Chapter Text
Philza Craft liked summer.
He thrived under the heat. The man grew up in a place with awful weather. He was not a fan of rain and harsh winds. He hated the dark clouds that covered up the bright star in the sky. Summer was the solution to that. Though it only lasted five months or less, it was the best time of the year for Phil.
Summer meant ice cream and sandy shores. Summer meant buying exotic fruits and learning new cooking recipes. Summer meant cool, blue beaches. Summer meant getting saltwater in one’s eyes. Summer meant intentionally tripping someone in the sand. Summer meant painful sunburns and long lectures about sunscreen.
Summer meant fun.
But Summer also meant long road trips with his sons. Summer meant falling asleep in ice baths. Summer meant going up the mountain and listening to the complaints of his youngest. Summer meant braiding his son’s hair into a proper bun. Summer meant getting a haircut with the rest of his family.
Summer meant making sure the plants in their garden were getting enough water. Summer meant flying to a different continent to visit his hometown. Summer meant game nights. Summer meant tears and youth camps. Summer meant waking up to cold water being thrown on you. Summer meant enthusiasm and impulsive decisions.
Summer meant family.
Wilbur Craft liked autumn.
The teen adored the warm-coloured trees that he passed on his way to school. He loved listening to the crunch of the leaves as he intentionally stepped on them. Wilbur often brought a leaf with him every time he walked home. He would then give the leaf to his youngest brother, and tell him that it was the most special leaf of them all.
As if icing on a cake, Techno and Wilbur’s birthday was in autumn as well. And that usually meant celebrating it in the park, amongst the tall red and golden-laced wood. Wilbur remembers asking for a camera for his special day to be able to capture the beauty of the falling leaves.
Autumn was the second shortest season, only lasting three months or more, but for the teen, it was the ever-perfect period.
Autumn meant pumpkin spice lattes with his friends. Autumn meant transitioning to thicker jackets and warmer sweaters. Autumn meant Instagram pictures and scented candles. Autumn meant bonfire nights and smores. Autumn meant singing at local pubs on the weekends. Autumn meant harvest festival fairs and food.
Autumn meant comfort.
And yet, Autumn also meant dressing up in stupid costumes with his brothers. Autumn meant checking their candy with Dad to make sure there weren’t needles and other “dangerous” shit. Autumn meant pumpkin-carving contests and losing every time. Autumn meant horror nights and scaring his siblings.
Autumn meant celebrating a holiday that isn’t even official in their country, just because it was part of his mother’s culture. Autumn meant harvesting the various crops that grew from the small garden in the backyard. Autumn meant pies and turkey. Autumn meant creating random songs with his siblings. Autumn meant coziness and warmth, despite the decreasing temperature.
Autumn meant family too.
Technoblade Craft liked winter.
The pinkett enjoyed watching as the tiny specs of snow danced in the air and slowly blanketed his entire world into a Winter Wonderland. Despite half of his family complaining about the freezing temperature, the teen would only shrug at their remarks and continued to promote the so-called “glory” of his favorite season.
Techno would close his eyes in relief as he would wrap heavy blankets around himself while drinking a hot drink from his favorite mug. The mug that was given to him on his first Christmas in the Craft household. He would then read his favorite Yule book, and listen to holiday songs from the playlist that his twin set up.
Nevertheless, amidst the tranquility that the season gave, Techno also indulged himself in the chaotic parts of winter. He would start snowball fights between neighborhood kids and remain as the longest-reigning champion for about six years. He would sneak out the family sled and call his friends, Dream and the gang, to slide down the icy path with him.
Sadly, Winter was the shortest out of all the seasons of the year. That did not stop Technoblade from making the best out of it though.
Because Winter meant the world to Technoblade.
Winter meant candy canes, fruitcakes, and gingerbread. Winter meant chocolate-chip cookies, raisin cookies, oat cookies, and warm milk. Winter meant marshmallows in his hot chocolate. Winter meant extremely thick layered clothing and ugly cheesy sweaters. Winter meant bright fairy lights hung outside their house. Winter meant snowstorms and canceled school days. Winter meant taking a break from academic stress and just being able to relax.
Winter meant rest.
However, Winter also meant nightly family gatherings. Winter meant cliche Christmas movie nights. Winter meant falling asleep with his family on the couch. Winter meant reading aloud to his brothers. Winter meant decorating the tree in an array of colors. Winter meant three presents to give, and three presents to open. Winter meant digging out a den in the hill for a game of hide-and-seek. Winter meant horrible Christmas puns. Winter meant ice skating in the frozen lake by the local public park.
Winter meant shoveling snow off the family car with Phil. Winter meant choosing songs to play in the living room with Wilbur. Winter meant building monstrous snow people with Tommy.
Winter meant family as well.
And Tommy, oh , how Tommy Craft loved spring.
The blond child fully indulged himself in the celebration of the season. He would wake up early every day the week before the official arrival of spring and observe the melting snow. He would eagerly watch the blooming of the flowers of their garden, a significant sign that Spring has indeed come. Afterward, he would then proceed to wake up the unhappy remaining family members with an excitement that cancels out the sleepiness and grogginess that Phil, Wilbur, and Techno felt.
Tommy loved spring with his entire soul, and he made sure that everyone knew it.
From his best friends, to the random lady at Tesco, Tommy would announce his awe and admiration for the season of flowers and creation. Tubbo and Ranboo can only sigh and smile as the youngest among them would rant for hours and hours to no end about the many reasons why spring should be longer than it was. Apparently, three months wasn’t enough for the blue-eyed personification of sunshine.
Despite the running joke about Phil’s obsession with crows, the closest one to a bird is Theseus “Tommy” Craft. His energy was unlike any other. His logic was unlike any other. His whole personality was unlike any other. Tommy was loud. Tommy was wild, Tommy was inimitable. Tommy was special. Tommy was free.
The young boy knew how to turn things around. If Phil arrived from work with a defeated stance, he would be rolling with laughter after a few moments with Tommy. If Wilbur didn’t feel like getting up from bed and eating breakfast, the teen would be up and about and having an eating competition with his twin after Tommy barged in his room. If Techno came from school fuming in anger and frustration, one conversation with the youngest would change his entire aura.
Tommy himself doesn’t realize the effect he had on the people around him. He simply did the things he thought were necessary. He only says the words that flowed through his youthful mind. This attitude of his can be seen all year round. But never has it shone as bright as it did during spring.
If Winter meant the world to Technoblade, Spring meant the universe to Tommy.
Spring meant fragrant buds opening up by the lake in the park. Spring meant seeing little bunnies hop around their backyard. Spring meant hunting for colorful eggs in the crevices of their small town. Spring meant fresh air and slight mist. Spring meant rain showers and jumping in puddles. Spring meant running across houses and yelling at his friends to join him.
Spring meant flying to a far country, just because Dad said that it was the best place to celebrate the season. Spring meant standing with his family as they all watch pink petals and leaves fall to the ground. Spring meant fireworks and weird but comfy robes. Spring meant tripping on the ground because of the wooden sandals.
Spring meant laughter.
Spring meant planting new flowers, saplings, and vegetable seeds with Dad. Spring meant embarrassing Wilby and Techno during class hours because he was dismissed early. Spring meant having sleepovers with Tubbo and Ranboo. Spring meant falling asleep in the open arms of his brothers after a day’s work.
Spring meant love.
Spring meant family the most.
It is Tommy Craft’s favorite season because it embodies him perfectly.
Because Spring meant life, and that is what Tommy is.
Laughing. Loving. Living.
.
.
.
But twelve-year-old Tommy Craft died on the fourteenth of December.
And in his passing, he took all the laughter, all the love, and all the life with him.
Technoblade knew a thing or two about tragic endings.
He is an English Major. He was the top student in their Literature class. He grew up reading books that were far too mature for his age. He studied and analyzed hundreds of stories over his academic years. Tragedy bore no surprise to the young adult as it serves as one of the most popular genres in classic novels and pieces.
No one ever wonders what happens after the tragic end of a story. No one ever wonders what occurs after the curtains fall and close. No one ever goes, “Hey! How does the character’s family deal with their loss a year after their death”? No one ever says anything. They just close the book and start over. They just exit the hall and buy a ticket to the next show.
No one ever asks. No one ever questions the post-events of a tragedy.
And yet Technoblade continues to breathe, continues to live in the aftermath of one.
The death of Tommy was undoubtedly a tragedy, as said by the nosy news reporter who stood outside their family house the day after his baby brother took his final breath.
According to everyone who witnessed the fall of the Craft household, it was the hospital’s fault that Tommy’s light was taken away before it could fully reach its potential. All it took was one lousy doctor. One careless medical professional left a scalpel in the poor boy’s body as they closed him up after surgery. The said surgery was supposed to be a quick one. Tommy’s appendix had burst and the doctors just needed to take it out and give him medication.
The family had planned to celebrate Tommy’s recovery by doing their holiday traditions early. Phil had decorated the house in green, white, and red (Tommy’s favorite color) ornaments and lights. Wilbur was in charge of the gifts, putting in an extra present to congratulate the child’s bravery throughout the whole process. He had been asking for a computer set since his birthday, one to match his two older brothers.
It took almost a third of Wilbur and Phil’s combined savings, but to both of them, Tommy’s reaction would be worth it. Techno’s job was in the kitchen. He had bought bags and bags of groceries, all components that would make up Tommy’s favorite foods. The family had even sent invitations to their close friends and relatives, all to make sure Tommy would be happy when he returns.
However, when Tommy woke up, Phil instantly knew there was something wrong.
The boy was pale and he had complained about every move he made. The doctors only told Phil that his son was reacting to the surgical wound. And that his complaints could be solved by painkillers. Phil believed them, of course. They were doctors. They knew what they were doing.
If only Phil had trusted his gut. He wouldn’t have had to watch his baby’s mouth froth up with blood and his darling’s skin become colder than the snow that fell outside the hospital window.
All the citizens of their small town said that the reason for the tragedy was preposterous in and of itself. A scalpel? A medical professional left a scalpel in a kid’s body? How was it not visible? How did that even happen? And not to mention, the awful aftercare of the hospital staff. If a patient complains, they must investigate. They must find the source of the problem. Not do what they did to Theseus, a boy who had abdominal surgery on the tenth, and died on the fourteenth.
Wilbur agreed with what the citizens said. For a while, even Phil did. But Wilbur was a different case entirely. The oldest Craft sibling was angry, he was fuming. He had wanted to sue the hospital. He himself couldn’t do it, as he was merely a brother and not the direct guardian of Tommy. So he tried convincing Phil. He tried asking Phil to make the whole surgical team pay for their crimes. To make that one stupid doctor lose his license. To avenge their lost sunshine boy.
At first, Phil was convinced. He had started to look for a lawyer. Started checking the medical malpractice laws. In the succeeding weeks of Tommy’s death, both father and son worked earnestly to deliver justice for Tommy. In those succeeding weeks, Techno was alone.
In those succeeding weeks, the Pinkett cried himself to sleep while hugging the box that held Theseus' ashes close to himself.
In those succeeding weeks, Techno refused to go downstairs, where everything there reminded him of what never came to be. The dim and broken fairy lights. The wrapped PC set by the tree. And the rotting groceries in the refrigerator. Everything was too much.
So Techno left.
He went to live with his best friend and closest rival, Dream. Dream understood Techno. The man didn’t question when Techno arrived with a single duffel bag and a box held tightly under his arm. Dream merely let Techno in. Dream then gave him the spare room that was supposed to be for gaming.
Techno slept on a mattress with no bed frame and ate the food that Dream would bring him. Dream never imposed himself, he never told Techno to pull himself together and accompany Wilbur and Phil on their battle with the hospital. He was just there . And Techno appreciated it. That presence was what he needed to get through.
And get through, he did.
Not a day flew by that he didn’t think about Tommy. But he managed to get better. He managed to breathe easier. He managed to not cry at every item that reminded him of the child. Techno thought he could “return to the real world” according to Dream.
When the snow had officially melted in L’Manburg, Technoblade thanked the man for letting him stay. Dream jokingly said that Techno now owed him a favor and bid the pinkett goodbye. Technoblade moved back to the Craft house. It was worse than what he had expected.
Most of their furniture was scattered all over the place. The kitchen was a fresh graveyard in its scent. There were piles of papers on the countertop. Phil was passed out on the sofa of exhaustion and Wilbur… Wilbur’s room was empty and devoid of any decoration and objects that signified his existence.
While cleaning the house, Techno discovered that Phil had abandoned the case and accepted the huge settlement that the hospital offered. He discovered that Wilbur despised this and ran away as soon as Phil announced his decision. Wilbur had texted him. Wilbur had called him. Multiple times. Due to the circumstances, the pinkett didn’t have time to reply. But he did now.
Ring
Ring
Ring
A finger on the end call button.
Beep!
“Wilbur! Hey-”
“Sadly, I am not here right now. Please leave a message after the beep.”
Some shuffling.
“Here, say goodbye, Tommy!”
Technoblade froze as the sweet voice of his five-year-old baby brother rang through the voice message.
“Bye-bye, phone person! Don’t fucking spam call my Wilby, okay? One m-message is enough!”
More shuffling.
“Unless it’s an emergency!”
Innocent laughter followed and Techno could hear his own chuckle mixed in the overlapping voices.
As the call ended, wet droplets fell from Techno’s eyes.
He couldn’t do this. He’s still breaking down after two months. What kind of brother is he? What kind of son is he?
Techno hurriedly wiped the tears and threw the garbage bag outside of the house.
No. He had to be strong. For Phil. For Wilbur. And for Tommy. He had to show that he could move past this. That he could somehow make their family whole again.
He had to try.
He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let Tommy down. He had to get everything in order. He had to get everything together. It was his only choice.
On the eve of Tommy’s death, Techno’s brother had made him promise something. Tommy had asked him to make sure Dada and Wilby and Techie were always together, even if he went to live with Mum. Techno had cried and begged for Tommy to take back his words. He had assured Tommy that he would turn out fine and they would plant his favorite alliums in their backyard when spring came. Theseus had only smiled and gone to sleep.
This is the aftermath of a tragedy. And Technoblade was breathing, and living in the wasteland it left behind.