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It starts with a kid in his basement.
Well – not his basement, exactly, it was more a hole under his basement, tunnelled into the rock, with an ash stained bell and a bunch of blankets on the floor arranged in a fashion that Techno could maybe define as a bed if he really stretched the definition of the word, and –
“Are those my gold blocks?!” Techno asks, exasperated. He already knows what the answer to that question is, and, yep, he checks upstairs and his gold blocks are missing. He goes back down to salvage whatever else Tommy has stolen off of him – he knew stuff was going missing, he thought it was just Phil messing up his chest organisation – and the kid continues talking his ear off. He’s doing his Tommy thing again, where he says eight different sentences in the space of a minute and finishes exactly none of them, but Techno thinks that there’s an edge of hysteria, desperation, to it that wasn’t there before. Or maybe not. Techno’s not a Tommy expert. And he’s got his own issues to work through right now, anyway. He doesn’t have time to look after some random kid.
… Tommy really doesn’t look good.
During one of his incoherent ramblings paired with over the top gestures, he stumbles into Techno and doesn’t even seem to notice he’s leaning his full weight on him, just continues talking about Dream and exile and Logstedshire and how he’s never going back there, which, good for him, Techno guesses.
Techno surveys the room he found Tommy hiding in once more. It’s kind of pathetic. Techno is very aware of the fact that Tommy is not physically capable of building something that looks nice, but he feels like this is a new low for him. And Techno saw Pogtopia. That was definitely not the most pleasant place he’s ever laid his head.
“Techno?” Tommy asks, looking up at Techno expectantly, still leaning on him. Techno hasn’t pushed him off because… anyway. What were they talking about again?
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Tommy?” Techno asks, changing his tone to be a little more gentle than it has been throughout the rest of this conversation. A pained look flashes across Tommy’s face.
“I don’t… I can’t go back to L’Manberg, they exiled me, they don’t – and I can’t go back to Logstedshire, because Dream was – Dream was my friend, but he was just there to watch me, so I can’t go back there, and I was hungry, and really cold, and I just thought, I could maybe, you know, stay here, I’ll just stay in this little hole, and I’ll stop stealing off you. Well, no, I definitely won’t do that but I’ll steal less, and please just tell Dream to fuck off if he comes here, he can’t know I’m here, please, Techno –“
“Okay, okay, let me just sort through those problems before you continue talking to me.” Techno interrupts, and Tommy shuts right up and looks at Techno with far more hope and expectation than Techno feels like he’s earned. “First of all, I want my gold and emeralds back, you can’t have those. And my channel membership sign, not because I can’t make a new one, just as a point of pride. If you do that, then maybe I will consider lettin’ you stay.” Maybe this will end badly, Techno thinks, but Phil’s already messaged him saying he’s stuck in L’Manberg for the foreseeable future, and the idea of being alone right now makes Techno feel vaguely nauseous. And there’s worse company than Tommy. Probably. Maybe.
“Thank you, Techno, thank you so much, have a stack of gapples as a token of my gratitude,”
“Those are my gapples!”
“They are now! Anyway, I will definitely not be a bother at least that much, thank you again Technoblade, you are so cool and poggers.” Tommy finally stops leaning his entire body weight on Techno and collapses to the floor almost immediately. “I’m fine, doing great, don’t mind me, just a little leg cramp.” Techno has a hunch this might be symptomatic of a bigger problem. He crouches next to where Tommy is decidedly not attempting to stand up again and gently presses the back of his hand to Tommy’s forehead. It’s freezing to the touch. When he retracts his hand, Tommy looks almost dazed.
“You need to warm up. Come on.” Tommy just stares at him. “It’s too cold underground, I have a fireplace upstairs.”
“I’m allowed?” Tommy asks hesitantly. Techno’s never heard Tommy ask permission like that for anything before. It’s unnerving.
“Sure.” Techno replies, instead of investigating further. Feelings have never been his strong suit. “You’ll just make yourself sick if you don’t. And it’ll ruin my real estate value if someone dies here.” Tommy huffs out an amused laugh, and Techno pointedly ignores the flare of pride in his chest.
He has to half-haul Tommy up the shoddily made ladder to his actual basement when he realises that Tommy is barely even capable of putting weight on his feet. The feeling of anxiety grows when he basically carries (a strongly protesting) Tommy up the stairs to sit on one of the armchairs in front of the crackling fire, and Tommy feels far, far too light for a sixteen-year-old who’s over six foot.
He leaves Tommy there, for a bit, after taking off his fur-lined cape and wrapping it snugly around the kid, who just stares up at him, slack-jawed, with wide eyes. Techno firmly impresses on him that he has to actually stay there, and starts to go to the kitchen to make food. He has a strong suspicion that if he makes something too rich, it’ll just make Tommy sick, but he needs actual food, not the gapples he’s been munching on every few minutes or so. Techno doesn’t mind too much, he has gapples to spare, and Tommy clearly needs some nutrition, but getting dependent on gapples has never been healthy for anyone. Expensive addiction, anyway.
He eventually makes his way back into the living room with two bowls of soup, where Tommy’s sat, fingers curled tightly into the cape, staring intensely at the dancing fire.
“Tommy.” Tommy jolts like he’s been shocked, turning to Techno with a wild, desperate fear in his eyes and almost falling out of his seat. “Hey, it’s just me.”
“Yep, I knew that, you just surprised me, I got distracted, you know me, easily distracted.” Tommy nods, and it seems like he’s trying to convince himself more than Techno.
“Had the ingredients lyin’ around for mushroom soup, so…” Techno holds a bowl out for Tommy to take, but Tommy just stares at it, face suddenly pale. “Tommy, come on, you need to eat real food.”
Tommy shakes his head. “I can’t. Not this, I just – I can’t, something else, I’m sorry, I can’t eat that.” Techno fights back the urge to make a snarky comment. Tommy looks absolutely miserable at the thought of eating mushroom soup, which is weird, but Techno can just make something else. It’s fine. He has other food in the house.
Techno’s halfway through making another meal when he feels a presence behind him. He turns to see a shivering Tommy hovering very forlornly in the doorway, cape around his shoulders. The shivering’s a good sign, at least. It’s worse when they’re not shivering – something Techno knows all too well.
“What are you doin’,” Techno says flatly. “Go back and sit down.”
“I can help.” Tommy replies, but his voice is wavering.
“You can barely stand, Tommy. If you don’t rest it’ll just get worse and then we’ll have to cut your legs off,” He says it as a joke, but realises a little too late that it might not be one. He’s seen what prolonged cold can do to a person. The fear in Tommy’s eyes tells Techno the kid knows it wasn’t really a joke either. “You can help when you’re better,” Techno adds in a gentler tone. He only realises after the words leave his mouth how… permanent they sound. Tommy clearly does too, from the way his eyes widen in surprise. He pauses, looking at Techno almost calculating, like he’s just waiting for Techno to take it back. Techno doesn’t. Just turns back to the stovetop, as if that’s that. And it is, because Tommy slinks back to his chair in front of the fireplace.
When Techno gives Tommy a new meal, just vegetables in a light broth, he doesn’t hover. Tommy doesn’t look entirely keen on eating it, but he doesn’t freak out like before, and attempts to put food in his mouth after Techno stares at him in silence. Techno’s aim was to just unnerve Tommy into eating, and it seems to work. But he can’t stand the awkward atmosphere, the silence as neither of them really know what to say to the other, so he leaves the room, trying to find something in the house to occupy him. He still keeps an ear out for Tommy, but it’s just silence.
It’s when he’s rummaging through his chests that he sees his piles of scutes. He thinks of the myth of Theseus, forced into exile. He thinks of Theseus, pushed by a king off a cliff, into the sea. He thinks of Theseus drowning.
He crafts a turtle helmet and puts it firmly on Tommy’s head.
Tommy jumps in surprise at the movement, but swiftly wipes the fear in his expression and replaces it with confusion. “The fuck?” He breathes out, more to himself than to Techno.
“It’s a gift.” A complicated look makes its way across Tommy’s face.
“For me?” Tommy asks hesitantly.
“No, for Edward the enderman.” Techno drawls. “Yes, you, Tommy.”
“Oh.” Tommy looks very uncertain. “Thank you.”
This behaviour is so weird.
Well, they’ve got time. If Tommy wants to bring it up, he can, but Techno’s not going to push. Emotional heart-to-hearts are not really his strong point. All he knows how to do well is fight. And he already knows in his heart that, for Tommy, he’d fight the world.