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When Tommy was little, he cried a lot. It used to drive the household insane. They would try everything - toys, sweets, begs, pleads - but nothing would quiet him down.
He was a clingy baby too, often latching on to Phil or Wilbur when he was excited or happy. When he was truly distressed though, he would whine for Techno. Only Techno could get the child to calm down when he was particularly distressed. At first Techno thought it a burden, and then it was just the way of life, neither cumbersome nor enjoyable, just something he was used to doing.
Until he didn’t anymore. Until he had left, war in his head and voices in his ears. When he returned, Tommy wasn’t there, and when he saw him again, Tommy wasn't little anymore. All the things that made him soft and forever little in Techno’s eyes weren’t gone, just rather subdued now. He’d never toughened up fully, but he wasn’t that soft little boy anymore who’s favourite place was in the arms of the people he loved.
Tommy’s definitely not so little now.
He finds him at the crater. Techno must remark that despite the tragedy and pain this place may hold for some, it did decay beautifully. From tragedy comes beauty, Techno muses.
“I’m afraid there’s not much victory to be celebrated anymore,” Tommy says. “Nature has reclaimed your battlefield.”
“That implies there was a battle. I think massacre is more accurate,” Techno quips back. Tommy just lets out a huff but doesn’t dignify him with a response. He’s standing casually so Techno doesn’t think there'll be a fight. No armour or weapons, just his usually light brown khakis with a million patches to cover up what are probably rips and holes and a white shirt. The blue cardigan is new, the left flap covered in different badges and stickers. “What? No sarcastic quip back? No fuck you’s thrown in for flare.”
“Fuck you,” he says but there’s no heat behind it. There’s nothing behind it. They are just sounds. “I try not to get into fights I know I’ll lose.”
“How out of character,” Techno says, moving to stand beside him but not looking at him.
“Try not to die of shock.”
“Why come back here?”
“Where else could I go?”
“I don't know. Snowchester, Las Nevadas, wherever Wilbur is?”
“What, that’s your checklist for places to destroy next?”
“That depends on them, and not me.”
“Okay Techno you keep telling yourself that.”
“Hey, L'Manburg-”
“I don’t care, Techno. I’m sorry but I don’t,” Tommy says. “What does it matter? You got your revenge, your justice. Why carry it around with you.”
“You swallow a psychology book or something?” Techno asks, turning to look at Tommy. He’s thinner and paler than Techno remembers but he doesn’t care (he can’t tell if he cares or not about the fact that he doesn’t care).
“No, but getting therapy actually does help, believe it or not,” Tommy says with a chuckle.
“You go to therapy?”
“Techno I have tried to kill myself. Multiple times. Of course I go to therapy,” Tommy says, finally meeting his gaze and something about the uncaring tone in Tommy’s voice as he speaks makes Techno tense. “Please, don’t tell me you didn’t know. I know you’re bad with emotions but you’re not blind.” Techno doesn’t say anything and Tommy pauses. “Wow, you are that blind. That's… well that's actually not surprising, considering how distant you were in Pogtopia.”
“Why is that important?”
“... Because Wilbur killed himself?”
“No, Phil killed Wilbur.”
“Yeah, because Wilbur asked him to. Because the blast didn’t kill Wilbur and he was too much of a coward to live or die by his own hands so instead he had Phil do it. That was like… his whole thing. The whole point of the 16th.” Techno supposes there were signs, probably, but Techno’s also not a doctor. He’s not someone who knows how to handle this. Also… it wasn’t his responsibility to fix Wilbur. It’s not like he could if he tried. “Why are you here Techno?”
“Came to find Ranboo or Niki.”
“First time since you got out of the prison?” Techno blinks.
“You knew?”
“Heard Big Q and Sam talking about it. It does suck that happened to you, that prison isn’t a nice place.”
“I forgot that you would know.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Why are you here?” Tommy shrugs.
“It's quiet here.” He looks back down at the crater. “Nothing here but ghosts, and the dead can’t tell secrets.”
“And here you call me dramatic.”
“What can I say, Big Brother Blade Syndrome is infectious.”
“That's not the whole reason, is it?”
“If you were this attentive during exile, maybe things would’ve worked out differently,” Tommy jokes. “But alas you were not and I wasn’t either so now we’re here.”
“Here being.”
“You could call this a cliff, if you want to be poetic.” Techno wants to pretend he doesn’t know what that means but considering this is his metaphor. “I’m not particularly in the mood for poetry however. I’d rather write my own ending”
“Why bring it up?” Tommy shrugs.
“I’m tired.”
“Then sleep.”
“Closing my eyes is like setting up a personal cinema that just plays all my worst days on repeat, so I’d rather just pass out from exhaustion.” Techno should say that's not healthy but then he’d be a hypocrite.
“So you come to the crater of the place you sacrificed everything for and got little in return for the ghosts?”
“Partially. Sometimes I come because it’s quite pretty. Who would’ve thought this is what L’Manburg would become when we were building the walls,” Tommy said and there’s a sad sort of smile on his face that doesn’t reach his voice.
“You don’t sound like you miss it.”
“I don’t. Missing it won’t bring it back. Won’t gloss over the fact that I was hurt by it, or that I hurt people because of it.”
“So you agree with us?”
“I couldn’t agree with Dream ever, but I don’t disagree with you. You were hurt by L’Manburg, L’Manburg was hurt by you. It's a never ending cycle here, I suppose. You get hurt so you hurt,” Tommy says, shrugging again.
“Are you? Hurt, I mean?”
“Would I be standing this close to the cliff edge if I wasn’t? Would I be standing next to the cliff edge at all if I wasn’t.”
“You said this wasn’t a cliff.”
“No, I said I didn’t want to be poetic, that doesn’t mean I suddenly turn blind.”
“So why stand on the cliff’s edge?”
“Because you’re going to break Dream out of prison.” It's not a question, it's a statement. “And he’s going to use my friends against me, or me against my friends. Or he’ll reunite with all the people he burned and fit back into his role as the puppeteer.”
“And if he’s changed?” A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes appears on Tommy’s face.
“Yeah, and Wilbur’s changed too.” Tommy chuckles at his own joke. “For someone so concerned with truth, you really do kid yourself a lot.”
“Or maybe you don’t have all the pieces.”
“Maybe, but neither do you.” There’s silence between them.
“You were going to jump.”
“Fall, really. I could make it look like an accident. That I was overtaken by grief I mis-stepped off.”
“Would we have believed you?”
“Does it matter? I’d be dead. You’d probably laugh again, call me Theseus. Phil would scold you but hide his laughter. Niki and Jack might be sad they didn’t push me. Tubbo and Ranboo would call bullshit but I’ve already worn Tubbo’s tolerance of me down and Ranboo’s got people to turn to now. They’d be fine,” Tommy says.
“So you’ve thought about it?”
“I’m literally at the edge.”
“And you’d let Dream win?”
“There’s no winning. If I die, he wins, if I live, he wins. At this stage I might as well be selfish.” Techno can’t deny the logic but there’s something inside him that reminds him that this situation isn’t about logic, it's about Tommy. His little brother Tommy.
“When you were little you used to hate water fountains.” This takes Tommy off guard. “They were too loud and you were a sensitive child. Cried for hours over everything.” Tommy doesn’t say anything, his facial expression open and easy to read. “Clingy too. Always climbing up to Phil and Wilbur even though you would giggle and squirm the entire time.”
“What does this-”
“You’d come to me if we were sad though. I used to think it would because you were scared and wanted a protector. I realise now you just wanted a hug and I ran the warmest.”
“Are you… are you seriously trying to talk me down by using our fucked up family and memories right now?”
“Is it working?” There’s silence and Techno notes that Tommy’s taken a step closer to him. “Wilbur used to cuddle you and tired you out then dump you on me when you got cranky. Claimed it was because I was better at handling you but I think he was jealous you liked me better.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tommy says but there’s no venom, just humour laced with something that makes Techno soften slightly.
“You were small and cranky but always came to me when you needed to feel safe,” Techno says.
“And then you left.”
“And then I left,” Techno confirms. “And by the time I came back, we were barely brothers, just three people working together. Then, during exile, we tried but we both hurt each other.”
“I’m tired, Techno.”
“I know Tommy.”
“And I’m angry. At you, at Phil, at Wilbur, Dream, you-”
“You said me twice,” Techno points out.
“I’m twice mad at you.”
“That makes no sense.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “But so am I. Mad at you, I mean. You kind of left me in the community house.”
“You kind of lied to me and offered me up to Dream.”
“Good to know neither of us can hold a grudge.” Tommy snorts at that. “There’s no one culprit in the breakdown of our relationship.”
“We both hurt each other,” Tommy confirms. “We could always just blame it on Wilbur,” Tommy jokes and Techno smiles.
“That's true, we could.”
“A trip down memory lane doesn’t change the fact that I’m tired, Techno. Bone deep kind of tired,” Tommy says.
“One conversation won’t fix that.”
“Now who swallowed a psychology book?” Tommy asks, eyebrow raised. “Why are you talking me down? You laughed when I died.”
“Cause I was angry then, I’m not angry now.”
“What are you now?” Tommy asks.
“Tired.”
“Wow, we’re like brothers.” Techno can feel Tommy’s shoulder brush his. They remain in silence for a while. Tommy’s not at the edge and Techno is admiring the beauty. He supposes that this what the L’Manburg founders like to think would happen to their home. A country built on peace, died in battle and then reclaimed by nature. Techno supposes it is poetic.
“Does the exhaustion ever go away?” Tommy asks, breaking the silence.
“No, but you find places to put it, to share it until it stops weighing you down.”
“You still run warm,” Tommy says, not moving but his hand drops beside Techno’s and he links their pinky fingers.
“And you still have a place to go when you need comfort.”
“I’m still mad at you,” Tommy says, yawning as he looks at Techno.
“And I’m still mad at you,” Techno agrees.
“So we figure it out? Try again?”
“It's what brothers do.” Tommy smiles but doesn’t say anything else, so Techno doesn’t either.