Archive of Our Own ^beta

  Ash floated from the sky, mixing with the snow on the ground. Tommy flinched as he heard lightning strike, the sound a bit too close for his liking. 

  He took a moment to calm himself, before continuing to trudge through the woods. He’d lost most of his warmer gear sometime during his raid of the last town while trying to escape a horde of zombies that had cornered him on his way out. Goosebumps were slowly forming on his arms, his nose and fingers turning numb. His sword bumped rhythmically against his knee with every step, giving Tommy some sort of feeling of safety.

  He let out a deep breath, the air in front of him turning foggy. It was getting darker now, the dying sun weakly reaching out with barely any warmth. Tommy rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get the blood flowing in them again. 

  Snow and ash crunched under his boots as he looked around for some form of shelter. The darker it got, the more danger he was in after all. 

  He could hear the groans of the undead and the screams of the unfortunate all around him. Tommy needed to find shelter, and fast. The longer he was out in the open the easier it was for him to get robbed. Or worse, bitten. 

  Injury due to anything else was preferred compared to a zombie at this point. While it was a bitch to treat, it was infinite times better than turning into whatever the hell the undead were.

  He decided against lighting his torch, choosing to tread carefully through the dark instead. Leaves and snow crunched under his boots, the forest becoming quieter as he travelled further and further into the woods.

  The forest had become dark now, the sun having set ages ago. Tommy exhaled softly, hand resting on a tree as he gathered his bearings. The air was not as toxic as it was in the town he just raided, meaning he didn’t have to rest as often. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to ground himself. 

   Just because he couldn’t hear any of the groaning zombies didn’t mean he was out of danger yet. Tommy flexed his fingers a few times, trying to work out the stiffness that set in. Opening his eyes, the boy moved away from the tree, adjusting his backpack straps. 

  He took out a half-eaten granola bar from his pocket, cringing slightly at how the wrapping crinkled as he opened it. Tommy started walking in a general direction once again, carefully finishing the granola bar. He did a quick count of all the food he had left before he’d need to do another town raid.

  Town raids required at least a day’s worth of preparation, the toxic air and abandoned buildings a breeding zone for the zombies. 

  His current supplies should ideally last him a little under a week, he decided, ignoring the way the wind turned colder and harsher. His arms and legs were numb, goosebumps rising as his cheeks and nose turned red with cold. 

  Snow was falling faster, Tommy realized. Or it could be ash. Both looked the same as they floated from the sky. He looked up at the sky, not a single fabled star among the void. He could feel the snow falling on his face, landing gently and melting almost immediately. 

  As Tommy was looking up at the dark sky, he didn’t hear the snapping of twigs and crunching of snow. What he did hear however was the groan of a zombie. Right behind him. 

  Tommy whirled around, drawing his sword and slashing at the zombie in one fluid motion. He scrambled back, eyes wide and ears straining for any sound. The zombie he had slashed at groaned pathetically before walking towards him again.

  Its eyes were fogged over like the person had an extreme case of cataract and Tommy was pretty sure the thing was drooling

  Embarrassing honestly.

  Tommy readied his stance, raising his sword. Visibility was low, the forest providing enough cover if he had to run from this lone monster. He assumed this zombie was alone as the half-rotten monster ambled its way to him. 

  That was his first mistake.

  Zombies rarely travelled alone. They were always in packs. In large crowds of groaning and mumbling masses.

  Just as Tommy finished fighting the first zombie, another three emerged from the thicket. Tommy, while fighting, kept backing away as he tried to find an opening to escape.

  It led him to a small clearing blanketed in snow and dark ash. 

 Visibility was still low however, the snow increasing substantially. Tommy had a bad feeling about the amount of snow that was falling, a pit growing in his gut.

  Tommy didn’t wait for the increasing amount of zombies to reach him, instead running straight at them. 

  In hindsight, it might’ve been a bad idea. 

  A horrible, reckless idea even.

  Tommy slashed and stabbed, dropped and rolled. It helped that the zombies' only form of attack was to walk forward and grab onto the nearest living thing possible and bite.

  The wind had gotten stronger and way colder than it was a few minutes ago. He was tiring out and the never-ending horde of zombies was simply something he would not be able to survive. 

  He was bleeding in at least three places, his shirt sleeve was missing but thankfully he hadn’t gotten bitten anywhere. 

  Tommy turned around to retrieve his bag before more zombies overwhelmed him. Only for his heart to drop into his stomach. 

  His bag was in tatters, half of his supplies buried in the ankle-deep snow. Eyes widening, he scrambled forward, picking up everything in reach before wrapping it in the remains of his bag. As he wrapped up his supplies, a hand landed on his shoulder.

  Tommy let out a yell of surprise before attempting to get away from the zombie. The zombie gurgled, nearly falling on top of Tommy. Holding his sword out in front of him lest another zombie ventured forward, he backed away from them before turning around and running. 

  He ran through the woods, snow beginning to fall heavier and thicker than before, stumbling over rocks and roots in the way. He held his makeshift holder of supplies close to his chest, sword in the other hand as he ran and ran.

  Chest heaving with panic and lack of air, Tommy didn’t stop running, his thoughts flying by at the speed of light. 

  He could’ve died, he realised with horrifying dread. He would’ve been torn apart if he was just a bit slower.

  He heard thunder boom above him in the sky. He then saw lightning crackle amongst the clouds, snow obscuring most of his vision.

  Panting heavily, Tommy turned a corner, his foot catching on some kind of root, sending him sprawling. Pain shot up his left leg as he face-planted on the ground, his bag flying out of his hands, the items in it going everywhere. 

  Stunned, he stayed like that for a moment before slowly pushing himself up, ashy snow sticking to his face. His ankle twinged painfully as he got onto his knees, hands planted firmly in the snow. Breathing heavily, he barely repressed a flinch as lightning flashed in the sky, followed by booming thunder.

  The boy could barely see in front of him now, snow obscuring his vision, the sun having fully set now. 

  Pain shot through his leg as he tried to take a step forward. Gritting his teeth, he leaned against the tree, scanning his surroundings for a place where he can set up camp. His ankle proved to be a hindrance to his movement as the blond tried to start his journey through the forest.

   The snow was falling heavily now, his suspicions of an incoming snow storm confirming themselves. All his stuff, except for the items in his pockets were gone now, lost in the snow. It was obvious he needed to find shelter. And fast.

   Letting out a deep breath, he steeled his resolve and took a step forward. Barely suppressing a scream of pain, Tommy blinked the spots out of his eyes as pain shot up his leg.

   He scanned his surroundings more desperately now. If his ankle was seriously sprained or injured to the point where he couldn't walk, he might as well be a sitting duck for the various things waiting to kill him.

   Snow was settling on his shoulders, his nose turning very numb. Through the flurry of snow, he caught sight of a clearing up ahead. He gripped the trunk of the tree next to him tightly, biting down on his lip hard before taking another step forward.

   Slowly and painfully, he half dragged, half limped towards the clearing. Breathing labourously, Tommy leaned against another tree, patting his side for his sword. 

  When his hand didn’t come in contact with the familiar hilt of his sword, Tommy looked down in alarm. 

  He remembered drawing it when the zombies attacked. However, the boy did not remember whether he put the blade back in its sheath. 

  He must’ve dropped it when he fell, he realized with slight horror. 

  Grabbing his flashlight that was clipped to his belt and throwing all caution to the wind, he switched it on and began shining it behind him. The snow was almost knee-deep now and he simply could not feel his feet anymore. If he stayed out longer, the snow was going to bury him. 

  He gave the storm about half an hour before it’d be up to his neck and the end for him.

  Turning around to face the part where he came from, he wiped the snow falling on his face away before scanning the area for any sign of his sword. 

  A flash of metal caught his eye. Shining his light at the thing, he nearly sighed in relief as he realized that it was his sword. 

  Keeping the flashlight trained on the area where his sword lay, Tommy took a deep breath, steeling himself before taking a step forward. 

  Steadily he trudged through the snow, the pain in his ankle increasing minute by minute. By the time he reached the sword, the snow was covering his knees. His pants were completely drenched and his teeth were chattering due to the biting cold. 

  Digging through the snow with shaking hands, Tommy dug until his hands closed around the familiar feeling of his sword’s hilt. He put his flashlight in his mouth, as he drew the sword out from under all the snow. 

  After placing his sword in its sheath, Tommy shone his flashlight around once more to get a bearing on his surroundings. He picked up a couple of his belongings that were within reach, stuffing them into his various pockets. 

  Just as he was about to switch off his flashlight, a small flickering light just ahead caught his eye. 

 Covering the flashlight's beam just enough so that it wasn’t too obvious, Tommy slowly began trudging through the snow towards the light, biting down on the way pain flared up his leg.

  It was a bunker, he realized, hope filling his thoughts. It was half buried in snow, but it bore the characteristics of an underground survival bunker. 

  Those were hard to come by and a blessing to come across. 

 Only if you knew how to get in of course.

  Tommy dragged himself through the snow towards the bunker, his left ankle rendering itself practically useless at this point.

  He collapsed right in front of the bunker, his ankle suddenly giving out.

  Tommy lay like that, half buried in the snow, stunned. Letting out a sigh, he gathered himself and stood up, wincing at the way his ankle had become numb and prickly. 

  Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Tommy made his way to the enormous door of the bunker. 

  Raising a trembling hand, his flashlight in the other hand, he examined the door. From his pocket, he brought out a bit of wire and a couple of other things and got to work. 

  After a few minutes, the door hissed open by a tiny crack. Just enough for Tommy to slip through and nearly tumble through.

  He crawled inside and half collapsed face-first onto the floor, his ankle catching in the entrance and twisting again. Hissing in pain, he sat on the floor, holding his ankle gingerly.

  He shifted onto his knees, Tommy turned around and closed the bunker door before too much snow could get in. Grabbing onto one of the bolts of the door, the blond pulled himself up, his full weight now on his uninjured ankle. 

   He had entered into a sort of tunnel that wasn’t lit up at all, which suggested that Tommy was the only one here. The only source of light was coming from his flashlight which lay on the ground.

  He limped over to it, wincing slightly as he bent over to pick it up. Flipping it in his hand, Tommy moved to switch it off when he heard the tell-tale click of a gun. 

  His instincts taking over, he used his free hand to whip out his sword, flashlight poised as he turned around.

 He stumbled over his feet, having turned around with way too much force than necessary, nearly crashing into the concrete wall next to him.

  Blinking out the spots in his eyes that were caused by the pain in his ankle, he took in the sight of the man in front of him. 

  The first thing Tommy registered was that the guy was tall. And probably very strong as well. 

  The second thing Tommy noticed was the man’s pink hair, which made the blond frown in slight surprise, because who on earth got the time to dye their hair pink in the middle of the apocalypse?

  Then Tommy took in the big ass rifle pointed at him.

  “Who are you?” the man’s voice was low and threatening. His eyes were cold and calculating, narrowed in suspicion.

  Tommy’s reflexes kicked in, throwing his usual behaviour out the window.

  “Bitch who are you ?” Tommy glared at the other man, “and why’re you in my base?”

  The guy was stunned for a split second, confusion briefly flitting across his face, the gun lowering a little.

  That split second of surprise was enough for Tommy, who switched off the flashlight and tossed it in the opposite direction, everything turning pitch black. 

  Ignoring the confused “ heh?”  that came from the pink haired man, Tommy attempted to get away from the immediate firing range of the rifle, now that neither of them could see a thing. 

  Keyword being ‘attempted’.

 He took two steps forward before excruciating pain shot up his leg and caused him to collapse face first on the ground. He groaned, rolling over onto his back, stars and spots forming in his eyes, static buzzing in his ears, his nose feeling a little funny.

  “Tech?” he faintly heard someone say, “what’s happened?”

  “Someone broke in,” the gruff voice of the pink haired man, ‘Tech’, Tommy assumed, “he’s fallen down uh— somewhere, heard him fall. Dunno if he’s bitten but he’s armed with a sword.”

  “Wil could you get the lights, please? Tech, get back just in case.” Tommy shot up at that, wincing at the way his head spun. If whoever this Wil was switched on the lights, he’d be found out immediately. 

  Swallowing the rising feeling of nausea, Tommy staggered to his feet, leaning over to grab at the wall. He heard a third person ask what was going on.

  He thought this bunker was empty for fucks sake. 

  Head still spinning, Tommy repressed another wince, leaning on the wall to support his ankle. There seemed to be a little bit of confusion among the three people, which Tommy used to try and get away faster. 

  He felt something wet on his lips and chin, choosing to ignore it as he mustered the strength to take another step forward. 

  The pink guy, Tech, muttered something, his voice feeling slightly farther than before. Tommy assumed this meant that he had made significant progress away from the dude.

  Suddenly, bright yellow light flooded the tunnel they were in, causing Tommy to shut his eyes, the brightness hurting them.

  There was complete silence for a moment, the blond now extra aware of the fact that his chin was rather uncomfortably wet. 

  “What the fuck ?” 

  Tommy slowly pried his eyes open, squinting before his eyes adjusted to the light. Blinking rapidly, he realized that he in fact did not make any sort of progress away from anybody. 

  Pink guy had lowered his gun now, staring at him with increased confusion. In front of him was an older man who wore the ugliest bucket hat Tommy had ever laid eyes on. Behind both of them was a third dude with curly brown hair and round glasses, who was slightly taller than the pink guy, who was staring at Tommy with slight horror. 

  “Uh—” Bucket Hat guy started, Tommy fully expecting him to either attack him straight away or yell at him to get out, “mate you’re bleeding.”

  Well, he didn’t really expect that.

  His ankle wasn’t bleeding last he checked. Looking down, to check his ankle, he was met with a very red shirt that was supposed to be white. Bringing his hand up to his chin, he blinked in astonishment as it came back bloody. 

  “Huh. Wonder where that came from.” Was all he had to say.

  The guy with the glasses let out a noise that was similar to a squawk, while the other two just looked extra concerned. 

  “Anyways,” Tommy began, shifting his weight off the wall, “it was lovely meeting you fellas, but now I gotta go so erm—”

  He took his hand off the wall and took a step forward before collapsing again, this time hitting his head on the floor with a loud thud. 

  “Ow,” he muttered under his breath, his vision and hearing going foggy. He vaguely heard someone say something before his vision went dark.

  “—we’ve brought in with a complete stranger who knew how to break into here and you’re telling me everything’s fine? We don’t even have enough supplies for the three of us if he decides to stay. And why’d he break in here in the first place? This is the only occupied bunker in the entire forest. What are the chances this isn’t targeted?”

  “Well first of all that’s a literal child. And secondly, he’s injured and can’t walk without collapsing. What makes you think he’s gonna do anything? He didn’t even attack me when I found him. He was like half delirious as well so it’s probably just luck.”

  “Techno’s right. It’s not like he’s bitten either. We’ll just let him be here until he’s feeling better or whatever.” 

  Tommy heard the first person huff and walk off. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to let either of the other two men that he was awake. 

  After a moment of silence, he heard one of them say that they were ‘going to go talk to Wil’ and leave. 

  A few minutes passed, Tommy keeping his eyes determinedly shut. 

  “Kid I know you’re awake,” he heard the pink guy say, “you don’t have to pretend.”

  Tommy didn’t move or make a sound, choosing to stay like that stubbornly. The pink haired guy let out a sigh, the creak of a sofa following it. 

  After a while, Tommy slowly opened an eye, assuming the silence meant that the pink haired guy had left. Sitting up, he turned to the side, only to make direct eye contact with the man.

  The guy gave Tommy a deadpan look, sinking into the sofa he sat on, the springs creaking loudly.

  “Bitch,” the blond glared at the pink haired guy.

  The guy simply raised his eyebrow, looking just as deadpan as before. 

  “M’names Technoblade,” the guy said, “no need to call me bitch, child.”

  “One, that’s a shit name,” Tommy held up one finger, “two, I’m not a fucking child, I’m six-teen.”

  “Practically forty,” Technoblade drawled, “halfway to the grave even.” 

  Tommy glared at the guy a bit more, before swinging his legs off the sofa-type thing he was lying on. His ankle was bandaged, his toes barely peeking out from underneath all the gauze and cotton. He wiggled them a little before the sound of distant footsteps made him look up. 

  He looked around at the room they were in, as the footsteps came closer. It wasn’t exactly a room per se, but rather a section of the bunker divided through large white curtains that looked closer to bedsheets. They probably were bedsheets to be fair. 

  From a section behind Technoblade, where two bedsheets met each other, the guy with the ugly bucket hat that Tommy vaguely remembered entered, the third guy with the glasses following soon after.

  “Ah, you’re awake!” Bucket Hat exclaimed, “I was worried your various injuries would keep you unconscious longer.”

  Tommy frowned at that, ignoring what Glasses said under his breath that it’d be better for him to have been unconscious way longer.

  “How long was I out?” he asked, looking at Bucket Hat.

  “Er—” Bucket Hat looked down in thought, “about twelve hours give or take.”

  Tommy cursed under his breath. All his items that were scattered across that one bit in the forest were probably gone, buried deep under the snow caused by the snowstorm.

  Wait.

  The snowstorm.

  Tommy cursed again, pushing himself up, ignoring the way his ankle throbbed and the exclamation from both Technoblade and Bucket Hat.

  Pushing past Glasses who made no effort to stop him, Tommy made his way through the bunker, the layout somewhat familiar to him, considering the number of these scattered across the country.

  He went towards the entrance, not paying heed to the way Bucket Hat told him to slow down. His flashlight was still on the floor, still intact, from what he could see.

  Making his way up to the door, Tommy brought out his wires and magnets among other things, before making quick work of the door as the other three men came up behind him. 

  Stepping back as the bunker door hissed open once again, all four of them stared in varying amounts of shock and frustration as they took in the wall of snow that blocked the entrance from the top to bottom.

  Tommy stomped his good foot, turning around and walking back into the bunker, a frown prominent on his face. 

  He sat down on the sofa again, crossing his arms, his foot hurting a bit more than before. About five minutes later, Glasses came through the makeshift curtains, looking rather annoyed, followed by Technoblade.

  “What do you want?” Tommy said, looking at the two.

  Glasses looked at him for a moment, his expression one of clear exasperation while Technoblade simply stared.

  “We’re stuck in here just as much as you are,” Technoblade began, “I know you’re hurt and you’ve probably got a concussion among other things, but you’re gonna have to work with us here so that we can help you.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Tommy said stubbornly, “I don’t have a concussion and my ankle is fine .”

  Glasses rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed scoff. “Well if you’re completely fine like you’ve said, then you’re more than welcome to dig a tunnel through the wall of snow outside the door. Especially considering you know how to get in and out of here. Our supplies are diminished enough as it is.”

  “Fine then,” Tommy spat, “I’ll be out of your nonexistent hair then.”

  While Glasses let out an offended gasp, going off about how he has hair, Tommy tried to stand up, only for his ankle to send stabbing pain up his leg. Wincing slightly, he tried to start forward, only for Technoblade to step in front of Glasses and move towards him.

  Tommy swayed on his feet for a moment before Technoblade picked him up, eliciting a shout from the younger male.

  “Kid, you can’t walk,” Technoblade deadpanned, while Tommy flailed around in his arms, “stay in bed.”

  “I’m not a kid.”

  “Alright grandpa,” Tommy saw Technoblade roll his eyes as he tried to wiggle out of the other’s grasp, “to bed you go.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Technoblade sighed, dropping Tommy onto the sofa bed and putting a blanket on him. Tommy, momentarily confused by the sudden appearance of the blanket, scrambled about before his head poked out from under the covers.

  Bucket Hat had returned now, holding some kind of box. Glasses looked a little grumpy while Technoblade just looked tired.

  “Hey mate,” Bucket Hat said with a small smile, to which Tommy glared at him, “I didn’t get to do a proper introduction ‘cause y’know.”

  Tommy simply stared at Bucket Hat, thinking about the various methods he could use to destroy that ugly hat.

  “I’m Phil,” Bucket Hat, Phil apparently, who pointed at Technoblade and Glasses, “you’ve already met Techno and that’s Wilbur.”

  Phil looked at Tommy expectantly after that, the boy realizing that he was expected to introduce himself.

  With a sigh, he said, “I’m Tommy.”

  “Fitting name for a child,” Glasses— no, Wilbur, coughed under his breath. 

  Tommy turned his head to look at Wilbur, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

  “At least it’s better than fuckin’ Wilbur,” Tommy snarled, the blanket covering half his face, “pretentious ass name. And I’m not a child, we’ve gone over this already.”

  “Oh yeah?” Wilbur retorted “well how old are you then?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Wilbur blinked for a moment, Technoblade rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tommy didn’t look over to see Phil’s expression.

  “You are,” Wilbur said, enunciating each word, “a child.”

  “Not.” Tommy retorted.

  “Are so.”

  “Am not.”

  “Child”

  “Old ass bitch.”

  “Gremlin.

  “Bald.”

  “Boys,” Phil said, sounding rather exasperated. Tommy stuck his tongue out at Wilbur, who looked one second away from tackling the blond.

  Tommy shifted around on the sofa so that he could see Phil as well as the other two.

  “I don’t like him very much,” he said, pointing at Wilbur, “he’s a dickhead.”

  “Well I don’t like you very much either,” Wilbur retorted.

  “Boys,” Phil interrupted before the two could start arguing again, “no more fighting.”

  Wilbur stuck his tongue out at Tommy, who flipped him off in response.

  “Okay now,” Phil began, “we’re completely snowed in. I’ve checked every emergency exit as well and they’re all blocked off.”

  “Did you check the one that leads to an underground tunnel which then takes you up into a fake tree thing through which you can leave?” Tommy asked, slowly sitting up.

  “That one caved in last week during an earthquake,” Technoblade replied, “we’ve been working on clearin’ it but it’s takin’ ages.”

  “So we’re all stuck here until the snow recedes?” Wilbur said, sitting down on the floor.

  “Pretty much,” Phil responded, leaning against the wall.

  “And how long would that be?” the brunet questioned.

  “About three to four days  if there isn’t any more snow.”

  “It’s not the snow we have to worry about,” Tommy said, biting his lip in thought.

  “What do you mean?” Technoblade asked.

  “Snowstorms last maybe like two days at most,” the blond explained, “extensive hailstorms follow them and if our luck is really bad then we’ll have to deal with acid rain as well.”

  “So  basically we’re stuck in here for a week?”

  “Two and a half at least.”

  “Do we have the supplies for that?” Wilbur looked at Phil whose expression was grim.

  “Barely enough to last us a week if we ration it properly.”

  “And you don’t have anything?” Wilbur looked at Tommy who patted his many pockets in response.

  While Tommy searched his many many pockets, the other three discussed rationing. He felt something round and hard in a pocket near his knee. He pulled out a small cloth drawstring bag and stared at it for a moment before remembering what it was with a slight jolt.

  “Hey um—” he interrupted the ongoing discussion, “do you guys have one of those old greenhouse rooms? I’ve got these.”

  Technoblade narrowed his eyes at the bag that dangled from the blond’s hand. 

  “Are those—”

  “Seeds?” Tommy opened the bag, “yeah. Which kind, I dunno. They are some kinda vegetable though.”

  “Where’d you get them?” Phil questioned, slight suspicion in his eyes, “last I checked you only get them in the bigger cities with—”

  “Facilities,” Tommy finished for him, “yeah I stole this and a few others from one that was shut down. Those were in my bag but I kinda lost them.”

  “You stole from a shut down facility?” Wilbur somehow managed to sound alarmed and suspicious at the same time, “and survived?”

  “Clearly.”

  “Well we do have a greenhouse lab,” Phil began, “I don’t know if it works.”

  “If it doesn’t work, I can fix it,” Tommy pocketed the bag of seeds, “I’ll need time, however.”

  “Techno or I can help,” Wilbur said.

  “You wouldn’t be able to.” Tommy began checking his pockets for more seed bags.

  “Well, then we’ll keep watch.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m old enough to be unsupervised.” Tommy looked at the other with a glare.

  “I don’t trust you to use it for our good as well as yours,” Wilbur said, crossing his arms. Techno whacked the brunet on the arm in response. “What? He broke into our base, threatened you with a sword and is now apparently smart enough to enter and exit an unabandoned facility without getting either bitten by a zombie or shot down by the still active defences. Who’s to say he isn’t waiting for the right time to kill us?”

  “Me because I personally wouldn’t like being trapped in a 21st century bunker with three rotting bodies for a week,” Tommy said drily, “I’ll give Technoblade half of the seeds if you’d like. Not giving you any though. I don’t trust bald people.”

  Technoblade, who frankly looked very annoyed right now, put his hand on Wilbur’s mouth, muffling the latter’s protests. 

 “If you can fix up the greenhouse, I’ll help with the seeds,” Technoblade said after a moment, retracting his hand from Wilbur’s face and wiping it on his pant, cringing slightly, “I’ve planted carrot seeds from one of those facilities before and grew the carrots or whatever so I know what to do.”

  Tommy nodded in agreement at that. Seeds like the kind he had were crazily important and heavily guarded with multiple traps in facilities that had more defences than a prison did. The fact that he managed to get seeds from an abandoned one which was infinitely more dangerous than a regular functioning facility that the government still had a hold on was insane and Tommy knew that.

  Although he managed to pull off this insane heist of genetically modified seeds, he forgot to grab a growing manual so he slowly brought out the drawstring bag and tipped it over a little into Technoblade’s now outstretched hand, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to grow them on his own without losing at least half of them.

  It’s not like he trusted these three guys, he hadn’t the slightest ounce of trust in them but then again, considering he was given free rein of the greenhouse part of the bunker, maybe he’d be able to keep an eye on their potential source of food under the pretence of repairing the greenhouse.

  Technoblade turned over a tiny seed in his hand, squinting at it while Wilbur and Phil stared at the dozen or so seeds in his other hand. 

  Tommy counted the seeds left in the bag while Technoblade examined the ones with him. He had about twenty left which was good for him if he managed to break into a truly empty bunker. 

  “Potato,” Technoblade announced, fingers curling over the seeds in his palm.

  “—What?” Wilbur asked, confused, Tommy feeling the same as they all looked at the pink haired man.

  “Potato seeds,” Technoblade clarified, “no clue how long these kind will take to grow though. The carrots I grew were ready to harvest within four or so days.”

  “Four?” Wilbur sounded incredulous, “that’s a bit quick don’t you think?”

  “Developing vegetables that can grow really fast for the welfare of the world was one of those facilities specialities,” Phil explained, “that and accidentally causing the apocalypse.”

  “We love a multi-talented facility,” Wilbur muttered, “anyways, I’m gonna go take inventory of all our food. Phil, you should check the medical supplies, especially if Tommy’s gonna need them now that he’s here as well.”

  “I don’t need any medical help,” Tommy grumbled in response, “I just need to know where the greenhouse cellar is and your tools and shit.”

  “Mate you have a concussion plus a sprained ankle that could be broken. And if you were outside in the snow any longer before breaking in we’d have had to cut off your ankle,” Phil raised an eyebrow as Tommy buried himself under the blanket, curling up on the sofa.

  “Whatever,” the blond muttered, adjusting his position so that he was lying down on the sofa.

  “You’re gonna rest today,” Technoblade said, turning away from Tommy to rummage in a box near Wilbur’s feet, “work on the greenhouse tomorrow. I’ll see how many things need to be fixed as well.”

  Tommy opened his mouth to protest when something soft made contact with his face. Picking it off his face, he realized Technoblade had tossed him a second blanket.

  “What the fuck.”

   “Sleep,” the older man drawled, “get the rest.”

  With that he left, Phil and Wilbur following. Wilbur looked back at Tommy, suspicion clear on his face. The blond simply turned around, his back to the man.

  Clang!

  Tommy jerked awake, sitting upright, the woollen blanket sticking to his face. Looking around, his heart racing, he made eye contact with a rather apologetic looking Wilbur. 

  He squinted, still reeling from the sudden noise. On the ground was a wrench, clearly the sound of the noise. 

  “Were you gonna try an’ bash me heads in?” Tommy mumbled, rubbing his eyes as Wilbur began vehemently denying this fact.

  “Of course not!”

  “Then why do you have a wrench ‘ere?” Tommy peered up at Wilbur, turning so that he could sit properly.

  “I needed it!”

  “To bash my head in.”

  “No! Tools are in this box and I needed it outside.”

  “Right,” Tommy nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing, “and I’m a duck.”

  “What?”

  At that moment, Technoblade walked in, ducking under the curtains. 

  “Technoblade your friend was gonna bash my heads in,” Tommy said, his tone whiny as he pointed at Wilbur.

  “No I fucking wasn’t!”

  “Wilbur stop trying to kill Tommy.”

  “I wasn’t going to!”

  “Uh huh,” Technoblade nodded before turning to face Tommy while Wilbur spluttered, “are you feelin’ better now? You’ve been out maybe four hours now. Phil said you and I can check out the greenhouse if you feel up to it.”

  “I feel fine bossman,” Tommy pushed the blankets to the side, when did he get three? , “obviously the attempt on my life was a bit daunting but nothing a zombie hasn’t done before.”

  “For the last time I didn’t— wait a zombie tried to bash your head in with a wrench?”

  “Yep!” Tommy said cheerily, “what makes you think the zombies that live in an abandoned facility aren’t armed?”

  Wilbur looked slightly horrified, choosing to pick up his wrench and leave instead of replying.

  Tommy stood up, completely forgetting the reason his ankle was elevated by pillows that he didn’t remember putting there. 

  Before his face could make contact with the concrete floor, Technoblade caught him by the shoulders and hoisted him upright.

  “Bruh,” was all Technoblade had to say while Tommy blinked in surprise, processing the fall.

  “To the greenhouse, we go,” Tommy said after a moment of silence, scrambling out of Technoblade’s grip and moving towards the curtains.

  Technoblade let out a sigh and picked up the boy who let out a squawk of surprise. 

  “What the fuck!” Tommy screeched, “lemme down!”

  “You can’t walk, your ankle is swollen and we gotta put it in a brace once Phil assesses the damage.”

  “Yes I can fuckin’ walk,” Tommy tried rolling out of Technoblade’s arms, and failing, “don’t sigh all disappointedly at me! I’m a big man and I can walk!”

  “How,” Technoblade sounded bored.

  “Spite,” Tommy responded with no hesitation.

  Technoblade let out another sigh and turned around starting to walk out of the small makeshift room they were in. Tommy slumped down in the other’s arms once he realized the struggle was futile.

  After a few minutes, he was hit with the smell of dirt.  

  Twisting around in Technoblade’s arms, Tommy squinted at the familiar translucent glass doors, slightly cracked open, the room inside pitch dark.

  “Can you let me down now,” he asked, his tone bored.

  Technoblade let out a grunt, reaching out with his foot to slide open one door. He ducked under the doorframe and set Tommy down on a seat. The blond sat there while Technoblade looked for the light switch.

  With a click, the room was flooded with harsh yellow light. Tommy looked around at the marble counters and bags of dirt that sat in rectangular boxes. A few long dead plants were in their pots, bent over and wilted brown. Cabinets lined the wall, the whole set-up reminiscent of Tommy’s old middle school science lab. At the far end of the room was an area closed off, the only entrance a small door.

  Or the glass window in the middle of the division. 

  That was where the prepped seeds were to be planted. 

  “So uh,” Tommy looked over at Technoblade who was frowning at the various things in confusion and thought, “what exactly do you have to do?”

  “Didn’t you grow carrots or whatever?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

  “Well yeah, but that wasn’t in one of these bunkers,” Technoblade reached under the marble counter and brought out a type of stand, “we did it in a house and improvised in the kitchen.”

  “Huh,” Tommy nodded, before using the counter near him to push himself up, leaning on it to stabilize himself, “well then with the help of an actual greenhouse we’ll have these potatoes potato-ing in no time.”

  “Potato-ing?” Technoblade sounded amused.

  “Yep!” Tommy hobbled towards the glass box type things and began taking out the bags of dirt.

  He didn’t look back at the other man to see his expression. Tommy opened one of the bags of dirt, taking out a large bowl from the cabinet overhead. From the corner of his eye, he could see Technoblade watch what he was doing with slight interest. 

  He dumped the entire bag, about the size of his hand, in the bowl. After a minute of rummaging in various cabinets, he found a pair of gloves, a magnifying glass and a lamp. 

  Setting up the lamp, he stepped back as Technoblade came closer. The older man took the gloves from him and pulled them on.

  “I’ll check if the dirt is okay to use,” Technoblade said, “you make sure the growing area is functional.”

  With a nod, Tommy limped over to the end of the room. The glass window, like every other glass item here, was filthy and smudged with dirt.

  Tommy wrestled with the doorknob for a few minutes before yanking the door open. The place was clearly used before. Not by Technoblade or Phil or Wilbur.  Someone before them maybe. 

  Dead rotting plants lay in rows and rows of dirt. They were clearly plants of the same variety of seeds that Tommy had stolen, considering they were the kind to take decades to properly decompose. The entire place was a mess.

  Tommy stepped over the piles of dirt and plants, keeping an eye out for any seeds that can be reused. He went towards the left wall where a bunch of control panels on a large table were. Flicking a switch, the room was lit up with bright white light. 

  After messing around with the controls for a bit, Tommy managed to get the brightness of the light down to an acceptable level that didn’t make him feel like he was being blinded by the sun. 

  With a wince, he got down on his knees and began checking the control table for damage. He didn’t see much damage aside from the slowly developing rust and dirt that was just everywhere.

  The amount of mess the entire greenhouse was in, confused Tommy. Greenhouses were meant to be neat and clean to ensure the proper growth of the plants. At least that’s what he had been told. 

  “Tommy?” he turned around to see Technoblade looking in from the door, “the dirt and chemicals are in good condition. Is that thing alright?”

  “Uh yeah,” Tommy nodded, “this place needs a major cleanup, however.”

  “Clearly,” Technoblade let out a laugh, “do you wanna start to clean up now?”

  “Um—” Tommy looked around, scrunching his nose up in thought, “you start with the lab outside, I’ll test the control panel then we can start with the farm.”

  “Will you be okay doing the control panel alone?” Technoblade asked, stepping inside, “if it bugs out that could be dangerous.”

  “I mean,” Tommy shrugged, “yeah,  I suppose.”

  “I’ll help then,” Technoblade offered, walking up to him and sitting down on his right, “that way if something starts to go wrong it’ll be easier to fix it.”

  “Okay,” Tommy nodded, “You start with that end with the water controls. Oh shoot we need to check the water lines and if the water is good enough for the plants”

  “Tommy we’re literally snowed in just take a cup and scoop out some of the snow,” Technoblade deadpanned, “bam, you’ve got water.”

  Tommy gaped at the other man before laughing. Technoblade let out a snort before the two got down to work, firing lighthearted quips at each other, the atmosphere surrounding them getting more comfortable as both of them slowly began to lower their guard.

  Turned out, that the control panel was completely fine. The redstone that helped work the farm, however—

  “The system is completely and utterly fucked.” Tommy announced from where he stood aka a hole in the dirt in the middle of the farm where the redstone connected.

  “Phil is better at redstone than I am,” Techno said, walking over to the edge of the hole in which Tommy stood, “once he’s done with whatever he’s doing, we can get him.” 

  “Can’t you fix it?” Tommy looked up at the older man.

  “Well if we want it to not work then yes.” 

  Tommy let out a sigh, looking around at the tiny room he was in. The place was discovered by complete accident when Techno fell through the dirt and into the place that was clearly built to keep the redstone untouched. Tommy hadn’t known it was redstone that kept the farms up and running. He knew a bit of how it worked however and climbed down into the room to check it out.

  The system was too complex for either of them to understand, they realized after a few minutes, deciding to start the cleanup and wait for Phil.

  Once they finished the farm area, they moved into the greenhouse lab, Tommy arranging the stuff while Techno went to look for the small trays that they could use for saplings. They began to work once Techno found the things he was looking for.

  Apparently, for the seeds to work properly, you needed to douse them in some chemical mixture. Considering the apocalypse was caused when they were in the middle of experimentation, the things required for it to be activated weren’t really known to the public.

  “How do you know what it needs to soak in?” Tommy asked, setting up a stand with glass bottles and test tubes.

  “Experimentation and lots of accidents.”

  “Huh,” Tommy raised his eyebrows, “anyways what do I have to do next?”

  Techno looked over at what he was doing and then at the various beakers filled with chemicals.

  “Take this one and add a little into the third beaker,” he said, giving Tommy a beaker.

 “I don’t understand why they have to soak it in chemicals,” Tommy said pouring a little bit of the blue liquid in, “Weren’t these things for creating healthier and faster plants and food?”

  “Who said they wanted it to be healthy?”

  “What?”

  “If it weren’t for the apocalypse, they'd have done this exact thing and sold it while we would have no clue what they’ve done for the advancement of the scientific world in the food sector.”

  Tommy blinked in astonishment before looking up at Techno. “Those were one too many big words bossman.”

  Techno sighed, “They’d do this and give it to you without saying so and you’d believe them.”

  “Scandalous.”

  “Mhm.”

  Tommy was about to go back to his work when the doors slammed open. The two jumped out of their seats, Tommy immediately chucking the nearest thing at the newcomer.

  Aka Wilbur. 

  And the nearest thing being a knife.

  The brunet ducked out of the way, the knife whizzing past his head and clattering onto the ground.

  “What the fuck?” Wilbur squawked.

  “Good throw,” Techno muttered, “why’re you here Wil?”

  “You’ve been down here seven hours,” Wilbur said, looking all ruffled, “thought something happened. Also Phil’s tryna see what we can whip up for dinner.”

  “We’ll be there in fifteen,” Techno said, “after we finish prepping the seeds.”

  “Uhm—” Wilbur glanced around the room, “yeah okay sure. I’ll let Dad know.”

  And with that, he left.

  “Wait—” Tommy frowned, “Dad?”

  “Phil is Wilbur and my dad?” Techno said, as if it was obvious, “Wilbur is my twin brother?”

  “Phil, Wilbur and you are what now?”

  “Related?”

  “What the fuck.”

  The next few days were uneventful, Tommy sticking to Techno like glue, tagging along to wherever the older man went.

  On the fourth day, however, Techno told Tommy to do something else since it was time for harvesting their experimental batch of potatoes. 

  Tommy couldn't help with that process since he had, what Phil declared, a broken ankle. 

  So he decided to go find Phil, hobbling through the corridors that connected the largest room where he was sleeping.

  He found Phil whittling away at long branches, shaping them into something long and sharp.

  Apparently, he had decided that today was weapon making day. 

  The man was kind enough to give Tommy a smaller piece of wood and show him how to chip away at the end, creating a pointy sharp end.

  “Before the apocalypse, I used to do a lot of carving and whittling,” Phil said in response to Tommy asking him where he picked up this skill.

  “Huh,” Tommy nodded, “before the apocalypse, I was bullied in school.”

  “I’m— sorry?”

  “It's okay they're all zombies now.”

  “That’s— good?”

  “Mhm. Anyways you make arrows as well? Is that what the metal scraps were?”

  “Yep,” Phil handed him one of the arrows that were already made, “I crafted a shaft type thing and then Techno helped make the arrow tips. None of us had a sword like you did so we had to make our own.”

  “L.”

  “Don’t ‘L’ me,” Phil rolled his eyes, “where did you get your sword? Especially one like that”

  “British Museum.”

  “From the what?”

  “The British Museum surprisingly isn’t built for the apocalypse,” Tommy chipped away at the piece of wood in his hands, “stole some guy’s sword. The place has shit defences for a place with valuable stuff.”

  “Huh, that’s weird.”

  “You’re so right Philza Minecraft.”

  “What.”

  “Phil is a boring name and you craft the stuff like in the hit video game Minecraft.”

  “I— okay?”

  “You’re a cool guy,” Tommy nodded, “unlike Wilbur though, he’s a bald bitch.”

   “Bruh.”

  By the time they were done, Techno entered the room, looking triumphant, Wilbur trailing behind him. In their hands were lumps of dirt that Tommy recognized as potatoes.

  Phil and Tommy gaped at the two as they were handed each a potato. The two stood up, the younger boy examining the vegetable closely.

  “So they work? The seeds I mean,” Tommy looked up at Techno who nodded.

  “We’ve planted the other seeds we found from the old plants right now to see what they are. Hopefully, it’s a kind of vegetable other than potatoes.”

  “Holy shit Techno this is great!” Phil exclaimed, “both you and Tommy did well.”

  Tommy grinned at that before handing the potato back to Techno. 

  “What—?”

  “What makes you think I can cook bossman?” Tommy sat back down, “I was thirteen when the apocalypse began.”

  Wilbur snorted at that, before shutting up at the glare he received from Tommy. 

  Techno left the room, saying that he was gonna try and see what all he can make from the potatoes harvested and then check on the mystery plants growing in the greenhouse.

  On day five, Techno needed Phil’s help with something to do with the mystery plant, leaving Tommy to pester Wilbur much to the chagrin of both of them. 

  They were told to go down to the tunnel that had caved in and work on clearing out some of the rubble in case they needed to escape from there. 

  It took exactly two minutes for the tunnel to begin to echo with the two’s bickering.

  “Well obviously if we stack it behind us we’re gonna be stuck down here.”

  “Well then where else are we gonna keep it Tommy? To the side?”

  “Obviously!”

  They moved the rocks and rubble away from the big wall and into their respective piles because they refused to share a pile of rocks. 

  “No that’s not how you carry a rock—”

  “There are ways to carry rocks!?”

  Eventually, they managed to make a decent sized hole in the wall of rubble, Tommy promptly deciding he wanted to climb through. 

  Wilbur, cursing and swearing climbed after Tommy, a tangle of limbs stuck in the hole. Both of them, however, did not realize how low the drop was on the other side, falling on top of one another.

  Surprisingly, Tommy’s ankle stayed intact, much to the relief of both boys. 

 They were faced with a bigger problem now though, as the two turned around only to be faced with another pile of rubble,

  “Did you forget that the tunnel goes downwards?” Tommy asked Wilbur who kicked a stray stone in his path, “it’s why I gave you the rope you idiot. To pull me out in case this exact situation occurs!”

  “Well— I— er—” Wilbur stumbled over his words as Tommy looked up at the hole they had dug out. It was at least a head taller than Wilbur or him which meant that they’d need some kind of boost to get climb back out.

  Tommy tried to grab onto a bit of rock and hoist himself up, only for the rock to fall out of place and send Tommy stumbling back into Wilbur.

  “What the fuck Tommy!” Wilbur said, catching Tommy so that neither of them fell.

  “So climbing clearly isn’t an option,” Tommy staggered a bit before steadying himself. 

  “That could be one of the loose rocks,” Wilbur stepped around Tommy and towards the rubble wall, “doesn’t mean they’re all dangerous.”

  With that the taller man reached out towards a bigger rock only for that to fall out of place as well, taking a bunch of rubble down with it as well.

  Tommy gave Wilbur an ‘I told you so’ look before turning towards the second wall and examining it.

  “What’s this one gonna do?” Wilbur stepped up to stand beside him, dusting his pants.

  “Seems thicker than the first one,” Tommy hummed, “Maybe find a big rock that we can use as a stepping stool? Unless you wanna let me climb on your back then hoist you up.”

  “Big rock.”

  “Alright then.”

  After about an hour of struggle, the two collapsed to the floor, fully exhausted, covered in dirt and dust. 

  “We’re never getting out of here,” Wilbur lamented.

  “Well if you let me use you as a stepping stool maybe we’d be getting somewhere.”

  “We’re never ever getting out of here.”

  “Dude shut up” Tommy groaned, burying his face in his hands, “Techno’ll get us both out.”

  “If you don’t kill me before that he will,” Tommy looked up to see Wilbur peering at him through cracked glasses.

  “For the last time, I’m not gonna kill you.”

  “You could,” Wilbur shrugged, “you’re a dangerous child.”

  “If you keep annoying me I might just.”

  After about half an hour, both of the boys sat on the floor in silence, exhaustion pulling at their eyelids. They weren’t sure when Phil or Techno would be coming to check on them but till then they were stuck down in the tunnel.

  “So,” Tommy began, looking over at Wilbur, “is that actually your hair or did you glue a wig to your scalp.”

  “It’s my real hair,” Wilbur tugged at a bit, “see.”

  “So you’re not bald?” 

  “Nope,” Wilbur responded, popping the ‘p’.

  “Huh. Also how old are you? Techno says twenty five,” Tommy questioned.

  “He’s right,” the other man replied tiredly.

  “Hmm,” Tommy squinted at the other’s face, “nah there’s no way. You look like you’re forty and nothing like Techno.”

  “One, I look twenty five thank you very much. And two, have you never heard of fraternal twins? Or learnt about them?”

  “—No? I graduated middle school English or whatever.”

  “What the shit that’s not a real thing?”

  “Is it? I dunno I was like thirteen or something and I didn’t finish school because someone decided to let a bunch of viruses loose.”

  “Fair.”

  “What were you doing when the apocalypse hit?”

  “Um—” Wilbur frowned in thought, “I was playing a song on my guitar for my friends in the park.”

  “That’s pretty specific,” Tommy muttered, “where are they now?”

  “Your friends.”

  “I er—” Wilbur looked rather sad, “I don’t know to be honest. I hope they’re okay. Or not zombies at least.”

  “That’s fair. My best friend became a zombie. Wasn’t pog.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s when I decided I needed a weapon,” Tommy said, pushing the memories of the initial shock of the apocalypse behind, “so I broke into the British Museum.”

  “You what”

  “It’s quite easy did you know?”

  “I did not??”

  “Unfortunate for you to be fair. I grabbed a lot of things from there.”

  “That’s— great?” Wilbur looked a bit bewildered.

  “Mhm,” Tommy nodded, “are you sure that’s not a wig?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  “Man.”

  By the time Techno found them, shining a flashlight through the crudely dug out hole, yelling their names, Tommy realized that Wilbur actually wasn’t half bad. 

  Still an annoying bitch. But he was quite alright, Tommy supposed as Techno pulled the two of them out of the hole, Phil immediately beginning to fuss over the two of them. 

  The two were practically half asleep, the excitement and exhaustion of the day pulling them down deep. Tommy was scooped up by Techno and Wilbur by Phil who was, to Tommy’s surprise, very strong.

  “Did you know Wilbur doesn’t have a wig,” Tommy whispered to Techno as they left the entrance to the “secret” entrance, “that’s his real hair.”

  “Horrifying isn’t it.”

  “You’re so right all the time Technoblade.”

  “Thanks Tommy.”

  “My favourite ever,” Tommy declared, throwing his head back, “Techno of the Blade.”

  “That’s— new,” Techno said after a moment. 

  “Mhm,” Tommy rested his head on Techno’s chest as they passed through the corridors to the place where they were sleeping. 

  Now that Tommy and Wilbur weren’t as hostile with each other as they usually were, it became easier for all four of them to do things regarding the bunker and rationing of food. 

  The mystery seeds turned out to be radishes. Tommy leaned over to pluck a bright red radish from the dirt when Techno had turned around. 

  “Radishes and potatoes,” Wilbur mused looking at the plant in Tommy’s hand, “next thing you know we’re boiling water with a stone.”

  “What?” Tommy looked at Wilbur like he was going crazy.

  “Have you never heard of the stone soup story?” Wilbur looked alarmed.

  “No??”

  “What the fuck,” the brunet gasped, “Techno stop what you’re doing we’re having storytime.”

  “What?” Techno turned around, clearly confused.

  “Young Tommy here doesn’t know what the stone soup story is.”

  “Heh?” Techno sounded so offended that it made Tommy want to apologize, “call Phil we’re having story time.”

  Which was how Tommy found himself doused in blankets,  a bowl of warm and bland mashed potatoes shoved into his hands, Phil opposite him, Techno and Wilbur on either side.

  It took him about three stories of various tales he never even heard about for sleep to tug at his brain, pulling him under. 

  His last thought before he fell completely asleep, mashed potatoes tilting to the side was—

  This is nice. Safe. It’s nice to know how it feels to be safe.

  It’s gonna be difficult to leave.

  It was on Day Fifteen that Phil came back from his daily morning inspection with good news.

 “The ice and snow are melting,” Phil said, pulling off his gloves, “we could try and dig ourselves out unless you wanna wait.”

  “How would we dig and get out though?” Tommy said, not looking up from where he was trying to balance a cup on Wilbur’s head. 

  “I can see a tiny opening.”

  “You what?” Wilbur’s head snapped up to face Phil, causing the steel cup to fall to the ground with a clatter.

  “It’s too far up for either of us to reach but maybe by tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, it’ll be a big enough gap to start clearing out the snow from our side. The gap is at the extreme top though so it could also be a week or something.”

  “Lemme see,” Tommy said standing up. His ankle had healed almost completely now, allowing him to stay on his feet for longer without anything hurting. 

  He followed Phil out to the entrance of the bunker, the door that reached from the ceiling to the floor half shut.

  “You didn’t close it completely?” Tommy said, looking up at the wall of snow. The door, when opened, would slide vertically upwards until stopped. 

  Right now, it was half shut from the top, the bottom half still covered in snow. 

  “Yeah, I figured one of you might wanna see the opening at the top and the bottom half is practically impenetrable so…” Phil trailed off.

  “Mhm,” Tommy went over to the control panel of the door, something he hadn’t seen at first when he had initially stepped foot into the bunker. Jabbing a few buttons, the door began to hiss and slide, gears creaking until the entire door had disappeared. 

  At the very top, sunlight peeped through a small gap in the snow. It wasn’t much but it was enough. Tommy grinned, letting out a small laugh. 

  “It’s still gonna take time for the snow to melt,” Phil said gently, Techno and Wilbur entering the entrance area, “maybe another four to five days.”

  “Maybe sooner,” Tommy said, looking at them, eyes shining slightly at the prospect of not having to stay cooped up in this bunker anymore, “last I checked it took a month to completely stop and recede. It’s been only fifteen days and we’re already seeing an opening!”

  “Fifteen days?” Wilbur questioned, looking up at the gap that was maybe ten feet above them.

  “Mhm,” Tommy nodded, bouncing on his feet.

  “You counted?” the brunet asked, sounding a bit sad.

  “Yep!” the boy affirmed, not noticing how Wilbur’s face fell at the very same thing Tommy was excited about, “helps me keep track of the days plus I’ll know how long I’ve stayed here when I leave.”

  “You’re gonna leave?” Techno asked, interrupting what Wilbur was about to say.

  “Of course I am,” Tommy was confused, “isn’t that what we decided?”

  Techno’s expression was something Tommy couldn’t pin while Wilbur said nothing, choosing to push past Phil and back inside. 

  Phil looked at Wilbur as he left before looking back at an extremely bewildered Tommy, the older man’s expression a bit saddened. 

  The rest of the day was a bit of a blur for Tommy, Wilbur avoiding him much to his confusion. He didn’t know what exactly it was that he had said but clearly it was enough for the older man to try and skirt around him while Phil just gave him a rather strained smile.

  One day turned into two days and then five. 

  Tommy was getting restless and slightly irritated now, the snow receding moderately fast. Techno didn’t give much of an explanation for Wilbur’s behaviour but he acted normally with the blond, unlike his brother. 

  On day eight of silent treatment from Wilbur, Tommy cracked, slamming down the book he was reading with a thud.

  Techno looked up with a raised eyebrow from the piece of wood he was fiddling with, “What’d ‘The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ do to you? Especially my copy.”

  “What’s up with Wilbur?” Tommy looked Techno in the eyes, ignoring what the other said, “why’s he been avoiding me?”

  Techno was silent for a moment, seemingly mulling over his answer.

  “Do you want the easy answer or the difficult one?” the man said eventually.

  “What’s the easy one?”

  “He’s angry.”

  “And the difficult one?”

  “Are you sure you wanna know?”

  “Just tell me Tech,” Tommy pressed.

  “He got attached.” That was not the answer the blond was expecting. “He got attached just like we all did and now he thinks that you don’t care and are just gonna up and leave once the snow melts enough for you to go.”

  “Oh,” Tommy said, looking down.

  “Yeah,” Techno said bluntly, “Phil feels the same.”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what?” It was Techno’s turn to be confused.

  “Do you feel the same?” Tommy dared to look back up at Techno, “that I don’t care about you guys? That you guys caring is just one sided?”

  “You don’t deny the leaving bit,” Techno said.

  “And you’re avoiding the question.”

  Techno sighed, standing up, choosing not to reply.

  “Answer the question Techno,” Tommy stood up as well, spinning around to face the other man who began to leave.

  “What do you think the answer is?” Techno turned around.

  “Does it matter?” Tommy shot back.

  At that Techno faltered, turning back towards the door.

  “Not really,” he said quietly.

  “Then what does?” Tommy crossed his arms.

  “It matters that you should know that if you don’t wanna leave then you’ll always be welcome to stay with us.”

  That night, Tommy was unable to sleep, going over what Techno had said in his head. He tossed and turned in the creaky sofa that had now become his bed, ignoring the soft snores that came from Wilbur.

  He counted the seconds that ticked by in his head, soon turning into minutes and hours. After what felt like forever, he sighed and sat up. 

  Padding quietly into the storage room, he shifted a few things and brought out the bag he had been secretly been packing his stuff in.

  “You’ll always be welcome to stay here with us."

  Ignoring Techno’s words echoing in his head, Tommy reached into his pocket, feeling for the tiny bag of radish seeds he had managed to swipe. 

  Placing it in the bag, he quickly closed everything up, hiding the bag once again. He looked at a clock type contraption Phil had made, realizing that it was around four in the morning.

  I’ll leave tomorrow at dawn. It’ll do no good for me to stay here any longer and leech off these guys' resources. If it weren’t for the potatoes and radishes we’d all be dead. They don’t even have any medical supplies left.

  Tommy sighed as his thoughts flew by, formulating a plan for his departure. He supposed it’d be better for him to leave before the others woke up. Only after he checked that he had everything he needed of course.

  He was gonna have to go find where his sword was kept, Tommy and Wilbur using it for some kind of thing down in the greenhouse.

  As he entered the sleeping area again, Tommy looked at the others' peaceful faces. 

  He would leave tomorrow, he decided as he settled back down on the sofa, he was going to leave the bunker at dawn and get out of these three people’s hair.

  Tommy woke up to the smell of something burning. 

  Shooting upright he looked around in alarm, making eye contact with Phil who also seemed to have just woken up. Techno and Wilbur were nowhere to be found.

  The two scrambled out of their covers and rushed towards the smell of smoke. They turned the corner to see Wilbur holding a bowl full of burnt potatoes.

  “What the fuck?” Phil and Tommy said in unison.

  “So um—” Wilbur began as Techno appeared behind him with another bowl full of burnt potatoes, “we kinda made a teeny mistake.”

 As it turned out, Wilbur was trying to make breakfast and decided that he wanted to have roasted potatoes. Something he had never tried making before. 

  So he lit a fire and tried various ways of cooking the potatoes. 

  Techno arrived after a while to see Wilbur on his third failed attempt and decided to help. Which lead Tommy and Phil to see the results of all ten attempts by either of them.

  “You know you could’ve just woken me up right?” Phil said looking at the damage caused on the stove.

  “I mean— yeah?” Wilbur said sheepishly.

  “Whatever now you’re getting radishes and the bits of the potatoes that aren’t as burnt as the others.”

  “Aw Dad c’mon—”

  “Can I have the other burnt parts then?” Tommy asked, poking at the charred vegetable with a finger. 

  “Wh—why would you want that?” Techno looked horrified.

  “Yummy.”

  “Tommy what the shit.”

  Tommy looked at Wilbur in the eyes before putting the entire steaming hot burnt to an extreme crisp potato in his mouth. 

  That’s what he gets for not talking to him for over a week the fucker. 

  While Wilbur gasped in horror, Techno took the bowl away from Tommy.

  “What?” Tommy said, his mouth stuffed full of the burnt potato, “it’s good.”

  “Is your mouth not in pain right now?” Even Phil sounded alarmed.

  “Mm, nope!”

  “Jesus fucking christ.”

  The rest of the day went by, Tommy growing more fidgety by the hour. No one seemed to notice his restlessness. Or the fact that he kept making trips to the store room.

  By the time came for them all to sleep, Phil ushered them all to bed early saying that tomorrow morning they’ll clear out the rest of the snow. Tommy simply grinned and nodded to that, ignoring the way his heart screamed at him to not leave.

  Yelling goodnight as they always did, Tommy pretended to shut his eyes and go to sleep, trying to overlook the way his stomach felt sick. 

  After a while, he opened his eyes, the rather loud snores of the others reaching his ears. He watched the clock on the chair near him, glowing faintly in the dark, ticking inaudibly. When the clock eventually hit five’o clock in the morning, Tommy sat up, hoping the sofa didn’t creak too loudly. 

  With a thudding heart, he tiptoed out of the sleeping area and down to the storage room to retrieve his bag. 

  Silently shouldering his bag, pausing to grab a surgical mask he found to help protect him a bit from the toxic fumes in the air, Tommy exited the store room and headed towards the exit.

  He passed the area where the others were sleeping quietly and made his way towards the door. 

  Opening the control panel that still had the keys in, Tommy punched a command in, letting the door hiss open just enough for him to slightly duck under it and leave. 

  The snow was a little under knee length, enough for him to move through easily. Tommy adjusted his backpack’s straps, letting out a deep breath.

  “Tommy?”

  Tommy whipped around to see the faint outline of Techno standing in the tunnel entrance.

  The man reached out for a switch and turned on the lights, the harsh yellow light filling the tunnel. Tommy stared at Techno, fidgeting with the end of his shirt like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “You’re leaving,” Techno said after a moment of the two staring at each other.

  “Um— yeah,” Tommy admitted.

  “Why?”

  “I have to.”

  “No you don’t.” Well, that was an awfully good point. 

  Tommy looked behind him and at the snow, lit golden orange with the dying sun.

  “I do,” he said, looking back at Techno, “it’s what we decided.”

  “That was before we knew you,” Techno began to sound exasperated.

  “So does that mean you want me to stay?”

  “Yes! You're barely surviving on your own! Just— just let us help you. Please Tommy.”

  Tommy took a step back at Techno’s tone. It was almost pleading, sadness clear in the other’s eyes.

  He thought back to the start of the apocalypse, to before he became a lone survivor raiding cities and running from zombies, to when he learnt how to live in bunkers just like these. To when he used to trust other survivors with his safety.

  He hadn’t trusted any living breathing person like he had since then, and even though every bit of him screamed at him to trust this small family of survivors just like he used to.

  “I—” Tommy hesitated, “I can’t— I’m— I’m sorry. I really am I just— y'know”

  Techno appeared to notice and understand the distress on Tommy’s face and nodded, taking a step back. 

  “Okay,” the pink haired man said softly, “okay.”

  “Thank you,” Tommy whispered, ignoring the way his vision began to blur.

  “Will you remember that you’ll always have a place here? With us?”

  “I will,” Tommy gave him a shaky smile.

  “Okay,” Techno seemed to be satisfied with that answer, giving the boy a single nod, “stay safe out there Theseus.”

  “Will do Technoblade.”

  With that, Tommy took a step into the cold outside, the slight breeze nipping at his cheeks. He didn’t look behind, not knowing what his reaction would be. 

  He wore the surgical mask as the bunker door hissed shut behind him and began walking. 

  He walked through the forest for about five minutes when he saw a bird. It was a crow, something he hadn’t seen very often.

  Phil likes crows.

  Tommy looked at the bird in slight interest as it hopped around on the branch. Then, with a flourish of its wings, the crow took off.

  Tommy trudged on.

  The groan of a zombie made Tommy fling himself behind a tree, his sword in his hand. The second the groan was closer than before, he swung out and killed the zombie with one clean sweep. 

  Looking down at the garbling mess of the zombie, he saw that the thing was wearing a pink shirt with a funky picture of a pig on the back. 

 Techno likes pink. And pigs

  Tommy trudged on.

  After a while, he climbed up into a tree, his feet starting to feel numb with the cold. 

  Sitting in the tree, legs swinging, Tommy began digging through his pack. In it, he found a small guitar keychain he didn’t remember putting there. 

  He distinctly remembered it hanging off of Wilbur’s belt, the brunet telling him about its significance to the man.

  Tommy swallowed a lump in his throat as he remembered the best parts of the last twenty-four days. Shoving the guitar keychain into his pocket, he closed his backpack.

  “Fuck you, Wilbur Soot Watson,” Tommy muttered as he climbed down the tree.

  Tommy trudged through the snow in the opposite direction that he was originally moving in.

  By the time he could see it in the distance, it was beginning to get dark out. Walking up to the door, he patted his pockets for his wires and bits of metal, getting down to work.

  Stepping into the threshold, this time making sure he didn’t fall through, Tommy closed the door with the wire bits.

  Turning back around to face the rest of the tunnel, he waited for exactly three seconds before Techno burst through the dividing curtain, gun ready to shoot, a puffy-eyed Wilbur right behind him.

  The three stared at each other for a long moment.

  “So I heard you guys had room for one more?” Tommy smiled sheepishly. Techno lowered his gun, Tommy reaching for his backpack straps as something slammed into him, arms wrapping around him.

  “Hruehgh,” Tommy mumbled into Wilbur’s shoulder, who only squeezed him tighter.

  “You fucking idiot!”  Wilbur exclaimed, voice choking up, “you really just up and left without saying bye.”

  “Mmph s’rry,” Tommy’s voice was still muffled into Wilbur’s shoulder.

  “I’m very mad at you,” Wilbur squeezed him impossibly tighter.

  “Unferstan’able.”

  “Wil? Tech? What happen— oh?”

  Tommy raised a hand at Phil’s voice, mumbling an “ello Phil.”

  A second set of arms wrapped around both him and Wilbur, then a third. 

  Tommy blinked for a moment, before wresting his face free of Wilbur’s shoulder. Now that he could see everyone properly, he realized that all three of them were now actively hugging him. It felt— nice.

  “Are we having a family hug right now?” Tommy said, without thinking.

  Wilbur froze for a moment before letting out a wet laugh, “Yeah, yeah we are.”

  “Huh,” Tommy settled down in the hug, he could get used to this.

  “Next time you leave at least let us know,” Phil said, breaking away from the hug, “I don’t wanna hear the news from Techno again.”

   “Hey I delivered the news perfectly fine,” Techno protested as they all took a step back, “not my fault Wilbur began to cry.”

  “You cried?” Tommy looked at Wilbur, “like actually? Wait oh my god you’re crying right now.”

  “Of course not,” Wilbur wiped his eyes, “and I’m not crying right now what do you mean.”

  “Uh huh,” Tommy raised an eyebrow, “sure.”

  While Wilbur protested and Techno egged him on, Tommy looked around at the three guys he’d grown to trust way too much than his brain was telling him to and decided that his brain was a bit stupid and these people weren’t gonna be like the first people he had met during the apocalypse. 

  Safe, his mind supplied. They're safe.