Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cold was harsh and the wind rough against your unadjusted skin. You barely had the cloth to cover up in defense, but you make do. Anything out here has to be better than the insanity that resides in the more temperate areas. Even the nether was crawling with conflict, more than the normal amount.

You had heard about the wars ravaging the countrysides, L’manburg and SMP union, always at the others throat, and you were not one to go looking for trouble where trouble was not already looking for you.

You made it a habit to inhabit safe zones and avoid most conflicts thus far, but when the conflict got a bit too close for comfort when a child was exiled you fled. It was easy enough to pack up what little belongings you needed and set off for the tundra.

Once again you blow fabric out of your mouth and blink into the blinding blizzard. No signs of life from what little was within sight. It would be perfect. Now all you’d need was an outcropping and a small fire to huddle next to before starting to build. All you really craved was a nice warm cottage far away from people and their issues.

Turns out an outcropping would be too much to ask for. The hills weren’t tall enough to huddle against and the mountains too steep to hope for any shelter. It was like the gods were working against you. It wouldn’t be too out of character if what you’d heard of this dream character was true.

A selfish god, causing chaos for his own joy, and pulling at people’s goals like strings on a puppet to dance them around on his own little plot. One of the biggest reasons you’d fled. People like that made you far too uneasy, even when they weren’t aiming that at you. It was hard to stand by once you found yourself softening to those under control, you had too much of a soft heart to be getting involved in politics like these.

You hated politics more than you hated conflict. It was just organized conflict, and it felt almost worse. The way it felt like it could fill up a room and flood out the doors when two people would fight over the simplest of issues facing a country. It felt like stuffing cotton into your head and then letting soak up water to push at your skull. At least physical altercations resulted in something more than tension running over every surface and sticking like thick blood to warm skin.

The thoughts numb you to the cold as you feel yourself wanting to escape them. You wish to be in any other situation than stuck in your own thoughts. In your own thoughts about what you hated no less. You shiver and shake yourself out of the spiral you had started to trudge straight into.

It’s easy to lean into the smooth rock next to you. It’s colder than you are, but it’s something to ground you. You were here, so very far from people and you were safe. You had the materials to make a cabin, and you would be able to stay for a while.

It would be so nice.

Once the snow calmed down at least. You find yourself drifting off even with the cold trying to deep into your bones. It’s all you can do to set up a small fire before the darkness curls tightly around you like a blanket and you slink into the kindness of sleep.

She holds you like a mother, and you sleep heavy and like the dead. The cold seeps into your lungs as you rest and it keeps your breath shallow. Far too shallow for anyone to notice if they just so happened to come out to investigate the new light source just a little ways from their own house.

Maybe even concerning enough that an extra blanket slips from their hands and tucked around you to lessen the violent shivering. Maybe those same hands add wood to the dwindling fire and make a silent promise to watch from their window to make sure it didn’t blow out in the night.

Just a simple hypothetical, not that that would ever happen. Anyone who may have lived around these parts would be much too cold and uncaring to do such things. He would only care for those who cared back. And a sleeping, maybe half dead person in the snow would not have earned that yet, if you asked him.

If you asked him, the spare blanket he’d been working on had landed in a mud puddle and he left it, finding his project no longer good enough to gift to his mentor. If you asked about the missing wood he would shrug and blame termites sooner than he would admit anything could be amiss. He wasn’t one to hand out kindness willy nilly.

So it was just a hypothetical.

One you can’t question when you wake warmer than you fell to sleep. With the blizzard still going you barely notice the extra blanket, mostly brushing over it to add a log to the fire and get started on the foundations of your house.

Not a home. That would take a long while. You weren’t the type to make a place a home in an instant. You didn’t have the energy required, and you certainly didn’t have the keepsakes to force a homey vibe.

The work is simple enough, and it’s distracting you from the cold. Eventually you start another fire on the stony floor you had set into the ground to bring what little warmth you can into the space. It’s another little kindness.

Little kindnesses to yourself was what you wrapped your heart in on the lonelier nights. You were too soft to make attachments in this world, but it wasn’t that you didn’t ache for them. You wished for the bond most of those violent people shared, but safety had to be your number one concern.

You falter in your work, taking a moment to sit on the solid progress you’ve made and stare up at the smoke rising into the snowy skies. A smile rests on your face as snowflakes fall only to melt against your skin. You have to let yourself believe this place is safe. You can almost feel the aura of begrudging sweetness, the area not wanting you to live here, but getting used to your existence and maybe growing a soft spot for you.

It was like you and sleep once more. That oh so sweet relationship that truly only benefited you, and that on most nights you had to chase to the brink of exhaustion. No matter how much sleep loved you, she was a fickle one with how she showed it. After sleeping so well in the snow you know you won’t sleep like that again until your house is complete.

You blink up again, noticing you must have taken a break for much longer than originally planned, the clouds melting away to reveal ice blue sky. It’s a beautiful sight, and you find yourself sitting up, inspired to finish what you had started.

The stones brush your rough palms as you place them and you block out any other noise. Even the crackling of the fire, or brushing of fabric against the stone floor. You don’t even notice the crunching of snow.

The steps are heavy and slow, the owner far too distracted with the “spare” blanket in his arms and extra logs he’d brought just in case. He’d seen the fire die down in the past hour and had felt a tug of concern in his chest, and in his thoughts to be completely honest. For some reason they were silent on you. They didn’t scream to kill you like they did most others, but they also didn’t scramble in affection like they did Phil. It was enough to cause the man to care if you died of hypothermia.

His steps falter when he sees you up and working on a base. That wasn’t optimal. He was hoping you’d wander off on your own, pick someplace more suited to your needs. Even he hated how cold this place got.

The folded blanket by your bags was enough to snap him out of his staring at you and remember his original goal. You seemed so distracted that you may not even notice him adding to your supplies. It's not like he could just walk away, he’d already brought it out here. Might as well finish what he’d started.

However you do notice when the hulking figure gets near your bag. You react like a bear has just found something of interest in your pack and it’s all you can do it fall back and watch what unravels.

It’s not a bear… it’s a man? Pig ears twitch against the falling snow, so he’s not a human man. He doesn’t even take anything, just refolds your blanket.. blankets?

“Um…. hello?” Your voice is small and your throat is dry when you speak. It’s probably a mistake. You shouldn’t have reacted, just waited until he left. This was bad, you were in danger, you should run, who cares about the pack-

He stumbles back at the noise, so much softer than he’d expected out of any reaction. He’d expected a yell or something in the vein. He doesn’t offer a smile, knowing most people found it intimidating and seeing as you hadn’t been scared yet he didn’t want to break that.

“Hullo. I was just-“ he holds up the blanket and a log trying to explain.

“Why? I don’t know you, you don’t owe me anything..”

“Yeah, but you looked cold…”

The silence stretches and you blink at the man for a moment before letting your shoulders drop. He didn’t seem dangerous. You could handle this.

“Thank you.” Is all you say, your smile too faint to even call it that but the words make his shoulders droop as well. You crawl over to your pack, and he shifts away as you dig through it. You pull out an apple and a loaf of bread.

It’s not much, but you hold it out to him, not meeting his eyes. It takes a moment but he accepts them and tucks them away under his cloak.

You look up and see his gaze turned soft and you reach out again, this time with just your open hand. He takes it and his rough voice rolls out in a low mumble.

“I’m Technoblade. Your neighbor.”

What a strange neighbor.

Chapter Text

He stayed for a while longer, huddled up in his cloak and sat in the snow by your pack. You wouldn’t let him help you assemble the floor, but you don’t run him off either. You didn’t even say much when you let go of his hand, not more than a nod and warm glance before you went back to work.

You honestly reminded him of some kind of cat. You didn’t show affection, or what he thought was your affection, in any way he’d ever experienced. Phil was so verbal and physical with his kindness that it was hard to adjust. You just gave him food and turned your back to him.

He wouldn’t admit that it had warmed him up to you when the food had been pressed into his hands. That’s ridiculous, and no voices were there to tell him off for it as he watched you.

Your body language was what did most of the talking for you. Immediately turning your back to him was a sign of trust if he remembered correctly. So is the relaxed shoulders and trusting him near your only supplies. 

It was nice to know he didn’t scare everyone off.

You on the other hand were paying just as much attention to him. Despite not looking at him while you worked you could hear it when he relaxed into the snow. You could hear when he pulled off a piece of the bread you handed him and you can’t fight the smile that curls onto your lips.

You try your hardest to keep focused on the task under your hands but it’s hard to keep the same level of craft up when you want to learn more about your neighbor. What was he doing all the way out here? Where was his house? Why was he sticking around?

It was just whirring around your head like a hummingbird so by the time you place the stone into the floor you are almost buzzing with nerves. You turn and sit on the finished floor, legs crossed and eyes immediately scanning him.

“You done with that then?” He grumbles, voice still low and relaxed. 

“Mhm, for now. I have to put up the support beams later.” You point to a few spots dug out for logs. He actually lets you ramble for a bit about the house before you wind down and look back to him.

“So you’re set on living here.” He doesn’t really ask, but you nod anyway.

“Yeah, I was actually wondering just how far off you are. I don’t want to encroach on property lines.” He fights off a smile. Someone else who respects property and it’s value. 

“You’re good here. I’m over there, same with my farms and stables.” You look to where he points and with the snow dying down you can see his Tudor style cottage in the distance. It was pretty from here, you know it would be gorgeous up close. 

Your plans for the house might not live up to his skills, but you would try. For some reason he made you want to try more than you had before. Maybe neighbors would be good for you, especially one who seems so kind and relaxed. You could see staying here even if a bit of conflict licked at the edges. Maybe.

Eventually you both grow silent again and you lay back, eyes to the sky. You hear him copy you and bite back a warm laugh. Was this friendship? Cause it sure felt like it. 

It felt warm enough to melt the snow, a pile of flickering embers in your chest. Warmer than a hug and softer than plush bedding. It had been so long since you’d had this that you let it overwhelm you. It’s obvious in the way you tap fervently against the ground and your hand pats at your chest in the muffled snowy silence. You can only hope he doesn’t mind it.

“Do you do this often?” Oh he does… “the moving thing? You’re kinda fast with building, it’s fun to watch.” Oh..

He didn’t mind. He didn’t find you strange. How comforting. You don’t fight the smile.

“Only when I need to. I don’t like most other people, and I definitely don’t enjoy when they’re loud.” It was the simplest way to explain. The loudness was the worst part of conflict. You could never calm your heart when it got too loud.

You don’t see his face, which is lucky for him. He can’t help but smile. He wasn’t included in most people. Usually when people said that it was used against him, but he supposed he didn’t mind it this time. He was supposed to like his neighbors right? That’s what Phil would want at the very least. 

You got along well enough at the very least. You were interesting to talk to. The bonus of no voices was good as well. It was strange and his head felt empty, but it wasn’t the worst feeling.

With you aching for friendship and him interested in you, the conversation flows freely. You talk back and forth, sharing thoughts about everything from trees, to how spruce wood worked so well against the snow. He mentions his potato farm and you laugh softly, remembering your own farms at previous houses. They were all overgrown by now, and you offer to help him in his. The work would be good once you finished your house.

It’s only the light growing warm with dusk that either of you realize just how long you’ve been sitting. The fire had died to embers and with the sun sinking so did the temperature. You can’t fight the shiver that takes over your form. 

Technoblade looks over when the chattering of your teeth stops your voice. Seeing you so cold sets off something in the back of his head. Without thinking he throws a blanket over you. He almost picks you up to wrap in his cape, but he still is too nervous to break what he saw as a fragile lack of fear. Instead he stokes the fire and adds fuel, as well as passing you another blanket. 

You don’t stop shivering, but you watch him move around your camp with a strange grace at the same time you can see a panic well up in his chest. The sight sends a bolt of distress through you and you raise a hand to pull at his cape when he passes you again.

He turns to fix it but stops when he sees you holding tight to it. You look so small huddled in those blankets with the soft glow of dusk on your cheeks. His face drops when he realizes you still haven’t warmed in the slightest, but doesn’t move, letting you lead.

You crack the smallest of comforting smiles and look to where your hand grips the heavy fabric. It’s warm after being next to his skin. You take a heavy breath, the air coming out as fog and you look up to him again.

“I’m alright you know. You don’t have to fuss, you should go back home before the weather gets worse.” It’s a soft suggestion to get him to calm down, maybe an assurance that you would still be here in the morning but when you say home something clicks in his eyes.

“You should come with me.” 

“What? I’ll be fine, I just need to sit next to the fire-“

“It will be warmer. Just for the night?” You can’t fight him when he asks like that so you just sigh and nod. 

You huff as you stand and gather what few things you’ll need for the night. Mostly just blankets and food, but it’s quick. The two of you set off to his house just as the wind picks up. It does nothing to help your shivering, but what does help is when the heavy fabric of the cloak is draped over your shoulder and you are walking right next to Technoblade.

He doesn’t even acknowledge it when you try to thank him, just a grunt and a shrug. 

“It’s the neighborly thing to do I think.” You can’t help but laugh.

He decides that your laugh is the best sound you make. It’s just so full of true joy, even muffled by the blankets and shaken by the cold. He knows the feeling of friendship from Phil, but this is softer. Like the beginning of it. None of the pushing and play fighting that comes with Phil or his nephews, it’s gentle and worried that the flame will die before it starts. 

He doesn’t want that, so he fans the blistering coals with small acts of simple kindness. And when you return them in kind it makes it much easier to admit that maybe he needs more than just Phil. Neighbors can’t be that awful, as long as they weren’t L’manburg.

“They’re nice”

“We should keep them!”

“They aren’t phil…”

“They aren’t a dog either, just be nice!”

Great. The voices were back. At least they liked you. And they wanted him to pull you into his arms to keep warm. That might be a bit much. Instead he just has you sit next to his fireplace and puts his cloak completely on you. That would be just as warm as a hug right? That’s all the voices wanted. To keep you warm.

“No”

“They’re going to smell like you”

“The cape is going to smell like THEM”

“E”

“Shh, technosoft”

That’s it.

You lose yourself watching the flames and burying your face in the collar of his cloak. It’s so warm that you can’t help it. You stop shivering and end up in a soft trance in the flames. You don’t notice Technoblade moving around in the background, but you don’t mind it either. You felt safe and warm. 

This was better than sleep.

Chapter Text

The fire flickers late into the night. It was smart to huddle up in Technoblade’s house, as the snow and wind had only grown worse since you’d settled in. You could both hear the howling outside, but it was plenty warm enough for you both in here. The cup of warm tea pressed into your hand had a hand in helping.

Eventually you shed the blankets and cape, moving from the floor to the armchair across from him. You don’t look at him as you do, which is good because he would hate to make you feel guilty. The voices grew loud at that, warring against one another.

“THATS PHIL’S SPOT”

“?????”

“they look so cozy tho”

“They better not replace Phil, sleepybois is way better”

“Let them be! It’s good content!”

He rolls his eyes and pulls out a book to drown them out. His short reprieve was over it seemed. They wouldn’t even quiet down enough for him to read.

It’s only when you speak up that they silence for a moment.

“What are you reading?” It’s not that you don’t enjoy the quiet, but the lack of exhaustion is keeping you up so you may as well learn more about Technoblade.

“Umm,” he turns the book over to look at the cover, it’s an old gifted book that he hadn’t opened in a while, “Grimm’s fairy tales? I thought I’d grabbed some Greek mythos…” you can’t help the laugh that escapes and techno gives a low rumble in return. You assume it’s a laugh as well.

“You seriously don’t know what you’ve been reading for the past twenty minutes?” You tease softly, hoping you weren’t pushing too far.

“Twenty- I was distracted.” He rubs the back of his neck and moves to put it away but his hand stalls when you speak again.

“Would you read to me? If it’s not a big deal, I mean. I just haven’t heard any stories in a long time..” the sheepish grin on your face and rosy cheeks is all you need to convince him. He adjusts in his seat and settles down. He picks a decent story and starts reading aloud, barely acknowledging you even asked.

His voice is a low timbre that pulls you into the words as they roll off the page. It’s easy to get lost in them and you can feel the way they wrap around you like a well made sweater. You find yourself floating in it, with your eyes drifting open and closed. It doesn’t take much longer for his voice to lull you into sleep.

And sleep, she does once again hold you, but without the exhaustion she doesn’t hold you so tightly. You dream for the first time in years, and with the warmth of the house you don’t look quite so small and weak.

Techno can’t help but smile when he realizes you’ve gone under. The arm that had propped you up now dangles over the armrest and your breathing is regular. If he would admit it, he would say there is a flicker of pride in him when he sees you comfortable enough to sleep like this in practically a strangers house. This was Phil’s usual schtick, not his. It was different, but not unwelcome. 

The house didn’t feel so empty with you there. Even sleeping you took up just the right amount of space and noise that it put him at ease. Like with Phil. Speaking of Phil, he should be visiting soon. The compass should lead him straight here and he’d be proud of him. He was making friends and not running them off his property.

Oh god, he was practically turning into Phil at this rate.

Without even realizing, Technoblade had picked you up and wrapped you up in his cape once more. The abandoned blankets sit by the fire, but the weight of his cloak would do so much more than either of the flimsy pieces of fabric. 

“Simp”

He scowls and ends up grabbing some tools to work his farm. The voices would be pretty neutral if he stuck to that for a while, and he could leave you to rest. Really the only logical option.

The farming is simple work. He doesn’t work at it like he used to, harvesting and replanting until his nails were caked in earth and his palms were red, raw, and bleeding. It’s now just a way to pass time. The darkness settles in and the snow had stopped falling for the moment and it’s so much easier to fade into the monotony. 

One row after the other, harvest, replant, harvest, replant. Check the bees, check the horses, back to the garden. It was boring, but he could mumble to the voices while he worked. They were rather entertained by Greek myths as of late. 

He’s two stanzas into the second part of the odyssey when you wake. All alone in the house, still dark outside you walk to the window. The snow had calmed and it was well lit enough to be safe. You pull the cape tighter around your shoulders and step out into the cold.

It’s a far enough walk that Technoblade doesn’t notice you as you start the approach. The snow muffled most any other sound to you as well, so you don’t hear the rattle of bones at your back. The only thing to cut the dead winter silence is your cry of pain as you fall to the ground.

It’s not two seconds later that Technoblade appears above you, snarling and frothing at the mouth. His eyes are blank and glassy as he spots the mob that had shot you. He bolts off once again and you don’t have the strength to look. 

The sounds are awful enough, and it does nothing to help the panic clawing at your chest. 

It hurts to breathe and you blink back tears. It could be seconds or years and you wouldn’t know as you wait for something to return to normal.

“KILLKILLKILLKILL”

“WE DEMAND BLOOD”

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD”

“E”

“E”

“BLOOD”

It's all that echoes in his skull even after the bones are crushed beneath his hands. Your scream had set them off and he couldn’t stop the bloodthirst that they craved. At least, he couldn’t.

Until he saw you slumped in the snow and shuddering under his cloak.

The voices fall silent and he blinks back into his own mind. Everything hurts but nothing more so than his pride. He had been so proud of keeping you safe and he had failed. He couldn’t be a worse friend. The degrading thoughts are his own as they echo off his skull. It doesn’t get better or worse as he stumbles up to you. 

He’s silent as he gathers you up in his arms, the only noise once again comes from you. Soft hiccups and sniffles as he holds you. His arms feel weak around you and you almost wish he would hold you tighter.

You hated this.

He hated this.

It doesn’t take long for you both to be back inside and for him to set you down at the table. He didn’t want to force you to be near him, assuming that he’d ruined the friendship by scaring you. 

On the other hand you want to curl up in his cape. It still smelled like him and you were so distraught thinking about how you most likely had upset him. He had gotten so loud, so upset when he’d seen you. You should’ve stayed inside, or even gone back to your house to work on building. Even if you’d been attacked he wouldn’t have heard and gotten so worked up.

It shocks both of you out of wallowing and haze when a knock comes on the door a few moments later. You curl further into the chair and take a sharp breath in when the wound sends a sharp pain through you. Techno scowls and moves to the door, silent on the outside, but the voices are yelling once again.

“GO AWAY”

“they’re upset, go comfort theeeemmm”

“Kill?”

“ITS PHIL”

They all chatter in sudden excitement when he opens the door to reveal the tired smile of one Philza. He opens his arms to Technoblade and huffs out a laugh when he leans down to hug him. 

You smile softly from your perch, happy to see he wasn’t all that mad if he was hugging a friend. You could always move again if he was just mad at you. It’s only when you shift and wince again that they both turn to face you, Techno with a look of worry and the new man with one of confusion.

“Who’s this?” Phil looks to Techno with a raised eyebrow. He coughs and looks away a bit ashamed still.

“S’my neighbor. They got hurt while I was farmin’,” 

“Ah.” Phil shrugs and smiles at you, warmth and kindness radiating off of him. You shrug the cape off and reveal the arrow wound, not too deep, but the arrowhead was broken and a large chunk had stayed lodged into the wound.

They didn’t even have to move much fabric, as it had cut straight through, and the fabric that was near was stuck to the skin wet with blood. He doesn’t waste time and gets to work.

It doesn’t take long for you to whimper and close your eyes against the pain. You reach out to cling to something and don’t immediately realize when Technoblade covers your hand with his. It’s comforting and you cling tighter to it.

You both lock eyes and smile, an aching feeling in both of your eyes.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene-“

“Sorry for upsetting you-“

You both speak at the same time and end up laughing. Yours a bit weaker than his, but it’s perfect. You were both idiots, but that was the joy of it.

You were perfectly idiotic neighbors, and you both cared a bit too much.

Chapter Text

It ended up a simple fix for Phil. Not a quick one, but simple enough that you were treated and bandaged by the time the sun was high in the sky. While you hadn't cling to Technoblade for the entire night, you didn't venture far from his side. 

You probably looked like a lost duckling to Phil. He doesn't mention it though, mostly talking to Technoblade about how the farm is going. And the retirement. Must be why he's so far out here. Not that you could blame anyone for doing exactly what you had. 

Running was the best option sometimes, but some people must handle it better. Just looking at how strong the connection was between Phil and Technoblade was enough to prove attachments weren't bad, and maybe you should accept one or two.

Currently you sit across from Phil, a warm cup of tea in your hands once more and a smile on both of your faces. For someone so new and sudden, you like Phil decently. It helped that he'd bandaged you up of course. No one could deny that, but he was immediately kind in a way you had only seen from Technoblade. 

“So new neighbor huh? What made you choose all the way out here?” Phil looks up from his cup to ask.

“It's quiet. Or it was, but I guess a neighbor would be good for me. Kinda fell out of socializing recently.” Recently, years ago, not much a difference. He shrugs and lets the silence fall again. 

His silence was different from Techno’s. It was solid and could get too heavy after a while, where Techno’s was light and comfortable, not expecting anything. It might just be the difference in personality or just how you met them. No matter, Technoblade was coming back around with more tea.

“Well I should be off then… I've got to put up those support beams today so I have something to work with.” You stand and move to grab what little you'd brought in the night before.

“You're still hurt-” Phil tries to persuade you but you just shrug and shake your head.

“I need a house sooner than later.” He just chuckles and shakes his head. Technoblade watches from the wall and shrugs.

“Don't get hurt again.” Is all he says and tosses a burlap bag that you catch out of the air. Peaking into it, it's full of food and another blanket. It's a sweet gesture and you want to express gratitude.

How though, is the question. You shift your weight for a few moments while thinking. Thankfully you don't actually have to make the decision, as suddenly he knocks his shoulder into yours. You accept this as goodbye and wave as you bound off to the stone floor base of your future home.

As soon as you've left the voices clamber up for attention once more. They'd been a quiet buzz since the incident, only peaking when Phil arrived, but with the distraction of you gone they rush forward and scream for attention.

“Phillll, They sat in your chair”

“Bruh”

“Philza pog”

“Why did he give them a gift?”

“SHOULDER BUMP AAAAAAAA”

He chuckles at the voices panic and Phil joins with his own laugh. He was happy to see Techno happier. He'd been so bored since ‘retiring’ and this was not how he'd expected him to cope. He'd expected another giant farm, or even insane amounts of materials from grinding. Not a new neighbor.

Techno didn't expect one either. He never wanted one. More people meant possible government and more people to betray him, but something about you kept him from driving you off. It was probably just how much you reminded him of what it was like to be alone. Before he had Phil. 

No one deserved that.

You were so small and used to being alone. Used to moving if how quick you were to pop up from an injury and how fast you build. It just made him want to help you. 

Shit. Acting like Phil again. He didn't trust you yet, why was he so fine with you in his space. In his house? Phil rubbing off on him, retirement getting to his head, making him soft. Ridiculous.

He's about to stomp over and get lost in a book to ignore Phil and his questions and stares when he catches a glimpse of movement out the window. It's you. Pulling up a support beam and wearing your blanket like a cape. No one would fault him for being the tiniest bit weak in his retirement, right?

“I think they'd be a good friend for you Tech.” He almost mistakes Phil's warm voice for chat, but the smile in it compared to the monotonous monologue makes it obviously him.

“They're just a neighbor.” It's blunt and gruff, but that's normal. What's not normal is his crossed arms and still legs. He's focused too hard on being normal that he doesn't carry any of his usual energy.

“Sure, whatever you say mate.” The smile betrays any comfort in the statement, but Technoblade elects to ignore it in favor of watching you out the window over the top of his book.

It's long and boring work, getting posts set and ready to support walls. You find yourself lost in the work even then. It's easy enough with the weight of fabric on your shoulders and the tight bandages, the comforting feeling keeps you focused on the work instead of other distractions. Like the sun moving across the sky, the wind through the trees making a noise, even the house with the implication of friends and attachments inside. 

Oh how nice it was to have those things so close. Those embers in your chest burn and spark with the idea. It's such a lovely thought, to have people to rely on. People you could try to provide for, and people who would willingly help and protect you. 

You couldn't think of a better place to settle. You were so lucky to have come this way and not ended up alone again. No matter how many times the back of your brain tries to tell you conflict is inevitable with people, you wouldn't trade this. It just feels so right. 

It's like it clicked into place. 

Just like the last support beam, just as the sun starts to set once more. You squint into the dusky light and smile. No clouds. No snow tonight, meaning you could spend your first night in the house. It doesn't take long for you to start up a roaring fire and curl up against a pillar. 

The blankets on your shoulders seemed to suddenly lack substance and weight as you stare into the flames. It wasn't that it had gotten that much colder so suddenly, but the moment just reminds you of the night before with Technoblade. 

You shrug off the feeling and tuck into the bag he'd given you. The potatoes get thrown onto the coals to bake while you pull pieces of bread off and toss them into your mouth. How was his food so much better than yours? It was so ridiculous you can't help the laugh that escapes. 

The sound curls into the air along with the smoke and scent of food. The stars blink into sight and the wind blows pine needles to the ground without issue. The perfect night to fall asleep under the open sky…

But you can't.

Your eyes aren't heavy with sleep, and the numb ache in your side, though dulled and not bad, keeps you from that hazy space you oh so love. It fills you with a familiar dread. Memories of weeks spent lying in bed unable to sleep and just staring at the ceiling. Falling over in the woods after a solid 36 hours of cutting down trees and foraging. You can't help but lean into it.

Sometimes a painful familiar can ground you in the midst of the blissful unknown. 

You let it sink into you, and let your hand fall in and grasp at the cold snow. Things were changing, but others were constant. Consistency is the enemy of new joys, but the guardian of the safety you crave. 

What do you choose?

Chapter Text

Techno had spent the night like that. Phil just rambling on about L'manburg by his side while he stared out the window and badly pretending to read from a book that had slipped from his hands hours ago. Eventually Phil had fallen asleep, but Techno couldn't seem to find it in him. Not like he needed it half as often as most. He ran like a machine.

It's all he can do to open the window to the cold night air when your fire dims. It never lasts long, he assumes you add more logs to it everytime. The echo of your laughter reaches him once and he blames the snow on how pink his ears go. He also blames his sleepy grin on the same cold snow. 

“Boredddd”

“E”

“E”

“Can you go kill something?”

“Technosimp”

“!”

“Simpsimpsimpsimp-

He stands suddenly. Of course they got bored. The voices constantly complained, but he'd hoped it would last a bit longer. The strange echoes of friendship he had with you were growing louder and he found it welcome, rather than annoying. 

Phil seemed to like and trust you, and that was as good an endorsement as anything. He trusted Phil more than his own gut most of the time. It honestly made perfect sense that he would latch onto you. Phil had mentioned that you shivered just like he used to when he was still getting used to the overworld.

He used to shiver constantly, tusks even chattering in the strange new world. It was months into his internship with Phil when the heavy fabric had been tossed over him. His first cloak. 

It was ugly and haphazard in stitches and cuts. It was perfect. It had kept the chill from his bones and made it so much easier to focus and learn from Phil. 

He absentmindedly rubs at the fabric covering his shoulders. You had looked so small in it, but it suited you more than the blanket cape, no matter how interesting it was to watch you work in it. 

Since the voices wouldn't quiet down, he might as well work on a new project. Simple enough, he had the wool to work with, and his needles had been itching for their turn to be used once more. The biggest issue would be to decide the color.

He had plenty of blue fabric left over, but that might be too much. And it was his and Phil's color, Antarctic empire and all that. No matter how nice it would be to have you both in the same color, he wouldn't shove it in your face so blatantly.

Red could work, he should have some from his own cape still tucked away somewhere. It had suited you well, and the fabric would definitely be heavy enough, but there was always the fact that it might put a target on your back. Looking like him at a glance would put you in far too much danger.

Green? No. Too much like Dream. 

Purple? He didn't have the right dyes.

Orange? The voices didn't like that, said it looked like a traffic cone.

He's running out of options. It's only when a warm buttery swatch catches his eye. A dull but creamy yellowy gold fabric. When he pulls it out it's a decent weight, and the drape over his arms is just about perfect. If he didn't know better he'd blame fate. 

It's with the smallest of smiles that he settles down and starts work on cutting, sewing, and hemming a new gift. The occasional grunt escapes and echoes in the quiet house when he pricks his finger or breaks a thread, but even chat is satiated by the repetition.

You had grown just as restless as the voices as the moon crawls higher and higher. The food had been a good distraction, but it went much too quickly. It left your mouth dry and thoughts echoing and bouncing like light off fresh snow. Technoblade had been so kind and all you had done in truth was give him what little food you had, spend that day in the sun, and cause a scene. 

In all honesty you owed him. Of course you guessed he wouldn't accept it as a thank you, kept blaming all his kindness on neighborly duties but you ached to do something in return. He seemed to like gifts so…

He didn't need food.. you were no good with making tools… a book!

You didn't have one of those either…

You fall back against the stone and let out a long sigh, frosty breath curling up like a dragon's flame licking at the air. You never thought that leaving attachments behind meant such a lack of giftable items. Someone should have warned you… not that there was anyone before this. 

Your brain goes blank on new ideas. You had nothing! You knew nothing about him and- and you felt awful about it… not wanting to give up so easily you pick up a lantern and tie the blanket around your shoulders once more. The woods had to have something right?

The woods aren't thick at first, but soon enough the trees grow close together and the snow drifts reach your knees. So there's nothing to forage. Great. You just about slump to the ground to give into the cold, but a branch backlit by the moon catches your eye. 

Old skills in flower crown making and old scars from climbing trees flash in the back of your head. If memory serves correct branches could be woven with just a little extra effort.

He didn't need a crown, of course not, but a wreath for his door? It might be silly but it was worth a shot. You gather branches up in your arms and when you're satisfied you head back to camp. If you'd had the materials you would add windchimes and bells and ribbons, but for know you settle with simplicity. 

The needles shed over the floor and some branches get fed to the fire as time trucks on without your permission. You end up sticky from sap and with a few new splinters and bark burns on your palms but you have a solid wreath. 

You'd even managed to pull a few blank pages from an old journal in your pack and scrawl across them in charcoal letters. Simple phrases of course, ‘thank you’ 'The potatoes were amazing’ ‘don't be afraid to visit’ stuff along those lines before you crumple the paper and tuck it into the branches. It was more symbolic than for him to ever see, but it was what you wanted to do. 

Two neighbors with gifts made by hand. Opposite sides of a snowy field and thoughts of the other as they put effort into the craft. A beautiful friendship blooming under the soft moonlight. It's sweet silvery glow seems not so weak tonight and the few clouds that hang low with the reminder of snow tomorrow don't dare block the rays. 

It's so sweet, almost too much so. Soon enough Phil will return to his home in L'manburg and the two will be alone to learn and grow together. Already steady and solid roots perfect for new ones to wrap around and make their way into a life that never meant to make more space. How fitting it was that the moon starts to wax and grow brighter with the promise of their bond.

At least, that's what one would think.

Little did you know of the storm brewing. You had avoided society for so long that you knew nothing of L'manburg’s new president, nor it's plans for rebirth. Techno too had left it behind for this simple life and so had yet to learn of the Butcher and his army…

Oh well, you both would learn soon enough. For now you can enjoy friendship, and the simple joys. 

Chapter Text

You are there when Phil starts packing to leave, having spent more and more leisure time at Techno’s house than your own. It wasn't that big of a deal though, you had just decided that warmth was more beneficial than laying in the snow and waiting for sleep to claim you. It had stayed away anyhow, refusing to gift you anything more than fatigue.

The hours spent awake didn't go to waste though. They were spent putting up the walls and roof of your abode. If not that then they were spent by the fireplace either listening to Phil tell stories, Techno ranting about his farming efforts, or sharing a few tales yourself. 

The three of you had shared plenty of laughter and new jokes. You fit right in, so easily that it could be said that you were a missing piece. Of course it wasn't true. Neither of them had ever felt like there was something missing. 

Phil and techno had always been an inseparable duo, working together like a well oiled machine and not an issue between them. No one could say that they were missing anything or anyone. But sometimes things shift. 

They don't break or find that they are suddenly incapable without a new piece. It doesn't even have to be compared to a new piece, just a support to make some things easier. Oil in the gears, a fresh coat of paint, a new memory storage. That was a good analogy for you.

Nothing earth shattering or perfect, just new and helpful. You couldn't ask for anything more, and you would never want to. For now though you are much too busy to think on titles and dynamics. 

You had found a patch of berries and packed them up for Phil to take, at least enough for the trek. You had however kept enough to start your own farm. Good crop for the cold and perfect for you, your sweet tooth had already made itself known to Phil and Techno. However you were much more than willing to share what you had, no asking necessary.

“You know you don't have to put up such a fuss, I'm just off to L'manburg.” Phil chuckles as he affixes his bags and belts.

“Back to the government” Techno says as he double checks the packing list

“And to where all the chaos is, outside of us of course” you smile and Phil just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. You two were much too similar for his sanity.

“Fine fine, I'll be safe, but you two have to try to do the same.”

“Safety is my middle name Phil.” You rest a hand over your heart but you can't stop the gleeful smile.

“Yeah right. I'm off then. Stay safe mate.” And he's gone. It's so perfectly mundane but it feels like it should've had something more to it. Too late now. 

Now it was just you and Techno. You don't know when you'd dropped the ‘blade’ but he didn't seem to mind and it suited him. But it just being you and Techno it was the perfect time to give him the gift you'd been working on. It had been hard to keep it out of the damp snow but it had been worth it. You thought it was beautiful.

You duck out with the excuse of grabbing some preserves so you could have something sweet after lunch. Techno is honestly glad you do, because his gift was also just waiting to be given.

The voices were getting impatient. As soon as he'd finished it to be honest. They didn't like to wait for gratification so he'd had to distract them with Phil, he was the easiest thing to entertain them with. With nothing left to distract them, when he pulls out the cape the voices go wild.

“Is it Christmas?”

“Pretty pog!”

“Gift time? Finally?”

“Siiiimp”

“How are feelin bout technosimp chat?”

He grunts in response as he neatly folds it and sets it on the table. All that was left was to wait for you to come back. He could try to distract chat again, maybe bake a stack of potatoes? 

The immediate response of chat is a resounding no. He just groans and sits down with a thunk. This was supposed to be relaxing! Why did chat have to be such a hassle.

A knock at the door

“Simp timeee”

“I hope they like it”

“Open the door!”

Maybe not that bad. He chuckles to himself and calls out for you to just let yourself in. It would be faster than him trundling over and letting you squeeze past.

“I can't reach the handle..” How much did you grab? Well, a large wreath makes it kind of hard to maneuver. So Techno opens the door to be greeted with a face full of pine. You peek over the top and grin.

“Surprise… I made you a gift.” You suddenly seem shy. Quiet like how you had been when you'd met. He didn't realize how comfortable you'd gotten. It wasn't a bad thing by any means, but it was quite the shock.

He looks over the wreath, green needles and creme pages twisted into the weave. It was handmade and he can feel something clench in his chest.

“It's okay…” fuck him and not being able to express completely. He's worried for a second you'll be upset with his reaction but you just brighten.

“I'm glad you like it! It's for your front door, if you could help me put it up? It's a little heavy-” you start rambling and his shoulders relax.

The two of you work together to get it secure to the door and in the end, it ends up hung up on the fence instead. The door was just a bit too heavy for you with the wreath. 

After you both move to sink into chairs by the fire, techno after laying his cape to the side and grabbing fresh bread for you both, you after adjusting your blanket cape and pulling a jar of preserves out. You'd grabbed them anyway, despite it being a lie to go grab the gift.

You notice the lump on his lap that he doesn't address, instead handing you bread with a grunt. You decide to shrug it off, probably just a new project for him to work on. He always had something like that.

You were alike in that way, and in a few others. The isolation, the love of potatoes, so easily cold.. speaking of which you shiver despite the warm fire and pull your makeshift cloak tighter. Techno looks up from his food and tilts his head. 

“Your cape is kinda ratty..” your head twists to look at him, just the slightest bit confused.

“I mean, yeah. It's just blankets but it's better than nothin-” you get cut off by the bundle of fabric hitting your shoulder. You are about to toss it back and tell him to suck it when he speaks up again.

“I had this spare one, it's better than the blankets and half as bulky.” He won't look at you but you smile and unroll the cloak. 

Your heart wells up with a soft joy as you shed and toss aside the blankets. You stand and wrap the cloak around your shoulders, fixing the clasp and doing a spin. Your smile reaches all the way to your eyes and your face flushes with happiness. It was perfect.

Tears that you don't notice slip down and you wrap your arms around your middle in a hug. It's too much, you hadn't seen this much kindness in years and he was just handing it to you like it was free. It almost hurts, but you love how it aches.

He watches you light up and hides his smile behind a hand. Even the voices were silent again. Who wouldn't be silent. The way you laughed and spun around? It had him entranced. It was probably just the cloak. His old piglin habits peeking out. It's one hundred percent the reason behind the beating of his heart and the flush in his cheeks. Just adrenaline and nostalgia.

“Gold suits you better than I thought.” His voice comes out low and quiet, almost a grunt. You stop your ogling and smile at him, brighter than the sun.

“Thank you. I love it. I'm never taking it off. It's perfect.” 

“I'm- I'm glad you like it. It's not that it was a big deal or anything though. Just a favor.” You roll your eyes and laugh.

“Sure Techno. Just a favor.” 

It's not even the end of the day and you're certain nothing could top this. This was the best thing you could've ever experienced, and you were pretty set on sticking around.

You had planted your roots, tangled and weak from such a long time without stable ground, now wrapped and entwined with another set. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to and you most definitely didn't. 

This friendship was worth so much in your eyes. 

Maybe more than your old way of life. 

Definitely worth more.

Chapter Text

A month had passed, your house now fully built, heated, and stocked, but you still spent so much time in the armchair across from Technoblade. And not even only that, you'd helped with his farm on your off days from the house and fussed around in his basement organizing chests so you knew where to find things if he asked.

He also spent time in your house. Mostly just with the excuse of checking the stability or fixing something for you. More often than not it was obvious he just wanted to check on you, but you don't mind. You'd both bonded over a strange fear of loss, not that Techno had actually admitted it, but the way he acted afterwards confirmed your suspicions. 

You didn't just hang out around the houses either. Neither of you could handle being sedentary for so long and it worked well for your friendship. You would go on long trips to gather supplies or just find new places to explore whenever you two decided on a change of scenery. 

Techno definitely has an appreciation for how easy it is to spot you now. The gold stands out against the snow and even the woods when you join him on reconnaissance. You never called it that, but it's what it was. Even in retirement he couldn't get over his old habit. 

Even now he can see you from the tree he's climbed to get a good view. It shouldn't give him this much comfort, honestly you being so obvious should make him worried. It made you obvious prey. Still, he can't force any other emotions than pride and comfort. You'd joined the likes of Phil in his mind. 

“Zombie villager hunting?”

“I think totems”

“At least it's not nether grinding”

“I'm booooored-

“Tech? You still up there? I can't see as well as you remember?” The teasing in your tone is just the same as Phil's when he used the old excuse during grinding trips. It only served to solidify you further on his trusted people list.

“Yup.” He doesn't have to say much before you are back looking for things to forage on the ground. It was still surprising how easily you quieted chat. They must like you.

You just smile and skip along. You loved days like this. Just grinding and tossing jokes back and forth. It was nice to feel wanted, at least for the company. You had formed somewhat of a dislike for the loneliness you used to be accustomed to. Not that you minded quiet, it was just so much nicer with someone around. Techno was the only person you really trusted with that. 

In your eyes he was the peaceful giant with kind eyes and a laugh that was contagious. You found sleep easier on the nights it was too windy to make the trip back to your house. His cooking, however repetitive, was always better than yours. Every little thing about him was something you admired and felt safe around. How cliche to find that in the one person you had lived near in years, but however trite it's true. 

The days continue to pass and you find yourself at the end of another day of grinding. Bags heavy with supplies and feet trundling along in rhythm as you walk side by side back home. You appreciate how Techno slows his walk to stay near you and let out a soft chuckle at the thought. You must slow him down, not more than Phil and his cane, but he never seems to mind.

Techno on the other hand is at war with chat. They've never stopped with the ‘technosimp’ or fawning over every gesture he does for you. He keeps trying to get them to understand it like you do. It's just a friendship, just like with Phil. They never got this bad with him. Massive cringe that they wouldn't let it go. 

It's not like he was actually acting any different than normal. 

You look at him, pulling your hood down and ask what he wants for dinner and he doesn't fight the grunt and smile that pulls at his face the second you speak. 

Definitely this was normal.

The closer you two get home the darker it gets. The moon is barely a sliver in the sky and he's just about to turn and grab his lantern when you gasp.

“Look! The sky is so cool!” You light up and he looks to you before the sky. The light reflected in your eyes is bright and the smile you were tugs on his… his heart? Weird.

He looks up to the sky and it's true. The northern lights have started up and it's nice to watch. Last time he'd seen them was with Phil, on a night extremely similar to this. So why didn't it feel the same.

The only real difference was you. Why was that? It wasn't a bad difference, just strange. He couldn't put his finger on it until you tug at him to sit down in the snow with you and stare up at the sky. He can't find it in him to just watch the light shift, his eyes stuck on your face.

Sure he didn't do this with Phil, but he enjoyed watching you point out your favorite parts. It was done with such joy that he laughs along with you. In this moment nothing exists but you and him in the snow. Even the wind is silent as he soaks in your face full of happiness. 

Ok. So maybe this was different. Just maybe..

“Technosoft?”

“Is he really just now figuring this out?”

“E”

“Techno has feelings arc”

Okay, chat was right for once. This was very different from his friendship with Phil, but it was still just a friendship, just- it was just softer and more protective. And maybe he wanted to hug you, and have you near him, cover you in gold and keep you safer than you'd ever been. 

It was like Phil and the baby zombies, but he wanted to protect you from everything that you feared. Keep the shadows away and maybe it would chase his own out as well.

He blinks and the lights are gone. You're standing and brushing snow from your shoulders. He follows suit, staunchly ignoring the heat in his cheek despite the chill. He couldn't tell you. He didn't want to ruin it, it would be worse to see you fall away from him than it would to have you close but not close enough.

You grab hold of his cloak and pull him along to get back. You'd remembered a prize from your trip today and wanted to show it off. A disc labeled ‘mall’. It wasn't anything special like the discs that Phil said started a war, but it would be nice to listen to. 

You both suck inside and you giddily move to the jukebox to fiddle with the settings and get everything set. Techno watches with amusement in his eyes when you finally get it set up with a happy laugh in success. The music starts up soft and slow and you clap excitedly.

It takes a second but he works up the courage to stand next to you as you watch the disc spin.

“Do you- would- er….” He coughs and you laugh at his stumbling, “dance with me?”

“There's not a lot of room in here,” you say soft, not teasing with a warm grin on your face.

“We could go outside.” He was committed now, you either needed to say no or this dance was happening. You laugh and nod, taking his hand and pulling him out the door. You leave it open for the music to float through and end up under the stars.

Soft snow starts to drift down over the two of you as you lock hands and start to sway softly to the music. The way you lean into Techno has both of you warm for different reasons. Him for the feelings welling up in his chest, and you for the soft ache of affection you had craved for so long. 

Neither of you pull apart even as the music stops, instead Techno continues to lead you into a slow waltz, spinning the pair of you around with a grace no one expects from someone his size. You love every moment of it and laugh aloud, making techno smile and just dance along to whatever music is spinning in his head.

Technoblade decides in that moment that he is so grateful his instincts had him help you that night in the cold. If he hadn't this wouldn't be happening, and he would be going stir crazy in his lonely cottage.

You decide that you would do anything for him. He was your best friend and he filled your heart, your thoughts, and your house with joy. You would trust him with your life and safety and consider yourself the luckier of the two, if you hadn't been found by him who knows where you'd be.

The perfect night is full of laughter and dancing to imaginary music as love, platonic and romantic, fill the air. But across the land, in a country so full of strife and worry, Phil stands to be put under house arrest. An army ready’s its weapons. A ghost wanders in the snow. A butcher sharpens his blade and readies the execution stand.

Peace cannot last. The only language that will be heard echoing across the lands is one of blood and rage. Violence is on its way to your safe little house. No. Home. Though it may not be for much longer.

However, no one will take away this night. It was yours to hold tight to.

Chapter Text

Days later after the dance Techno still has done nothing in response to his realization and nothing has changed. It's what he wanted. He can let chat gush and fawn while he just continues to show kindness to you. As long as you don't know nothing will happen, and that's just fine with him.

You flit about his cottage, your music disc on loop as you go back and forth working on your potion skills. You had learned quite a bit about them from Tech and it was a fun task to run around doing. He never minded the extra potions in his chests and you had gathered most of the ingredients yourself.

You're just finishing a batch and piling it into his chest so they're easy access when you turn to him with a smile. It wasn't strange that you had, but it makes his mood falter. It usually meant you were leaving soon. You'd grab your cloak off the hook he'd installed by the door and go off into the snow back to your own house. Cause this wasn't your home as much as chat wanted you to call it that. 

You didn't even call your own house a home, and techno knew it was because of all your moving, but it still felt like you would drift away in the wind if it blew hard enough. That's why he wouldn't ruin this.

He barely registers your words as you gather a few things into your bag and move to grab your cloak. You had moved so quickly that even chat was behind.

“Extra potions means less work”

“Are you going to fight someone soon?”

“E”

“They smiled :-) -HOLD UP”

“Leaving? But it's dangerous!”

“Not the cape-

You press your hand to the door, about to leave when you remember techno hadn't responded. He usually at least grunted in response, but he was silent. You turn with a lazy smile and butt your head against his shoulder. Yet another habit you'd picked up from him. 

He can't help but feel a sweet warmth at the gesture and he leans down to butt his forehead against yours in a silent goodbye. Your smile grows and you skip out the door.

Your hands brush against the wreath and your own chest fills with pride that it had lasted this long. The papers had been slightly damaged with the snow, but the branches still stayed tightly woven together. A perfect example of your stubbornness.

The trek over is quicker every time, but you still can't help but look back over to his home when you make it to your own door. It was so much emptier over here, but at least you could watch him move behind the windows from your own fireplace seat. 

You make half decent tea and curl up with your cloak wrapped so tightly around you, you can bury your face in it as you wait for the fire to warm the house. You hadn't really wanted to leave his house, but you had to sleep sometime. You could feel the exhaustion steeping in your bones and sleep pulled you into her grasp.

It's a slow fade, but you are very lucky to be pulled under when you are. If you hadn't fallen into sleep’s embrace you have noticed the sudden frantic movements in Techno’s windows. You would have seen a ghost floating around with a strange blue sheep. 

Instead you sleep through the oncoming storm, the wind howling loud enough to cover any noise of approach and any chaos that may unfold. Sleep holds you under and protects you from what you've been running from for so long.

Technoblade does not just prep to fight for himself, or to protect his home, he prepares to hide you as well. A splash potion of invisibility waited in easy grasp if you showed up during the fight. He wasn't willing to let anyone know about you who might do you harm. The government was a big part of that.

“Wil- ghostbur, I need you to do something for me.” He doesn't look up from his prep and just hopes Wil is paying enough attention.

“Mhm? Whatever I can help with!” The smile is too cheery for the situation but he can't blame the ghost. 

“You need to get out of here, but if something happens I need you to come back and tell my neighbor that I'll be gone for a while.” Chat hates what he's saying, yelling at him for blood and his old saying that he can never die, but he needs to prepare for the worst.

“Mm? Neighbor?” The ghost sticks his head out the window and points directly at the other house, “that one?” 

“Shut up- just- just go. You don't need to be caught up in this Wilbur.” He was so lucky you'd left before the message from Phil came through. He doesn't know what he would've done.

Now Quackity had planned this for weeks. The compass in hand and his soldiers- friends behind him. The cottage comes into view from behind the trees and his wicked grin only grows. He would stop at nothing to protect L'manburg. The pig had nothing on him, a four v one would take him out easy. 

When ghostbur tries to distract them, very poorly may he add, his eyes catch on a smaller building. A fire was going, but it wasn't where the compass was pointing. If he was a simpler man, like Tubbo, he'd think it a storage shed, but no. He files it away for future use. Anything the pig had could come in handy when killing Dream.

The fight is brutal and bloody. Loud as anything as all involved scream and jeer at each other. Blood hits the snow and Technoblade stands victorious for a single moment before Quackity shouts once again. 

He's mounted techno’s horse and techno freezes. If he continued to fight the horse would be hurt, but also, Q wouldn't stop until he found something that forced him to submit. And that things might just be you. Since you hadn't come out of your house yet he just had to hope you were sleeping. 

He drops his weapons and armor, hiding the totem and hanging his head. He throws out a few jokes, but he knows that this isn't a good situation. But Technoblade never dies, and he had something to live and get back for.

----

You wake up with a pounding headache, your deep sleep interrupted far too soon for your own good. You look up to see techno's house outside the window but something was wrong. It was different.

The door was ajar and your wreath was on the ground. You bolt to the window to look for some sign of disturbance. The sight of blood on the snow makes a scream catch in your throat. The urge to bolt fills you up but the weight of golden fabric on your shoulders stops you.

Techno… he was in trouble. Wasn't he? You clamber outside into the snow to see so many footprints that you can't keep track. A fight, and it wasn't with a mob. You feel tears slip out over your cheeks as you keep walking towards the door. You don't have the strength to get the unwieldy wreath back up, but it hurts to see it there. 

His horse is gone. He's gone. Why did that hurt so much? Why did you not want to leave and run away at the same time? It hurt worse than anything else. 

He had lied. Presented himself as peaceful, given you every joy you could ask for only to bring the chaos you so feared right to your doorstep. Why did he have to do that to you, you'd been nothing but kind, and he-

He betrayed you.

Hours pass as you stand in the snow begging it to bury you so you didn't have to leave. You couldn't stay here anymore, even if he never came back, there was danger closer than it had ever been and you didn't even know what it looked like. You couldn't defend yourself, so you just want to sink back into the sleep that slipped from your mind. Maybe this time when you woke up… maybe you wouldn't wake up at all, let the cold sink into your bones like it had that night he found you.

Oh. That's why it hurt so much. That's why you couldn't leave. You love him.

Loved him.

Snow crunches underfoot and the steps gain speed sometime later. You hear someone dismount a horse but you can't find it in you to turn around. 

“You're okay!” You hear his voice and it echoes against the snow. 

“Why…” he stops and you turn around slowly, bag in hand. He turns and realizes your house has gone dark. No…

“ Bloodbloodblood”

“They can't leave if you stop them”

“Technoblade never dies!”

“Stop them!”

“...You're leaving… aren't you.” It's not a question, and it hasn't been since he saw your face. You looked so hurt.

“You lied to me and put me in danger. I can't stay.” You meet his eyes and sniffle. It was so cold the tears burned as they slipped down your cheeks. 

His heart breaks, but his mask doesn't slip, he can't let it. It'll only make it harder on you. So he does what he can and lets his shoulders drop. He won't look at you as you approach and reach up on your toes to bump your head against his.

“Please… please be safe.” Is all he can say as you begin to walk away.

“...same to you, neighbor.” You don't even say his name.

He can only watch you walk away. The golden yellow fading into the dark as you duck into the forest. He slumps forward and lets himself grieve until he spots the basement door hanging wide open and a blonde head of hair moving in a blur.

Of course he wasn't allowed to be alone. Just his luck.

----

The woods were dark and you want to let it consume you. Even the snow doesn't last long and you have to pull the hood down to breath through the strange change in temperature. You wanted to just curl up in a tree and wait out the hurt.

Of course you can't allow yourself that, you have to find a new home soon. A new house, that's what you meant. That wasn't your home. 

You're lost in thought when you hear a branch crunch under the foot of someone new. You jump and move to hide behind a tree. It doesn't do a great job at hiding you however.

Quackity knows what a cloak made by Technoblade looks like. The red one that fills his mind from the fight just hours earlier, the blue one that should've stayed trapped in that house. This strange gold though was new. He smiles though, when he remembers that tiny house.

“Hello?” He calls out, voice coated in sugar. All the better to lure you in. You look around the trunk to see a strange man with a fresh scar across his face. He was no more intimidating than Techno, but you shudder in panic. You couldn't handle the panic that came with people anymore.

“You look lost. It's a bit too warm out for a cape like that, but I like your style.” The laughter that echoes is contagious and you can't help but smile. 

You'd trusted once, and even if that had hurt you, what could it hurt if you tried again. After all, it had lasted a few months before it had failed…

Chapter Text

You step out from behind the tree, arms still tucked close to you and mouth shut tight but you watch him with as neutral an expression as possible. You still ached for the affection you had no chance of gaining, and as desperate as you are, you stick your hand out to shake his.

“Pleasure to meet you, I'm Quackity, but you can call me Q” he winks and you roll your eyes when he shakes your hand.

He was playful despite the obvious battles he's been through and it strikes a chord of empathy in you. You want that, the laughter and brightness n in his eyes. It couldn't hurt to play along.

“Alright Q, what has you out here? It's pretty far from any people I've seen.” 

“I could ask you the same, but I'll be polite and answer first.” You chuckle and your shoulders relax, “L'manburg isn't too far from here and I live there. Kinda important too.” He preens at that and you falter.

That was the country torn up with war… How was he so happy having lived there? Didn't he have any self preservation? Obviously not judging by the scar. Maybe- maybe you could try it as well.

“Mm, I've heard of L'manburg, but not much. Kind of an isolationist up until recently to be honest.” You shrug and gesture back towards the snowy home- house you left, “I had a neighbor but we had a spat and I left. What's the use of living near people if you can't trust them.” No specifics, a safe bet.

He didn't need any specifics to confirm his thoughts and his smile grows. He could definitely use this to his benefit. You and the pig on the outs? Perfect time for him to swoop in and be a hero.

“Ah, well then you must be getting warm. Let me hold your cloak, I'm a big strong guy- not that you're not strong, it's just you look tired-” you laugh and stop him.

You reach up and your hand hesitates at the clasp. You hadn't taken it off in days and the weight was a comfort, but still. It was much warmer, and techno had hurt you. Why did it still feel wrong to do?

You unhook it and pull it gently off. You shiver ever so slightly but as soon as you pass it to Q you feel lighter. Somewhat. You don't have the physical weight anymore but seeing it so far away tugs at your heart. It snaps suddenly when Q laughs again. He notices your face and tries to get you to smile.

“Don't worry, I'll be careful. Just don't push me over, I may be a doormat, but I don't like it.” You chuckle lightly along with him.

You fall into step with him, heading further away from old attachments and towards the unknown. Maybe this one would be safer.

“You can stay with me for a bit, until we can build you a house in new L'manburg , everyone has a certain style so you'll fit in nicely I think.” You let him ramble as the wind starts up. It's not bitter like in the snow, but it's enough for you to feel the chill without the protection you'd gotten so used to.

----

Technoblade grumbles under his breath as Tommy bounces off the walls. They'd already had the roundabout conversation about why he was there and what he was doing under the house. It gave him a massive headache. 

It didn't help that chat hadn't been silent since you'd left. It started with the panicked begging him to chase, to keep, to never let go, to let you know he loved you, but it faded to its normal rumble of prodding and asking where you were, where Phil was, was he going to kill Quackity again, he should kick out Tommy. It was annoying and you weren't even there to calm them.

His hand moves to rest where you had last brushed his forehead. It didn't help the ache in his gut, but he can't let the kid know he was weak at all right now. Not that he didn't notice the difference almost immediately.

“What's up? You seem sucky and stupid, who spit in your eggs?” The voice grates at him more than the questions but he just grunts in response. Talking about you wouldn't help in the slightest, but that didn't mean he wasn't tempted to answer the pestering child. 

“Technoblaaaade, you should help me fight Dream instead of moping around like someone died. Oh! Did someone die? Is that it?” The kid pulls on his cape and he sighs. 

“No. No one died, they just- they left. It was a good decision.” He hates to admit it, but you were right.

He had brought everything you told him you hated right outside your door and done nothing to warm you. In the months you'd known each other he'd never brought up his past with L'manburg. He didn't want you to fear him. Too late now. You had every right to hate him.

It made it worse that he knew you didn't. If you did you wouldn't have said goodbye the way you had. You wouldn't have looked so torn. You would've left before he made it back and left him to wonder if you were even alive, if the butchers had come back and killed you before he could protect you. You didn't hate him and that made it worse. 

You felt so hurt that you had to leave even if you didn't hate him. He'd made it impossible for you to stay.

“-who the fuck even leaves a bomb ass situation like this? Gapples just sat around for snacks and no rent!” Tommy had been ranting while he was lost in thought. Of course- wait, he stole gapples.

“Spit that out! It's not a snack child.” He grunts and moves to grab the bag of golden apples.

“No! Not until you tell me who left and why they did.” He crosses his arms and smirks, thinking he won.

“Dont tell him”

“I miss them,”

“Tell him! He can help get them back!”

“Phil come get your child”

“...” the silence hangs for a while, the kid definitely had won, but he didn't want to start talking cause he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop. He settles to just give the basics, no feelings attached.

“My neighbor-”

“YOU HAVE A NEIGHBOR?”

“..not anymore”

“Oh…”

“They have a few issues with conflict and when the government decided me being retired was a threat it forced them to leave. That's all.”

Silence for a second and then Tommy starts eating another apple.

“Hey!” Techno grabs for the bag but Tommy dodges out of the way with a grin.

“Oops, sorry. I was just distracted. Why are you so upset then? Did the mighty Technoblade get attached-”

“No.” He stops the kid in his tracks. No way was he getting called out for his feelings by a child of all people. He expected Phil to, but not the kid.

He didn't need to be teased about something that wasn't going to happen. It would hurt too much. So he walks away from Tommy, leaving him with the back of apples. It wasn't worth fighting the kid, especially when they were both not in the right headspace. 

He could only hope that Dream didn't try to sink his claws into you like he had Tommy.

Too bad for him that Q had already made a claim.

The cloak had never been returned to you, having passed out into a heavy sleep as soon as you'd been offered a bed. It was so easy to tuck it away and let you forget about it.

While he's walking away he sees the wreath still on the ground, snow caught in its branches and ruining the pages. His heart jumps into his throat as he picks it up, getting it back in place.

He would never get rid of it, especially now that you were gone and felt awful it had sat so long in the snow. One of the papers comes loose in his hand and he sighs. He's just about to tuck it back in place when he spots melted handwriting.

The charcoal had come off over time but he could make out a few words.

“Don't be afraid to visit”

“I hope we can be friends”

“Thank you for everything”

You'd written this just days after meeting him. So why did it sound like you were right next to him speaking the words as he reads them.

He's not crying. The blurring is just because he's not wearing glasses. The damp spots were snow. That was it.

He gently pulls each piece of torn paper from the wreath and tucks them into his breast pocket. These were for him, and he needed to keep them safe. How he had gone this long without knowing about the letters was a mystery, but this seemed the perfect time to find them. 

One gift continues to give, while the other is stolen away. How perfectly ironic.

Chapter Text

Settling down so quickly was strange. Quackity and the president had built you a house in under a day, carving into the steep walls of the remains of manburg and putting up the walls in an instant. You suppose multiple people working would make it much quicker, but after so long on your own it was amazing to watch unfold.

The house was tucked under most of the scaffolding and tiered patio spaces. It was strange, but it was cozy all the same. If it meant less people would bother you all the better. While you would try a new friendship with Q, no one else had approached or shown any selfless kindness like he had. 

If you'd remembered correctly, Phil said he lived here most days, so you might run into him. He would be able to tell you about tech- he could tell techno about you- you'd have a familiar face at the very least. Even if it wasn't so friendly anymore.

You hadn't expected leaving to ripple so far into your life. Phil was something you hadn't expected to lose in the swift betrayal, but you would never want to pull him away from Techno. He needed him more anyway. Maybe friends weren't the best of ideas right now, you could just suck out and no one would notice. You just had to grab-

Q knocks on the door and peaks in with a smile. He wields a basket of varied foods and a med kit under his arm as well. You can't help but smile at the gesture. 

“How's my favorite newest neighbor? The digs treating you well?” Without needing your welcome he brushes in and starts unloading on the table.

“I'm good, the house is nice. Different from my normal taste, but good enough for how long I plan to stay-”

“Speaking of tastes!” He cuts you off from explaining you mean to leave at some point and waves the basket of food under your nose. Your stomach growls in response and he laughs, “I didn't know what you liked so I brought a bunch of everything.” 

“Oh, well I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” You can't help but be caught up in his charisma and boisterous energy. 

“Perfect! Same here, good thing packed loads of sweets.” He passes you a few apples and sits across from you. 

The two of you watch each other back and forth as a small fire crackles. You hadn't gotten out of the habit of using a fireplace for light, and it had been incorporated into the build. It was sweet. The eyes on you, not so much, but you couldn't say much as you watched with the same curiosity.

“I know this might be a bit forward, but how did that scar heal so quickly?” Your voice comes out in a timid whisper. Thankfully he just laughs it off and shrugs.

“Dunno, I've just gotten good at patching myself up. There are some dangerous folks around. Not in L'manburg of course, but nearby.” You frown and pull back into your shell a bit. Seems you couldn't get away from it.

“I have a… distaste for conflict and chaos like that.” You mutter. He didn't need to know how much it rattled you just yet. Despite not being so forthcoming with information, he gives a caring smile and nods in understanding. 

He gestures to the med kit on the table with a wave of his hand. It's a confusing transition from your admittance, but you roll with it, raising a row in silence.

“I brought it just in case you'd had any run ins on the way before I picked you up. There are some terrifying people from the direction you came. Dream, Technoblade,” you perk up for a moment before your face falls. He must read it as a flinch because he is at your side with the med kit in just a few seconds.

“Is something wrong? Are you actually hurt? It was supposed to be a precaution but I can try to help-”

“I'm fine, no real injuries. Just some emotional scars.” You try to laugh it off. He doesn't let you and his frown has you silent pretty quick.

“Who? Cause I can get a protection detail lined up if it's someone nearby.” 

Why did it sound so genuine? He didn't owe you anything and was instantly ready for you to admit you needed protection. If you weren't so desperate already for the friendship you'd lost you might run from him.

It was scary almost.

“I'm fine Q… I just- I've heard about Dream before. He's a bit terrifying if you ask me.” Cover with a smile. Even if he'd hurt you, you wouldn't wish that on him. No way would you, with your hatred of conflict and fighting, set someone up for something like what Quackity is suggesting.

“Alright. As long as you're certain.” He doesn't sound as convinced as he'd hoped, but you both go back to the conversation before, trying to get back to the easy banter.

So you were lying. Technoblade was the reason you'd flinched, but it wasn't like he could call you on it. He'd save that card for another day. For now, you had a weakness. One he could very easily use, and with how much you'd reacted he assumed you were the weakness that Technoblade didn't want revealed. No matter. He still had what he wanted, and you seemed content. Content enough to be persuaded to stay for a while longer.

----

Tommy still hadn't left. In fact he'd made himself more at home and Technoblade had let him. What harm could he do, other than tear up his basement. And he kept him from drowning in his own loneliness. 

Big bonus right there.

But the noise he made all the time was scrapping at his sanity. It was too much. Didn't the kid like discs? Cmon Theseus had to be distracted by something. 

Technoblade moves to his jukebox with an old music disc only to find mall still in its place. He pauses and starts the music up with almost a reverence. Tommy probably starts bitching in the background, but he can't stop smiling. It was your music. He could practically hear you humming along to it and dancing across his floor. 

He should have joined you more often. He should've done a lot of things more often so he would have if he'd known you'd be gone so quick. 

Before he even realizes, the disc has faded and the silence echoes in his skull like a pounding headache. Without a moment to hesitate, he starts up the same disc before getting in with his work. 

At least this helped block out Tommy.

----

You hadn't slept again since your first night in L'manburg, your arrival, but you had to sink into it at some point. You hadn't even made it to bed before you'd collapsed in exhaustion. 

Sleep was not a kind woman that night. She let the cold creep into your bones like you were still standing in that snow drift waiting for Technoblade to appear. She doesn't let you sink into the deep death like sleep you loved, instead keeping right on the edge of wakefulness. It was agony and worse than the fatigue waking would cause. If only you could.

Instead you end up in a field of white. You can almost feel the snow as it lands on your bare shoulders, golden fabric torn into pieces at your feet. You feel tears start to fall and when you wipe at them your fingers come away frostbitten and covered in red. 

Oh. You were bleeding. How strange. 

You move to gather the fabric, but before you can you spot a hulking figure in red. It's Technoblade. You shout out to him, words dying on your tongue turning to ash when you meet his gaze. It's glassy like… like when he had to save you and got overwhelmed. There is no recognition in his eyes and you feel it before you see him move. 

Old wounds open and you blink to see yourself in his arms and bleeding heavily. You both cry, and you reach up to pull his head down and bump against yours. He doesn't react and static starts to pull at your vision.

A sudden drop in your stomach startles you to life. You were on the floor by the dying fire and the sun was coming up over the horizon. You can't help the sob that curls up your throat and shakes your whole body.

They don't stop and you let the fire burn out while you shake and shudder through the overwhelming emotions. 

Why did you leave? He didn't mean it, he would still recognize you and you wouldn't feel so alone. It was so stupid. 

Where was the cape? That would calm the sobs at least. The heavy weight and comforting memories attached to it would sooth your panic. Maybe it would even still smell like him. You move to look for it only for your front door to open without warning.

It doesn't take long for Q to be at your side and trying to quiet your sobs. Of course you couldn't leave, you would upset Q if you didn't at least tell him first. 

“What happened? Did someone come in here last night?” His voice is hushed and you shake your head.

“Bad dream, that's all” you sniffle and wipe away thankfully clear tears.

“Mind telling me what it was about? That might help.”

“Just about..” do you tell him? He looks so concerned and you can't help but want to tell him, “my old neighbor. About him- well I don't know really… all I really remember is that he hurt me. Physically instead of emotionally.” He nods, the care in his eyes seems real and so you let yourself be held by him. 

He rocks the two of you back and forth to stop your tears. He even hums softly under his breath and your breathing goes slowly back to normal.

“Can you tell me who, so I can get Tubbo to ban him from the country? We put our people first in L'manburg, all of them.” 

“It's-” you don't want him banned, he didn't deserve that. Instead you just fall silent and shake your head.

You hear him sigh and pull away. You look up to see him leaving you food again. He seemed so… disappointed? It was a strange change, but you don't know what else you could do at this moment.

“Just- I like violence even less than you. The man who gave me this scar, Technoblade, has me on edge and I just don't want you to end up in the same situation, if you can't tell me.” He looks over to catch your reaction.

Techno… he'd done that? But- 

Of course he had. He had betrayed you after all. He was a violent man made for violent ends. 

You crawl back over to your bed and let yourself go numb. You wouldn't betray him… but you can't go back now, even if you wanted to. Not knowing what you did. 

Chapter Text

Time passed in a blur, for both you and Technoblade. You because you did not leave the house. Why would you? You didn't trust anyone else in L'manburg since Q told you Phil had left, and he brought you food enough to be content. You even fall into a semi normal sleeping pattern, or as close to sleeping as you could manage. It mostly consisted of staring up at the ceiling until everything grew numb. 

Techno was much more active than you, collecting supplies and working to provide for Tommy. The two had fallen into a camaraderie over time, working together to sneak around L'manburg and plan ‘minor’ terrorism. The easy way he slipped back into his old ways made chat happy, but it made his stomach churn. It hadn't been too long ago that he would do anything to avoid it just for you, but as soon as you'd left he'd found comfort in the old violence and war plans.

Neither of you felt great after the altercation, but neither had the strength to go and find the other. It was an awful cycle, but you both trudge through it without pushing against the grain. What good would going against expectations do now? The only people that would want you to push against it was the one person that you couldn't reach. For both of you.

Maybe if you had changed to some sort of warrior or at least find some form of safety in the way he handled rage and conflict to protect you instead of running things would be better. 

Maybe if he had let the voices go on talking and ignored the ache for blood then you would never have left. You would still be there to tease him and to smother Tommy with the affection that outpoured from you.

Maybe you both would still have the other. If only you had changed.

But changing for love was no longer an option. You were too stubborn or too stuck to try and it was easier to just sit in the expectations everyone had. You were plenty content with this life.

Q was just happy you had forgotten about the cape. You were so easy to distract, he'd gotten you a potion stand and you'd messed with it for a solid two days before talking to him again. Isolationists were weird. At least you weren't talking to yourself like the pig did.

He was lucky you'd given the cape to him in the first place, with how attached you were to it. You cried about it whenever you slept, and even he felt the tiniest bit guilty, but he needed it for his plans. Which he could probably put into action soon. 

----

It was another trip to L'manburg for the boys and Tommy wouldn't stop pulling at his cape. It was like that was the only way he thought he could get his attention. Ridiculous.

“Hound army pog”

“Terrorism arc?”

“They're brothers your honor”

“I miss his neighbor..”

“They aren't actually brothers, stfu”

He snorts at the fuss chat is putting up. He was lucky they hadn't gotten bored of the same old errands. Him and Tommy both down invisibility potions as they cross into L'manburg. It still kept expanding and growing. This government was more of a weed than Wilbur's and that was saying something. Too bad Tommy wouldn't let him tear the place up yet. It would be fun, and make good revenge for the voices to feed on. Blood for the blood god and all that.

Even when he spots Q leaving a tucked away nook he doesn't react. He should, honestly, Quackity was the reason behind his current situation. Still, the man had no clue where you would be, so there was no use in threatening him.

He's so distracted by Tommy's rambling and checking his errand list that he doesn't realize that the potions have worn off. However a bored pair of eyes just so happen to be staring out the window.

You can't believe it, techno practically materializes out of thin air and the smile on his face fills you with an ache. You hop up, the most energy you'd had in days, and bolt to the door. 

He's here, In L'manburg, you could run over and hug him if you wanted. And you do. You want to go back and get away from people. So you do something stupid.

“TECHNO!” You cry out, tears stream down your face without your permission and it echoes against the stone walls.

Everything turns to slow motion and a few things all happen at once. Techno turns towards you with eyes full of shock, but when he sees you reaching out to him it turns to a smile, only briefly before the chaos unfolds. People poor from their houses, weapons at the ready to defend the country and your heart falls. You'd betrayed him.

You are just about to bolt towards him to get out of town when you're grabbed and pulled down by Q. He had spotted you and saw how likely you were to run so he sprinted to catch you. The yelp that escapes is one of aching agony and regret. You are forced to watch from Quackity’s arms as Techno’s smile turns to hurt and he splashes a potion against the ground. Him and the blond boy ready weapons as they disappear once more. 

Things speed up once more but you feel numb. You can't watch as weapons clash together and the crowd tries to find Technoblade. You don't register the loud and broken sobs that cole out of you as you continue to struggle, kicking and squirming. Q just holds tighter and pulls you inside. He's already trying to calm you down.

“It's okay, they'll handle it and get him out of here.” You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you sick.

“Nononono, you don't- you don't understand- he's- I want to go with him, let me go-” you sound hysterical and your breathing is shallow and panicked.

“Why? He's a war criminal, you shouldn't want to go with him.” Q tries to pull you into a hug to rub circles into your back but you fight too much for him to do more than restrain you.

“I don't care, he's my friend, I need to tell him I'm sorry- give me my cloak so I can get to him.” The tears have stopped and your only goal is to get to Techno.

“...just- wait until tomorrow? So you aren't so caught up in this panic? I don't want to see you hurt.” You pause, taking in a shaky breath before nodding and going lax in his arms. He just wanted to keep you safe.

It was a sweet gesture, but you would leave tomorrow no matter what.

Chapter Text

Techno and Tommy had bolted as soon as the potion had taken effect, there were too many people to fight off just yet. He wasn't prepared to be fighting much at all during that mission, having gotten cocky after so many perfect attempts at the same thing.

The one flaw in their plan, he'd lost track of the time left on the potions. Tommy had cracked one too many jokes and he'd already been too confident. It was honestly his fault that he hadn't splashed them sooner with the second dose.

That wasn't what hurt though. They'd gotten out fine, too quick for anyone to catch. What hurt was seeing you there. You left to get away from danger and yet you were in L'manburg. They were the reason you'd run in the first place.

Even chat had been shocked and enraged at seeing you.

“!!!”

“What?”

“Why are they here?”

“Fuck! Run!”

“Get Theseus”

“Betrayal-”

He didn't want to believe it, but your voice echoes in his head. You must have realized by then that he was a wanted man, if not from the locals then from the posters that covered almost every wall. You weren't stupid. 

But apparently you were no longer an ally.

He had barely stayed long enough to see someone come to your aid and take you to the ground. Protect you. The way he wanted to. Of course it had to be Q as well, you were probably curled up with him and laughing at him.

At how he'd be so happy for that split second thinking you were happy to see him. In the moment he'd thought you sounded happy even. But then everything had turned to chaos and it was you who'd set it off. It hurt.

It hurt so much that he'd pulled your disc off it's permanent place in the jukebox and tossed it at the kid. He liked music right? Then he should be happy to get another disc. He could burn it for all Technoblade cared…

Maybe not burn it. 

Tommy had almost fallen over as soon as they'd made it back and crawled down to the hole in the basement to sleep off the adrenaline. Techno had not. He was standing in the snow staring at your empty house. Your mark was still everywhere in his life and he wanted rid of it.

“Burn it down!”

“Let the kid cover it in cobble”

“DESTROY IT”

“Violence and mayhem!”

“Technoarson?”

Even as the flint and steel rest in his hands and chat cheers him on he can't. He keeps seeing your face in the back of his. That split second when you looked panicked after his name had left your lips. He could pretend it was because you hadn't meant to betray him. You had wanted him to come in and save you, come back with him and help him plan the take down of L'manburg…

He could destroy the building another day. For now the kid was alone sleeping and he couldn't risk someone showing up and finding him. The woods may be dark but that meant anyone could be lurking. 

And someone is.

Techno is just about to turn in for the night, but he pauses on the porch, a hand resting over the now quickly fading wreath. He spares a glance to the woods one last time and something catches his eye.

His hand tightens on the grip of his axe and his eyes narrow. Gold fabric flits between trees and his heart catches in his throat. He hops down and runs to the woods.

Already being closer revealed the cloak he'd made you, draped over a figure… it didn't look quite right. The shoulders were different, and you never walked like that. And you knew exactly where the houses were, so why would you stumble around lost like this. Wary once more Techno’s shoulder hunch in and wait for…. The figure to turn.

It does and the hood falls to reveal Quackity. Techno lets out a snarl and stomps a foot on warning.

“That's not yours…” comes the low warning. Chat was urging him to finish it, take his last life and take the cloak to see if it still smelled like you.

“It's not really yours either is it?” The cocky grin is almost too much, but Q isn't wrong. Even the symbolism was wrong now. You weren't his, if you ever were. 

Before techno can get another word in Q is holding the fabric in his hand and raising it to eye level. Taunting him.

“It's such a shame really. It's such a nice cloak. Too bad they didn't want it anymore. Handed it to me almost as soon as we met. Said they were hurting or some other bullshit.” Q watches Technoblade for any reaction, and grins wider when he sees the hurt flash in his eyes for a second.

Only a second before he closes back up. Of course… he couldn't even pretend anymore. Not with proof staring him in the face that you'd given up. So he curls back into his shell and goes cold.

If even you'd given up on him, truly betrayed him… he wouldn't let himself be hurt again. He looks down to meet Quackity’s far too confident gaze with a cruel one of his own.

“I'd suggest you run then, if you're just here to tell me I've been betrayed. They aren't here to protect you, and that cape was made so I could spot it against the trees and the snow.” A good old fashioned duck hunt would be great catharsis after the day he'd had.

Q stumbles back into the snow, his confidence wavering.

“Y-you still care about them? I mean- if you still care then you'll leave L'manburg alone.” He tries to regain his footing but bolts as soon as Techno makes a move towards him.

It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic. 

Of course he still cared… but he couldn't let that stop him. He would just make certain you were safe. No matter what, he couldn't bring himself to hurting you. The idea of you hurt makes him bristle and even just the implication has chat on edge. They cared as well. Which meant he wouldn't be getting over this particular affliction anytime soon.

He still loved you. Loves you. Present tense. You had him trapped.

No matter how betrayed he felt, no matter how hurt, he couldn't imagine hurting you again. 

An eye for an eye, he supposed. You were even. Just strangers again. Not ally nor enemy, as all relationships eventually ended with. Transitive property and all that.

But god did it hurt.

Chapter Text

Weeks pass once again, and you still have yet to leave. That next day Q had come in all sheepish and carrying more sweets than normal. You'd asked him for your cloak still dead set on leaving but he'd forced you to sit and eat with him first.

You'd ended up sobbing after that conversation. When you wouldn't stop pestering him and prying for your belongings he sighs and pulls torn pieces of golden fabric out. Your hands fly to your mouth and you can't stop the outpouring of tears.

He'd left not too long after, leaving you with the pieces to mourn. You'd spent hours knelt on the ground trying to piece it back together. Nothing was salvageable in that moment. Pieces far too damaged or caked in mud for you to stitch back together. Your hands shook too much to even hold a needle anyway.

You hadn't even gotten to ask what happened before he'd fled. All you can do is pull the largest pieces close to your chest and curl in on yourself. You lost everything. 

Techno wouldn't want to see you. You had lost his gift. It was too cold to even make it out there again, and you had grown so used to cheap comforts that you were too weak to make the trek without help. No one here would help you.

So you isolate as much as you can. The door is locked against Q, you don't go to the windows, you don't even leave to get new wood for the fire, letting it turn to ash as you mope. You spend all your time not crying or comatose to slowly stitch up what you can. It's smaller and thinner as it comes together but it's coming together. 

You needed to fix it before you could run. You don't know where, but away. But you couldn't leave this behind. Funny how attached you still were to a silly piece of cloth… but it was most likely because he had made it for you. 

You couldn't have doused the flame of affection in your heart for anything after it had finally lit. 

----

Being isolated you didn't even know when the community house was blown up. You didn't even know what it was. You only barely register the sheer number of people all headed in the same direction before folding back into your hyperfocus. Fingers numb but you push forward.

Within the rubble Techno is armed and ready to fight as Dream and Tubbo yell words he doesn't care enough to pay attention to. All he really knows is that Theseus needs his help in this moment. 

When he spots Quackity with the rest of the government he only snarls but can't help but pick up on the lack of your scent. It sends chat into a frenzy that he needs to tamp down. 

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD”

“KILL DREAM”

“GUT THEM ALL”

He only blinks back in when he sees Theseus yelling back and when he starts punching his ex friend the voices get louder. Chaos unfolds and he charges in. They could take on most of this bunch, no sweat. 

He's about to strike down Quackity when everything freezes. Tommy was backpedaling and spluttering like mad. He regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth and even Techno was shocked. He was the one with the vendetta against L'manburg so hearing that was definitely a shock.

When the kid tells Tubbo to hand over the disc the slightest bit of worry fills his chest. This was too similar to what had happened with you. 

When he hesitates too long at the offer of escape, at Techno covering for both of them so they could get out he knows what's going on.

But it's when Tommy looks him in the eye and says 'I'm with Tubbo' is when it really locks in. After being hurt once he wasn't going to forgive. The rage boils over and he swings his blade to point at the child.

“This isn't what I meant Tommy. You literally just betrayed me.” Tommy splutters and tries to defend himself but it's no use. Techno was too stubborn and so was Tommy.

Chaos unfolds once more as Dream goes off. Techno just smiles lazily, enjoying his enemies getting berated and brought down a peg. It's great to just fiddle with the mechanisms on his crossbow and think about the best ways to go about getting his revenge. But first he'd need to ask a few questions of his own.

“Techno… y’got any withers?” Perfect. The smile that curls up on his face is brutal and cruel as he is just about to nod when Quackity pipes up. 

“But you don't want to blow up L'manburg..” 

“And why is that?” Right now he was blind with rage and vengeance. He could level the country in under an hour.

“Your old neighbor! They..” he goes pale and gulps down air like he's drowning, “they're gone-”

“Gone?” You were gone? That would explain why you weren't here… why he couldn't smell you on any of these bastards. But how long had you been dead?

“Yeah, so you might be too busy-”

“If they're dead then there's nothing left to protect L'manburg from me. You should have protected them more,” he wasn't going to cry. Not in front of this many people but he could threaten and he could bide his time.

“He let them die, kill him”

“BLOOD FOR BLOOD”

“...they're gone..”

“TECHNORAGE”

“LMANHOLE”

“Tomorrow at 3, L'manburg is going down in flames.” Dream pipes up before he vanishes. 

Chaos unfolds once again like it had never even stopped and he runs out of L'manburg, not even sparing a glance back to your empty house. It would only cause him grief. 

Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. Now it was just him and Phil against the world. 

And he couldn't even appreciate it because you were dead.

---- 

The door rattles with a panic but you ignore it. You were so close. You just needed to fit the last pieces together, please they just need to fit. 

The tear stains are invisible against the ruined fabric and the blood only visible against the few clean pieces. Your fingers are a mess of pinpricks and stray threads and you couldn't care less. You were just happy that you were almost done. You would be finished by the next night and you could leave. You could get to Technoblade and apologize for everything.

“OPEN UP! PLEASE” the voice is Quackity's but you can't find it in yourself to care. He probably was just trying to bring you food again. Eventually he leaves when you don't answer and you go right back to sewing.

It was ugly and broken and damaged, but it was irreplaceable.

----

After he'd blown up the mess in his basement with Phil, Techno stands watching your house from the window.

“We have enough spare, mate. We could get rid of that as well.” Phil offers, placing a hand on his shoulder. Techno just shakes his head.

The house had started decaying, the freeze setting into the wood and bloating it. The chimney was falling apart and the door had fallen off its hinges. But he couldn't bring himself to tear it down. It was one of the last things he had of yours. 

Of course he still had the notes, but they'd grown so fragile that he'd locked them away so they couldn't be damaged. Even if they'd taken you away, trapped you and made you afraid until you'd died, they would never take the memory of you from him. 

For now, he turns to Phil with cold eyes and a devilish smile. They had a country to burn to ash.

Revenge would be sweet.

Chapter Text

The cape was… well it was something. It fit over your shoulders and it was warmer than anything else you had. The night had passed by without your knowledge and having finished it you finally let exhaustion seep in. 

She welcomes you with a warm embrace and lets gentle tears slip from your eyes as you sink in. You know you won't dream but you let the comfort of your hard work, sleep, and the idea of reuniting with Techno lull you to sleep.

It's the best thing you can do in that moment as Q finally gets in. He sees you, out like a light and curled up by the long dead fire. Guilt wells up in him at the sight of the cape, but at least you were still here. Maybe he could get you to talk Techno out of working with Dream. 

To him you look almost mad, but you feel as sane as you've been in weeks. You feel safe and who was he to try and take that from you. So he just leaves a note pinned to your door frame.

“If the explosions haven't started yet can you make it to the museum? If they have, you should get out. I'm sorry- your old neighbor has threatened to bomb L'manburg and I fear for everyone's safety.

-Q”

Hopefully you'd still be on their side when you woke. 

They knew that they needed as many hands as possible.

----

The cold air smelled of gunpowder and soul sand. Dream’s laughter was echoing and much too bright, but no one was mourning.

Why would anyone truly mourn on a day like today? Techno could grieve properly when L'manburg was dust under his heel, for now he was celebrating a perfect plan and a win under his belt.

He doesn't let his thoughts drift from the plan. If they had.. hypothetically…

He would be stuck on memories of you. The way you were so much more careful with potion making than he was. The way your laugh compared to Dream’s. Yours was in all ways better, it didn't have the underlying insanity. He would think about the letters that had been retucked under his armor so you could be with him. The cloak that no longer would sit on your shoulders and grab his attention from a distance. He would think about the disc that he no longer had…

But he doesn't. He can't. He won't. Because if he does he won't be able to properly avenge you. L'manburg had taken you from him twice and it wouldn't live to take your memory. 

The tears on his cheeks are definitely only sweat from how quickly he's having to prep. For some reason moving up the time of L'manburg’s fall. Whatever. It meant it would be gone sooner.

He didn't know that you still sat sleeping in L'manburg. That this might truly be your undoing, not whatever neglect he thought had been the cause.

So the wind howls on. Uncaring about what misfortune may happen with confusion underfoot. 

Dream creates his grid of tnt machines above a foggy and tired country. 

People swarm with confusion when supplies are lost- betrayal still in effect. Technoblade was right on something. Betrayal was inevitable in some cases. 

You slumber through it all, head thick with sleep and finally a smile on your face as your breath stays even through the panic surrounding you.

----

The hound army was great. It kept the fight at bay so techno and Phil could finish the distraction. Withers everywhere, loud and violent. 

Techno was having the time of his life tearing them to shreds. Nothing could stop his rampage as he tore through and he did it all with a maniacal grin. 

Quackity had bolted from him as soon as he'd appeared, fighting other people off to the side so that he didn't have to face the rage so soon. You weren't out yet so he couldn't use you. 

When the first wither hit your wall you fall from the bed with a thud. All peace you'd had was gone in seconds.

You were in hell. You'd died before you could make it back. That's why it was so loud, and so bright, and so much. 

Your hands clamp over you ears and you shut your eyes tight, stumbling over to grab your bag and back to the door. When it's blown open you have to tear open your eyes to face the carnage. 

Seeing withers everywhere you duck against the wall to be smaller and less of a target. The cape was less than perfect to hide with, but it was easier now that it had lost its shine. 

You had as well, eyes dull as you cling to cold and damp stone to drag your way out of hell. It couldn't stop you from trying, forcing your way back to him. To tuck against him and tell him that you regretted everything.

Technoblade doesn't notice you from his spot on the rubble he's caused. He's far too distracted with Theseus and his weak excuses. 

How very unlucky it is. 

As you scrambled against the sheer walls you slip and let out a small Yelp, losing a few inches down the side of the wall. Your head pounded and you looked around for help.

The yell just echoes against the walls to be muffled by the chaos. Chat catches on but Techno ignores it. Your voice had been echoing in his head since he'd learned you had died.

“ITS THEM”

“But the tnt-”

BLOODBLOODBLOOD”

“SAVE THEM”

“LET THEM ALL BURN”

They couldn't even agree on the correct course of action. 

But you could. You spot him and yell out for him. It's almost the same yell as it was before but this time he was already distracted, you were too far away, and the withers covered the echo.

He doesn't turn around. Your heart sinks in your chest and you can't see past the tears….but you can still hear.

A click echoes above you and a hissing starts to grow louder. You clamber to get out of the hole you were stuck in. You aren't fast enough, not like everyone else whosjumps out of the way as soon as they see what's happenings 

Just as you reach the edge to climb out something lands behind you and goes off with a loud bang. Your ears ring and you can't see much, only enough to pull yourself up and out. 

It's all you can do to crawl to your feet and limp away. You don't have the strength to run anymore, but you have the adrenaline to leave.

You leave behind the conflict and pain and destruction, headed back to the snow. The pure white snow that had saved you before. You want to fall into it, be buried in it and let it numb you to the world. 

The snow would carry you wherever you needed to go, just like sleep protected you in her arms. Oh how you loved them both. 

The cloak clings to your back, and you are happy for its weight. It seemed heavier since leaving, but you assume it's just the exhaustion.

Your vision starts to fade and you can feel the tears drip down. You weren't going to make it before sleep pulled you down. At least you could see the snow falling down. It was beautiful. They danced in the air and landed on your skin. They don't melt against it and you smile. The snow was claiming you as well.

It's not long before you collapse. Your head swims with pain as you try to look up. The stars were dancing like the snow. The snow kisses your cheeks and blends with the tear tracks.

At least this is peaceful. You can just fall asleep here in the snow. You can imagine it's that night so long ago. Techno is coming with a blanket and firewood, that’s it. You just need to sleep, that's it.

And so you do. 

It's gentle and kind and easy. You are in fact smiling when your breathing goes weak and you don't have to watch the snow turn pink around you. The sun sets and your breath turns from icy clouds to barely enough to get your chest to move.

You've stopped shivering by the time he finds you.

But he does find you. The only question is if he's too late...

Chapter Text

The snow was heavy coming down, barely able to be seen through. Though the wind was rough and pulling at his cape it sang through the branches as he pushed forward to get home. 

He felt at ease after L'manburg had turned to rubble. You were avenged and no one would hurt you again. You could rest easy and he would honor your memory. 

He already plans to fix your house up, make it a little smaller, but big enough that he could sit inside and play music and read your letters. He would defend that to the end, because it was all he had left. 

The wind picks up further and he can't see the footsteps left in the snow, but something is off. It smells like gunpowder and blood. He'd left that smell in L'manburg so why had it followed him all the way out here.

It's not until he sees the dull yellow fabric half buried by snow that he realizes. He rushes up to the snow bank to see what has happened, who was this far out here. He's ready to see Quackity and finish him off for trying to rub his loss in further. But then he sees you.

You left alone in the snow, not even a fire to warm your face. Who would leave a fire for a body-

“NO NOT DEAD"

"NOT THEM"

"KILL KILL KILL KILL"

"BLOOD FOR BLOOD”

There was so much blood it was hard to convince himself that you were still in there. He can only hope you are, the ache in his chest at the thought- it was so much worse than betrayal...

He gets close enough to see the snowflakes on your cheeks and how it doesn't melt at the body heat... fuck. You had even stopped shivering. It was almost funny how much smaller you looked when you weren't shivering. You looked like the night he'd met you...

Even the rise and fall of your chest was stilted and barely there. But it was there. He won't deny that he wraps you in his arms and cape and pulls you tight to his chest like he should have on that night. 

He could have had all of you so much sooner. He could have had your laughter and warmth with so much less, but now... now you lay limp in his arms. 

If only he could go back, change it. Maybe he wouldn't have failed, you would be safe back in his cottage and warm by the fire. Hands running over his head and behind his ears, and his own hands in your hair, pulling it back into a braid instead of slick with blood.

Even the voices grew silent with grief. He couldn't watch you die, watch you ghost like Wilbur... 

He might not be able to go back, but he wouldn't let you go just yet .

So he carries you, out of sight under his cape, but tucked against him to try and leak some heat into you. He doesn't care if you steal all of it, you need warmth more than him.

The house is so far away it feels like, as the snow comes down. It seems an endless field of white until the barest hint of dark woods comes into his sight and he can feel the slightest bit of hope. 

He practically breaks the door down rushing to get you out of the cold. He doesn't set you down though, too afraid you'd vanish if he did. So one arm holds you and the other stokes the fire. He needs it roaring. If he thought you could handle it he would've already taken you to the nether but the dry heat would only do more damage.

He eventually pulls his cape off to make you more comfortable. He's extremely careful as he takes yours off afterwards. He can see the stains in the fabric and the tight stitching to cobble it together. You must have spent days if not weeks on this and it warms his heart to see how much you cared about it. 

Quackity had lied. You were still alive, you didn't hate him, and you had tried to get to him. That's why you were so far from L'manburg when he'd found you. 

At that his heart sinks. You smelled like gunpowder still, and he can see the scorch marks on the cloak. You had been hurt because he'd believed you were dead. He shakes the guilt off and folds the fragile fabric, placing it to the side. 

He's careful as he patches you up, hands not as deft as Phil's but he's as gentle as he can be. The bleeding wasn't bad, but you needed those burns kept clean and dry. 

As soon as you are bandaged up though, he can't find it in him to touch you again. You being hurt was his fault, in more than one way and he didn't feel like he should be allowed to hold you. To keep you safe with the very same hands that had helped cause you pain.

But he can't help you any other way. Proper help for low body temperature like you had was skin to skin contact. Without your permission he didn't want to go too far but he peels his own shirt off. He is incredibly gentle when he does the same for you, before pulling you into his arms. 

He settles both of you into his chair, your back to his chest and fire close enough to wave heat onto the both of you. He shakes softly from both guilt and incredible relief. 

The blankets that end up covering the both of you are comforting and the soft silence of the two of you let's him finally feel.

Tears he didn't want to fall, do, and he can't stop them. He doesn't sob or shake, but he does cry. It's all he can do to just sit and wait and hope for some sign you were okay. You were still breathing shallowly but breathing nonetheless.

The fire flickers still. The snow doesn't slow. Your house remains empty, but warmth still slips into the space. 

If you were awake you would be sobbing along with Techno. You had thought you wouldn't make it, that the snow would bury you before anyone found you. Instead you are limp in his arms, breath shuddering and quiet, a mess in every state of the word, but you are at peace.

Techno can take comfort in that. You may be hurt, but you're safe. He pulls your hand up to look it over in the firelight. The rough tips, now callous and scabbed over are still just as perfect as when he remembers how pale and soft they used to be. 

You are still just as small, but it makes it easier for him to hold on. He never wants to let go again, but he knows that if you wake and ask him he would let go in a heartbeat. 

You would be the maker of any decision to move forward. Even if he wanted to pull you in and kiss you like you were his air, he wouldn't. Too nervous to make the first move anyhow, but even more so, ready to wait a thousand years for you to feel the same. 

For now, he clings to you, letting the moon shine on and and fights sleep for as long as it tries to claim him. He couldn't sleep through a minute of this, not for anything. He needed to be awake when you do.

So he starts telling you a story. Not one that he'd read to you before, one he used to have memorized from Greek mythos. The tale of Eros and Psyche. His voice is never louder than a whisper but no one is there to tease when it wavers or he stumbles over words to remember. No one is there to see the tears slip down or the panic every time your breathing slows the slightest. 

No one is there to see him weak.

Most importantly, no one is there to see him break into sobs when you finally start to shiver again. So grateful that he presses a kiss to your temple in a moment of weak joy. Instead of recognizing it and feeling guilty, he buries his face in your neck and just relaxes. You would be okay. You were warming up. 

He hadn't failed you. 

Chapter Text

You don't wake just yet. 

You stay stuck in the webs of your own head, caught in between fever and cold on loop. It's concerning enough that Techno looks for help. Only from Phil of course. He would trust no one else with you. 

Phil is in shock to see you alive, however weak, and dives in to help Technoblade care for you. He cares for techno as well, knowing he hadn't been while you were in such a state. 

The two of them take shifts caring for you, having set up a cot by the fire so you never had to be moved up and down the ladder. Sleep is easier for Techno knowing you won't be alone. He doesn't want you to wake up with no one there to comfort you.

He had no clue what you would be thinking when you woke and it terrifies him that you might wake with tears and screams at the sight of him. His hands shake every time the thought crosses his mind. The way you might look at him with fear-

“SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP”

“But they love you!”

“If they don't love you than I'm free”

“Fear is good.”

“Not from them!”

“Dadza”

“Technosoft”

At least the voices were back. They'd swarmed back in when your breathing had evened. It was such an amazing moment, being able to see you breathing finally. He couldn't express the joy that had brought up in him.

Since Phil’s arrival, techno has taken the time to look over your cape. The stains are obviously not your doing, except for the small spots of blood around the seams. You didn't even smell the same as the discolored mud caked into the fabric. He can't stand that it doesn't smell like you, only of gunpowder and blood, so he sets his mind on a new project.

That same gold fabric is pulled down along with the same red of his. He works on it when the panic tries to well up, or the voices call for blood. His hands work so his mind doesn't have to. And Phil smiles tiredly as he watches. 

He knows grieving like this. He'd done it for Wilbur, and his wife. He still didn't want to let go, but Phil lacked the hope that kept Techno going. He doesn't see you surviving past the next freeze, with your fever worsening and how often he has to check you breathing to make sure you haven't died.

It would be brutal if you did, so he keeps his thoughts quiet. Techno could have his grief and his hope, and Phil would be there no matter what the outcome.

----

You can't open your eyes. Can't move your arms. It feels like you're trapped underwater but you're still breathing. It's awful. The weight on your chest hurts and every part of your body aches. It feels like your blood is made of ice and you're melting from the inside out. 

For some reason though, despite all of this, you feel….safe. You can't smell gunpowder and you let yourself drift in this space. Without the weight on your shoulders you feel like there's nothing tying you down. Nothing grounding you.

Until you hear a familiar voice so close by. It was Phil. He was here. You would smile if you could, but you settle for the warmth that fizzles in your chest, even when it hurts.

“Mate, what are you doing up so early? I still have watch for another three hours.” You can't hear the response but you do hear Phil’s laugh and a flutter of wings.

“They're fine. No incidents tonight. Look for yourself.” You have to strain to hear the shuffling of feet and the softest grunt in response.

It's him. You ache to open your eyes, or reach out a hand, or do anything, but you can't. So you let yourself fade back. You can't handle being so close yet not close enough.

You don't know how much time passes of you trapped in your own head, but at some point you focus in enough to feel someone holding your hand. It didn't squeeze or anything, the hand just holds yours. It's not that you don't want to wake up, you ache to at this moment, but you can't.

And so that's when the tears leak out. They're thick and slow as they slip down your cheek. A soft snuffle echoes in your head and a thumb brushes away the salty brine.

“It's okay. You're safe. I'm going to fix your house when Phil wakes up. You don't need to worry, psyche.” The voice is low and rumbling and the nickname curls up in your chest and sets the embers aflame. 

It takes a long time to focus and to gain the strength, but when Techno pulls his hand away from your cheek you squeeze his hand. It's weak and barely there, but he can feel it. You hear just how quickly he jumps up, not taking his hand out from yours. 

“Can you hear me? Please tell me you're okay- PHIL!” You squeeze his hand again and let yourself fade back once more. You don't have the strength. 

You are lifted into his arms and pulled tight to his chest. He keeps talking to you, but you don't respond again. You can barely hear him talking, but you manage to tuck the corner of your mouth up before fading completely. 

----

Techno had panicked the first time he'd felt you respond, thinking he'd made it up in his own head, but the second time? Oh he'd scooped you into his arms no hesitation and ran to go find Phil. You were so close, he'd be able to wake you right?

“Kdrama levels rn”

“dadza gonna fix Psyche”

“He called them psyche- my heart”

“Protect!”

He shakes the voices away. He doesn't need to be distracted right now. 

Him and Phil meet at the door, Phil with a bottle of regen in his hand and a sword in the other. He takes one look at you in his arms and tucks both away. He rolls up his sleeves and offers to take you in his arms. Without hesitation Techno growls and pulls you closer. Despite trusting Phil and knowing he needed help he wouldn't let you go.

“Alright mate, just let me in then. I need to get a warm compress and bandages. What happened?” Phil brushes past and immediately gets to work. 

Techno sighs and sits down with you in his lap. He presses his hand to your forehead and his chest clenches when your lashes flutter.

“They're waking up. They squeezed my hand and they're eyes are moving.” It's as monotonous as he can get but even Phil can tell he's worried.

“That's a good thing, right?”

“Yes- I just don't want them to be afraid when they wake up, ya know?” He looks up to see Phil looking at him with sad concern in his eyes.

“Alright. Just keep them steady while I fix the bandages. We'll stay up together this time so yo- so they won't be alone.” 

Techno nods and lets himself cling to you while Phil works. On occasion he squeezes your hand hoping to get a response.

Every once and a while, he does.

----

It's dark. Your eyes are gritty and it's silent. You still feel like you're stuck in that sludge but you come out of it. You let out a weak cough and try to move your arm only to find it held down by a larger hand.

It's techno, he hadn't moved. You were still being held by him, but the slow rise and fall of his chest means he's sleeping. So you let yourself relax and look forward to the fire. 

It dances and as you watch the ache in your bones settles in. You aren't willing to move, to break this spell even if it means the ache doesn't fade.

When you look up again, Phil is watching you with a soft smile. You manage one in return and he chuckles. Techno’s arm around you tightens ever so slightly and you wince.

It's a good silence as you and Phil sit and watch the fire and listen to the soft grunts Technk makes in his sleep. It's something you want to hold on to. Makes you regret running in the first place, being here in his arms.

“He missed you ya know.” Phil cuts into your thoughts and you turn to look at Techno. How your chest warms when you do. 

“I did too… that's why I yelled out for him…” your voice, it's small and shaky, but it's still there and it makes you smile. 

“I was worried when you left, that you had planned to make him weak. I was wrong. You two make each other strong.” He smiles at the fire as you let out a shuddering sigh.

“I hope so.” 

The quiet fades back in and you almost drift to sleep again, safe enough and tired enough to fall back quickly, but when Techno shifts you force your eyes open. 

You turn to him and squeeze his hand. The only thing you trust yourself to do without crying.

When he wakes up to the feeling he looks to Phil with wide eyes.

“They squeezed my hand again. How long do you think until they wake up?” Phil just shrugs and chuckles.

“Ask em yourself mate” and techno's eyes turn down to meet yours.

“Hello neighbor.” You almost choke on the words and your eyes tear up. 

The both of you are together again. It's something that you'd both given up hope on, and it was perfect. Neither of you notice when Phil slips out into the snow, wrapped up in memorizing the others' face. 

“I'm sorry..” is the first thing to break the silence. His eyes are full of sorrow. You just weakly shake your head and brush it against his.

“No need.” 

And with that you both fall into silence, foreheads resting against one another, and hands intertwined. The only sounds to echo through the house are winds at the window and the soft crackle of the fire. 

Now this is something you would be willing to never run from. To never fear, to hold on to and to love. Neither of you needed to say it for it to be true in both hearts, in both heads. So you let it go unsaid for a while. You just sit like this until the fire dims and tears are dry on your cheeks. Until you don't know what time of day it is outside.

But then you say it.

It's quiet and tired, but it's there. It hangs in the air for him to grab and he does. He tilts your head back and pulls you into a sweet and chaste kiss. It's perfect for the two of you, slow and warm. When he pulls away your eyes are full of the stars and he can regret nothing. 

And then he says it.

And you both sink into it. The feeling of being known and loved and protected and safe. It's everything you both need and crave and nothing can take it from you. 

Like Eros and Psyche, like two souls meant for the other, like a perfect match. 

It's perfect, and whole, and quiet.