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He is sparring, and he thinks he’s doing pretty good too. Techno lunges, swinging his wooden bokken to bring it down on the boy in front. Tommy carelessly leaps back, laughing at him.
“Is this all you got, Technoblade?” Tommy asks him, his glee free on his face.
Technoblade wipes off sweat from his brow, pushing wet strands of hair behind his ears. He grins back at him. “Tommy, don’t. Could make you shut up so easy.”
The clearing is quiet barring them. June’s late morning heat does nothing but contribute to the further soaking of their shirts. Techno vacantly recalls Phil saying he’d be near to watch over them, but he doesn’t see him. He’s collecting forest wood nearby, he assures himself.
“Try harder then.” Tommy says and rushes forward, bokken raised above his head. Techno easily dodges the blow, his braid swinging behind him. Tommy's momentum carries him forward.
Techno laughs loudly. He isn’t trying and he’s still winning.
Tommy’s back is turned and Techno could easily hit him and claim his victory but he doesn’t want to, he wants this to last as long as possible, wants to prolong this, to cherish the moment and savour it.
Tommy turns around, exhaling shakily.
“Did you try getting good, Tommy?” He teases him, and the younger boy scowls uglily.
“Well, you suck too,” he announces, chest heaving out of breath. Tommy’s face is red in exertion and his shock of blond hair lies flat on his head, dripping with sweat. “You aren’t good either.”
Techno quirks his brow at him. “You’re eight,” he scoffs at him. You are a baby, Tommy.”
“And you’re fucking ten, Technoblade,” Tommy blurts and Techno gasps.
“Language Tommy! Phil’s gonna kill you and then me for allowing you to say that.”
Tommy just grins at him cheekily and sticks out his tongue. “Phil’s gone,” he says, shrugging.
Techno doesn’t like that thought. He likes Phil.
He shoves aside the way his heart pangs at the thought of losing his dad and raises his bokken in an attacking stance. Wind rushes past him, Phil would never leave him, he vaguely catches Tommy’s look of surprise and the way his arms fail in front to defend his upper body, Phil’s always there, Techno’s brain repeats and he wields the bokken on his brother's unprotected shoulder.
Tommy collapses with a piercing yell, knees sinking to the ground.
Techno’s eyes widen in pure horror, the bokken slipping from his hand.
His brother lies dead on the ground.
Techno’s brain short circuits, horrible panic overriding other senses. All motion exits him, he just stands there, his feet shaky and the ground unsteady, as if attempting to pull him down. And then, everything goes black.
~
“-no? Techno! Thank god! Wake up.” He wakes to Phil’s hands shaking him. He doesn’t want to wake up, why doesn’t Phil understand that? The soil is damp and cool and Techno would like to stay where he is, thank you very much, hold Phil’s hand-
Recollection floods, and he jolts himself away from Phil in terror, his heart racing.
Tommy’s still lying on the ground, his small body limp. Techno’s hands tremble, Tommy’s right leg is sprawled out awkwardly, the other crushed under his body and Techno doesn’t trust himself anymore. He whirls around to look up at Phil to find his dad’s eyes steady on him.
Phil no longer wants anything to do with him. Phil doesn't want to even touch him.
He wants to scream, beg, plead, do anything to take all of them back to yesterday but he can’t. Technoblade can’t.
Blows of helplessness punch his gut, the dam inside finally breaking. Tears flow down unrestrained and he collapses on his knees.
"I- I'm s-so-orry-" He attempts to begin but sobs choke him.
Phil just watches from his great height with a quiet sort of intensity. This makes him sob harder.
"I’m s-sorry- Phil I didn’t mean to k-k-k-" He says, his voice rising as he gets more and more upset. Nausea and hysteria rides his bloodstream in equal amounts. “I-I didn’t mean to k-k-kill-” He heaves an exhausted exhale and then breaks down completely, doubling down with his sobs and furiously rubbing his eyes with grubby hands.
Suddenly, Phil’s hands are on his shoulders.
Phil kneels to match his son’s height. Techno’s hair is brushed away with gentle firmness, and Phil cups his chin. "It's okay, Techno. You're alright, mate," he tells him.
His tone is gentle and kind, and Techno certainly doesn’t deserve it.
“P-pl-please Phil I- I’m s-s-sorry-” He blabbers, senselessly.
"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it.” Phil repeats, wiping away some of the wetness on his cheek with his thumbs. “Hush,” he tells him, holding down his shoulders with a gentle pressure. Techno’s sobs temper down although silent tears continue to flow freely. Phil sighs and looks behind those short shoulders to address his youngest son. “Tommy, that’s it, stop. No more. You’re making Techno cry."
Techno’s eyes widen and he whirls around. Tommy opens one of his eyes, squinting at them.
“Phil, why! You ruined it! I hate you!” He grumbles and Phil just stares at him mildly. “Fine,” he sits up and pouts. “I’ll wake up now.”
Techno makes a loud strangling sound in his throat.
He twists to face Phil furiously. “Why– what the hell, Phil! Why did you let him–” and Phil shrugs, suppressing a half smile.
Tommy makes no such attempt to suppress. He laughs at him from behind. “Did you try getting good, Technoblade?” He sneers, mocking him with his own phrase. There's a considering pause. “I’m super believable, aren’t I?” He adds, subtly asking for feedback, perhaps because life progresses on continuous improvement.
Techno glares and makes a dive for his throat. Tommy yelps and scrambles onto his feet quickly to dash away and Techno chases after him.
The early afternoon sun streams into the clearing, lingering in the empty space, draping everything in warmth and gold.
“I am going to kill you for real now!” Comes a murderous declaration.
“Please Technoblade, believe me! It was only for funsies!” A shrill victim begs for mercy.
Philza picks up his chopped wood from the ground and stands in the heart of the clearing. Ears buzzing with Tommy's playful pleads and Techno’s angry yells as they make chase, he just lugs the bundle of timber on one side and shakes his head softly, a tender smile playing constant on his lips.