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Well I've sung this song a thousand times
I wore the crown, I sold the lie
I lived the life and paid for every crime, yeah
It's all downhill, still it's a climb
Through blood and tears but I don't mind
I'll just keep singing on and on and on
“Get away from the window, you two - the boy’s will get back when they get back,” Kristinscolded Phil and Tommy gently. They had taken window-side seats early that morning and hadn’t moved since, not even to get changed. Neither of them wanted to miss the return of the two boys.
“Aren’t you excited, though?” Tommy asked, looking up at Kristinwide-eyed.
“Thought you didn’t want to see the bitch boys again,” Phil commented, shooting Tommy a knowing look before returning back to fix his eyes on the driveway.
“I don’t!” Tommy scowled and when Phil glanced at him again, he was amused to find that his youngest son’s cheeks were glowing bright pink. “But… bitch boy owes me and Tubbo ice cream.”
“And Ranboo,” Kristinreminded him, laughing as she walked back into the kitchen.
“And Ranboo,” Tommy agreed, scoffing a little. Phil didn’t have to look at him to know that Tommy was rolling his eyes at the mention of his best friend’s best friend.
“I thought you and Ranboo were getting along now?” Phil teased, nudging Tommy, who scoffed loudly.
“As if I’d ever want to be friends with that fucking lanky piece of shit, bastard bitch boy,” Tommy cursed.
“I like Ranboo,” Phil commented mildly, biting back his smirk, well-aware of the reaction that his words would bring from his son.
Though Tommy’s response never came as, instead, gravel crunched outside and both of them gasped in excitement as Technoblade’s beaten-up pick up truck pulled into the driveway.
“They’re here!” Tommy screeched, dashing out of the room.
Phil followed him, much slower. He made eye contact with his wife, who emerged from the kitchen, the two of them sharing an amused look.
“Careful, Tommy - anyone would think that you’re excited to see your brothers,” Phil teased, but Tommy paid him no mind as he flung the front door open and sprinted down the front path to where Technoblade was straightening up his car.
“Whose side do we take if Techno runs Tommy over?” Phil asked and Kristincovered her mouth to muffle her laughter.
“Who do you love more?”
“So... Techno’s?”
“I heard that!” Tommy screeched, outraged.
Familiar laughter rang out, warming Phil’s heart as Wilbur climbed out of the passenger seat, eagerly accepting the hug that Tommy practically forced him into.
“It’s not like it’s news, Tommy!” Wilbur said, still laughing, ruffling his brother’s hair before he released him.
“Shut up,” Technoblade muttered in response. Phil frowned at his son, not completely convinced by the small smile fixed on his face.
Tommy broke away from Wilbur to practically jump on Techno.
“I made Phil buy those expensive potatoes you like!” He exclaimed, eyes bright.
Tommy would never in a million years admit it to their faces, but Phil knew that he hated it when his older brothers left town. Ever since they had gone to university (together, Phil wasn’t sure if that made it easier or harder for Tommy to deal with), the youngest child had missed his brothers. To the point that sometimes he would see Tommy stealing one of Techno’s many, many sweaters to wear, and some mornings Phil would catch sight of Tommy sneaking out of Wilbur’s room, presumably having spent the night in there rather than his own bed.
Tommy wasn’t used to the quiet. He loved his brothers and the chaos they brought with them - Phil knew how much Tommy missed them, because it was on par with the amount that he missed his sons too.
“Did you bring me a gift?” Tommy asked eagerly, following his brothers as they walked to where their suitcases was stored.
Phil laughed, seeing Technoblade roll his eyes.
The pink-haired man shoved one of the bags into Tommy’s arms, who gave him the most outraged expression possibly.
“Make yourself useful, Gremlin,” he ordered, though there was no real malice in his voice.
“We’re students, [email protected],” Wilbur reminded him, swinging his guitar case onto his back. “You think we have enough money for food, nevermind buying presents for blond gremlin bastards?”
“I’m not a bastard!” Tommy protested. “I might not remember them but I’m sure that my blood parents didn’t have me out of wedlock!”
Phil watched as the boys continued bickering, a fond smile on his face.
“Hey, Wil,” he said, stepping back to allow Wilbur in through the front door.
Wilbur didn’t hesitate before dropping all of his bags onto the hallway floor and wrapping him into a hug.
“Hey, Dadza,” he teased.
“We haven’t touched your rooms since you guys left, except to change the sheets yesterday,” Phil said, unashamed on the happy tears that were shining in his eyes when Wilbur released him at last. Technoblade stood awkwardly in the doorway, arms still laden with bags.
“Hey Phil,” he said, allowing Phil to hug him, too. Though, Techno didn’t drop the bags he was holding and his body was tense in Phil’s embrace. He released him a lot quicker than he had with Wilbur, studying the face of his son. Technoblade avoided his eyes and Phil glanced over at Wilbur, who was watching his brother with an expression on his face that Phil couldn’t quite place.
“Hey boys,” Kristinbroke in, cutting through the tension. Wilbur beamed at her, hugging her.
“Hey Kristen,” Technoblade said, dredging up another smile. “I’m gonna… take my stuff upstairs,” he added awkwardly. He didn’t wait for a response before walking towards the staircase, bags in hand.
Phil watched him go, frowning.
“Will- is everything okay with Techno?” He asked, unable to stop himself.
Wilbur looked at him and a guilty expression flashed quickly across his face before it smoothed over again to something far more neutral.
“He’s just tired - long drive, you know,” Wilbur laughed unconvincingly, raising a hand and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Phil made a non-committal sound, staring at the stairs where Technoblade had disappeared.
“So you’re going to take me out for ice cream, right?” Tommy asked eagerly, snapping Phil out of his thoughts. He looked at his other two sons, smiling a little at how the blond boy was tugging excitedly at Wilbur’s sleeve.
“I was hoping you’d forgotten that I promised you that,” Wilbur groaned, though he couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Tommy. “When do you and Tubster want to go?”
“Is Techno gonna come?” Tommy asked eagerly and Wilbur’s expression morphed into something a lot more uncomfortable than before.
“I don’t know,” he said shortly.
“Tommy’s got a new friend, by the way - so you’ll have to take Ranboo as well,” Phil butted in, partially to save Wilbur, who looked uncomfortable at the idea of further questioning about Techno, and partially because he wanted to see Tommy’s reaction.
“Fuck off! That tall fuckin’ lanky masked bastard is not my friend!”
“Oh! I’m going to get to meet Ranboo! I’ve heard so much about him!” Wilbur said, grinning, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Who the fuck’s been telling you about Ranboo that bitch dickhead child?”
“Tommy you are literally a child,” Wilbur pointed out before beginning to walk down the hallway towards the stairs. Tommy was hot on his heels, though, continuing to argue with him.
“That’s besides the point! The point is that Ranboo is a bitch and I am a big man - and big men do not hang out with bitch boys.”
“So why’s he coming for ice cream, then?”
“Because Tubbo isn’t as much of a big man as I am!”
Their bickering faded away as they climbed the stairs, presumably so that Wilbur could drop his stuff in his old room.
“You okay?” Kristen’s voice was gentle, her hand coming to rest on his arm. Phil looked over at her and bit his lip worriedly.
“Something seemed up with Techno, don’t you think?”
Kristen’s expression softened sympathetically.
She was a relatively new addition to all of their lives. Phil had been dating her (he refused to admit it was a secret at first, but all three of his boys liked to tease him about it) for almost six months before introducing her to his sons. Wilbur and Tommy had welcomed her into their lives with open arms, but it took Techno a little longer to become comfortable with her - Phil didn’t rank his sons in terms of their trauma before he adopted them, but if he did, Techno would definitely take first place.
When she had moved in a few months after that initial meeting, though, she had Techno had found a lot of common ground. The Watson household was often filled with chaos, especially when Tommy would have friends over and Phil had to admit that a lot of the time he played a large part in encouraging the chaos. Techno had always been a little calmer than the others, more reserved. He would sometimes excuse himself from conversations to hide up in his room and take a breather away from Tommy and Wilbur and even Phil himself.
To have Kristinmove in, it turned out, was a relief to Techno. Kristin- while a lot of fun and always ready to join in with the kids’ antics - was a breath of fresh air to his middle child. She had a sense for when things got too much for Techno, she was a calm element in their life that Techno appreciated more than he would ever say to any of them.
“It’s just Techno - you know what he’s like, Phil. He always gets a little funny when he comes back for a while,” Kristinreminded him. “It’s like Wilbur said - he’s probably just tired from driving all this way and exhausted from… Tommy,” Phil had to laugh at that.
“Your right - probably stressing about the reunion as well, knowing him.”
“Exactly,” Kristinagreed. “He’s fine. Just needs to adjust to life back here.”
Phil intertwined his fingers with his wife’s and squeezed gently, praying that she was right.
Phil stumbled down the stairs, squinting through his almost completely closed eyes, hand gripping tightly at the banister. He shivered as his feet hit the cool wooden floor of the hallway, his hand on the wall guiding his way towards the kitchen. One he was through the doorway, he fumbled around before his fingers landed clumsily on the light switch.
He shut his eyes tight against the sudden brightness of the kitchen.He reached up and rubbed hard at his eyes before stretching his arms up in the air, rolling his shoulders back and hearing them click.
It was as he was filling his glass up with water from the sink that he realised that the outside light was on. He turned off the tap and padded across the room to the big sliding glass doors that gave access from the kitchen to the patio.
“Everything alright, mate?” He asked, surprising himself with just how raspy his voice was from sleeping.
Technoblade’s head jolted up, eyes wide behind his glasses, startled by Phil’s sudden presence.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Phil chuckled, holding his hands up in mock defence.
Techno let out a long breath, forcing a smile onto his face.
His long, pink hair was messy, cascading down his back in tangled waves rather than his usual pony-tail or plait - a sign that he, too, had woken up. His glasses were lopsided on his nose and it made Phil’s heart pang with affection, reminding him of when Techno was young and used to wear his glasses all the time, before he got contacts. He was wearing a huge jumper, one that Phil recognised as being his leaver’s hoodie from secondary school. It had been huge on him then, but now it practically swamped him and for the first time since his return home, Phil noticed that Techno - usually large and muscular - was looking a lot thinner than the last time he had visited.
There was a blanket across his lap, protecting him just a little from the cool breeze of the night air. It was a grey, fluffy blanket, decorated with crowns. Phil could remember buying it for him shortly after Techno came to live with him. Techno had once called it his prized possession and had refused to take it with him to university, despite the comfort Phil knew it brought him - he insisted that he didn’t want the blanket to come to any harm, that it was safest for it to remain at home.
Tommy had gone out the night before Techno and Wilbur left for university and bought a cheap plastic crown for him from a costume store as a replacement. Techno had teased him about it endlessly, but Phil knew that the crown was kept safe on Techno’s desk at his university accommodation, right next to a photo of the five of them at a themepark.
In his hands, which were rough and calloused from years of self defence - both learning and teaching - was an ancient-looking book of Greek Mythology. Beside him on the bench was a large mug, now empty, but Phil knew just from knowing Techno, that it had been full of hot chocolate.
“Just wasn’t expecting anyone to be up,” Technoblade said.
“Was just getting some water,” Phil explained, holding up his glass. “Everything alright, mate?”
“Yeah! Yeah,” the response was rushed and Techno’s cheeks were tinted with pink, his gaze dropped down to the pages of his book and Phil knew that he was lying. His son cleared his throat, forcing his head back up to meet Phil’s eyes, plastering yet another fake smile onto his face. “Just couldn’t sleep is all.”
“Right well… you had a nap earlier, right?” Phil asked, sitting himself beside Techno on the bench. His son didn’t hesitate before shifting his blanket to allow Phil to share it with him.
“Wha-oh, yeah I did,” he nodded. Phil had to admit that it was still a surprise to him, just how bad of a liar Technoblade was.
“Maybe that’s why, then?”
“Yeah, probably,” Techno agreed, looking back at his book.
Silence fell over them for a moment and Phil shivered as a gust of wind blew through him.
“You want my jumper?” Techno asked but Phil shook his head.
“I’ll head back to bed in a little,” he dismissed, raising his free hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. “You looking forward to seeing everyone again?”
Techno’s grip tightened around his book. An action that was so miniscule that it probably would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Phil knew his son, he always picked up on those things.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun - apparently Dream’s already planning our next competition,” Phil laughed at Techno’s words, shaking his head.
“You two have always been so competitive.”
Technoblade chuckled, face showing a wry - but genuine - smile.
“Well we were the best in our classes. We couldn’t be competitive with anyone else, could we?”
“Is the whole gang going?” Phil asked, grinning at the way Techno’s nose wrinkled up at his word choice.
“Don’t call us a gang,” he complained. “But yeah - I think basically everyone’s going. Will was saying that, at least.”
“You should invite some of them over - have a barbecue or something while the weather’s getting better,” Phil suggested, testing the waters. Sure enough, Techno’s smile dropped from his face and his shoulders tensed up.
“Yeah… I don’t know… I’m not sure when everyone’s getting back, you know?”
“Well…” Phil gave him an encouraging smile, mind flashing back to years ago in Techno’s childhood. “The option’s there.”
“Yeah - thanks.”
Silence fell again and Phil swallowed thickly, preparing himself for what he was about to ask.
“Is something wrong, mate? You’ve seemed… off.”
Techno looked over at him, his eyes tracing over Phil’s face, scrutinising him with a frown, jaw clenched. At last he shook his head, breaking eye contact with his father.
“I’m fine,” he said, not even bothering to feign a smile this time. “I promise.”
Techno was not fine.
Any doubts that Phil may have had about that were dismissed the very next day when Tubbo and Ranboo came over, ready to go out and get ice creams with Wilbur and Tommy.
Techno had been quiet all morning. He helped him and Kristinmaking breakfast and laughed along when Tommy sang along and Wilbur DJ’d the music in the kitchen. He humoured Tommy by playing some games of Mario Kart with him - even allowing his younger brother to win a few. Then he had indulged Wilbur, listening to him workshop a new song for a couple of hours before he had settled himself in his favourite armchair with his blanket and began reading his book.
Through all that time, though, he had been quiet - far quieter than Phil was used to. Of course, he knew that Techno had always been the quietest of his sons - not that that was particularly difficult considering Wilbur and Tommy. But Techno loved bantering with all of them. Making teasing jabs at Wilbur, insulting Tommy to try and rile him up.
His relative silence and passive personality was strange and more than slightly worrying for Phil to observe.
Upon the invasion of Tubbo and Ranboo, though, Techno looked at his wits end. The longer that the boys chatted to him, the faker Techno’s smile became. As much as he was trying to laugh along with them, the sound was strained and Phil knew that he was searching for an out.
Wilbur had picked up on it too - they weren’t actually twins by blood, but Phil had always referred to them as such because they were always so in tune with each other. They were also practically inseparable growing up - it was a trait that had somewhat continued into their adult lives, with them choosing to go to the same university and even moving into an apartment together.
Phil noticed how Wilbur tilted his head at Techno, silently offering him a way out of the room. Techno nodded with a grateful smile, muttering something about needing to go to the bathroom before practically sprinting out.
“I’m just gonna get some water, boys,” Phil said, standing up. He caught Kristen’s eye and saw the knowing expression on her face but chose to ignore it, walking through into the hallway, desperate to find his sons.
“I’m okay, Wil,” he overheard Techno saying behind the kitchen door. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Tech…”
“I’m fine,” Techno repeated more forcefully. “It’s just… loud, you know?”
“I do know,” Wilbur agreed. “It’d be easier if-”
“No.”
“Techno-”
“I said no, Wilbur!”
Wilbur didn’t say anything and for just a moment, Phil was left in the dark about what exactly was going on. Then he heard sniffles and his eyes widened, his heart breaking.
“It’s okay.”
Phil hadn’t seen or heard Techno cry since he turned a teenager. So to hear Wilbur comforting him was a complete shock and Phil had to clench his hands into fists in order to stop himself from barging in there and comforting his son.
“I’m sorry,” Techno’s voice was choked up, the words barely understandable.
“You don’t have to be sorry - it’s okay, Techno.”
“I’m sorry I’m so fucked,” Techno said, taking no notice of Wilbur’s words.
“You’re not fucked up,” Wilbur said.
“It’s all too much, Wil,” his voice was muffled this time when he spoke and Phil could picture the scene behind the door - Wilbur embracing his brother, holding him as tight as he could, as if he could mend all the pieces that Techno thought were broken.
“I know - look, you just go upstairs, okay? Don’t worry about Tommy and the others, me you and the Gremlin can get ice cream some other time, just the three of us, yeah? You go upstairs and… watch Bake Off reruns or something.”
“I can’t-”
“Yeah you can,” Wilbur sighed.
“Tommy will-”
“He’ll be disappointed for all of the five minute walk to the ice cream place and then get distracted the moment we go inside. You know what he’s like. I’ll tell them that you’ve got work to do or something, okay?”
Silence again and then a quiet, meak:
“Okay.”
Phil tiptoed away from the door, a concoction of guilt and concern in his stomach as he thought over the conversation he had overheard. He had known that Techno was hiding something from them, that something was wrong. It hurt him, the idea that his son didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about those kinds of things anymore.
“Everything okay?” Kristinasked quietly when Phil took his seat beside her again.
“No,” he sighed, looking over at her, not bothering to even try to hide his concerned expression. “Overheard him and Will talking - something’s going on with Techno, I just… don’t know what.”
“Maybe just try to talk to him?” Kristinsuggested unsurely, her own brow creasing in concern.
“I tried last night - he just insisted that everything was fine. You know what he’s like.” Phil let out a long sigh. “I hate knowing that he’s upset about something. Reminds me of when they were kids.”
“You’re a good Dad, Phil,” Kristintold him, knowing exactly where Phil’s mind had gone.
“I know - I know, I mean look at how they all turned out, right?” Kristinnodded her head, an affectionate smile tugging at her lips. “So I can’t’ve been bad . But…”
“I know, Phil,” Kristinsoothed. “Just find a good time and try to talk to him. He loves you - whatever he’s keeping from you, he’s probably only doing it because he doesn’t want you to worry or something. It’s what Techno does .”
That was, indeed, exactly what Techno had always done. When he was sixteen and first started dying his hair pink, he hadn’t told Phil about the kids who had started picking on him and Phil had later found out that he had made Wilbur promise not to say a word of it. Instead, he had found out from Dream, who had come over for the first time without an invite, wanting to speak with Phil because he was concerned for his friend.
Techno hadn’t spoken to Dream for an entire month after that, but Phil and Wilbur both appreciated his intervention more than they could ever say.
And then once Techno had gotten lost somewhere, but he hadn’t wanted to worry his family and so had wandered around aimlessly, too shy to ask people for directions, and ended up texting Phil to say that he’d be home late and not to wait up. The only reason that Phil knew that he had been lost trying to find his way home in the first place was because Tommy had been secretly practicing Mario Kart that night and heard Techno come in.
So yes, it was Techno’s instinct to try to keep his troubles to himself. So what was truly worrying about the situation was that it seemed as though he had willingly told Wilbur what was going on, which meant it was likely something serious.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll just… wait for the right time.”
As it turned out, the ‘right time’ came a lot sooner than Phil expected.
But when one accidentally stumbles across their son sobbing in front of the bathroom mirror, having clearly forgotten to shut the door behind him, there’s little a father can do but comfort said son.
Which was how Phil had ended up sitting on the cold, hard tiles of the family bathroom, his back pressed uncomfortably against the towel rail, his arse going numb and his arms aching from how tightly he was holding Techno to his chest.
In that moment, though, Phil couldn’t care less about his comfort. All that he cared about was trying to calm Techno down from the shakiness that came after a panic attack. Techno’s panic attacks were, unfortunately, something that Phil knew a lot about. He was a master in coaching Techno through them, and calming down the shakes in the aftermath.
Techno was, by no means, a physical person. He tended to avoid hugs as much as possible (he’d never admit it aloud but Tommy was the singular exception there) and got awkward if he so much as brushed hands with another person. During his panic attacks, this aversion to touch became a million times worse and if anyone tried to touch him during one it usually just sent him spiralling even further.
But after an attack, he craved affection, he needed to be held, to know that he was loved. And that was something that Phil was always happy to provide.
He ran his hands through Techno’s messy hair, trying to soothe him with gentle words and a hand pressed against his heart to ground Techno as much as possible. He was still shuddering, still letting out sobs every now and then, but he was far calmer than before.
“I’m so sorry,” he croaked out at last.
“What’re you sorry for?” Phil couldn’t help but laugh a little at the absurdity of Techno’s question.
“Do you ever regret it?” Techno asked after a long pause.
“Regret what?” Phil’s brow furrowed in confusion, frowning down at his son.
“Picking me…” his voice was smaller than Phil had ever heard it before. More than ever Phil wished in that moment that he could click his fingers and make everything perfect - make it all stop hurting for Techno.
“Of course I don’t.”
“I’m so messed up, though,” he whispered.
“You’re my son, Techno,” Phil emphasised. “I love you - always. No matter what. That’s what being a father is,” he hugged his son even tighter, tears pricking his own eyes and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.
“Why did you keep me?” Techno whimpered. “Why was I the kid you wanted? Why couldn’t you’ve chosen one of the others - one of the normal ones?”
“I thought we were past this, mate,” Phil sighed, remembering the years of pain that they had all been through, battling Techno’s mind. “I love you, okay? That’s the end of it.”
“I shouldn’t made you think I would be a good son. That was my fault. I should’ve… been honest, should’ve made you realise that you deserve better.”
“That’s not true, Techno,” Phil said, not bothering to try to keep his tears back anymore, allowing them to pour down his cheeks. “You’re my son. I wouldn’t change anything about you - ever. This is what I signed up for with fatherhood, okay? Loving you unconditionally, through all of the shit that your mind’s telling you. I thought you knew that.”
“I’m sorry,” Techno said again, curling up even smaller, burying his head into the soft flesh of Phil’s stomach instead.
“You don’t need to be sorry, Techno - just… talk to me, please! I want to help you, I want to support you and I can’t do that if… if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Disa- that’s ridiculous. I’m so, so proud of you, and how far you’ve come.”
Techno pulled away at that, looking at Phil with glassy eyes and he looked smaller than he ever had before. Wordlessly he held out his hands towards Phil, palms up to the ceiling displaying his wrists.
Phil couldn’t help the quiet gasp that left his lips.
“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Phil.”
Phil didn’t know what to say. As he tried to gather his thoughts, he took a gentle hold of Techno’s right hand and allowed his fingers to trace the now-fading scars.
“When was this?”
“I relapsed a few months ago,” Techno admitted, leaning his head back against the wall. “Will… caught it pretty early. Convinced me to find help again before it got out of control again.”
Phil forced himself to stop reliving the painful memories of that period of Techno’s life.
“I’m glad you did get help,” Phil said. “And I’m so sorry that you didn’t think you could tell me about it.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you again,” Techno admitted, pulling his arms back and wrapping them protectively around himself. “Sometimes I just feel like… I’m never going to get past those mistakes I made when I was younger, you know? Like I’ve never grown past who I was then?” He said uncertainly.
“You are one of the strongest people I know, Techno. And I’m so proud of you, okay? Always. And you can always talk to me about this stuff, I promise you.”
Techno was staring at the ground, but he gave a slight nod of his head.
“Has your anxiety been back as well?” Phil forced himself to ask.
“Yeah,” Techno admitted shakily. “I’m on meds again, though - they upped my dosage just before we left here. It’s why I’ve been… sleeping so bad and been getting headaches again and just… overwhelmed.”
Phil could remember well what it had been like for Techno when he had first been put on medication. The sleepless nights and constant headaches. How exhausted and numb Techno would admit to feeling all the time.
“You’ll get through this, though - you know that?”
“Yeah,” Techno sighed and offered him a wobbly smile, tears still falling down his cheeks. “It just doesn’t always feel like I will.”
“Have you still got your necklace?” Phil asked after a moment.
His heart lifted at the wide, wide smile that overtook Techno’s features.
“You just say the word and we’ll get out of there, okay?” Wilbur was saying as the three of them walked up to the entrance to their old school.
“I know, Will,” Techno chuckled, trying to force down the anxiety that was already building in his stomach.
“I’ve got your emergencys, boss man,” Tommy reminded him and Techno smiled at his younger brother, grateful for his presence.
Tommy hadn’t wanted to leave Techno’s side at all since Techno had told him and Kristinwhat had been going on. Everywhere that Techno had gone, Tommy had tagged along - it was something that Techno actually very much appreciated as Tommy was far better at remembering his emergency kit than he was.
“Thanks - I’ll probably be okay, though.”
“You sure?” Wilbur asked, stopping in front of the closed doors to the sports hall, where Techno could hear the music already blaring for the reunion, even though the hall itself was still relatively empty of old students.
Techno raised a hand, fingers clasping around the string and bead necklace he was wearing.
It was a tradition started by Tommy, the first time that Phil had found out about Techno’s self harm. At the time, Tommy was too young to fully understand what was happening exactly. All that he knew was that most weeks one day Phil would come home with a congratulations treat for Techno and every week that that happened, it never failed to make his older brother incredibly emotional. And on the weeks that he didn’t get a congratulations, Techno looked sad and Tommy didn’t like his brother being sad.
Wilbur had tried to explain it to him - that Techno had a bad habit that they were trying to break. So every week that he went without performing that bad habit it was something worth congratulating, because it was hard to give up, but it was what was best for him.
It was then that the necklace started. Every week Tommy would go to the corner store on his way home from school and pick up a bead that he thought was nice - it was pink at first, because he knew it was Techno’s favourite colour. Then he would give the bead to Techno, who would thread it onto a necklace made of string to remind him that he was much stronger than he thought.
Techno would never in a million years admit it, but the first day that his younger brother had come home with the start of a beaded necklace was the first time that he had ever cried tears of joy.
“Yeah - I’m gonna be fine. I mean, I’ve got you guys, right?”