Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

:<\Day-0-0-0/>:

Y’know, maybe villains aren’t that bad after all.

I mean, who wants to be a hero anyway? So much work and effort, and for what? You get poisoned for one thing. One person you didn’t save. One fight where you let the villain get away. One war you couldn’t win. It all seemed a bit pointless really.

I mean, when you’re a villain, you don’t have to worry about disappointing others, because no matter what you do, they will be disappointed. As a hero, that’s the one thing you can’t let happen.

But a villain can do whatever they want and no one is going to care because everyone is too afraid of you. As a hero, you have to remove your bloodied clothes before going out and telling them you won.

As the hero, you fight to not be seen as a monster. As a villain, you already are one.

You don’t have to fit anyone’s standards because, let’s be honest, even if you did they wouldn’t care about you.

You have to toe a line of how people see you.

And you don’t have to get hurt.

Because you already got hurt.

You were the hero.

You know what it’s like.

They pushed you.

They broke you.

They made you this way.

So, yes, villains really weren’t that bad.

So why don’t I give it a try?

Villains are pog after all.

:<\Day-0-0-4/>:

It’s dark in here. I should have expected that really. But, I don’t know what I was expecting if it wasn’t darkness. Stars maybe?

Other people like me?

I don’t know, but whatever. 

There’s no way to tell time here. Im just writing down from when I found the book. Sometimes you find things. They do say the Void is the place for the lost. 

I died. I should have gone to limbo. But im here and it sucks. I mean, couldn’t notch and shit have made this a little more interesting? I get it’s for the big bads but im bored.

I don’t know how im here. The only way to here is through getting banned by an admin, but Dream wouldn’t ban me, and it doesn’t say im banned. And I died so I should have gone to limbo!

At least there I can get back. 

Here… I don’t know.

I regret running off like that, but it was so real. And I hadn’t had a nightmare for at least two months, not with Purpled sleeping next to me at least.

Eh, ill figure it out.

Somehow…

:<\Day-0-1-1/>:

Bumped into someone today. He’s a rude ass bitch but we’ve agreed to stay together. He had some rope that he tied to me and to him. At least we won't go insane now. And we’ve agreed we’re not friends, for those of you who think im getting a friend. We are simply survival buddies.

Friends are stupid.

Other than that, nothing really eventful happened.

If I find another book im writing ‘How to Sex 6’.

:<\Day-0-1-9/>:

I wouldn’t call this bitch a friend (because he’s not. He’s a survival buddy) but… he’s nice-ish I guess. He’s been here a lot longer than me. Few hundred days he says.

I think he’s secretly glad to find someone else.

I know a few things about him. But not the things most people know about their friends. The things they ask once and forget.

I know his favourite colour, coffee, food, biome. Stuff like that. He still hasn’t told me his name though.

So I haven’t told him mine. 

But he was sent here by his brother for terrorizing their server. Lol. Dream encourages that.

I haven’t told him about how I got here, mainly because I don’t know myself, but I don’t think he minds. 

It’s a mutual understanding of privacy.

Its nice.

:<\Day-0-2-2/>:

I miss Purpled.

I still have the compass and crystal, but they don’t work here.

If it weren’t for Purpled I wouldn’t have wanted to get out of here. But I do. For him.

I miss Dream too.

I suppose the green bitch was nice.

Survival buddy is keeping me company but… it’s lonely here.

:<\Day-0-2-9/>:

He’s a Watcher. He could leave. Easily. While admins can ban to the void, only Watchers can freely go in and out.

He’s a Watcher…

He’s staying because his brother hasn’t invited him back…

Huh. Maybe he does have feelings.

:<\Day-0-3-4/>:

I told him I was an elytrian. He’s going to teach me to fly. Properly.

I told him my name was Tommy, but I don’t expect him to tell me his.

:<\Day-0-4-0/>:

Limbo and the Void are different. On a Numbered-Life-Server (NLS), Limbo is the place you go to when you use up all your lives. The Void is where you go if you get banned. They have something in common though: you're suck there and can't leave.

I don’t know how im here. I should have gone to Limbo. I was on my last life. I think it glitched.

All I know is that I need to get out of here and into the Dream SMP’s Limbo. You can be revived if you’re in your servers’ Limbo.

In the Void you are shown parts of your past. It’s nice, but I want to go home.

Im going to tell him about this, he might be able to help. He’s been here a lot longer than me after all.

I’m going to get home.

No- we're going to get home.

:<\Day-0-4-5/>:

I told my survival buddy about my problem. He said he’d help me. 

We talked about it. It’s nice to have something to think over.

Something to do.

He told me that I might be able to get back if I die, but we’ve ruled that out because if you die in the Void… you die everywhere.

He also said getting another admin to add me to a server and reviving me could work. But we don’t have any way to contact the outside world here and I know it’s wrong of me to ask him to leave. He’s stayed here out of choice and respect for his brother, I don’t want to ruin that.

We’re working on it though. I just hope im not stuck here forever. It’s boring as shit.

:<\Day-0-5-1/>:

EX is gone. He got unbanned. Im truly alone.

Chapter Text

Grian knew something was wrong. He knew someone close to him was in trouble. He felt it. A swift in the wind, a tremor, a warning single, almost. People talk about Spidermans spider sense, and Grian supposed that this may be like that.

It didn’t slowly fade into existence, something that he would come to realise when reflecting on the past, no, this was like a slap to the face.

It hit him hard and fast. The only problem was that he didn’t know what with. He didn’t know what weapon had been used to hurt him.

He couldn’t see what it was, and that was what scared him the most. 

At first, Grian ignored it, putting it off as something to do with the moon. But it didn’t stop the nagging in his head that something was wrong. The feeling had faded, a sharp and quick attack like that of a whip. But the bruising and the scars remained, leaving him wondering.

Grian started looking for answers. Withdrawing from his friends (though not by much at first) and reading piles and piles of books. None answered his questions. 

It was frustrating to no end. His head hurt from all the tugging on his hair. He couldn’t think straight. One endless night of staying up and resourcing only made it harder to do it the next. 

He was snapping at his friends in anger. He was staying inside his alley. He wasn’t working on his base.

It consumed him.

And, when the books finally ran out, and he was nowhere nearer to finding any rhyme or reason, he collapsed in exhaustion.

There was only one other option he could think of to figure it out.

*~<!^!>~*

Tommy was cold. Chilled to his very core. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, warning lights were flashing, yelling at him to get warm. But, somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to really care. Or maybe it was that he had stopped wanting to care. It’s not like he could die, I mean looking at the last attempt it probably wouldn’t work anyway.

Now he was stuck here. 

Floating.

Light.

Alone.

The chances of meeting another person here were slim, and Tommy liked it that way. It was better to be alone.

He couldn’t hurt anyone.

Couldn’t annoy them.

Couldn’t get in the way.

Yes. He decided it was better that he was alone. 

Now he was no one's problem but his now.

His actions were only his to blame.

Bittersweet smile matched salt filled tears. Healed scared arms matched tear stained cheeks. 

Yes. It was better this way.

*~<!^!>~*

Tommy often thought about the rights and wrongs of society. If ‘often’ counted as the past few weeks(?) then yes, he did. 

He knew the people who were terrible and did horrible things got sent here. The Void. Sometimes, though, they were killed before that happened and trapped in the limbo. 

Tommy couldn’t help but think this was a much worse punishment than death. No one deserved this.

To float in space endlessly.

It would drive someone insane.

Tommy wouldn’t wish this on even his worst enemy. Not on the worst villain.

But, what really was a villain? It was one of those line-is-so-blurred-mise-as-well-call-everyone-a-villian type of questions. It was one of those this-is-something-that-I-think-about-constantly type of questions that was in Tommy’s head.

He didn’t think Dream was a villain, but others did. 

He didn’t think Techno was evil, but others wanted him dead.

He didn’t think Tubbo was all that great, but oth-

Tommy jolted at the thought. ‘He didn’t think Tubbo was all that great?’ 

Tubbo was his best friend, though. Why wasn’t he ‘all that great?’

Deep down, Tommy knew the answer to that question. Deep down, he knew why he didn’t think Tubbo was good. He just didn’t want to admit it because then it became real.

That he had exiled Tommy without much resistance. That would become real.

That Tubbo had thrown him under the bus more times than Tommy could count would become real.

The fact that Tubbo wasn’t a good friend would become real.

Tommy didn’t want it to. He didn’t want to believe Tubbo wasn’t a good friend. But he knew. 

He knew it.

And he knew it was pointless to say he didn’t.

It was the truth, after all.

And the truth always reveals itself.

Chapter Text

His limbs lay limp. He felt deflated. His eyes were bleeding aches from the salt in the tears. He faintly remembered the cause of the scattered and broken objects that lie around him. He had had another episode.

He was used to these by now. Ever since Tommy had… died? It had been a downwards spiral. He couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even breathe sometimes. 

An elastic band had wound itself around his chest, trapping him in a constant state of turmoil. His heart, or where it should be rather, felt like a big black void was swallowing it whole. All because of one person.

He was going insane without Tommy, without his Tommy. His little ball of sunshine to keep him going. Keep him from falling into the void where his heart lay.

Trembles and violent shakes racked his body, the taste of copper entered his mouth from his efforts to muffle his cries. His legs curled into his chest at the very idea of Tommy not being with him anymore.

His fingers turned white from the tightness that he held his compass to his chest. He would never again get to use it to find Tommy when he joined the server. He would never again feel the reassurance of the needle pointing directly to Tommy’s chest during one of those cold, dark nights.

Never hear the harsh laugh after a joke, no matter how good or bad it was.

Never see that radiant smile light up at the sight of him.

Never feel Tommy’s arms wrapped around his at night.

And it was all his fault. If he had of closed the tent properly to drown out the storm, Tommy wouldn’t have woken up.

If he had of squeezed Tommy just a little tighter that night, he wouldn’t have had a nightmare. 

If he had of tried harder to stop Tommy from running off, he wouldn’t have fallen.

If he had of-

A straggled noise followed by a choked sob fell from his lips at the thought of trying to stop Tommy from dying.

Purpled could feel himself falling apart at the seams without Tommy. 

His mind was bending and twisting in ways he wished he could ignore.

He missed his best friend.

He missed his laugh.

His smile.

His comfort.

His presence. 

He missed his sunshine.

He missed anything and everything about Tommy. All his little quirks and things about him that made Tommy Tommy. 

That made him.

*~<!^!>~*

Tubbo hadn’t been taking care of himself. Not at all. He was struggling. 

Tommy was dead, L’Manberg wasn’t the thriving nation it once was.

Techno needed to be stopped.

Dream was to blame.

Everything was falling on his shoulders.

He was just a kid! He didn’t deserve this!

He was supposed to be out having fun and running around! Not sitting inside deciding things for the lives of everyone in L’Manberg!

He should be with friends having fun and not caring. He should be making stupid decisions and not caring about the consequences. He shouldn’t be kept away from all of that purely because no one else wanted to stick up for him and take the job instead. He-

Tubbo stopped.

‘Oh…’

*~<!^!>~*

Dream wasn’t having a good time. No. Why? Because Tommy was dead. 

Dream cared for Tommy, yes. At first, he didn’t. Tommy was loud and annoying, and he wreaked havoc on the server. But, as time passed, Dream saw himself in Tommy. He saw the same sacred and abandoned boy who just wanted a friend and got attached. Quickly.

He saw during exile just how scared Tommy truly was of being abandoned (of being abandoned again) and it sparked something in Dream. He wanted to help Tommy.

He put up a façade that he didn’t care and that looking after Tommy was a waste of his time, but Dream knew that if Tommy asked him for something, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

He’d grown on Dream.

Maybe, that was why Dream spent many sleepless nights hoping Tommy was okay. Maybe that was why he had cried so hard for days after his death. Maybe that was why he blamed himself for it. He didn’t know. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Tommy, the child whom he was starting to consider his little brother, was dead. 

But he wasn’t. 

Because if he was dead, he’d be in limbo. And he wasn’t in limbo.

Dream had exhausted every option, every lead, every explanation, none of them fit.

He had never seen anything like it, and apparently, neither had anyone else.

Tommy had fit the ground, yes.

Tommy had died, yes. The message in chat confirmed it.

Tommy was in limbo, no. 

It was the endless cycle Dream was going through. Tommy was dead, it was confirmed, but Tommy wasn’t in limbo.

It made no sense. 

Dream had combed through every book, every scroll, every article, but none of them told him how to break the cycle. 

It was infuriating. 

!<*>^~~!*

TommyInnit left the game.

TommyInnit hit the ground too hard.

Chapter Text

They say that if you’re cold out in the snow and suddenly get warm do not take off your jacket because you have hypothermia, and it’s a last-ditch attempt from your body to warm you up.

They say that if you get drenched in icy rain, you should wrap yourself in foil to warm up and stop hypothermia.

They say that if you have hypothermia, despite your best efforts, you shouldn’t fall asleep as it just makes your body cool quicker.

Tommy didn’t have a jacket.

He was cold from the storm and felt the burning hot pins and needles pain you get from putting your hand in ice water scurry up his body. If he could chuckle, he would at the irony that his wings were frozen solid, but the rest of his body was heavy as lead. 

All he could do was float limply in his new open prison.

He was bone cold and could feel his eyes drag down with the effort of keeping them open as Techno told him to. Drilled it into him as a child.

Tommy had never had hypothermia, but he couldn’t help but think this was what it would be like.

For a moment, the idea of dying cold gripped him with a blood-curdling fear. The kind of fear that makes you cry late at night when you think about it because you never got to say goodbye. The kind of fear that holds soldiers in its grasp as the life floods from them like the blood from their wounds.

Tommy wasn’t a soldier. Wasn’t a fighter. Techno was a fighter. A warrior. Techno taught him to survive. How to survive.

And he couldn’t even stay alive long enough to show him it wasn’t all in vain.

Because as that flare of warmth spread through him, Tommy knew he was done.

It was over.

He was gonna die cold and alone in the dark.

Tommy had always been compared to the sun, bright, warm, and energetic, always ready to give and never take. 

Seems he had given too much this time.

*~<!^!>~*

Tommy wasn’t having fun.

First, he couldn’t die when he wanted to and now, after what felt like being bumped into an ice lake, he has to continue to drag on. If he was walking on the ground, he would be hunched over, head falling, and mouth hanging open in an effort to keep going. For what? He didn’t know.

Second, there’s a rude ass bitch that keeps on bothering him. Following him around and asking questions about this place and what it is, what it means, how it works, and shit like that.

As if Tommy knows the answers to those questions. (That’s why he asked them.)

But, despite his annoyingness, Tommy decided to let this guy stay with him. They even had some rope to tie themselves together! (The other guy had it.)

*~<!^!>~*

“We aren’t friends,” Tommy stated, the person next to him turned and if it weren’t for the helmet, Tommy would see the singular raised (and unimpressed) eyebrow.

“Obviously.” Was the only answer. Tommy scoffed and crossed his arms, feeling the rope brush against his outstanding arm as his notfriend continued, 

“Obviously, I was just making sure you knew.”

“I already knew.”

“That’s really rude y’know. What if I wanted to be your friend?” Tommy snapped back, making an argument out of nothing, he leaned back, arms still crossed.

The notfriend stopped and turned to look back at the very slowly somersaulting teen, and snorted at the sight. This was met with outrage from the victim of the Void's strange atmosphere.

“I could say the same to you.”

Tommy, looking up between tangled rope and flailing arms, returned with an ungraceful, “Huh?”

Eyes were rolled in junction with the other man’s reply, “What if I wanted to be your friend?”

Tommy, now on his side, cocked his head up to make level(-ish) eye contact, “Well then you would have to suck it.” Though, despite his spiteful nature, he was surprised that his argument had been uno reserved right in front of him.

That never happened to the great Thomas Careful Danger Kraken Innit.

The man in front of him merely shrugged, “Oh well. I’ll manage.”

“Without me? Impossible.” Tommy, now fully righted, followed just slightly after his notfriend.

“Right. Did you manage to stop spinning in circles?” Was the quip he got in response to his awesomeness.

“H-hey! You know I’m not as good as you…” Tommy defended, his voice trailing off at the end, to look away from his (definitely notfriend now) notfriend.

“Hmm.” If Tommy hadn't had been sulking about his loss to the Void and his notfriend had a lack of a helmet, he would have seen the amused smirk (-smile?) on his face.

*~<!^!>~*

“You miss anyone?” The question came out of the silence of the Void to Tommy’s left. The other man wasn’t looking at him, he didn’t have to answer, but the pressure of his crystal on his chest and the weight of the compass in his pocket, and was it always this hard to breath-

“Yeah, my friend Purpled.”

The man nodded, that would be the end of the conversation if Tommy didn’t continue it. They weren’t doing anything, well Tommy was writing in a book and the other man was just floating and looking, reading something on his helmet-screen-thing.

Silently, Tommy sighed.

“You?”

“My brother.” The reply was instant, making Tommy close his book in his lap and meet the gaze of the person across from him. The other man was already staring at him intently, clearly wanting to continue the conversation he started. His answer had been short, Tommy noted, opening his mouth to say something deeply smart and insightful, before, “He sent me here,” was added as an afterthought.

Tommy recoiled slightly at the new information, blinking in confusion, “Why would you miss him then?” Tommy leaned his elbows forward on his knees, resting his tilted head coupled with frowned brow on his linked knuckles.

The man twisted, so he was facing Tommy, bringing his hand up to rest on his neck sheepishly, “I kind of deserved it.”

“Oh.” Tommy leaned back slightly, no longer preparing to hypocritically lecture on how that was toxic. The man before him also relaxed, bringing his arm down at his side and continuing,

“I’m waiting for him to unban me.”

Tommy almost laughed, looking up past his clasped hands, amusement glistening in his dulled eyes, “What, are you able to come and go as you please?” The idea was absurd in and of itself – no one could walk in and out of the Void as they pleased- but then the expression on his notfriend’s face told him otherwise – and y’know what? Tommy was starting to get sick of these-these revelations.

“Really?” Tommy deadpanned, though he was leaning forward in attention.

“Yeah.” The lack of explanation straight up pissed Tommy off, but he was willing to wait for his notfriend to continue.

And when he didn’t and the space between them continued to stretch into an uncomfortable that made Tommy’s skin itch and his breathing hasten, and he had to fill the silence with sound, or it would swallow him whole-

“So why don’t you?”

His notfriend looked surprised and slightly confused at the question- surpfused? Conprised? Tommy shook his head, it didn’t matter. However, he did imagine that if it weren’t for the green helmet, Tommy would see frowned brows.

“Don’t I what?”

“Leave.” The words, ‘I know I would.’ Died on Tommy’s tongue. Clearly, his not friend had a reason for staying this long (“Uh, something like a few hundred days? I’m sure on the exact amount.”)

“I-I’m waiting for him to be ready.”

Oh. The man before him no longer looked like a warrior who had braved the Void for hundreds of days. He looked ‘just like me’. Mental, Tommy shook his head to banish the thought from his head. He wasn’t ready to think about that possibility yet. That there was someone out there like him. That could understand him.

Realising he hadn’t said anything in response yet, Tommy nodded.

“How?”

He knew he should leave it alone, but it had been ringing in the back of his head for a while.

“Huh?” His notfriend looked back up, confused once again by something Tommy said.

“How are you able to come and go?” Whilst he hadn’t done all that much research on the Void, he knew in general that no one could come and go as they pleased. The closest you got to it was being an Admin and gatekeeping the ban button. No one, or rather, nothing, could come and go. 

“…I’m a Watcher.” Ah. Except for those.

“Oh.”

“Hmm.” That was the end of that, notfriend turned back away from Tommy, leaving him with his thoughts – and his book.

‘Cool.’

Chapter Text

Exander was a Watcher, plain and simple as that. His twin was an Admin. Anyone who was anyone knew the history between these two. The war that took place years ago.

Watchers were the original Admins, they kept everything in order on the Home Server, enforced laws, and kept the world spinning ‘round. But they were flawed. Very flawed. So, a certain sector of them rebelled, ripping their masks from their faces and rejecting the Watchers’ ways.

At first, they stood against unstoppable odds, but then the people fought back. Admins and Watchers signed for peace. Their rule lifted and people were free. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than what it used to be. Until the ‘Evo Server’. 

No one really knows what happened there, but a group of Watchers that were unwilling to change infected it. They left signs, gifts, messages, and meanings all over. And then they got the Admin. It was a bloodbath. 

They did something to him, changed him into a monster. Didn’t work in their favour, though.

Or something like that. It’s a lip-tight secret, neither the Watcher group nor the server members are willing to say what happened. And the Admin is nowhere to be found.

The Admin is now here.

Exander had agreed to be the Watcher for his brothers’ server, but with it being so fresh and close to Evos’ destruction, he stayed in the background. Silently watching the wards and protective code for hackers, while his brother took care of the players. 

He was never good at sympathising with others. Watchers are not known for that, after all. 

He liked it that way. If he just protected the people without knowing them, then he wouldn’t know who he was failing. 

He used the ‘I’m a Watcher’ card to get people to stay away far too many times to count. It worked; it was effective. He didn’t need the approval of random strangers, even if that meant he was lonely some days. 

Other days he had his brother.

But then it did start to matter. And he did care what people thought. And they thought he was a monster. So why not give them what their looking for? Be their monster. It’s a lot easier than trying to convince them you’re nice.

Sometimes he wishes he hadn’t done that. Because now he never has his brother. 

So when a teenager looking like he had been dragged through the mud, strung up and kicked, dumped in water, and had every last drop sucked out of him showed up, Exander decide that maybe he could try and protect one last person. Like he was meant to.

He failed.

But getting to know Tommy was kind of fun. He was brash and rude, but it was charming in a way that reminded Exander of his younger (3 minutes still counts) brother. Xisuma swore like a sailor, don’t let him tell you otherwise. 

So yes, he was going to follow Tommy around, despite his continuous questions about the Void, lest someone much worse found him.

*~<!^!>~*

Telling Tommy he was a Watcher did not go quite as he expected it to. But then again, Tommy never did what anyone expected him to. ‘Never let ‘em know your next move.’ Was his favourite line.

It was growing on Exander.

He was pretty sure Tommy knew what Watchers were, however, he wasn’t sure how much Tommy knew about them. Exander made a mental note to explain it to him sometime. 

Perhaps he could teach Tommy how to be a Watcher. His code wasn’t assigned to be an Admin or Watcher, yet, but he had server worlds. So, he had the potential to be either.

The life of a Watcher was lonely and could those close to and around you if you weren’t careful. But it had more perks than being an Admin. One of those is travel to and from the Void. You could watch the lives of others in a second, see who they really were, what they were, and what they would be. 

An Admin was a hero. No matter what they did, they could be the biggest fucking dick in the world, eligible for the worst of crimes, and still be ‘better’ than the kindest Watcher. People trusted them with everything, they could solve bugs and problems, fix in-game problems, and help with day-to-day. 

They were untouchable in peoples’ eyes.

But without Watchers, Admins would have no power. They wouldn’t even exist. Admins were just Watchers that didn’t Watch. 

Exander understood why people wanted the powers of the Watcher without the Watching, something about ethics and morals. He just wished it was a little less black and white. 

But that was a fool's dream.

And he was already foolish enough to think he was getting out of the Void.

He could. But it wasn’t worth it. His parents were gone, and he had very few friends to go to. All of which were on Hermitcraft.

Sometimes he checked up on them, just enough to see how they were going, but not enough to know if they missed him or not. He was happy to believe that they moved past the past and had welcomed their new member in stride. An open mind.

Grian didn’t deserve scrutiny for his actions. 

Tommy was a lot like Grian, actually. Beyond appearance. 

Exander couldn’t say for sure as he didn’t know Grian, but from what he could remember they acted similarly. They had the same language as well, even if Grian never swore around other Hermits (He had quite a potty mouth in private). 

They both needed to be entertained.

Tommy’s main complaint about being here was that it was ‘boring as shit’. 

When they had discussed how to get the younger out of there, or when they talked in general, Tommy always fidgeted, twiddled, and just, moved.  

He had so much energy, endless.

He wasn’t meant to be here in this soul-sucking Void. 

So, Exander was determined to get him out.

The nature of Tommy’s arrival meant that if he died, he might return to his server, but that was too risky. If he died here, he died everywhere.

Adding him to a new server could allow him to get a communicator and contact his old server Admin, or remove the ban completely.

But Exander wasn’t an Admin. And Watchers couldn’t add people. So unless he went out and somehow convinced Xisuma to trust him and bring Tommy to Hermitcraft, there was nothing.

He could leave, and he would if there was no way to get Tommy out. But he wanted to wait for Xisuma, to show he was sorry.

But Tommy couldn’t stay here. He was just a kid. He wasn’t even an Admin or Watcher ye-

Exander stopped, metaphorically, his body kept floating forward, but he froze. Tommy brushed past him, continuing his rant about his chat insulting his incredible building skills.

If Tommy became a Watcher…

He could leave.

Chapter Text

Now, Technoblade wouldn’t say that he loved his family, he did. He had a way with words, a literature enthusiast at heart. But he would never tell someone he loved them.

That just wasn’t how he worked. He didn’t use his words to show his appreciation for those around him, he preferred to use gifts and gestures. He used material items and more tangible ideas of gratitude. That way, when people left (or he left them) there was something to remember the memories.

Technoblade was never one for voicing his feelings, so he simply did it in his way. It was ingrained in him from childhood. He watched Phil collect shiny objects and bring them back. He watched the adult Piglins hunt and gather food for the tribe. So he did that for his family.

He went out and fought for who he cared about and then when he came home, he came home bearing gifts. Gold, knowledge, warmth, and food. And he gave it to his brothers, he cared for them by being a provider.

He stepped up and kept them safe, he made sure that Tommy and Wilbur were alright. Would he have liked to have stayed around more? Yes. But life isn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair when his older brother left, and it wasn’t fair when Technoblade was left to fill his shoes as an eight-year-old.

Wilbur was a poet. He reminded you that he loved you by singing a song and dragging you to dance with him. He wrote the kind of literature Technoblade liked to read. Not the kind he sought out, but the kind he liked to read in his own time. Wilbur learned about the Greek Gods, the Sun, and the Stars for his brothers.

For Tommy, so that he would always know how to find his way home. And so that he would know Wilbur was always looking out for him if he was alone with just the night sky.

For Technoblade, so that he could follow his long talks about the Greek Gods. So that he could understand the way that Techno thought and acted, he felt a little bit more connected to his twin while Technoblade was away on long trips.

He wrote songs for his son, singing to him as a child and showing him how to express himself.

He wanted to build a kingdom for his people and keep them safe under his reign. He dreamed of the promised land and knew he could make it happen.

Wilbur believed in himself, perhaps a little too much. He placed himself at the top of the world, with a crown and a cape that to those around him said, 'I will lead you, but I won’t protect you.' Some found that admirable, and some found that to be a challenge. Others saw it through rose-tinted glasses, believing they were still looking at the Wilbur who raised them.

But, despite all of that, Wilbur did put his heart into his ideas and followed them through. He thought he was doing what was best, and it is hard to fight a man who believes wholeheartedly that he is right.

He was ambitious and far too prideful for his own good.

 And it was that ambition and pride that dug his grave. He tied himself too tightly to what he believed in and could never let it go, the result of that, is of course, that he died when his ideas did. He saw the world he had created wither and die away, and he followed suit.

And at that moment, he clutched onto that crown, head held low and his eyes burning with tears. He wasn't crying for himself, he was crying for his nation.

And, no matter what others may say, there was nothing that Technoblade or Tommy or Phil or Fundy or Niki could have done that would have changed the outcome. Wilbur would not have bowed down and let it go, not even for his brothers, his father, his friends, or his son.

He couldn’t. Not anymore, at least.

It was an addiction to him, and in his state of madness and insanity, Wilbur lost his hold on his morality, and it became his undoing.

Tommy, poor, sweet, unfortunate Tommy, had to watch it all happen. He had to watch in turn as five became four, and then four became three, and then three became two and finally two became one.

At the time he didn’t really understand where number five went, no child would, but he was old enough to know that 4 and 3 left for weeks at a time, and that when 3 didn’t come back with 4, it meant that 4 would be gone for a little while longer.

Tommy knew now, of course, that 3 was Technoblade and 4 was Phil, he learned that pretty quickly. And, honestly? He found it difficult to blame Phil sometimes. He was a grieving father, and he tried his best, but his best wasn’t as good as it used to be, and it wasn’t enough anymore.

If you were to ask Tommy about this, he would say he got it, he did! But he didn’t. He sometimes asked himself, ‘How? How could someone abandon the 3 children that rely on him?’ and he always came up empty. But he still didn’t blame Phil.

Because even though Phil would leave for long periods of time, he always came back. Eventually.

And that was enough for Tommy, he had two amazing brothers! He wasn’t really bothered by the fact that he didn’t know his father as a child. But he knows that’s just him.

And secretly, he’s pretty sure that Phil’s absence is the reason Wilbur was so hellbent on creating a nation. He wanted his father's attention, his father's approval. And Tommy followed him blindly. He was blind to Wilbur’s decline. He was blind to the problems he caused. He was blind until it all blew up in his face, literally and figuratively.

And in the end, all Wilbur got from his father was his cause of death.

And, Tommy, well, he didn’t feel much when it happened. What was he supposed to feel? The insane brother that shit all over him and his spirit, killed by the father he never knew?

He was almost glad. He didn’t have to feel betrayed by Phil, because he never grew to trust him as someone closer than an arm’s length away.

And he had been starting to hate Wilbur for a while, so it almost felt like the big bad monster was gone.

It was metaphoric of his childhood, really. His father went and fought off the big bad haunting Tommy and his brothers, and then returned with not much more than a ‘Hello’.

Now, of course, Tommy didn’t hate Wilbur, but he certainly wasn’t singing his praises either. In the end, he hid away in the tunnels of Pogtopia, trying to find a place where Wilbur’s laugh didn’t echo through the halls.

He didn’t like the underground, where he couldn’t see the sky and the stars, to remember a time when Wilbur didn’t talk to nobody, didn’t pace for hours, didn’t whisper and plan in the middle of the night, when he didn’t question Tommy every time he came back into the cave.

When it was simpler. Easier, even.

When a blur of red would pick him up and take him through the trees and into the open air.

When Tommy couldn’t see the bones through his skin, and would wait by the door for Technoblade to come home so that he could show him the new trick he’d learned.

Another thing that would never change.

But, Tommy was glad Wilbur was gone. It made it easier to breathe like the strict hold on his lungs finally snapped and all the colour returned to his pale corpse, Tommy was left gasping for air, wondering why everyone else around him was able to breathe fine.

And he was glad L’Manberg wasn’t his to deal with. It was Wilbur’s dream, it was built off what Wilbur needed, not what Tommy needed. Tommy wouldn’t have been able to stay there for long if Wilbur hadn’t insisted he did so.

Tommy was the first to believe in Wilbur’s dream, but he was the last to stop hating him.

So, one brother died, one brother tried to stop it, one brother didn’t help the matter and one brother couldn’t do much but watch.

And their father was left with one child.

At least he was the favourite.

But Phil still grieved for each of his sons. He still loved them, and he knew he was the reason Tommy didn’t think he did.

So, when the opportunity to save his son and bring him back came offering in the least expected form of a green man wearing a smiley-faced mask and a purple alien…well, he did admittedly slam the door and rethink his life choices for a few minutes, but he did take it on the second attempt.

*~<!^!>~*

In true British fashion, tea, biscuits (a brief explanation of, ‘no, these are not bread and no, they weren’t made by a slave.’ was provided upon the suspicious looks given), and some triangle sandwiches because Phil was absolutely certain he couldn’t have this conversation without them.

Their (Technoblade had shown up unannounced, seemingly sensing that his least favourite homeless guy was in the area) guests remained quiet while Phil prepared the platter of food, and if he wasn’t already suspicious of them, he was now.

Dream loved hearing the sound of his own voice far too much for him to shut up.

He placed the tray on the coffee table, sitting directly across from Dream, Technoblade sat down in front of Purpled, and Phil was pretty sure the teenager wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and cry.

But, if that was because of Technoblade sharpening a Netherite sword with a potato threateningly, (Phil rolled his eyes when he saw Technoblade pull it out earlier) or if it had to do with their incredibly cheerful opening of, ‘Tommy’s not dead.’ As a conversation starter, he didn’t know.

Nevertheless, Phil drew a deep breath and decided to bite the bullet, “Alright, mate, what are you two here for?”

Chapter Text

Exander was having a great day (Tommy was working on a little project, not talking Exander’s ear off) and he was finally starting to relax. Not a single run-in with the other wrongins (in Tommy’s words) for a few days now and they had managed to find some whoseits-whatsits people had thrown away.

Exander was just starting to get ready to sit back, kick up his feet, and read a book when a blinding light reared its ugly head. Honestly, couldn’t they turn it down?

‘A summing,’ his brain supplied unhelpfully.

It moved around the dark space, looking for someone and then it stopped. Tommy, who by down had latched onto Exander’s shoulders and was using him as a makeshift bodyguard, was muttering some gibberish about ‘repenting for his sins’ and saying ‘I promise I’ll never use Steve’s name in vain again.’ Exander was pretty sure the saying was ‘Prime’, but he was also pretty sure that Tommy also said ‘What the sigma?’ so he just tuned it out, ‘Teenagers.’

Refocusing on the current stationary blinding light, Exander frowned his brow. They never stopped searching until they found their person, so what the fuck was this one doing? Was the Admin sent by it drunk out of their minds? Or just incompetent to the nines?

He realised too late that it was moving rapidly towards them. Tommy started full blow screaming, shrieking about the dumb shit he used to do and how he wouldn’t do it again. ‘Bull.’

Exander rolled his eyes, rounding on the blithering idiot behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders, “Shut it. That thing is coming in our direction because it is going to bring one of us back to the land of the living, alright? So, either your Admin has finally figured out right from left and come to get you or my brother has had a serious fall and suffered major brain damage.”

Tommy looked behind him, eyes wide and a most likely out-of-pocket retort building on his tongue. Exander cut him off before he lost even more brain cells to the weird thoughts of a raccoon in a teenager’s body, “Either way, you’re getting out of here, understand?”

Tommy locked him in the eyes, and for a second, Exander realised that hope was starting to build up before it was squashed by something akin to anger (Exander also realised that there was something in that, but he wasn’t going to unpack it now), “What about you?”

“Doesn’t matter ‘about me’.” Exander snipped back, scrambling together their miscellaneous items and shoving them into Tommy’s chest, forcing him to take them, “Hold these.” He ordered, turning to face the approaching summing vessel, trying to gauge how much time they had left. ‘Like, two minutes, and then we die.’

“But, if it comes to get me, you’ll be left here.” Tommy continued his argument, and ‘Curse him,’ Exander thought because that just made it all the more difficult to want to send him away. But Exander knew that Tommy needed to go, and what happens to him can be damned.

But he didn’t say that to Tommy, because if he did say that to Tommy, then he would have to admit to himself that he cared. He wouldn’t be able to hide behind the excuse of moral obligation anymore.

“I’ll be fine, kiddo. I’ve lasted long enough so far.” He said, turning to look back at Tommy. And, for a moment, because damn it all the kid deserved to know, he left the walls come down and let a flash of emotion show across his face.

Tommy seemed to get it, because he nodded (albeit non-committedly) and put on a brave face to stare the devil re-incarnated as an epileptic’s worst nightmare in the face. Exander smiled, before doing the same.

The summoning vessel was less than 10 meters away from them now, and Exander took one last brief look at the kid that had fought his way tooth and nail into his heart and demanded to stay there.

‘So long, friend.’

Exander swears he heard Tommy say, “HOLY SHIT THAT’S BRIGHT!” Before they were enveloped in a blinding light.

*~<!^!>~*

So, as it turns out, his brother had had a serious fall and suffered a considerable amount of brain damage because Xander now found himself sitting in Xisuma’s living room.

Cuffed and restrained by the very sharp blade pointed at his throat by none other than False Symmetry, but his assessment still stands. He briefly wondered from what height his brother had to have fallen from to decide to do something this stupid and ultimately decided he didn’t want to know.

Oh, but he wanted to annoy his brother, so…

“Where’d you fall from?” He asked, successfully stopping his brother’s rather intense pacing and getting a little bit of relief when the tip of False’s sword was pulled away from his neck in what must have been momentary surprise because it was shoved back harder a second later.

“What?” Xisuma asked, looking at Xander as if he’d suddenly sprouted a second head and started doing the Irish tap dance while boxing a Kangaroo and singing ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’.

Really, you do that once on Easter and people never let it go.

“Have you assessed him for being in his right and rational mind?” Xander asked, turning his head as far as it would go without serving it from his body and looking at False in a questioning manner, “Like, clearly he needs an intense psychological evaluation if he somehow reasoned that bringing me back was a good idea.”

Xisuma rolled his eyes and groaned, holding his head in his hands, “I didn’t fall, I brought you here for a reason.”

“A pretty bad reason.” False muttered under her breath. Xander delighted in the pained face Xisuma made upon the commentary of his so-called friends. It looked painful, to say the least.

“False, please.” He said, giving her a look before turning to his brother, “Listen, Ex, we’re having trouble with the wards. They’re not holding up the way they used to. And… well, you’re the best Watcher I know- Oh c’mon False, please!” False had made a face at the ‘best Watcher’ comment. Xander wished he had popcorn or, God forbid, a pop tart. He loved those.

“Exander was one of the best Watchers. But I don’t see why we have to bring him here.” She argued, clearly miffed that he was even being considered to fix their problem. Xisuma sighed, again, and continued, seeming to accept the fact that False wasn’t going to relent on the snide comments.

“Joe is great, yes, but he hasn’t been able to fix this issue.” It seemed to Xander that they were having some trouble in paradise, so he decided to input his own helpful insight,

“Alright, so, as I understand it, whatstheirname new Watcher is completely out of his depth and the best alternative you could come up with was me?”

It looked like for a moment Xisuma was going to refuse the idea that his friend couldn’t fix the wards, but he gave up and nodded, defeated. False tensed, Xander could tell from the helpful way she pushed her spear more aggressively into his neck. Now, he had no idea what in the emotional rollercoaster was going on, but he enjoyed watching it unfold.

“Okie doki then, what do I get if I do this?” He asked, doing his very best to come off as entitled and uncooperative as he could. Based on the way False reacted, that is to say: badly, he succeeded,

“You’re lucky X even brought you back from the only rightful place you belong, fiend.” She snarled, digging her spear in. ‘This can’t be legal.’ Was the first conclusion Xander came to, and the second was,

“Then send me back? Like, why keep me around if you don’t want me here? It’s not that hard, jeeze.” Now, Xander wouldn’t say that he was a mean person, people say it about him, but he would never say it about himself, so for good measure he decided to add, “I’m sure your other Watcher can totally handle this problem all by himself, but, he has, after all, already failed so I wouldn’t count on it.”

Boy oh boy, please Prime let him rewind time just this once, he needed to see his brother try to wrestle a murderous False one last time before she kills him.

But alas, his prayers are never answered and False was herded out of the room before she could do any real damage.

Xisuma closed the doors, and False’s shouts of pain, misery, and suffering were cut off. Xander watched his brother rest his forehead against the door and caught his breath, before turning to look at him with a glare, “That was unnecessary.”

“I know,” Xander replied, with all the smugness and attitude of someone who knows how much he is hated and likes it.

The smugness and attitude one could expect from a Villain, not their own brother, but Xisuma took it in stride and sat down in front of his oldest friend.

It was here that Xander really looked at his brother for the first time, the tensing of his shoulders, the worry in his brow, the wringing of his hands. His brother was stressed. Xander could tell that much even without being able to see his face.

And it was here, that he was reminded of who he was.

“I’ll do it and get out of your hair; I don’t want anything,” Xander said. He knew it was pitiful and he knew went against anything and everything he said. But he knew his brother didn’t forgive him, and he knew he wasn’t welcome here. Besides, he needed to get back to Tommy.

“No, no. If you can fix it, you can stay. Joe is good, but he can’t hold the wards by himself. I’ll make it look like I sent you back or something.” And there it was, the thing Xander knew he deserved and knew he caused, but it still stung to hear Xisuma say. His brother didn’t want the other Hermits to know he was here.

His brother was ashamed of him.

And it was his fault. But still.

“Sounds good.” Maybe Xisuma would pick up on the lack of emotion in his voice, or maybe he would talk to him more, but he didn’t. All he did was remove the link of the cuffs and stand,

“I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying… I need to set it up though…” And it was here that Xander realised his brother thought he wouldn’t help.

Of course, Xander would help. He would always help if Xisuma asked. But Xisuma didn’t know that. And Xander didn’t know how to tell him.

But it was fine. If he fixed the bug and showed his brother he could be trusted, he could help Tommy. And if he could help Tommy, then maybe he could live with himself.

And maybe he could make it up to his brother.