Work Text:
Tommy has been on this server for exactly three weeks and four days and the only thing he’s learned is that adjustment periods are hell. Every time someone approaches him from behind he nearly takes their head off with his sword, every time someone raises a hand he flinches. Every time Tommy dies he feels like he’ll be dead forever.
The boy makes an effort to socialize with everyone, tries to see them as kind well-meaning people, but all he sees are the faces of murderers. The faces of people he’s murdered.
Because of this Tommy spends most of his time with Scott Smajor, who was not on his previous server. Scott is a starborn, which is scary because that means he can basically blow up whenever he wants, but he’s also a really nice guy. He teaches Tommy lots of cool building tricks and even offers to help build him a house of his own on the server. Since he’s not that great at building, Tommy mainly just watches Scott when he works, and the two make conversation easily. He tries not to let the man remind him of Sam.
One day, as he builds, Smajor tells Tommy about how he got the land for his greenhouse. “Basically I bought Ranboo’s house from him and Tubbo,” he explains, placing down a few blocks before continuing, “for twenty diamonds and a favor.”
Tommy freezes, feeling his chest twist and his heart start beating at an unnatural pace. He tries to keep the black spots out of his vision, to keep his breathing steady and his mind at ease, but it’s impossible.
Favor. Favor, favor, favor, favor, favor. The word bounces around in his mind, repeating itself in a monotone voice. I am sure, unless, of course, you wanna call in that favor?
“Um,” Tommy says dumbly, taking a deep breath and wincing as his stomach clenches, “did they…use it?”
Smajor doesn’t take his eyes off of the house, setting down a few more blocks before absentmindedly replying, “what, the favor? Oh yeah, they used it a while ago. Probably for something stupid, I don’t remember.”
He lets out the breath he’d been holding, letting his shoulders deflate. Scott doesn’t owe anyone anything. There are no unpaid favors. Tommy is okay. Tommy is okay.
The two spend the rest of the day chatting about more lighthearted things. Tommy pokes fun at Smajor and the man teases right back. It’s good, nice. Tommy likes it. But he still can’t shake the pool of uncertainty growing in his chest.
—
Techno doesn’t like the kid they found in the woods. Or, rather, he’s wary of him. More so he’s wary of wherever this kid came from. Wary of whoever gave him the gash on his leg and the hand shaped bruise on his back. Whoever he’s screaming and begging for when he talks in his sleep. Techno is wary of whoever made this kid so wary. Wow, that’s confusing.
Theseus–the kid in question–doesn’t seem to like him much either. Actually, he seems afraid of Technoblade. Which, as Wilbur kindly pointed out, is slightly ridiculous since the man has literal bunny ears. Not that he can’t hold his own in a fight, Techno sure isn’t weak, but he’d never hurt anyone on the server, so rationally Theseus has no reason to be scared of him.
He’s scared of almost everybody though, so maybe Techno’s not special after all. Still, the sheer horror in this child’s eyes when he invites Theseus to help him harvest carrots fills him with concern.
“You want… me ? To help you harvest your carrots?” he practically squeaks. Technoblade simply nods nonchalantly, leaning on his hoe. Theseus eyes the tool nervously, like Techno might hit him over the head with it.
The kid stares at him, mouth hanging open slightly. “You–but, um,” he fidgets with the hem of his button up, “why?”
Techno shrugs, “another pair of hands makes the work easier, and I’d enjoy the company.”
Secretly he thinks this kid might need a distraction, but pointing that out probably wouldn’t ease Theseus nerves.
Slowly, the boy nods, as if he’s not quite sure but he’s still making the decision.
“Okay. Okay, I'll help you,” he says. Techno smiles and soon the two are walking to the older’s farm, Theseus, surprisingly, filling most of the silence. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this very real and true fact, Blade, but where I come from I am known as the Carrot Harvester Extraordinaire. Yes, carrots are my bitches.”
He snorts, but doesn’t comment, not wanting the kid to stop talking. This is the most Techno has ever heard him talk and he finds he much prefers it to the silence. It’s also the first time he has heard Theseus talk about his old server without completely shutting down. When they reach the carrot farm Techno pulls on a pair of gloves and hands a second pair to the kid. Theseus dons the gloves and works diligently, talking less and focusing more.
Technoblade learns a lot about Theseus while they kneel in the dirt, pulling carrots from the ground. He learns that the kid has an amazing sense of humor and two older brothers. He tells Techno about how his dad lives in a tundra biome where it snows all the time and how the man gives him bottles of honey whenever he visits. Theseus has a strange look on his face when he talks about his family, something in between sorrow and nostalgia. Technoblade doesn’t comment, he lets the kid talk however much he wants, and fills the silence whenever Theseus is unable to. It feels nice to have someone to share the work with, someone to laugh with. Not that Techno doesn’t already have that, Phil or Wilbur would gladly have helped if he had asked, but he has a feeling Theseus doesn’t have the same support system, the same people to fall back on when things are too hard. The thought makes him angry.
When they are done, Techno takes the blonde inside his house to wash the carrots, before sending him off with a bundle of the vegetables. It may be wishful thinking, but Technoblade swears he sees the tiniest hint of a smile grace the kid’s face as he leaves with the carrots.
Techno thinks he’d like to see the smile again.