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The wind whipped harshly on Tommy's face, and he fell hard to his knees to the graveyard soil. It was sunny. Cars drove by in the distance, the humming of their motors only barely heard over Tommy’s own breathing.
He held a hand out and touched the smooth stone, running his fingers down the gravestone.
It was the fifth anniversary since her death.
“Hi mom,” Tommy whispered, placing the flowers he had brought down next to him. “I’ve missed you.” Tommy hugged his arms around himself. He was alone in the cemetery, per usual, but he had hoped despite himself that someone else might show up. After all, it had been half a decade since her death. Couldn’t that be enough for them to finally appear?
“I uh--I got into college,” Tommy said, drumming his fingers against his knee. “It’s nice there. I met some good people.” Tommy inhaled. “There’s this guy named Tubbo,” Tommy said, his voice cracking slightly. “I think you’d like him mom. I really do.”
Some nights, Tommy would lay on the bed in his dorm room and think. The bed was short, and his feet only barely fit on the mattress. The worst part about losing someone , Tommy thought, wasn’t exactly that they left--but that they weren’t there anymore . When Tommy had gotten straight A’s all semester, she hadn’t been there to put her arm around him. When Tommy was all alone, unable to move or even get out of bed, she wasn’t there to sit patiently by his side. When Tommy had gotten into college, despite Technoblade’s expectations, she hadn’t been there to tell him that she was proud.
No, she was gone. She was gone, and she wasn’t coming back, and she had taken Tommy’s hopes of having a loving family with her.
It had been difficult after she left. Phil and Wilbur and Technoblade and him--four people without anyone to bind them together, four people who used to love each other, four people that used to be family--shattered.
Phil had pulled away. He didn’t talk much after her death. Tommy watched the man he used to call his father float through the days, only a shadow of the great man he had once been.
Wilbur had been nineteen at the time, so he was gone the moment the funeral ended. He found a fancy college and earned himself a scholarship, then shipped himself off to California the moment he was given the go-ahead. Tommy hadn’t heard from his brother in over a year, after the fiasco last Christmas.
And then there was Technoblade. For a while, it had been only Tommy and Techno against the world. Techno helped Tommy when Tommy was lost to himself, when Tommy couldn’t hear or move or do anything but think about how their mother was gone, and dead, and wasn’t coming back. And Tommy had helped Technoblade when he got into more and more fights, taping plasters over his cuts and promising not to tell Phil. It had been the two of them, a pair, a duo to take on whatever enemy came at them.
Then Technoblade left, and Tommy was left wondering what it all had meant.
Techno left on a Tuesday. Tommy knew this, he knew the date by heart, he could tell you the exact weather and how the ice cream truck’s music played in the background like some sort of haunting melody. It was three years after his mother’s death to the day, and Techno had left, and Tommy was alone.
The worst part was, it wasn’t a big thing. There was a note left on the counter, sure, and Techno’s stuff was gone from their shared bedroom, but Techno’s bed was made like it always was, and Technoblade’s cologne that he swore he didn’t use was still in the bathroom and--and Techno was gone, and Tommy was alone once again.
It had been difficult. Tommy had only been fifteen, but he threw himself into his studies. Anything to get out of that small town that held constant reminders of who used to live in it.
“I miss them mom,” Tommy said, twirling a piece of grass in his hand, the headstone still cool against his palm. “I know I shouldn’t. They left me after all, they don’t want me around, but I--” Tommy signed. He took a breath in, trying to prevent the tears forming in his eyes from rolling down his cheeks. “Why didn’t they want me?”
Tommy hugged his knees, and he swore he could feel his mother’s arms around him.
“I don’t like being alone,” Tommy mumbled. He knew his mother likely couldn’t hear him, but it didn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I just wanted a family, and--”
“Theseus?” A voice from behind him.
Tommy spun around at lightning speed, and couldn’t believe who he saw. “ Technoblade?” Tommy asked, incredulous.
It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t, but Technoblade was standing at the gate of the cemetery, somehow both so different and so similar from all those years ago. He wore a long tan coat, even in the warm weather, and he was wearing his glasses instead of contacts. Pink hair was still long and left down. Shimmery earrings were still attached from his ears. Tommy couldn’t breathe.
He raised a hand to his cheeks, frantically wiping at the tears that were drying on his cheeks. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s been five years, hasn’t it?”
Tommy smiled softly, but the expression was full of venom. “So that’s what it takes.”
Technoblade cocked his head slightly to the left, a question.
“I don’t want you here.”
“That’s not your choice.”
“I wrote to you, y’know. After you left, two whole years ago.” Tommy laughed, but there was no humor in it. “After you left me. I screamed to Phil about it, hell I even called Wilbur to see if he knew where you went. The only reason I didn’t call the goddamn police was because of that note you left on the fridge.”
“Let’s not do this here,” Technoblade said, looking around at the gravestones that surrounded them both.
Tommy wanted to scoff. “Well, c’mon then. You came to pay your respects, pay them, then leave. ” He stood up, waiting for the other man to leave.
“Theseus,” Technoblade repeated, and it sounded almost like a plea.
“What?” Tommy snapped, keeping his eyes pointed away from Techno’s.
“You can’t just avoid this.”
“Watch me.”
Technoblade sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation. “Come to my place, we’ll talk.”
Tommy sat back down next to the headstone, braiding the dandelions growing in front of it into a little crown. Techno and him used to make flower crowns. Wilbur too. They would sit under the willow tree next to their house, leaning against the rough bark and spending hours just sitting together, weaving flowers into a circle. Tommy misses those days.
“I don’t want to talk to you, bitch,” Tommy said, attempting to keep his tone neutral, but his voice cracked.
Technoblade took a step towards Tommy, but Tommy scrambled back.
“Don’t touch me,” Tommy said, glaring up at the man he barely recognized. “You left. You shouldn’t be here.”
“She wasn’t only your mother Theseus.”
“Well maybe she shouldn’t have been. Then you wouldn’t be stuck with a fuck-up like me as a brother.”
Techno grunted a noise that Tommy couldn’t quite decipher the meaning of. “That’s not--you’re not--”
“Shut up, Technoblade. I got better. I got better, and I got over you, so why are you back here? Just to fuck with me or some shit?”
“I’m back here because I’m better.”
Tommy scoffed. “What, you’re just rubbing it in more? Well fuck you. I improved, I went to college even though you said I couldn’t, I found friends and got out of this hellhole.”
“That’s not what I meant Tommy. I meant I improved. Mentally?”
“Mentally?” Tommy sneered. “You were fine, better than me. Don’t create problems just to stop feeling guilty about doing shitty things”
Technoblade sighed once again. “I can explain. Just come back to my house Tommy, we can talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Tommy looked down at the gravestone that marked the death of his childhood; pain and nostalgia somehow both apparent in his voice. “You left me. You didn’t come back. I get it, I guess. I know I’m annoying to be around, it was only a matter of time before you got fed up.”
Techno placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. His hand was warm, burning through Tommy’s puffy jacket. The touch was soft and familiar. Tommy’s heart ached. Not for the first time, he wondered how things would have been different if Techno stayed. How odd, he thought. We’d been family once.
The only person who had made them family lay in the ground, lost to oblivion.
“I miss her,” Tommy finally said. “I miss her so fucking much.”
“I know Theseus,” Techno rubbed a circle into Tommy’s neck with his thumb.
“I missed you too,” Tommy said, and he was embarrassed to realize his voice was quivering. “I needed you.”
“I know,” Techno said, an admittance and apology rolled into one.
Tears began to roll down Tommy’s face, no longer held back by his stubbornness. “I don’t like being alone,” Tommy whispered, a confession.
“I know,” Techno said. The same two words, over and over, yet they meant the world to Tommy.
Technoblade placed a hand on the gravestone, bending down to reach. He grabbed the flower crown Tommy had been making and closed it. He placed it on Tommy’s head. Tommy let him.
“Let’s go home,” Techno said, and this time Tommy didn’t argue.
-----
The drive was spent in silence. Tommy watched the houses flitter by, each one a painful reminder of his childhood. The house they arrived at was not Phil’s.
Phil’s house, the one they had all grown up with, was tall, three stories. They had been foster kids, scared and flighty, and Phil had wanted to give them all space.
It had gone well at first. None of them hit Tommy, or starved him, or ignored him altogether (at least at first). It was a win in his book. And he didn’t care if it meant putting up with standoffish Technoblade, or chaotic Wilbur, or overworked Phil, because it meant he could spend time with Kristen.
Kristen was kind. Kind in a way that no one had ever been to Tommy, with soft hands cupping his face and words of affirmation whispered in his ear as she rocked him while he cried. Those two years with her had been the best of Tommy’s life. They had laughed together, loved together, and been family together.
And then Kristen had gotten sick.
It was a slow thing. At first, she was supposed to beat it. At first, she was supposed to get better. But then she was kept up all night coughing, dark circles constantly under her eyes. But then she couldn’t hold Tommy tight anymore.
The adoption process for Tommy was still in the works at the time. Kristen had fought tooth and nail to get Tommy, even as she withered away. After, when she could no longer fight and the agency threatened to pull Tommy away from the grief, Phil held his ground. It took over a month, but then Tommy was officially a part of the family, and then Tommy was forgotten, Kristen’s last wish fulfilled.
In the end, she didn’t get better--instead, her grip on the world loosened, and she fell from the mortal realm, an angel whose wings were never strong enough to carry her.
Tommy liked to believe she was happy now. He used to want to join her, when he was younger. Still now sometimes, when the lights were too dark and his room was too empty. The touch of a mother was something that was worth more than gold, and Tommy would do anything to feel it again.
But this wasn’t Kristen’s house. No, this wasn’t the house Tommy had lived and laughed and cried in. This was a little unassuming brown house, the driveway empty.
Technoblade pulled in, parked the car.
“The fuck is this place?” Tommy asked, pushing the car door open.
“My house,” Technoblade said. He grabbed the keys from the car.
His house? Tommy wondered if he had heard correctly. Tommy followed Techno through the door to the house, trying to keep himself very small. He was starting to regret agreeing to come there. The walls seemed to close in on him, trapping him.
“Sit.” Technoblade said, pointing towards a couch that was pushed against a grey wall.
Tommy obeyed, albeit reluctantly. “So...” he trailed off as Technoblade walked out of the room. “Hey bitch! Where are you going?”
Technoblade didn’t respond.
Tommy huffed, pushing his legs up on top of the coffee table in front of him. He looked around the room, surveying every detail.
Technoblade’s house didn’t have a television. In all honesty, Tommy wasn’t surprised. Techno hadn’t spent much time doing such ‘frivolous activities’ like watching tv. Instead, he had read, and fenced, and only just barely held the family together immediately following Kristen’s death.
Books lay stacked up in the corners, papers scattered all over, pens and pencils laying haphazardly on the desk on the left side of the room. It was organized chaos, bright but monotone, all too familiar. Most of all, the room screamed Technoblade.
Speaking of the man, Techno walked back into the room holding two mugs. He gave one to Tommy, and Tommy put it down.
“Coaster,” Techno reprimanded. “Why are your feet on my coffee table?”
“Because I want to, bitch,” Tommy said. “I’m sad. Be nice to me.”
“I don’t think I will be,” Technoblade said, but it was playful.
Tommy picked up the mug, sniffing it. It was hot chocolate, a single candy cane melting into the hot drink. Just like how Kristen used to make it when it all got too much. “So…” Tommy said, taking a sip and burning his tongue. He flailed a little bit, nearly spitting out the hot liquid, and Techno chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me bitch,” Tommy muttered.
“My house, my rules,” Technoblade said, and Tommy was reminded of his question from earlier.
“Your house?”
Techno leveled him with a stare. “Yes. My house.”
“You gonna...I don’t know, elaborate on that?” Tommy stressed each and every syllable in the word “elaborate.”
“I needed a house.” Techno said, and then he sighed something sad. “I didn’t exactly mean to leave,” and oh. They were going to talk about this now.
“Well, you did.” Perhaps it was petty, but Tommy couldn’t let it go. Technoblade had been his one anchor for so long, and when that was ripped away from him, Tommy could do nothing but float aimlessly in the waves.
“I did,” Technoblade agreed, nodding. “I did. But I didn’t mean to.”
“Explain,” Tommy said. He blew on his hot chocolate then took another sip.
Techno scratched the back of his head. “Well...I wasn’t doing so well.”
Tommy stayed silent, letting Techno tell his story.
“After Kristen died, and Wil left, and Phil shut down, it was just me and you. And I--I cared for you, I did. But I wasn’t ready.”
“Ready for what?” Tommy questioned when Techno didn’t continue.
“To take care of a child,” Technoblade said. “Kids aren’t my forte if you couldn’t tell.”
Tommy snorted into his cup, and Technoblade leveled him a judging look.
“I just--you weren’t too much Tommy. I promise. The town just felt suffocating. Everyone looked at us. Everyone knew. They offered their condolences, but they knew, everytime we walked by them.”
“I get that,” Tommy said, downing the last of his hot chocolate. “I do, I just--why didn’t you bring me with you?” Tears burned at his eyes once again.
“Oh, Theseus, ” Technoblade said, and Tommy dove into his chest.
It had been a long time since he had been held. Too long perhaps. It wasn’t like it was something Tommy should complain about--he was a big man after all, he didn’t need hugs or any of that shit--but Tubbo didn’t like touch, and every hug reminded him of the people he had lost, and perhaps Tommy just needed to be held again.
“Let it out,” Techno said, rubbing a hand up and down Tommy’s back. “We’ll be okay.”
Tommy heard the “we” and wanted to cry. He wasn’t being left behind again. He was enough, for once. “I just wanted someone to love me,” Tommy said, his words muffled into Techno’s chest. He shifted slightly, feeling Techno’s arms enclose him, but for the first time it didn’t feel suffocating.
“I know,” Techno said, moving a hand up to Tommy's hair. “I know.”
Tommy cried until he was empty and the tears dried on his face. He slowly pulled away from Technoblade, heat rising to his cheeks. “You didn’t see any of that.”
“I saw all of that.”
“No. You’re blind,” Tommy said, reaching up and taking off Techno’s glasses.
“That’s not how it works--”
“It works how I want it to. Quiet.” Tommy coughed. “Bu uh, thanks big man. I guess.”
“Of course Tommy.”
They sat in silence for a couple moments, Tommy fidgeting. Technoblade sipped, his hot chocolate still only half way drunk. “Can I braid your hair?” Tommy blurted out, almost immediately regretting it. “I--I just, well I--”
Technoblade shifted on the couch, pulling elastics off of his wrists. “Just don't pull it out,” he grunted.
Tommy squawked, and Techno laughed. Slowly, Tommy reached up to Techno’s hair, simply running his hand through it. He did it again, and again, until he was more so petting Techno’s hair than braiding it. Techno didn’t complain though. He simply sat there, sipping at his hot chocolate.
Tommy finally took half of his hair, split it into sections, brushing each out with his hands. “It’s been five years,” Tommy said, beginning to cross the sections.
Technoblade hummed as an acknowledgement.
“Two since you left.”
Techno hummed again.
Weaving the sections in and out, Tommy found comfort in the repetition. He used to do this all the time, late at night, after yet another nightmare.
His nightmares were always the same. Just Tommy, locked in a room, thousands of people walking by him. They never stopped or stared, even when Tommy screamed. No matter how hard he pounded on the glass, they never even turned to look. Most nights, Tommy would glimpse Phil and Wilbur in the crowd. Some nights, even Technoblade.
“Will you stay with me?” Tommy had asked all those nights ago, running into his big brother's room.
“Always, Theseus,” Techno had responded.
He had lied.
“She was the one that taught me to fence,” Techno said suddenly.
“Really?” Tommy laughed. It was hard to imagine Kristen with a sword, teaching young Techno how to swing and dodge.
“Yeah. She was good at it too.”
Tommy smiled. He wrapped the elastic around the first braid, then let it out again. It could be better.
“She taught me how to read,” Tommy said, embarrassment crawling up to his cheeks. “I mostly knew how to--I just got schooled oddly, foster system, you know, and--”
“I know, Theseus,” Techno said, and Tommy the corners of Tommy’s mouth turned up.
“Yeah. She was the best.”
“This hot chocolate recipe is from her,” Technoblade said, raising his mug.
“I know,” Tommy said, an odd feeling taking hold of his chest. “You even put the mini candy-cane in.”
Technoblade chuckled, a melancholy thing, full of remembrance and longing. Tommy snapped the elastic around one braid, then started another.
“She would do that thing, you know,” Tommy laughed slightly, “right after she woke up, where she’d go outside and drink her tea. And no one was allowed to disturb her, not even Phil.”
“She was watching the birds, I think,” Techno said. “She told me she always wanted to fly.”
A sob caught at the back of Tommy’s throat. “Right,” Tommy said. “Remember that one time we all went on a plane together? She was stressed, sure, but she was so excited. She had the window seat, and she stared out the window all night long.”
“And she gave me my first copy of poetry,” Techno said. His voice was wistful. “Everyone else just brushed me off, but Kristen? She cared.”
“She did,” Tommy said, tying another braid. “She did. Especially about us.” He tied off the last braid.
Techno turned, setting down his empty coffee mug. He pushed Tommy against his side, an arm wrapped around him. “I miss her too,” he said, running a hand through Tommy’s hair. Tommy pressed his head against Techno’s shoulder.
“She loved us,” Tommy said, nuzzling his head closer to Techno.
“She did.”
They sat there for a moment, pressed together. Techno ran his hand through Tommy’s hair, and it felt so similar to Kristen’s that Tommy wanted to cry. “Tech?” Tommy asked. The hand in his hair slowed.
“Yeah?”
“Why did Phil and Wilbur leave?”
Technoblade swallowed, and Tommy watched his throat bob. “I don’t know,” Techno finally said. “I don’t know.”
“Is it bad that I still miss them?” Tommy fidgeted, moving back and forth until Techno offered his hand. He took it gladly, pressing the skin back and forth, watching it bunch up then smooth out.
“No, it isn’t.”
“They’re not my family,” Tommy declared. Techno made a sound next to him, but Tommy didn’t look up. “They’re not.”
“Okay Theseus.”
“I just--” Tommy inhaled. “Why does everyone leave me? Is there something wrong with me, something fucked up that just drives everyone away?”
Technoblade was quiet for a moment. “No. No, it’s not you.”
Tommy willed the tears not to fall from his face. His eyes were already rimmed red, running dry. “Then why ?”
Techno shifted, placing his head on top of Tommy’s. “I don’t know, Theseus. I don’t know.”
“You left! You should know!”
“I’m not other people Tommy,” he whispered, pain coating his words. He nuzzled Tommy’s hair, trying to sooth him in any way he could.
“It’s not fair,” Tommy mumbled.
“It’s not.”
Tommy hummed, still fiddling with Technoblade’s hand. “I hope she’d be proud of me.”
Techno and Tommy had never quite agreed on the topic of death--Technoblade believed that once a person was dead, they were gone, remnants left only in their ashes that littered the earth. Tommy, on the other hand, liked to think that they were still watching over them.
Techno nudged Tommy slightly. “She is.”
“Yeah?” Tommy looked down at his battered converse, still muddy with soil from the cemetery.
“How could she not be?”
Tommy tucked his head into the corner of Techno’s neck. “I’m sleepy,” he whined. He heard a chuckle in response. Tommy shut his eyes, and he felt himself being carried up, then placed somewhere soft. The person near him made to move away. Tommy grabbed their arm. “Stay?” Tommy whispered.
Technoblade stopped in his tracks. “Of course, Theseus.” Techno stood up, turned off the lights, then settled down in the bed, pulling the comforters over them both. Tommy turned in towards him, tears drying on his cheeks.
And as Tommy drifted off, his brother still pressed up against him, he prayed that the promise would not be broken again.