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When Phil first started hearing the voices, he thought he was going insane. He was just a lone survivalist, and had wandered in a cave one day thinking just to grab some iron and maybe a diamond or two if he’s lucky. He didn’t expect to be jumped by a baby zombie with gold armor enchanted with something that made it nearly impossible to kill with the limited amount of gear that Phil brought to a trip that was supposed to be quick, while being flanked by a spider and a skeleton.
The near death experience scared him, barely able to make it out. Then the Voices came. Whispering things that were random at times, helpful at best, downright murderous at worst.
He learnt to deal with them though. He learned to shut the weird voices down, while laughing at the funnier voices’ jokes. He learned not to give in to the murderous voices’ desires. The voices were the easiest to handle when he had picked up all three of his sons, Techno, Wilbur and Tommy. The murderous ones were not directed at his loved ones, or rather the ones that may harm them. The weird voices were nonexistent, and the rest of them were delighted at their relationship as if they had never experienced things like this before. He remembered catching one voice mumble something about loving found family, and another mumbling something about their family dynamic healing their soul.
The voices only started riling up after joining the DreamSMP, but like before, Phil had shut them down before they managed to start anything. Sometimes, he thought he heard muffled crying among the voices. He knew for a fact some of the voices were screaming when he stabbed Wilbur, amplifying his pain and grief. The voices were divided now, some parts of them wanting him with Techno, some other parts wanting him to side with Tommy.
Phil had always carried those voices. He was the first who got them, and he was the one who handled them best.
---
Out of the four, Techno was the second to receive the voices. He hadn’t lived with them his entire life as he had led others to believe. From what he could figure out on the timeline, he got his voices a few days after Phil got his. He remembered the day he got them so clearly. A BedWars windstreak, harmless, right? Definitely not in the place where he grew up. Instead of tagging people and pretending they’re dead like in other servers, his was a server who forced people to fight for the Admins’ entertainment.
At first, Techno thought the voices were just the audiences’ voices haunting his mind win after win. That was until they warned him of intruders near his bed. That was strictly against the audience rules, and there were hundreds - no, thousands - of voices screaming at him to watch his bed. Thousands of voices chanting for blood.
It was a while before he managed to get out, with the voices’ guidance. It was a while before he was led to Phil, who helped him. During the time between his escape and his meeting with Phil, Techno had followed the voices’ wishes, slaughtering the wildlife as per their wishes. They wanted blood, they weren’t used to the lack of red ever since leaving the server he came from.
They died down a little after the one time he nearly killed his younger brothers. Tommy especially was terrified. He had yelled at the voices in his head, shocking them into a small moment of silence and dying down a little ever since then. Most found comfort just joking. Phil was proud of his progress in rearing in his voices.
The voices only riled up again after DreamSMP, after the first betrayal by Wilbur and Tommy. Then they only got louder and louder after the second betrayal by Tommy.
Techno had bent to the wishes of his voices during his lowest points. He was the second who got the voices, and he harnessed the voices’ wishes to his benefit.
---
Wilbur was the third to get his voices. They had started small, just one or two voices whispering at a time about how everyone had betrayed him. Then more joined in on how everyone was lying to them, until thousands had gathered. Among those thousands of voices, there were perhaps ten or twenty voices assuring him that he had allies in this world, their main argument being Tommy.
For a time, these voices had managed to keep the other, more negative voices at bay. Wilbur had considered asking Techno to help him manage the voices, he had considered pleading. But no, he can’t trust him. After the haunting voice of Schlatt announcing to the world that he’s exiled, the words of his own son disowning him, and Tommy’s sputters of disbelief as the two fled for their lives. He found it hard to trust in anyone.
He could handle the voices alone. He could handle them. He had the help of some of the very same voices to help him combat the others. He’s fine, he can handle himself.
After the Festival, Wilbur realized he couldn’t handle the voices by himself. But at this point, who could he trust to help? Technoblade had followed Schlatt’s orders to execute Tubbo. Tommy was increasingly hostile to everyone that wasn’t Tubbo. And Tubbo…… As nice of a kid he was, Wilbur wasn’t sure he could trust him either. Could Schlatt have staged it? Why would he cause such a show, knowing Tubbo wasn’t even on his last life? Everything was oh so suspicious, and Wilbur found it hard to trust anyone at all.
Yes yes yes yes, they’re all betraying you. All your enemies. You don’t know them anymore. TNT. Explosion. L’Manberg is poison. L’Manberg ruined relationships. L’Manberg change people. Get rid of L’Manberg. Don’t let the others stop you. Use them only. They’re all lying to you.
You’re overthinking things.
No no no no, they’re all betraying you. They’re all your enemies. You don’t know them anymore. TNT. Explosion. L’Manberg is poison. L’Manberg ruined relationships. L’Manberg change people. Get rid of L’Manberg. Don’t let the others stop you. Use them only. They’re all lying to you.
The voices seem to adore the button linked to redstone. It seemed to adore the little room carved into a hill and the little bits of TNT littered about the room. The voices went mad when Wilbur, in his broken state, had scratched the lyrics of the L’Manberg National Anthem with some switches on his own, onto the walls of the very same little room.
The voices’ surprise was apparent when Phil had suddenly appeared at the narrow doorway leading to the little room. His grey wings here folded and blue eyes seeming cold. The voices quieted when his Father spoke four words that sent chills down his spine.
“What are you doing.”
It was not even a question. It was a statement probing for his answer. Wilbur wanted to cry with the relief and silence that his mind had been allowed the luxury of for just one moment. Then the voices came back, more divided this time. But the majority still begged for him to push the button. Some of the voices had the brilliant idea of having him say the line another traitor once said in front of another button linked to massive amounts of explosives.
A tearful smile filled with the longing of silence and peace was on Wilbur’s face as his eyes glistened and glanced out beyond the thin walls that allowed the sounds of battle to seep in, “It was never meant to be.”
A sound so great tore into his ear, but he stood his ground. The sound of the explosion drowned out the cheers and cries alike of the voices in his head, and the dust was smeared onto his face along with tears of both joy and regret. He saw the shock on his Dad’s face after he did what he did. His ears rang, and Wilbur begged it to continue ringing, lest he had to hear the voices again.
He couldn’t read lips, and as he began to hear the little bits of the voices creep in the back of his now cleared mind. He had only one desire: Prolonged silence.
“Phil- Kill me. Stab me with the sword,” He pressed a sword with an iridescent, blue blade onto his dad’s hands. The sword’s glow indicated that it was enchanted. At least he’d die faster.
“No- I can’t- You’re my son!” He could faintly register the tears glistening in his Dad’s eyes as the voices started to grow louder in panic.
“Kill me!” Wilbur raised his voice, tears rolling down his own cheeks as the voices got louder and louder and he hated it, “KILL ME!” He was screaming that now. His throat had hurt after that desperate scream, that desperate plea. He felt cold metal pass through his chest as he slumped into someone’s arms.
Was that someone shaking? Was that someone crying?
“T-Thank you,” Wilbur mumbled softly as he felt the voices’ volume diminish along with the draining of his life.
Wilbur was the third to receive his voices. Wilbur had allowed the voices to fester and grow, and he had lost himself while trying to run from the mingling sounds in his mind. At least his mind was quiet now.
---
Tommy was the last of his family to receive his voices. The first voice came briefly after the events of November 16th had settled. A small voice clearing its throat inside his mind, whispering something comforting? He thought its mannerisms sounded a little like Wilbur. Tommy couldn’t discern what it said due to its small volume and his own fatigue. He had brushed it off as his imagination and grieving mind feeding him hallucinations of the ear.
They started gaining numbers and got louder after he burned down George’s house. And during the whole drama before he got exiled. They fed into his feelings of unjust and helplessness. They fed into his doubts. Sometimes Tommy felt like the voices hated him, but sometimes he felt like they loved him. He wasn’t sure what they wanted, but he wasn’t about to try. He got enough problems of his own outside of those staying within his own mind.
Then it only got worse when he was in exile. He had to deal with voices both inside and outside of his head. If he turned inwards, he had thousands of voices arguing with each other about their wants and the next course of actions welcoming him. If he turned outwards, he had the single voice of someone he despised that he clung to.
Tommy was so done with voices.
He had decided to keep talking to the minimum, both with his own thoughts and voice. He was so tired of hearing voices, but Dream and the voices in his head would coax him into talking, lest his throat fall into disuse. At least the voices did something good sometimes, keeping him from dying.
It was the voices inside his head that coaxed him into descending from his tower safely and running to Techno. Some of the voices were cheering and crying from relief. Apparently they had enjoyed him, Wilbur, Techno and Phil being a family? He had told them off, saying that the family was done for the moment Wilbur had died. The voices didn’t like it.
They were chanting “RaccoonInnit” for quite a while when he hid under Techno’s base, half dead from the cold and his own malnourishment.
He had considered talking to Techno about the voices, but he brushed the idea off. Everytime he thought about trusting Techno with something so personal, his mind played the picture of Techno shooting Tubbo with a rocket launcher. He tried to push it aside, but it just kept coming up. He tried to open his mouth and tell Techno what was going on inside his head, but it was like he was physically incapable of doing so.
“Techno?”
“Yes?”
Red blue white. Fireworks. Podium. Death. Lots of death. Blood. Death.
“...”
“Nevermind.”
The voices had urged him to choose between Techno and Tubbo when Techno told him of his plans to abolish L’Manberg once again. It had sent his voices into such a riot that it left him unable to talk as the arguing in his head drowned out all other voices. He remembered shaking and swallowing nervous gulps of saliva.
“No! Techno gave you so much, do NOT betray him!”
“Tubbo is your best friend for fuck’s sake!”
“L’Manberg betrayed you!”
“Techno betrayed you first! He killed Tubbo!”
“Techno hid you from Dream! He had nothing to gain from keeping you and yet he did!”
“You were so very clear about your intentions of not blowing up L’Manberg! If you ‘betray’ Technoblade, he should’ve seen it coming! It’s the same logic as him betraying you during the Pogtopia days!”
“Shut up Tommy-Apologist #69! Don’t listen to the guy’s essays!”
“You shut up! Your arguments are baseless!”
“Tommy for the love of Prime just give us our SBI family dynamic crumbs please.”
“Is it still too late to run away…?”
“ You can always write your fanfiction of runaway AUs if canon hurts too much. There’s lots on Ao3.”
“Fourth wall……”
“Oops.”
Tommy wondered if Wilbur had voices too, and if that was the reason why he went insane. He can’t blame Wilbur for going insane if he also had thousands of voices screaming in his head constantly. He felt his heart clench and tears spring into his eyes. Wilbur would know what to do.
Tommy was there when the voices went berserk after making his choice. He wanted to cry. What did they want from him?! He sometimes would break down alone, digging his fingers into his scalp begging them to stop. Some would silence themselves, but the louder ones would never shut up. They would be trying to get a say in changing pasts that were already set in stone.
Tommy didn’t know whether it was lucky or not that he was good at acting his old self. He didn’t know whether it was lucky or not that he managed to hide his now broken and different self so well that nobody noticed.
Tommy was the third to receive his voice. His voices cannot decide on a single thing, stuck in a constant war within itself. The voices caused the boy to break himself from inside out.
---
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Bonus: The four people bearing voices of their own finally get together to have one conversation, revealing the existence of the two previously hidden voices. Two of whom were living just fine with the voices, two of whom were destroyed by the voices that haunt their dreams.
---
Tommy surveyed the lands. A lot of people were absent, something to do with an Egg. He remembered it. It tried to twist him to its side, but Tommy could barely hear it over the uproar that were his own voices. He did not want another one added to the lot. It was surprisingly easy to reject a voice that all his other voices despised.
Wilbur’s ghost hovered next to the blonde boy who was trying his best to keep his composure. It was truly Wilbur’s ghost, not Ghostbur. The ghost that bore all of Wilbur’s memories, both good and bad. Although he couldn’t hear the voices anymore, he remembered them very clearly. He had learned to treasure silence after the experience. That did not mean he was free. He still slept from time to time, and everytime he fell asleep he could hear the voices grasping at his dreaming mind. Death did not destroy them, it merely threw them outside his castle walls, leaving them to claw at the windows that were his dreams.
Techno and Phil stood side by side, their blue uniforms standing out among the fields of green and grey. Their own respective voices were calm over the course, although some were excited at the sight of the other two members of their family for various reasons. Ranboo wasn’t there, which was a little surprising to Tommy. Much like how he was when the voices couldn’t decide, Tommy wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. He wasn’t sure of anything.
There was a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, Tommy glanced up to see Wilbur’s hands resting on his shoulders. The smile was so painfully familiar and reminded him of times when his mind was actually quiet, when they all got along, when he was sure of everything, when he was happy-
His breath shook as he struggled to force words out of his mouth, “What are you doing here?”
“I heard there was some sort of government forming, even though it might not have been explicitly called that,” Techno’s voice replied.
“He’s referring to Snowchester!”
Yes, voice. Tommy knew that. Such useful information, Tommy noted quietly in his head, voice dry and devoid of emotion, filled to the brim with impatient sarcasm. He chuckled a little under his breath, he might’ve picked up a bit more from Techno than he thought.
“I’m not part of that,” Tommy reminded him. Again, the voices were pummelling his mind and ever fragile walls. What once was made of stone were worn down over months of constant battering rams slamming itself against it. It’s now nothing more than a thin sheet of glass that can barely hold anything in. And yet the voices with their ever constant battering rams continued their assault in getting a say in things, to have their own conflicting versions of ideal reality come true.
“You’re still in the way.” Tommy didn’t know who spoke that. Techno or Phil? He didn’t know. All he could hear was the sound of his already stretched thin restraint snapping and the sound of the glass walls he used to contain his voices and keep his persona upfront shattering into thousands of pieces. All he could hear were voices gripping at this opportunity to have themselves heard, to pitch their options like some desperate and pathetic salesman.
“Shut up,” Tommy whispered as unknowingly, tears started streaming down his face. The sight of Tommy randomly crying confused the three present, as they stepped closer.
“Please, for the love of Prime, shut up,” Tommy hiccuped, eyes now squeezed shut and now aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the floor. “Shut up- Shut up- Just shut up please .”
His voices became louder and more stretched, “Shut up! Fuckin- You’re living in my head, I should be the one to decide shit! So why won’t you bastards shut up?! ” His voice was laced with hiccups as his eyes were still closed, and voice started raising. He could faintly register a sharp intake of breath from Phil…...? Or was it Wilbur?
“ VOICES! I CAN’T SIDE WITH TUBBO AND TECHNO AT THE SAME TIME WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” Tommy pried his eyes open after he felt someone put both hands on his shoulders, steadying his trembling body. The hands looked translucent, and the figure wore a brown coat. Wilbur……?
“Tommy, deep breaths,” A deep voice reached his ear, “In and out. Pause. In and out. Pause. Repeat.” Techno……?
“Tommy’s voices, don’t be pushy,” A different voice found its way into his ear, “Give him breathing space. I don’t know how many of you there are, but you have to learn to calm. None of you are getting what you want if you keep this up.” Phil……?
Surprisingly, the voices were quieting.
“Listen to my voice, follow it.” Another voice said, and Tommy blinked. “Try to ignore the voices in your head. Focus on what is actually reaching your ear. Block them out. Listen to me. I’m going to keep talking, okay? Have you ever heard about anteaters? Well they’re ugly ass motherfuckers-” Tommy did as he was told through the haze of panicked tears and broken shells.
He blinked after calming enough, his blue eyes focusing on each of his family members. The concerned dark brown eyes staring into his shattered blue ones, the mouth below it moving about how much anteaters were a menace to humanity and deserved to die. Red eyes that barely showed any emotions, but emitted a calming aura. Blue eyes of a slightly darker shade than his that shone with concern and…… remorse?
“I- I think I’m fine,” Tommy’s voice was small but caught the attention of the three that surrounded him. Wilbur stopped talking about the anteaters and gave him a reassuring smile. Techno didn’t look like he hated his guts, and Phil just looked sad. Tommy broke.
“F-Fuck,” He hiccuped, “I’m sorry, Techno. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t- I swear I didn’t just see you as a weapon. I promise- I promise you were like- No, you are my big brother. I just can’t- You’re a person yeah I see that I always did. I- fucking. Please don’t hate me more than what they’ve been telling me- ”
“Tommy,” Techno’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, “I don’t hate you.” Techno knew that’s what Tommy needed to hear, and although the last four words came out after hesitation, Tommy visibly calmed. After a few moments of calm and letting the youngest catch his breath, Phil was the one asking questions.
“Tommy, if it’s alright with you, when… When did you start hearing the voices?” Phil asked, “I- I want to know how long you’ve been dealing with them.”
“There were maybe one to ten really quiet ones after Wilbur died,” Tommy sucked in a breath, “They were really nice. T-Then more of them started showing up during the whole business with them talking about exiling me. And even more showed up during the exile a-and they were so loud. Phil, they were so loud-”
“Nobody noticed how fucked I was,” Tommy’s voice was quiet, “Nobody noticed how fucked I was……”
Then he seemed to regain some of his previous composure, forcing a grin on his face, “But I can deal with them- I always had. I’m a big man. Big men can deal with voices.”
“No you can’t,” Wilbur was the one talking now. “Nobody can handle thousands of voices alone. Heck, I’m pretty sure Phil and Techno had each other to balance that shit out. I had to deal with it alone and look at what I resorted to.”
“You what?!” Phil looked taken aback, “You had voices too? W-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell Techno?”
Wilbur took a deep breath, “They started coming a bit after Schlatt exiled us. Then they got loud. Really loud. T-They tell me that…… Everyone’s my enemy. They’re all lying to get on my side just to stab me in the back later. I guess that’s why I went insane?” He let out a slightly broken laughter. “I wanted them to quiet. In hindsight, what I did was dumb but do I regret it? Not really? It’s quiet and it’s so nice having my head all to myself.”
He cleared his throat, “But my point still stands, Tommy. Nobody can handle the voices alone. I tried, then I pleaded for Dad to kill me just for some much needed peace and quiet. You tried to handle it alone, and the voices practically destroyed you inside out, Tommy. Talk to us. ”
Tommy’s light blue eyes regained some of its former spark and splendor, glancing at each of his family members. Techno wasn’t looking in his direction, Wilbur was full of concern and Phil was the embodiment of shock and regret.
“You guys don’t hate me right?” His voice came out hoarse and small, like the child he was supposed to be.
“I already said I don’t hate you,” Techno turned, sighing a little with fists clenched, and although Tommy had a feeling that the slight motions of anger was directed at him, he averted his sight. “I’m pretty sure Wil and Phil don’t hate you too.”
Wilbur let a ghostly hand tentatively reach out and ruffle Tommy’s hair like the old days. Back then, he would’ve swatted his hands away indignantly, saying that he’s not a child and didn’t need to stand shit like this. Wilbur would laugh, and Phil would be smiling in the background. Techno would complain about them interrupting his reading, but his smile was clear as day and Tommy would feel a thrill of joy.
Now? Tommy noticed the voices were quiet. There were some muffled ones, but it seems the voices had taken their war to silencing one another and not screaming over one another. They’re still chaotic as ever, but with his family’s help, Tommy’s positive he could deal with them.