, if it’s safe to.
(Dadza gets upset with him if he leaves on his own or does things without asking. He has to be safe, always. Wilbur doesn’t like it. But Dadza always seems scared enough that Wilbur listens.)
Dadza leaves once when Wilbur is ten. As always, he stands out on the porch, watching as his father rockets into the sky with his ebony wings. Then, he sets about his day, as normal as possible.
But Dadza is gone for a lot longer than normal. So long, that Wilbur begins to worry he won’t come back. During the night, in front of the crackling fire, Wilbur’s mind races. It always shows him bad things at night.
But he’s a big boy now. He’s strong. So, Wilbur continues onward. Dadza is probably just testing him. Making sure he can take care of himself. Yeah, that’s it. That’s…
Then finally, a week later, Dadza returns.
It’s not in the same fanfare as usual. His father usually tries to scare him by dropping down right in front of him and scooping him up in a big hug. But there’s none of that today.
Wilbur is crouched in the vegetable garden, collecting the fresh spuds. It’s then that he notices movement on the path. In the distance, his father’s familiar green silhouette is just visible. Relief crashes over Wilbur in a wave.
Before he even realizes it, he’s up and running down the path. Once he’s close enough, he latches onto his father. Warm tears prick the corners of his eyes. His father only pats his head lightly, before pulling Wilbur off him. His stomach turns.
Why is Dad being like this? What happened? What did Wilbur do—
“Uh, Will, there’s…”
Through his panicked thoughts, Wilbur finally manages to notice the figure standing at his father’s side.
It’s another little boy, a little smaller than him. He’s… weird. His choppy pink hair and harsh, distrusting red eyes. His ears are shaped funny and… two of his bottom teeth stick out. Honestly, he’s scary looking. Wilbur shrinks into himself.
“Dadza…”
“Wilbur, this is Technoblade. Techno, this is Wilbur Soot.” Dadza explains kindly, a calm smile on his face.
“Uhm, hi.” Wilbur mutters before looking back up at his father. “Dadza, why is he here?”
Dadza sighs to himself. Then, he begins walking back down the path. The strange boy begins to follow without question. Wilbur watches them with wide eyes. Why is this…
It’s then that he notices his father and the boy’s disheveled states. They both look dirty and warn out. And there’s… blood. Little dots of it along the edges of his father’s sandals and in the ends of the boy’s pink hair. He feels like a silverfish is trying to crawl up his throat.
“Techno is going to stay with us now, Will.” Dadza explains when Wilbur runs to catch up.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how long you’ll stay either.”
“I would never leave you.” Will insists.
Dadza only smiles down sadly at him. “Of course.”
Wilbur falls a few steps behind, perfectly in line with the other boy—Techno. Technoblade. What kind of a name is that? Wilbur is too scared of him to ask.
Techno’s strange red eyes stare into him, unblinking. Wilbur shifts nervously. Why is he so weird and quiet? And why does he look like that. It’s not normal.
As they pass the farms, something clicks in Wilbur’s head.
“Oh, you look like a pig.” He says before thinking.
Stopping dead in his tracks, his hands fly up over his mouth. Dadza turns around to look at him in a strange mixture of surprise and humor. Techno’s expression doesn’t change.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” Wilbur begins, voice cracking.
Techno shrugs, looking away. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”
His voice is surprisingly level, surprisingly soft. With that, the pink-haired boy turns away and continues down the path. Wilbur can only stare after him.
“God, Will…” Dadza laughs above him, ruffling his hair. “Never change, kid.”
-
Things are… different after that.
Techno is different.
He doesn’t talk much. Or do much, really… Mostly he just helps Dadza out quietly. Otherwise, he sits in the house and watches as Dadza cooks or crafts or enchants or… does anything really.
(To be fair, Wilbur does mostly the same, but it’s weird when Techno does it. Philza isn’t Techno’s Dadza. He’s just… some kid.)
But Dadza doesn’t seem to mind it. He seems to like Techno, actually. Like… a lot. Almost as much as he likes Wilbur. It sucks.
All the things Wilbur has learned has to be taught to Techno now. Some things Techno knows, like crafting and inventory. But others he doesn’t. Which just means Wilbur gets to go back to the basics along with him. It’s stupid.
What’s even worse is there are a lot of things Techno is good at. Mostly the things Wilbur is bad at. The things Dadza wants him to learn, but he won’t. Like fighting. Techno picks up a sword and a shield and is… good. Begrudgingly, he is really, really good.
And Wilbur hates it.
Because now there’s someone else in their little world, when it was just supposed to be them. But now this stupid pig boy is here and he’s ruining everything.
(He’s better than Wilbur at everything…)
And Dadza likes him. He really likes him…
-
It’s six months later when Dadza leaves the two of them alone together for the first time. He seemed hesitant too. But Wilbur put on his best smile and assured Dadza that he could take care of Techno. The younger boy didn’t seem too pleased at the thought of being taken care of. Wilbur finds it hard to care.
The first day just the two of them is awkward. Really, Techno just follows him around like he usually does with Dadza. It’s unsettling. Something about those beady red eyes that never seem to focus…
It’s not until after lunch, once they’ve finished all their chores, that Techno actually… does something.
“Wanna spar?” He asks, as Wilbur picks up his plate.
For a moment, Wilbur only stares down at him, weighing his options. Techno just stares back, as always. But there’s something about his expression… He looks hopeful, for once. Like maybe he actually… wants to spend time with Wilbur.
Well, sparring is what Techno is best at. Of course he wants to do it. But really, there’s no reason not to. They have the rest of the day to do… whatever. And Dadza… he wants Wilbur to fight, doesn’t he? He should learn to fight.
“Okay, whatever.” Wilbur shrugs.
Techno wipes the floor with him, obviously. But somehow, it’s not horrible. Wilbur actually... has fun. He gets pretty close to disarming Techno a few times too, so it’s not the worst. Techno even tells him how to defend against him and get better. And he’s… nice about it.
Actually, Wilbur thinks this one training session is the most he’s heard Techno talk in all the time they’ve lived together. He seems to come alive with the wooden sword in his hand.
Afterwards, that same life seems to stay in Techno. He chatters Wilbur’s ear off during dinner, and while they fall asleep, and during the next day too. It becomes harder and harder to hate the boy. They actually… get along. Really well. Huh.
Techno’s bright mood stays intact even after Dadza comes back. Everything goes back to normal, except for Techno babbling at all hours of the day. And well… Techno sticks closer to Wilbur’s side. And Wilbur sticks closer to his side.
It’s nice to have a friend, Wilbur decides.
-
“Wilbur, Will, look what I found!” Techno waves a small blue flower in his hand.
Wilbur hums, storing away a mushroom in a flash of light. “That’s very nice, Techno.”
“I think I’ll keep it.” Techno decides, and the flower disappears. “I’ll put it on my windowsill.”
Dadza had recently worked to expand the house so Techno could have his own room. It took forever, and the made house very breezy, but Wilbur’s room got expanded too, so he really, he can’t complain.
“That’s nice.” Wilbur murmurs absentmindedly.
They were sent out a few hours ago to collect mushrooms for Dadza. Luckily, Wilbur knows all the best spots for them by now. Unluckily, Techno’s attention span lasts at most two minutes. So, while Wilbur is diligently collecting, Techno is bouncing all around him.
“Ooh, Wilbur look!” Techno coos behind him.
“That’s very cool.” Wilbur says without looking back. “You should go get it.”
“There’s something down there, I think. I hear… I don’t know. Should I go look?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, wish me luck!”
“Mhm.”
Wilbur snaps another mushroom off the ground. Then, there’s the sounds of rocks sliding together and a small grunt. There’s a coldness in his gut again. Something isn’t—
He turns around, and Techno is gone. His blood seems to stop in his veins. No, that’s not—No.
“Techno?!” Wilbur shoots to his feet.
“What?” A familiar small voice shouts from…
Wilbur runs towards Techno’s voice and—nearly falls face first into a small crater in the ground. The beginnings of a cave system. There aren’t any torches here, so Dadza must not have been here before. They shouldn’t—
But Techno is already standing down there amongst the stones. He stares up at Wilbur curiously, completely unaware. How can he be so dumb, doesn’t he know it’s—
Everything in Wilbur goes cold. Techno was right. Something’s down here. There’s a rattling. His eyes dart to the shadowy cave entrance. It’s too dark to see anything, but he hears the sound of a brittle string being pulled back.
He moves before he can think. His boots hit the bottom of the crater. Blood pounds heavy in his ears as he sprints towards Techno. He dives in front of him—and just in time.
There’s a blinding pain in his arm, so harsh the entire world seems to go black. Reality seems to fade from him. It’s so cold, why is it cold, why is it cold, why—
Above him, there’s a scream. It seems to come from a million miles away. Wilbur can only groan, pressing his temple further against the rocks under him. His entire body thrums with pain.
“Wilbur!” There’s another shout above him. This time, it’s enough to shock him back into his body. He comes to just as he’s rolled over onto his back. Terrified red eyes stare down at him.
“The skele—” Wilbur grunts.
“I took care of it!” Techno shouts, causing Wilbur’s ears to ring. “I—I…”
It’s then that Wilbur notices the sword Techno still carries. And, more importantly, the blood pooling between them.
“Oh.”
“Dad told me to protect you and I—” Tears well in Techno’s eyes. “I… We have to go, I have to get you to him. Maybe it’s not too late, maybe…”
Without warning Techno grabs Wilbur under the arms and pulls him to his feet. Wilbur can’t bite back a scream of pain. The world goes fuzzy again. It’s cold. Why is he so cold?
But there’s a warmth beside him. Techno trudges onward through the trees, dragging a delirious, bleeding Wilbur along. How he manages to get them back, Wilbur isn’t aware. Frankly, it’s something he never quite understands.
Once the house is in view, Techno begins screaming for Dadza. It doesn’t take long before a green figure is towering over them. Then, Wilbur is scooped up into his father’s arms.
“What happened?” Dadza depends as he ducks through the doorway.
“I.. it, I—” Techno can’t get his words out.
“Dammit, Will.” Dadza hisses, setting him down on the couch. “How many times do I have to tell you? You have to be careful. You can’t be—”
“It was my fault,” Techno is crying, Wilbur realizes distantly. “Please don’t be mad at him, it was me.”
Dadza takes a deep breath, before looking over his shoulder at Techno. “I’m not mad at anyone. Just… Go get my healing potions, okay? You remember where the first-aid kit is?”
Footsteps skitter away immediately, down the stairs into the storage room. Meanwhile, Dadza examines the wound. The arrow sticking out of Wilbur’s right arm. Disappointment seems to radiate off of him.
“You can’t do this, Will,” Dadza whispers, looking him dead in the eye. “You cannot put yourself in harm’s way like that.”
“I was trying to protect—” Wilbur feels like his throat is lined in cactus spikes.
“And I admire that. But he can take care of himself. I’ve made sure of that. But you…”
Tears well up in Wilbur’s eyes now, completely unrelated to the pain. He looks up at the ceiling. He was just trying to do what Dadza would want…
“I’m sorry…”
“Just…” Dadza sighs. “Please, Will. You have to take care of yourself.”
“I just wanted to protect him.”
“There’s more than one way to do that, and this… You’ve really scared him. That isn’t…”
Dadza rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking. He’s scared Dadza too, hasn’t he? He’s…
“He’s your brother now.” Dadza’s voice cracks. “You’re his brother now, so you can’t be… You can’t be doing things like this, okay?”
“Brother?” Wilbur whispers.
“Yes. And he needs you. I need you too, bub. So just… you can’t get hurt anymore, okay? You have to stay safe, above all else.”
“But Techno would’ve—”
“No buts. Say you understand me.”
Wilbur licks his lips.
“I understand.”
As his father patches him up, Techno curled up at his—at their father’s side—Wilbur gets the all-consuming feeling that nothing he does will ever be right. There will always be something and he will always be… wrong.
Nothing he does will ever be enough.
-
When Wilbur is twelve, Dadza brings another boy home.
He isn’t gone for nearly as long as when he found Techno. It’s barely a two day trip, actually. In fact, it hardly even sets in that Dadza is gone by the time he returns.
It’s a warm, cloudless day. All the doors and windows have been left propped open, letting the breeze through. Wilbur and Techno sit on the living room’s wooden floor. Back to the couch, Wilbur writes diligently in a notebook.
Beside him, Techno works on whittling a stick to a harsh point. His tongue peaks through his lips, just barely. It’s only noticeable because one of Techno’s protruding tusks recently fell out. It was quite a shock to Wilbur at the time. Techno enjoyed flailing the baby tusk around like a small knife.
Dadza took it away after Techno stabbed a river fish with it. They still ate the fish for dinner, though.
There’s the familiar shuttering of feathers, and the soft fall of feet out on the back porch. Wilbur is too engrossed in his writing to look up. Dadza will regale them over dinner as usual—
“Boys.” Dadza calls from the doorframe, unusually soft.
“Yeah, Dad?” Techno replies—always diligent. Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur sees him frown. Still, he doesn’t look up.
“C’mere, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Now that gets Wilbur’s attention. He shuts his journal, leaning forward to see Dadza properly. Whatever disgruntled words he wants to mutter get caught in his throat.
Clutching at the pant leg of his father is a tiny, blond boy. His bright blue eyes are wide as he stares between Techno and Wilbur. And he’s… young. Really young.
With a warm smile, Dadza reaches down to ruffle the small boy’s hair. “This is Tommy. Tommy this is Techno and Wilbur. They’re gonna help take great care of you now, okay?”
The boy—Tommy—only shrugs, sidling up closer to Dadza. The man laughs, not hesitating to scoop Tommy up. He murmurs quietly into Tommy’s hair, trying to calm him. A bitterness grows in Wilbur’s chest.
Philza used to do that with him. When it was just the two of them. Just them and no one else. No one else to take his attention, or to surpass Wilbur.
He forces himself to shake those thoughts away. They’re not right, he has to remind himself. He’s big now, Dadza wouldn’t treat him like he used to anyways…
Besides, he’s a brother now. He has to be better than that. Techno deserves it…
And well, apparently Wilbur has to watch over this runt too.
-
Unfortunately, Tommy is… not like Techno. Nothing like Techno. Not the good parts of him, anyways. There’s something eerily similar in their smiles when they pour water into an ant’s nest. Wilbur joins in with them though, so he can’t judge too much.
When he first arrived, Techno was quiet. Polite. And most importantly, he listened. Tommy is… not like that. Despite his lackluster vocabular and ability to string sentences together, he is immensely loud. And oddly boisterous, considering he’s barely out of diapers.
It hardly takes a day for Wilbur to grow tired of him. He begs his father late at night to just take the child away. Put it back where he found it. For the love of god please.
But Philza only laughs, ruffling his hair and telling him they’ll grow to love each other.
When Tommy throws his mushroom stew on Wilbur the next morning, cackling at the expression he makes, Wilbur decides no. He doesn’t think they will. But Philza loves the demon child, despite his clear evilness. Even Techno seems to like him.
And well, okay. Maybe he doesn’t annoy Wilbur all the time. He can be pretty cute sometimes. Mostly when he’s asleep, and not talking. Instead, curled up in Wilbur’s lap, snoring louder than any four-year-old should be able, contented with whatever story Wilbur has read him. No, Wilbur doesn’t mind him so much in those moments…
He makes playtime fun as well. His imagination is still fresh and overflowing. There’s a thrill he adds to their adventures Wilbur just couldn’t seem to bring. Not anymore, at least. He’s gotten a bit old for it all, he thinks…
But when Tommy ropes him into fantastical dragon fights and battles against sea monsters, it’s hard not to get into it. It’s hard to be mad, or bitter, or old. Because when Tommy smiles like the sun and laughs so hard it shakes his entire little body, everything seems okay.
They play in the sunshine, in the long grass. Somewhere above, their dad is looking over them, smiling contentedly. There’s laughter and faux punches thrown. Hair pulled and bruises gained. And it’s good. It’s good.
Everything is warm, and Wilbur smiles like tomorrow will never come.