Chapter Text
Tommy feels it a couple days before it sets in.
He’s not been taking care of himself- that he knows for certain. Ever since his revival his bones have ached constantly, deep circles carved under his eye-bags, his stomach constantly hungering for more food that he feels no need to provide.
But if anything, he knows for certain when he feels ‘the itch’.
It’s a horrible way to describe it, but it’s the only possible way he knows to. What do you possibly call the all-too-familiar feeling of your throat burning a few days before the sickness hits? Like a cotton ball shoved down the beginning of his throat- or perhaps sandpaper, scraping his skin every time he swallows. He knows if he were to touch it (he would choke- he knows, he’s tried) the surface would be raw and inflamed.
As soon as Tommy wakes up that morning and immediately feels the familiar burn, he knows the next few days will not be good ones. A fever ridden nightmare looms on the horizon- of tossing and turning, feeling like his skin is too heavy for his body and his head is too fuzzy to stay awake- but the pain too much to sleep. Of his throat and lungs burning with each inhale as he’s racked with coughing, screaming long into the nights as if that will quell the unstoppable agony.
Internally, Tommy sighs. He slowly gets up from his creaky bed, wincing as his back creaks in protest. He fills up a glass of water to almost overflowing, taking an ibuprofen from the cupboard and swallowing it down, grimacing at the all-too-familiar burn.
Tommy could contact someone, sure. But the few people who wouldn’t kill him immediately- or threaten too- would simply just not care. The only exceptions he can think of are Tubbo and Ranboo… but they’re busy, probably. They haven’t stopped to see him since that first time they did after his revival- where Tubbo kept insisting he wasn’t real and Ranboo looked like he’d seen a ghost.
He’s real- or at least he’s pretty sure. At least, his pain is pretty real- and he’s about certain ghosts don’t feel pain. However, the only backing information he has for that is Ghostbur, and he’s unreliable at best.
Tommy groans, curling in on himself and falling back into bed with a muffled ‘oof’.
He’ll just have to ride it out. Sure, it’ll fucking suck, but he’s dealt with sickness before. He just has an excuse to lie in bed for a few days.
He’ll be fine.
It’s very not fine, actually. Tommy finds that out several days later.
Everything stinks of sweat-ridden fever and decay. He’s collapsed on the tile of his bathroom floor, kneeled over the porcelain toilet bowl- groaning as the last remains of the healing potion he’d tried to drink comes tumbling back up. Sweat-soaked hair clings to his forehead and his whole body shakes from the fever-induced chill.
He coughs, his chest burning. It feels as if a thousand suns have just been dropped down his oesophagus and released into the fragile cavity of his stomach.
Tommy hates it. He hates feeling this vulnerable, this useless. But most of all, he hates the pain.
He thought it would’ve been fine, but what he failed to account for was that his body was still weak and sensitive from his revival.
The pain is paralysing, a heavy weight that has his muscles tightening and freezing up as he tries to convince himself he’s not back there, groaning on the grotty tile floor as he just waits for the agony to die down.
The taste of metal floods his mouth, and Tommy immediately scrambles to put his head back over the bowl. He retches, tears stinging at his eyes as his throat gurgles. He spits the liquid into the bowel, gasping as his lungs heave for air.
He watches, horrified, as crimson droplets land and spread into the water.
It’s a much, much different colour than the distinct frothy pink of the health potion. Unless he’s eaten, like… a cranberry or a raspberry recently (which he hasn’t, he’s barely eaten anything over the last week) there’s only one thing it could be.
He really, really hopes it’s not what he thinks it is.
Oh, he thinks, his throat burning as he struggles to breathe through rasping coughs, his stomach twisting in agony. This is… probably the point where he should call someone.
He takes a deep breath, pushing the pain to the back of his head. He rummages around in his pockets for where he hopes his communicator is- he hasn’t talked to anyone recently though, so there’s no guarantee.
It’s not there. It’s not fucking there . Tommy’s stranded in the bathroom, unable to contact anyone because he doesn’t have his fucking communicator .
Oh god, he’s going to die here. He’s going to fucking die, alone in the stink-ridden bathroom and no-one will ever find him. No-one will care when he goes missing. His body will rot and rats will feast on his stitched together skin and Dream will never be able to revive him.
Prime, that thought terrifies him.
The fear causes his heart to give a stumbling thump, sending him attempting to scramble to his feet. He’s ultimately unsuccessful, falling to his knees on the grotty tile with a hiss as his legs give out underneath him. He instead crawls forward towards the door, whimpering as his stomach twists and contracts.
Tears burn in his eyes. God, he’s so fucking pathetic.
He pulls one hand up to the doorknob, thumping his body against the wood with a whine of pain as he twists the handle. He immediately falls through the door, head hitting the dirt of his house with a thud.
He should give up. Surely there’s no hope for him at this point. Whoever he ends up messaging- which he still hasn't decided yet, in fact he’s barely thought through that, the only thing keeping him going is the fear induced adrenaline rushing through his system- he’ll just be a bother too.
He shakes his head rapidly, immediately regretting it as black spots dance across his vision and his vision goes blurry. He- he has to do something- prime, he’s Tommyinnit, he never fucking gives up.
He really wants to. He could just… go to sleep here.
He’s tired. He’s tired of being the hero. He’s tired of expecting to just deal with everything thrown his way. There’s a 80 kilogram weight on his back and he just can’t carry it anymore. /He can’t./
Tommy pulls himself back onto his knees, dirt streaking across his scarred knees. He pulls himself towards his storage chests, pulling one open and heaving with the effort. He exhaustedly drapes himself over the wood, staring down at the contents. He rummages through it, panic growing as he can’t find it and the pain in his stomach steadily grows. He pulls himself to the next chest, ignoring the pangs that shoot through his entire body.
Nothing, nothing, nothing. Oh Prime. Oh fucking Prime.
There’s one final chest. How fucking coincidental would it be if it was in the last chest? The great Tommyinnit, always cursed with the baddest of bad luck-
He pulls himself up to the chest, struggling to hold himself up on the chest, hands gripping the edges. It’s the highest chest in his base. Too bad for him.
He frantically rummages through the contents, letting out a sharp whine when something slices across one of his fingers. A piece of broken glass. Blood beads and falls, but the cut is overall not too deep.
Finally he leans back, clutching his hand to his chest. His chest burns.
It’s not there. It’s not there.
He bursts into choking sobs, doubling over as his lungs burn with the effort of it. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe- his revived lungs are rotting from the inside and his brain is melting apart as it starves from the lack of oxygen. He’s going to die, he’s going to die .
All this work, all this work building himself back up after being murdered by Dream in the prison, all this work trying to heal himself and it’s all going to be a waste. He knew it wouldn’t be worth it. Nothing is ever worth it on this godforsaken server, and now he’s going to be felled by a fucking fever-
Ding.
Tommy shoots up, immediately cursing himself as his vision swims and he nearly collapses. That’s his- that’s his communicator sound. It is here, but where? He’s checked all his chests, he’s checked everything -
His enderchest.
How could he be so stupid .
He crawls over to the lone, glowing purple chest that sits in the corner of the room. The stupid, stupid chest. Why would he ever put his communicator in his enderchest? No-one ever does that, he’s cursed himself. This is all his fault. Prime has looked upon him and decided he deserves pain and suffering.
He sniffles, letting out another sob as pain rolls through his stomach. He coughs, something dribbling down the side of his mouth, and he knows it’s blood.
It seems like forever, but finally he reaches it. He turns the latch, pulling up the lid and delving his hand into the chest-
And fishes out the familiar, rectangle screen.
He bursts into relieved sobs, reaching with shaking hands to turn it on. The screen flashes to life, showing the screen of his contacts.
He can’t see them. His vision is too blurry. That’s ok. As long as fucking… Jack or Technoblade aren’t at the top of his list, it’s probably going to be fine.
He clicks on the top of the contact list, hands quivering as he types ‘Help please I need help I’m sick at my house need help’- or at least what he thinks is that. It’s a good thing he’s memorised the keyboard layout, or else this would be a lot harder.
He fumbles for the send button, eventually able to click it. Immediately his hands stop listening to him, his communicator skidding across the floor as his arms fall to his side.
The adrenaline is leaving, he can feel it. Without that rush he is nothing but a shell, a puppet, subjected to the pain that blooms across his body.
He turns his head to the side weakly, coughing and spluttering as vomit slides up his throat, dribbling down from his mouth and onto his shirt.
Dimly, he can hear his communicator ping as a message comes through. That's… that's good. It means that at the very least, his message has been read. It's up to Prime now whether the person comes to help him.
He shivers, tears rolling down his cheeks. His stomach twists again, but this time it almost feels… number. His head feels like it's drifting, slowly getting further and further away.
Ping. Ping.
His breath leaves him in a rasped sigh, and the world tilts as his body goes limp and he crashes to the floor.
Everything goes dark.
Techno's not sure what to make of this.
He'd sent Tommy a message on his communicator- not because he wanted to, but simply because Phil was worried for the boy and for some reason thought Techno would be the one he replied to. But he was not expecting to be replied to- let alone what he actually got.
18:34 Techno- Ello. If you see this message Phil, he's worried about you.
18:35 Tommy- hrip ples i nered help sivk atymu house nee helpo
TOMMYHURT?
TECHNOHELP
HELP TOMMYYYY
"Shut up, chat." He grumbles under his breath, before turning his attention back to the message.
From the little he can tell from Tommy's… hideously garbled message, he's sick. And needs help? From Techno? Obviously Tommy's not coherent- he never would've messaged him about anything like this.
Techno lets out a small chuckle. It's probably just a prank, knowing Tommy. Frustration lingers in his stomach. Tommy won't answer Phil and make him worry about him, but he'll attempt to prank Techno instead? Rubbish- anyone could have seen it coming. Tommy is an idiot if he thinks he can trick the infamous Blood God.
But, alas, Phil will not be happy if he lets Tommy die.
18-36 Techno- Funny prank, Tommy.
Honestly I don't care what you do, just at least let Phil know that you don't need him anymore.
His fingers hit the send button easily. He stares at the screen for a moment, before sighing and getting up to make himself a coffee. Prime , he's tired.
By the time he gets back to his communicator- steaming coffee now resting in his calloused hand- there's still no message from the teenager.
Techno frowns. He's not worried- he could never be worried about Tommy. But maybe it's how tired he is, or chat’s constant screaming insistence that something is wrong- but he can feel a tinge of concern creeping in the back of his mind.
He should leave this. He should put his communicator, tell Phil what happened, and let someone else deal with this. Or not. Y'know, he wouldn't be too upset if Tommy died.
But he's not- he's not heartless. Well, not quite.
He'll just go check on Tommy. Berate him if it's just a prank. If it's not… well, he'll decide when he sees it.
'atymu house' He had said, which he assumes means, 'at my house'.
Techno sighs. Not how he thought he'd spend his Sunday evening.
By the time he makes it to Tommy's stupid dirt hole, the sun is dipping below the horizon, painting the sky an array of brilliant reds and pinks and oranges. Techno pulls up on Carl, tying him to a pole next to the path and giving him a gentle pet and an apple to much on.
The front door to Tommy’s house is slightly ajar- just enough to know that something is wrong but not enough to see inside the home- and Techno is immediately put on edge. Even from here his hybrid senses can pick up on the stench of decay. It’s overpowering and thick, as if it’s had time to settle into the dirt that carries it. He doesn’t doubt that anyone walking by- hybrid or not- would be able to smell it.
What he's not sure if they would be able to smell is the stench of blood. It’s faint, and he’s not sure if it’s actually there or something his brain just conjured. It’s not uncommon for him to randomly pick up on the stench of blood without there actually being any. Comes with the territory of being the blood god, he supposes.
-Techno hurry!!
-Blood for the blood god
-Tommyhurt :((
-E
Techno grumbles a bit at chat, waving them off. “Tommy’ll be fine.” He assures them with a grunt. He studies the door for a moment longer, before padding away and grabbing a long stick lying on the ground and returning. If Tommy has planned something and that smell has anything to do with it, he really doesn’t want to end up falling for it and get in the range of fire. He probably shouldn’t have brought his new cape that Phill made for him- but forgive him for wanting to look nice.
-L
-HAHA
-Technofancy
-YOU’RE LITERALLY AN ANARCHIST?!
“So what, chat?” Techno drawls. “Just because I’m an anarchist doesn’t mean I can’t look good.” He does a quick spin to show off, laughing at chat’s amazed (and some sarcastic) ooh’s and aah’s. Before, of course, remembering he came here for a reason.
Oh wow, imagine if Tommy’s just inside his house literally dying while Techno casually jokes around outside- not that he cares, of course.
He reaches over with the stick, tapping the door just a bit. When nothing seems to happen he makes a quick, impulse based decision and shoves the door all the way open with the butt of the stick.
Instantly Techno nearly collapses, hit with the most overpowering, grotesque smell he thinks he’s ever come across. It’s like the stench itself is alive, wafting over him and burrowing into his skin.
He shivers at the thought.
His whole brain- well, chat actually, sometimes it’s hard to distinguish between the two- is screaming at him to turn back. No, that's wrong- most of them actually want him to keep going. Bad idea, in his opinion. God, chat is confusing. And loud. Tommy always seems to bring out the loud ones in chat- somehow.
“Guys, shut up, Tommy is fine.” He growls. “I need to focus.”
He edges inside slowly, wrinkling up his nose at the foul smell. He hopes he doesn’t end up throwing up all over his cape. Not only would that be rather embarrassing, but also pretty disgusting.
Techno eyes Tommy’s house warily. Chests are thrown open haphazardly, their contents spilling out from the wood and onto the packed dirt floor. A strange hole in the ceiling leaves orange light to spill over the gap and dance across the floor like waves. But other than that… he can't see anything wrong.
Specifically, he can’t see Tommy.
“Hey, chat, can you be like… omnipresent for a sec?” He asks, desperation tinging his tone. “Like… just tell me where Tommy is so I can get out of here? I really don’t want to go further into this hellpit.”
- Message deleted by moderator
-Tommy needs help!!
-Tommyhurt
-Message deleted by moderator
- NOT POG
“Oh crap.” Techno whispers. That’s the weird thing about chat, they like to spite him. Say very weird vague things and sometimes be specific, but most of the time they can’t be specific. He doesn’t know why- and he doesn’t really like the fact that someone is moderating his own brain. But then again he lives with straight up voices in his head, so he doesn’t know why he’s that worried.
Techno sighs. Chat is no help, guess he’s going to have to deal with it himself. He steps fully inside the door, pausing to check that there’s no tripwire or anything.
And here’s the thing about Techno. He’s… pretty blind. Not actually blind, he just tends to… skim over things. So it takes him a couple tries of looking over the room before he spots the very obvious Tommy collapsed next to his enderchest.
The first thing he notices is that his communicator is beside him- heavily cracked from what he guesses is a series of… unfortunate events- ( Doomsday, chat whispers) and still open up to Techno’s contact.
-Techno HURRY UP!!!
-TOMMYHURT
-TOMMMYYYY
-bedrock brooooOOO
-help elp help help
-Message deleted by moderator
Techno rushes over to Tommy's side, immediately placing a finger on the pulse point at his neck. He breathes a sigh of relief at the pulsing motion against it- although it’s certainly not as strong as he would’ve liked.
Wait- why is he relieved?! This is Tommy he’s talking about- this is the person he actively hates . This is the little ugly gremlin child who betrayed him.
-LIAR
-TECHNO LIARRRRR
And yet…
Techno takes in Tommy’s appearance. He’s unconscious, eyes closed and grimaced in slight pain and chest stuttering as it rises and falls. Sweat soaks his hair and hangs across his forehead, his skin hot and clammy to the touch. A streak of red drips from the side of his mouth- and that’s not good, that proves that the blood stench Techno could smell was not just his imagination.
He’s sick, clearly. The message was not a joke, apparently. And all this lends to the fact that Techno is probably the biggest asshole- thinking back on the events of the last 30 minutes. How casually he rode here on Carl. I mean- his first thought was how Tommy was probably pranking him, for god’s sake!
“But you can’t blame me, right chat?” Techno cries, his voice bordering on the edge of hysteria. “You can’t- he betrayed me! He was part of the government! I should- I should leave, I should not be here-”
- C’mon Techno!
-You have to help him!!!
-Brothers!
-Technosoft
Brothers.
And that’s why he came here, was it not? Because he could have not come at all. He could have left. But Tommy- Tommy is his brother, even if not by blood. Because that little gremlin child hid under his basement and although Techno would never admit it he found himself treating Tommy as if he was his own brother. Because- while annoying- Techno could never hate Tommy. Not actually.
Techno hesitates. Because although blood stains the side of Tommy’s mouth and he could just as easily be dying he can’t-
Because while Techno has often been inconsistent, the truth is that he holds grudges. For a long time.
-*Chat timed out by moderator*
-Techno
-Techno you have to help him
-Techno, c’mon
Techno narrows his eyes.
His hands slide underneath Tommy’s skinny form and gently picks him up to rest against his chest. The teen shivers, tucking himself in closer to Techno’s warm cape despite the way his whole body burns with heat. A fever.
Techno grits his teeth, adjusting Tommy in his arms and leaving the house, closing the door gently behind him. He heaves himself onto Carl, wincing as Tommy whimpers softly when he jostles him.
God, Techno’s not going soft, is he?
- *Chat resumed by moderator*
-TECHNOSOFT
-TECHNOSOFT
-TECHNOSOFT
-TECHNOSOFT!!!!
Internally Techno curses whoever this dumb ‘moderator’ person is, before carefully tucking Tommy into the lining of his coat. It would not be good if he dropped him-
Pause this, he doesn't care if Tommy falls. He is doing this as a mere act of service. For Phil, he reminds himself. He does not care.
If he tells it to himself enough, maybe it’ll become true.
The sun has long since set when Techno arrives back home, Tommy cradled safely in his arms. The moon rises steadily into the void-like sky, stars glittering ominously in the empt black. Good job Techno has built in hybrid night vision, or else he would’ve killed them both long ago.
He hops off Carl, his cape swishing gently in his wake. He chuckles lightly, tucking Tommy in closer to his chest. The boy whimpers, his breath hitching for a moment before continuing at its weak pace.
Techno rushes up the stairs and inside the house, gently placing Tommy on the couch. He gets the urge to smooth down his ruffled hair- before snapping out of it because that’s dumb, they aren’t brothers, they never were. He instead goes over to his kitchen, quickly wetting a cold flannel and draping it over Tommy’s burning forehead. Honestly, that kid is like a volcano, a steaming pit of fiery coals.
Techno may be good at many things, but he’s not particularly good at dealing with sickness. He’s good at dealing with injuries- external injuries- but not anything in the department of inside. That’s what dads are for- and Techno is not a dad.
But he does know who is.
So, he pulls out his communicator. He needs to send Phil a message saying Tommy is ok anyway (well, ‘ok’ is pushing it a little), might as well ask how to deal with… this.
21:38 Techno- Hey, Phil.
- I found Tommy, but he’s sick
- Could I have some help?
Techno sighs, sitting on the armchair by the couch while he waits for a reply. He keeps a side eye on Tommy, making sure that the weak rise and fall of his chest continues.
-Techno cares!
-Bedrock BROTHERS
-You’re brothers!
-BROTHERS
“Shut up, chat!” Techno snaps, his fist coming down to hit the arm or the chair. Immediately, chat falls silent. He shouldn’t have gotten angry, but he’s stressed, ok? And it’s not because he’s worried about Tommy- chat you’re not helping-
21:39 Phil- glad he’s alright
- srry mate, you’ll have to deal with him yourself, im busy
Techno sighs, running a hand down his face and cursing every god out there.
21:39 Techno- Could you at least give me some pointers? Please?
21:40 Phil- what kinda sick is he?
Techno turns to face Tommy for a moment, narrowing his eyes.
21:40 Techno- Fever. He’s sweating lots but also shivering. He’s unconscious currently and was when I found him, and he seems malnourished and dehydrated.
21:41 Phil- anything else?
Techno wrings his hands nervously, glancing at the trail of red that finds itself at the edge of Tommys mouth. Should he…?
21:42 Techno- He’s bleeding from the edge of his mouth, though I’m not sure if that’s important.
21:43 Phil- That doesn’t sound good, mate. it might just be that he’s coughed too much and irritated his airways, or it could be something a lot worse. Keep me updated.
21:44 Phil- other than that, just keep a cold flannel on his head. Take his temperature and if he wakes up keep him hydrated. he might be confused if he wakes up tho so be careful. But other than that there's not much you can do- just keep an eye on him, update me if anything weird happens.
21:45 Techno- Alright, thanks.
Techno gets up, placing his communicator on the kitchen bench and reaching into the cupboard for a thermometer and a glass of water. Chat is unusually quiet, especially for when Tommy is around. Then he remembers what happened before and mutters a small apology to them.
He sits on the couch with Tommy, popping the thermometer into his mouth. He sets the glass of water on the coffee table by the couch for when Tommy wakes up.
“Heh,” Techno chuckles. “You’re so quiet when you’re sleeping, you know that? It’s weird.”
Techno swallows awkwardly. “It’s wrong.” He admits. “Y ou’re wrong. You’re supposed to- be loud. It’s annoying, sure, and I hate it- and I hate you- but it’s still…”
Techno sighs, dragging his hand down his face. He glances at Tommy, almost expecting to see him awake and ready to talk the crap out of him, teasing and making fun of him- but his eyes stay firmly closed.
Techno smiles slightly. “Heh, I’m glad you can’t hear what I’m saying. You’d talk my ear off about it for ages. Still hate you- by the way.”
-Techno liar!
-E
-Shut up chat!
-BROTHERS
-guys we don’t want him to yell at us again!
“Chat, you’re alright. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m just stressed.” Techno laughs, waving them off. “That doesn’t mean you can keep being annoying though- no, stop that-”
Techno walks over to the kitchen, getting ready to prep some potatoes for a soup, laughing and chattering off to his chat.
On the couch- unknown to Techno- Tommy breathes out a short sigh of relief.
It’s the third day when Techno finally gets put up with this. He’s noticed, slowly over the course of the last few days, that Tommy is not actually asleep. He flinches back every time Techno speaks too loudly, heart rate increases every time he comes too close. How he tries to muffle phlegmy coughs that burst out of him like careening trucks.
His fever has still barely fallen from the 39.2 degrees that it was when he first measured it. Techno can tell that he’s getting worse- since he’s not awake Techno hasn’t been able to give him any food or water, meaning he’s slowly degrading as his body suffers from malnutrition and dehydration. The other concerning factor is every time he coughs blood spills from his lips and his spit comes out a rich pink.
So, Techno has no choice.
“Tommy.” He murmurs, ducking down to his face. Tommy’s face scrunches up slightly, before immediately relaxing. “Tommy, I know you’re awake.”
Obviously that did not have the desired effect, as Tommy immediately pales. His eyes fling open and he starts coughing raspily, spit and slight hints of blood spraying all over Techno’s face.
Techno just narrows his eyes, staring disapprovingly at him until the coughs finally slow down. Tommy immediately tries to push himself up to his feet, eyes blown wide and rid-rimmed before falling back down with a groan of pain.
“Okay, calm down, it’s just me, Techno.” He grunts. “Y’know, the dude you messaged when you were sick? About 4 days ago? The one you betrayed ages ago? Ringing any bells?”
“Did’n’ mean t’do tha.” Tommy slurs, breathing still rapid but beginning to slow down as he falls back into his nest of pillows. He coughs weakly, grabbing at his chest with a muffled whine.
“Didn’t mean to do what?” Techno’s eyes narrow. “Betray me? I’m pretty sure you did mean that, don’t know how you wouldn’t-”
“No.” Tommy shakes his head rapidly, blinking as a wave of dizziness seems to overtake him. “Mmmm… didn’ mean to message you.”
Techno freezes. “You… what? Who did you mean to message, then?”
Tommy goes silent for so long that Techno nearly opens his mouth to push him, before Tommy finally sighs slightly. “I don’ know. Anyone, I s’pose. I didn’ really think ‘nyone would answer.”
-aw tommy!
-Tommy needs hug!!!
-TECHNO GIVE TOMMY HUG
-TOMMY TIMMY
Techno grumbles slightly, but he can feel a slight wave of confusion brewing in his stomach. “What do you mean, you thought no-one would answer? Don’t you like- have friends? Tubbo and Ranboo, right? They would’ve answered, I’m sure- if not them, probably Phil.”
Tommy waves his hand weakly. “Maybe.” He shrugs. “But they haven’t really cared ever since I was revived. Phil only cares because… I dunno. M’be he feels like a hero, helping me from Dream. ‘An act of service.’”
“Revived?” Techno asks, confused. He remembers, slightly, when Ranboo had told them Tommy had been killed by Dream in the prison. To be honest, he thought it had been a joke. He laughed, because of course it was a joke- Tommy would never die, at least not like that. It was a prank, a rubbish one at that-
-You thought Tommy being sick was a prank, too.
Shut up.
“Ye. I died.” Tommy murmurs. He blinks, his head nodding forward before shooting back up again. “Ranboo… told me he told you. Said you laughed. Tha wasn’ nice.”
“Oh.” Techno whispers. “ Oh. ” God, he really feels like a horrible person. He just- wow. Yeah, sure, Tommy is a right idiot who has certainly done horrible things but… laughing because you think something is a prank but they’re actually dead? That’s a new low for even the Blood God.
Tommy closes his eyes, sinking even further into the pillow- which, how is that even possible, he looks like he’s trying to become one with the cotton- and letting out a long sigh.
“Tommy, you can’t go to sleep, ok?” Techno groans. “I need you to eat and drink something-”
“‘M not hungry.” Tommy murmurs.
“Ok, well, you have to at least drink something-” Techno starts, exaggerated.
“Don’ want to.”
Techno groans, hitting his hand on his head. Now he’s reminded why he hates being around Tommy. This little gremlin-
“C’mon, Tommy.” Techno tries again, poking him on the shoulder, to which Tommy responds with a grimace. “You have to drink.”
“Fine.” Tommy murmurs. He pulls himself up slightly further up the couch, groaning and coughing a bit as he gets jostled. Techno hands him a glass of water with a little straw in it, keeping his hands around it when Tommy nearly drops it all over himself.
Tommy sips it slowly, before his eyes widen and he begins to slurp it up gratefully. Techno opens his mouth to tell him to slow down, but before he can Tommy swallows it wrong and starts coughing and choking.
Techno quickly puts the glass down, gently rubbing Tommy’s back until his coughing begins to slow down and he lets out a low whine. Ew, physical affection. But still, Techno gives him a little pat on the shoulder and helps lower him back onto the pillows.
“I miss’d you, Techie.” Tommy murmurs, voice raspy. Techno’s heart leaps into his throat, and he nearly starts choking himself.
“Oh.” Techno whispers. “Ok. You’re sick, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that because you probably don’t mean that- but ok.”
Tommy laughs softly, sinking deeper into the pillows and giving a soft sigh. Soon, his breathing slows down as he falls back into unconsciousness.
Techno groans, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. Ew, emotions. He’s going- he’s going all soft, oh Prime. This is not good. Chat’s manipulation is working- and Tommy is not helping.
-Brothers!
-BROTHERS!!!
-BEDROCK BROOOOOOOOS
“Shut up, Chat!”
When Tommy finally emerges from his sick induced confusion, it’s to pain. Lots of pain. And a lot of confusion- but a different kind of confusion.
Where. The Fuck. Is he.
He tries to push himself up onto his elbows, his head swimming with dizziness when he attempts. He muffles a groan that threatens to slip out, his eyes darting quickly around the room.
He… recognises this place. From ages ago, after exile- he had ran here after Dream had blown up everything. Techno’s place. In fact, this was the exact room he stayed in.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. So Techno was the one at the top of his contact list. He’s not sure how that happened, but what he’s even more surprised by is that Techno actually… helped him?
Probably not helped. Techno definitely still hates him- he’s probably just doing this to favour Phil, or something. Tommy winces, remembering the fact that he still hasn’t messaged Phil in a while. Hopefully Techno has sent a message to him letting him know that he’s okay.
But that’s not the point. The point is that he needs to get the fuck out of here, before Techno decides to stop giving him basic human respect and snaps just like on doomsday.
Immediately Tommy’s eyes flit around. A window- probably locked, and while Tommy may be good at picking locks, he’s never managed to pick any of Techno’s. He’s not sure what magic that guy uses, but even Tommy’s amazingly handsome smarts can not get past that guy's defences.
The door isn’t locked- he can tell because it’s slightly peeking open- although not enough to see out. The question is where Techno is- he’s certainly not in this room, which Tommy is definitely glad of. He doesn’t particularly want to deal with him at the moment, especially in his still sick state.
Which he also needs to take into consideration. He knows he’s significantly weaker due to how sick he is, and he wouldn’t even be able to overtake Techno in his healthy, before revival state- which he’s been shown many times before.
So, his only plan- which is definitely an amazingly wonderful, not-breakable plan- is to just… run out and hope he doesn’t come across Techno. Hope, with the desperate amount of dignity he has left, that Techno is not in the house.
Tommy swings himself up, rubbing his head as pangs of pain shoot through his skull, his vision going black for a moment before he blinks it away. He decides to get to his feet anyway- which proves to be a bad decision.
His legs immediately give out from under him and he hits the floor with a massive crash. There’s a creak beneath him, and he quickly crawls across the floor despite the pain in his knees. He’s lucky he does- because as soon as he gets a safe distance away, the floor breaks away from the spot where he fell. Techno obviously has very bad construction skills- this house should not be that easy to break.
And then he remembers how often he managed to spill water up here when staying with Techno. It was never an accident, not really- every time Techno came up Tommy would throw a cup of water at him. He doesn’t know why, it was just fun. But that must be why the floor broke- this whole room must have bad water damage. He’s lucky the whole floor didn’t collapse.
“Shit, fuck!” Tommy curses under his breath. His heart stops as he hears a confused snort and footsteps thumping up to the second floor.
Tommy makes a split second decision and crawls over to the hole in the floor. His nails dig crescents into his palms. He swallows, refusing to look down at the room below- he’s always hated heights ever since his… attempt in exile.
“Tommy?” Techno’s voice booms from behind the door. He hasn’t seemed to have come in yet- which is weird. “Are you.. Alright?”
“Don’t come in!” Tommy threatens, edging closer to the edge. For some reason it seems to be opposite day- which Tommy for some reason didn’t get the memo of- because Techno immediately opens the door and storms in, eyes widening when he sees Tommy.
“Hey, hey, c’mon- don’t do something you’ll regret-” Techno stumbles over his words, taking a step towards Tommy. Tommy immediately scrambles closer to the hole, dangling a foot down.
“Don’t come closer. ” Tommy hisses, his eyes burning. “Don’t come closer or I’ll drop myself down here.”
Techno flinches back minutely, before immediately steeling himself over. “Hey, Tommy- it’s alright, ok?” Tommy just hisses back like a cat, but Techno ploughs onwards. “What do you- whats wrong-”
“You're wrong!” Tommy snaps, voice quivering. “This- this is wrong! I- I don’t know what you’re trying to do or- what but, but you need to let me leave.”
“Leave?” Techno’s eyes narrow. He shuffles forwards slightly- and Tommy, in his rage, doesn’t notice.
“I- you need to go somewhere, somewhere far away- and let me go back home. You’ve fucking- you’ve kidnapped me, man!” Tommy laughs hysterically, teetering closer to the edge. Techno’s fingers twitch. “I- you hate me- why the fuck are you tring to help me?!”
“Because you called me?!” Techno runs his hands down his face, exasperation rising. “This is not my fault, Tommy. You called me- and because I’m not a bad person I decided to graciously help you-”
“‘Not a bad person?!’” Tommy laughs, eyes wide as he gazes at Techno with something akin to betrayal. “Around a year ago you told me to fucking die. And now you want to act all high and mighty and help me? What- what the fuck?!”
“Look, Tommy, I didn’t mean it like that.” Techno groans. “I’m not- I’m not trying to ask for forgiveness, not at all. I just- look, if you don’t believe me, at least believe that I’m doing a favour for Phil? C’mon, work with me here, Theseus.”
“I don’t need anyone's help!” Tommy screams, his hand hitting the broken wood planks with a muffled crack. Techno winces. “I can help myself, I can help myself-”
“Are you sure, Tommy?” Techno growls. “What were you going to do if I didn’t answer you- hope that your fever broke by itself? Hope that your infection ‘magically’ got fixed? What was your master plan Tommy, huh?”
Tommy goes silent. “I- I don’t know.” Tommy wiggles slightly, subconsciously edging closer to the edge. “I don’t know.”
“Exactly, you don’t know. You have to let me help you, Tommy. I can help you- I can prove to you that I’m trying to help you.” Techno sighs. “I know we’ve had our issues, I know that more than anyone.” Tommy frowns. “But I’m willing to… try an’ get over it. Maybe.”
Tommy pauses. In front of him lies two paths, he knows. Or perhaps not. There’s no guarantee Techno won’t just force him anyway if he refuses. “...What if I say no.” Tommy asks slowly, watching Techno’s monotone face desperately for any sign of emotion.
“I can’t force you to do anything, Tommy.” Techno sighs. “But it’d be in your best interests. Probably.”
“You wouldn’t- I don’t know- hit me?” Tommy asks, voice shaking slightly as his mind flashes to Dream’s angry voice, yelling at Tommy that he does nothing but annoy everyone around him- “And if I asked to stay, you’d promise you wouldn’t kick me out?”
Techno goes silent, seemingly mulling it over, and Tommy doesn’t dare to breathe. Finally, Techno nods slowly, seemingly unsure- but it’s still a yes. “I… I promise I wouldn’t kick you out. As long as you’re not, like, too annoying.” There’s a quirk of a smile to Techno’s mouth, just enough to let Tommy know that he’s joking.
“Ok,” Tommy whispers. “Ok.” Techno’s mouth opens to say something, but Tommy’s too quick and too shaken up to listen to him. He’s starting to panic from where he’s seated, way too close to the edge for his liking. He doesn’t even know if he would’ve been able to jump if he’d had to.
Too bad his brain doesn’t seem to work properly, as he makes the mistake of attempting to get up to his feet. He’s barely up to his knees when suddenly he’s off centre, his vision going black as he swims for half a second and then pitches forward, his bare feet slipping on the planks. His heart plummets as he falls too, his eyes scrunching tight as he realises- he’s falling.
“Tommy! ” Techno yelps, and suddenly there’s a hand gripping Tommy’s arm and he’s abruptly yanked to a stop. Sharp pain cuts through his arm at the abrupt stop of motion.
Still his eyes stay shut, his chest rising unevenly as he battles to stay calm. Is he sure he’s not still falling? How can he be sure? Maybe this is a hallucination, maybe he’s on the ground below the pillar on the first floor, his limbs at weird angles and blood pouring from his head as he loses his last droplets of life-
“Tommy, I got you- Tommy, you’re ok.” Techno sounds panicked above him, and Tommy just shuts his eyes tighter. If Techno’s worried then something must be wrong- “Tommy, please open your eyes- you have to work with me here-”
“What if I fall,” Tommy whispers, and he can’t even find it in himself to be mad at how terrified he sounds. His breath gasps out of him and he finds himself not getting enough oxygen. He can feel Techno’s arm, clutched around his forearm- but what if he let’s go? What if Techno drops him? What if this is all just a dream and Tommy’s still at his house, decaying as he slowly dies from the infection raging in his body-
“Tommy, breathe, ok?” Techno says slowly, gently. “You’re going to be ok. I’ve got you. But you’re going to have to open your eyes, alright? Slowly does it- there you go!”
Tommy slowly blinks open his eyes, his heart jumping as he realises he’s staring directly at the floor several metres below him, the planks moving as he swings dizzily in the air. He looks up quickly, desperate to stop the panic that is climbing, clawing at the edges of his throat, ripping his resolve to pieces.
His eyes catch with Techno. The man's red eyes stare directly down at him, pink hair falling across his face, expression set in determination. Techno gives him a small smile.
“You’ve got it, alright? You’re ok.” Techno murmurs slowly. “Tommy, you’re going to have to help me help you up, okay? You see the edge of the planks? Can you grab onto that?”
“What if-” Tommy’s mouth goes dry. “What if it breaks?”
“It won’t break, Tommy, I promise you.” Techno whispers. “And if it does it’s not far to fall. ‘Bout a metre at most. You’re not going to die, alright?”
“Not unless I fuck it up too much.” Tommy murmurs half-heartedly. Techno laughs above him, and Tommy finds it just a bit easier to breathe. He grapples, reaching up to grab onto the side of the snapped part of the wood. He lets out a whoop as he manages to grab on, wincing slightly as the sharp wood edges scrape against his palm.
“See, you got it!” Techno cheers. “I can nearly pull you up, alright? Can you try to pull yourself up using that hand?”
“Didn’t know you were weak, Techno.” Tommy jokes, his voice quivering slightly. He pulls slightly, gasping and immediately stopping as something cracks beneath his fingers.
“I can’t,” He whimpers. “I can’t, Techno- I can’t do it-”
“You can, Tommy.” Techno says. “You can do it. Hey, I’ll count down- you’ll pull yourself up, and I’ll help, alright? Down from 5, when I say go. You got it?”
Tommy nods wordlessly, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Techno’s voice swims around him like fingers plucking strings as he counts down. “5..”
“4..”
Tommy adjusts his fingers slightly. They’re sweating, shaking and quivering as he tries desperately to keep his hold on the wood.
“3… 2…”
Tommy takes a deep breath, holds it.
“1…”
“Go!”
Tommy pulls upwards, and feels Techno yank on his arm at the same time. Before he can register it he’s being jerked upwards, stomach slamming against the edges of the cracked wood. He swallows back a noise of pain, heaving himself forward even more. Finally he collapses onto the safe ground, breaths escaping him in heaved gasps.
Before he knows it he’s being tugged upwards, tucked against Techno’s chest. The warmth cradles his trembling form.
Techno does not shake, not like Tommy does, quivering like a leaf being attacked on all sides by raging wind. Techno is unmovable, like a pillar of stone that stands between him and his panic. The warmth cradles his mind, whispering of safety and brotherhood and Tommy doesn’t have enough energy to dispute it- so he merely accepts and leans further into its hold.
Techno purrs softly, murmuring words that Tommy barely catches, things like, ‘You’re ok’ and ‘I’ve got you, Theseus’. Ha. Imagine how funny it would’ve been if him, Tommy- Theseus- had fallen off the cliff. Well, the hole in the floor- but same/difference, right? Techno would have had a field day with his myth association.
When Tommy’s breathing finally slows down, he mutters out a small sentence of protest that he doesn’t even know the words to and squiggles out of Techno’s hold. The older doesn’t protest, merely loosens his grip so Tommy can get out, but gently guides him back so he doesn’t fall through again.
Techno stares at Tommy, his face blank, seemingly searching for… something. Tommy shuffles awkwardly, reaching up to touch the dried tear tracks on his face and wiping them away. Prime, he didn’t even realise he was crying.
The events of the last few minutes catch up to him. Oh god, this is Techno. This is Techno, one of the many people on this server who, like- actively hate Tommy. And he… hugged him? And stopped him from falling? Prime, but that doesn’t even matter- he nearly had a panic attack for Prime’s sake, and in front of Techno-
“You’re goin’ to have to pay for my floor, you know.” Techno grunts. Tommy’s eyes zip across his face, feeling his heart leap into his throat at the words- but it’s obvious Techno is joking. His posture is relaxed, easy, a quirk of a smile on his face. He doesn’t look seconds away from reaching for his crossbow or axe to slay Tommy where he stands.
“Don’t have any money, big man.” Tommy chuckles awkwardly. Techno snorts.
Techno comes over, gently patting Tommy on the back. Surprisingly, Tommy doesn’t even find himself flinching away.
“C’mon, let's get you back to bed, gremlin.” Techno smiles.
“Can we go downstairs?” Tommy asks, feeling slightly awkward. “Y’know, don’t want to… roll off in my sleep, or anything.”
Techno just laughs, sending a burst of relief through Tommy. “Course. Just… follow me down, I guess. Watch out for the hole.”
“I mean, think about it Techno!” Tommy laughs, walking forwards towards the door. “Maybe I’m doing you a favour, now you can install an elevator!”
“What, up to your bedroom?” Techno snorts, opening up the door for Tommy to go through with a faux bow.
“Of course-” Tommy says back, smiling- before all of a sudden, it’s like strings are cut and his legs are collapsing out from under him as all his energy is sucked away. Techno rushes to grab him, heaving him back up, holding him so that his shaky legs don’t fall away again.
“Heh.” Tommy chuckles, wiping his face. “Don’t- don’t think I can walk. Must’ve run out of that good ol’ adrenaline.”
Techno groans, before scooping Tommy up into his arms despite the younger’s shrieks and continuing down the hall. “Alright, I’m carrying you- stop wriggling, I will drop you-”
“You wouldn’t, Technoblade!” Tommy dramatises, throwing his palm up to his face. “Oh, woe is me, my own brother would dare to-”
Techno freezes- and Tommy immediately realises his mistake. “Fuck, I’m sorry- slip of the mouth-”
Techno just shakes his head, seemingly starstruck. “I- it’s fine.” He murmurs, seemingly unsure of what else to say. There’s another moment of brief uncomfortableness until Techno shakes his head and manages to end his stupor. They continue in silence, Tommy still in Techno arms as they make their way down the stairs.
Tommy fights to stay away, but he can feel the pull of darkness tugging him closer to unconsciousness. It doesn’t help that he can feel and hear Techno’s heart like a monotone, the steady beat lulling him into shadow.
Before he knows it his eyes are shutting, and he slips away into sleep, head resting against Techno’s chest.
Techno smiles.
“Fuck off!”
“Tommy, c’mon-”
“I didn’t ask you to tell anyone, did I?”
Not everything can stay calm and happy, Tommy finds out. Because, of course, Techno has to go and fucking tell someone else.
Yeah, sure, Tommy isn’t getting better. In fact, maybe he’s getting a bit worse- but that doesn’t mean Techno can go get some random person on the server. Especially without his permission!
“Well I couldn’t exactly ask you, could I?” Techno snaps. “Not when you were unconscious, when your heart rate was slowing down and I didn’t even know if you would ever wake up again!”
“Didn’t know you cared.” Tommy hisses back, crossing his arms and glaring at the other person in the room, Ponk. The apparent ‘doctor’ that Techno messaged.
“Tommy, we already went over this.” Techno groans.
“What? That you pretended you didn’t care about me before and let me waste and rot away but now you finally care? Now that I’m your little ‘good deed’, now that I’m your little favour for Phil?” Tommy snarls. “Yes, we talked about that, Techno.”
Techno groans, running a hand down his forehead. His eyes glint dangerously, and Tommy’s heart leaps into his chest- but he knows it's better to get kicked out then to pretend. Then to wait longer for Techno to snap, to wait until he’s foolishly opened back up his barricades and he can get hurt even worse. No, it’s better to end this here and now- because Techno may care, but Tommy does not.
“Just- Fuck off, Techno.” Tommy spits. “I’m- I’m fine. I know it doesn’t seem like that- but I’ll get better! I will. I don’t need- I don’t need you, and I certainly don’t need anyone else.”
Techno shuts his eyes. “Tommy.” He says, slow and calculated. “I need you to listen to me, alright? Ponk is going to look you over. He’s going to help you. I’m going to help you. And afterwards, once you’re better, you can leave straight away.”
“And what if I say no?” Tommy snarls. “You said it yourself, Techno- you can’t force me to do anything.”
Techno pauses. Tommy can see a war waging behind his eyes- one between his anger and between his uncertainty. Tommy knows which one he’d rather win. He just- he wants Techno to snap. He wants him to leave him alone- to dump him out in the snow to fend for himself.
“Tommy.” Techno says, expression steeled. “I told you that I wouldn’t force you to do anything because you agreed to let me help you. If you don’t let me, I might have to force you Tommy-”
Tommy doesn’t hear anything else- because at those final words, his vision blanks. “I might have to force you too,” Dream had whispered, one fateful day in exile where Tommy ahd, unwisely, chosen to regain his spirit and had refused to give up his items.
He hears Techno talking, barely. It’s more like a muffled radio, voices swimming in and out- almost like he’s switching through channels desperately trying to find a signal. Except Tommy doesn’t want a signal. He wants to disappear. He’s finally gotten a read on Techno- If he refuses to comply, Techno will punish him. It’s not ideal, but it’s finally a goddamn fucking answer.
He sees, through the haze, Techno’s eyes narrow as he realises Tommy isn’t actually listening. He ducks, concern showing briefly on his face, waving his hand across Tommy’s eyes. Tommy doesn’t do anything, merely stares. He can feel himself slowly drifting off. This is good. At least if Techno chooses to punish him, Tommy will not feel it.
Time passes in a blur, and next he knows Ponk is there. Tommy nearly flinches backwards- but finds he doesn’t have full control of his muscles at the moment. Oh well. Ponk seems to be examining him, shining a light into Tommy’s eyes, which gives him a slight headache.
He hears Techno talking loudly, voice sharp and raised, and decides to close his eyes. It’ll be easier to claw back into himself this way, to disappear as easily as he came. Maybe this time he won’t wake up.
Techno paces the room, rubbing a spot on his forehead where a headache seems to be forming. Chat is muttering quietly, a stark difference from their usual loudness. They seem to sense he needs space to think, and most importantly- quiet.
It’s too quiet though. Tommy is too quiet. He’s still sat on the couch, unmoving, eyes closed. His chest rises steadily and although he still suffers from the fever and infection, he doesn’t seem to be getting any worse- which is the only good thing in this scenario.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t even blink, or flinch. Techno doesn’t even know if he’s there.
“Dissociating,” Ponk had told him, voice quiet as if to not wake Tommy up- not like he’d move even when spoken to loudly. “It’s a trauma response. Basically, he’s disconnected from himself and his thoughts, meaning he can’t move or speak.”
“But how do I fix it?” Techno had snapped, and Ponk had looked seconds away from crying- but Techno couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad.
“You’ll just have to wait till it passes, probably. Try sitting with him, or talking to him. Don’t touch him- that could make it worse, especially if that’s something that could set it off. ”
Ponk had left after that, probably put off by his and Tommy’s argument and Techno in general. He’d said to give Tommy a couple of health potions, hooked him up to an IV and gave him some hurried advice for dealing with the illness.
But it’s been a day since then. And Techno- he doesn’t know what to do.
He’d tried sitting with Tommy, and tried talking to him. But it just felt dumb. And Techno was reasonably mad at him as well. At this point, he was starting to get tired of dealing with Tommy. He just keeps causing problems, more and more problems until they all pile up and then it comes crashing down.
Techno’s starting to think he’s made a mistake.
Techno groans, walking over to the wall and banging his head on it repeatedly. That turns out to be a bad idea, it just causes his headache to be even worse and makes him even madder.
His hands twitch. He walks over, picking up the saline bag with a sigh and replacing the empty one in the IV. Tommy doesn’t even twitch, his eyes firmly shut.
Techno studies him for a moment, before realising his legs ache and choosing to sit on the couch instead.
“Ello.” He murmurs. “You’ve really shot this all up, haven’t you.”
Techno sighs, running a hand down his face. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sighed more times than he can count on his two hands in the last week.
“I hate you.” Techno hisses. “I hate you. You’re so… you’re so annoying. You know what I could be doing right now instead of freaking- babysitting? I’d rather- I could go commit acts of terroism! I could go kill some folks! That would be more preferable than… than this!”
Techno covers his face with his hands, screaming until his voice goes raw and rough. Phil hasn’t replied to him in 3 days. Tommy is sick, and now won’t fucking answer him. Chat’s acting weirdly. Ponk knows where he lives now. Prime, he really wants to kill someone.
“I’m… sorry.” A muffled voice whispers. Techno’s eyes shoot open, his immediate reaction being, oh, he’s hallucinating. But no, Tommy’s eyes are open slightly, although fogged over and barely reacting to his surroundings.
“Tommy? You awake?” Techno asks, scooting closer to the boy. Tommy doesn’t react, just blinks slowly.
“Did you.. Did you kill me?” He whispers, and Techno wonders if he heard him wrong. Tommy’s staring at his hands, seemingly entranced by them. “Am I in limbo again?”
“No, Tommy.” Techno sighs. “You’re in my house. You dissociated.”
Tommy blinks. “Oh.” He whispers. “ Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Techno exhales. “You.. good now?”
“I… I don’t know.” Tommy glances at his hands warily, like he’s picking them apart for flaws, searching for a mistake that will show that he’s dreaming. “I still- I still don’t feel… right, I guess? Real? Sorry.” He adds on at the end quickly, shuffling awkwardly on the cushion.
“Nah, it’s ok.” Techno says. “You want me to get you something to eat, or anything else? Or should I just talk.”
Tommy hums softly. “Talking would be good, I think. Is… is it alright if I just listen?”
Techno blinks. “Sure. Whatever you can do, Theseus.” The nickname slips out easily, a small shoot of regret poking at his insides when he sees Tommy wince. “You good with me reading a greek myth?”
Tommy nods numbly, still staring down at his fingers. They wiggle softly like little worms, poking through the dirt and finally getting air.
“The story begins with Orpheus, and extremely talented musician, known by all to play wonderful melodies on his lyre.” Techno begins. “Suddenly, he notices a beautiful tree nymph hidden amongst the leaves of a tree…”
If Techno notices Tommy humming softly while he reads, he doesn’t point it out. If he notices Tommy slowly leaning further and further against his shoulder, he doesn’t point it out. He does notice when Tommy falls asleep on his shoulder- but all he does is pause his reading, placing down the book on the bedside table while being careful not to jostle him.
If he places a blanket on the two of them and sings a soft song that he distantly remembers, then that is only for him to know.
Tommy blinks his eyes open that morning. Everything feels slightly fuzzy. The last thing he remembers was fighting with Techno… and then nothing.
Tommy shifts, then nearly yelps in surprise. Techno is next to him- he slept on Techno? And Techno let him?!
Maybe he’s still dreaming, or drifting, or something. He must be, because Techno would never, ever let Tommy sleep on him.
Tommy flinches as the sound of Techno’s loud snoring blows past his piglin nostrils. Honestly, he’s surprised he only just woke up. He doesn’t know how anyone could sleep through that noise.
Tommy glances around the room, eyes catching on the door. It’s unlocked. Techno… Techno is asleep.
This is his perfect chance!
Tommy gets up as slowly and silently as possible despite how his heart beats with renewed vigour inside his chest, being careful not to bump into or alert Techno. He untangles himself from the blanket, letting it flop against the couch.
Tommy sneaks off the couch, wincing quietly as his bare feet hit the floor and the planks beneath him creak. He glances quickly up at Techno, but the piglin hybrid is still asleep. Out like a light. Probably overworked himself into exhaustion, knowing him.
The door is right there. There’s no lock on it. Cold air slips underneath the door and Tommy shivers. Right. He’s cold. Doesn’t matter- even though Techno’s cape is sitting right there, he could so easily take it- , he just needs to get out of here.
He’s been a burden for far too long.
Tommy slides over to the door, feet gliding across the planks, barely making a sound. He remembers, fleetingly, doing the same thing in Pogtopia, silently climbing to the top of the ravine in a desperate attempt to stop his endless suffocation and choking on dust- but unwilling to wake Wilbur up. Not that Wilbur had been asleep anyway.
The door creaks when opened, Tommy remembers. Unless Techno changed the door since the period Tommy stayed with him after exile.
Tommy leans his head against the wood, watching Technoblade out of the corner of his eye. His hand rests against the cool surface of the handle, and slowly begins turning. It creaks, slightly, but barely enough to even be heard by Tommy.
Now comes the hard part. Pulling the door open.
He edges it open slightly, taking it small steps at a time. The worst part, he knows, will be closing it- but the door still lets out a muffled whine as it edges just large enough for Tommy to get through, and no more. The boy slips through easily, thin form fitting through the gap in the door.
He pulls it shut behind him, wincing at the loud shriek the hinges let out and the muffled slam as the door slides back into position. Tommy pauses, listening, ear twitching as he catches the sound of Techno’s continuous snores.
Still asleep.
It’s then that Tommy decided to celebrate, letting out a quiet whoop and gazing miraculously over his surroundings. Crisp white snow stretches out in every direction, trees springing out of the ground pausing the monotony- although they still are bucketed with white powder.
Tommy breathes, letting the feeling of chill air slip down his throat. His body shivers, although he barely pays it any mind. He quickly rushes down the stairs, toes sinking into the light snow. They immediately curve into his feet, fighting to get away from the freezing material.
Tommy pays it no mind. Sure, he’s cold, but he’s dealt with hypothermia way too many times for it to even be considered a concern. Techno would tell him something like- ‘ThAt dOEsN’t maTtEr TOmMy, yoU cAn sTilL diE’ , but Tommy would just flick him off. He’s a big man, he does not die.
Tommy shakes his head, striding forwards into the snow with a smile on his face. He knows the direction to the nether portal- he’s never forgotten it. It’s burned into his head. While staying with Techno he’d memorised the exact number of steps and the exact best route to take there- just in case something happened.
Tommy sighs, wrapping his arms around himself. He can tell his sickness is leaving him, but his head still swims and his legs hurt from not walking for too long. He won’t make it far. He’ll trip and fall, face-first into the snow, freezing and shivering until he slips asleep. The snow will fall and cover his freezing body, and he will get colder and colder until his heart slows and eventually stops-
Shut up.
Tommy blinks rapidly, dispelling the image of himself frozen and pale faced from the forefront of his mind. He sticks his rapidly blue turning fingers down into the depths of his pockets, relishing in the burning feeling in his nerves as they slowly begin to heat up.
He continues walking, shivers wracking his body- though uncertainty flickers in his mind. What if he doesn’t make it? What if- what if Dream finds him? What if a skeleton shoots him? What if no-one ever finds him? What if Techno-
Tommy blinks. Everything swims around him, his vision turning black for a second as he sways. The next second he’s on the ground, staring up at the bright blue sky, snow soaking through his clothes and sticking to his t-shirt. His heart beats slow in his chest, reverberating through every nerve in his frozen body, his eyes slowly sliding shut as he thinks- maybe it’ll be alright if I just go to sleep-
Tommy blinks, before panic flashing through him. No. No. He will not- he will not give up now. He will get up, and he will march his way to the portal. He will get up-
“Move.” He hisses, words slurring as his mouth tries to form words.
His finger twitches.
“ Move.” Tommy begs himself, a sob slipping from his mouth. “God fucking dammit move!”
His arm twists, flailing to life as he pushes himself up and shoots to his feet, his legs shaking from under him. Everything burns. His fingers are purple, tinging on the edge of grey. The burning has stopped; he can't feel them.
His stomach twists.
The snow sinks under his foot as he shakily steps forward, blinking away the dizziness that threatens to overtake him. You’re ok, his brain whispers. Tommy knows it’s a lie.
His eyes follow the terrain as he slowly twists around. He isn’t that far from Techno’s cottage, only just far enough that it’s starting to go blurry- or maybe that’s just him. But he’s certainly closer to it than the portal.
But this is his only chance.
Tommy sobs, his arms coming to clutch around his stomach. A shrill whine falls from his mouth, dispersing in the air. He just- he just wants… something. He doesn’t know what he wants.
He wants to stop being a burden. He wants to stop being alone. He wants to stop being something everyone hates. He wants to stop hurting.
And in a swift decision, Tommy turns around and stumbles back to Techno’s cabin.
It takes him longer to get back then it took him to get there. There’s a few moments that he doesn’t know if he can continue on, but he does- pushing past the cold that sinks through his bones and the chattering of his teeth, the dizziness overtaking his vision and the ice that sticks to his eyelashes.
When Tommy finally makes it back to the cabin, his shirt is frozen to his back, cloth scrunched and crunchy with ice. His eyes threaten to close, exhaustion weighing on his every step. Tommy doesn’t bother to be careful when pulling open the door, only wincing slightly at the loud screech that grates at his ears.
Tommy immediately discovers that was the wrong idea. Techno, still lying on the couch, shoots open his eyes and shoots to his feet, reaching for his axe. When he sees Tommy standing in the doorway, he immediately relaxes- before almost 5 seconds later testing up again and rushing over to Tommy.
“Are you ok?” Techno grunts, voice pitching in what Tommy assumes is… worry? “Did you get hurt? Why were you outside, you’re sick for goodness sake- holy crap you’re cold-”
“I’m fine, Techno.” Tommy whispers. “I made a mistake. It’s ok. I’m fine. Just… really cold.”
Techno narrows his eyes, but quickly guides Tommy over to the fireplace. He grabs a set of warm clothes and a towel, passing them over to Tommy.
“You can get changed.” Techno murmurs. “I’ll go make you a hot chocolate.”
“Not hungry.” Tommy mutters, but Techno ignores him, wandering off to the kitchen.
Tommy eyes the clothes for a while, eyes watering at the exhaustion that threatens to tug him into unconsciousness. Finally he gives in, pulling off his half-frozen t-shirt and drying off, then changing into the clothes Techno gave him.
They’re far too big, but they’re warm. Cosy, almost. Nostalgic, in a way- it reminds him of staying with Techno after exile.
He’s really got to stop thinking about that. It’s why he has to leave- he can’t let the same thing happen again.
Techno would have disagreed, but Tommy never actually meant to betray Techno. In his mind he wasn’t actually going against Techno- he was going against the part of himself- the very, very small part- that wanted to blow L’manburg to smithereens. At that point, Tommy was scared of himself. He was scared of what he could- of what he would do. He didn’t want to become the bad guy.
Too bad he did that anyway. But nowadays it doesn’t bother him as much.
Why care what bad thoughts you have when you’re a walking corpse?
“Tommy?” Tehno’s voice is soft, questioning, pulling Tommy from his thoughts. He blinks up at Techno, who’s passing him a cup of steaming hot chocolate. Tommy hesitates, before reaching out and cupping it in his fingers. The tips of his fingers tingle, still numb from how frozen they became.
Techno walks away, and Tommy nearly whines, missing how close he was- just because he’s cold, he tells himself, but he knows it’s not true. But Techno returns almost immediately, dropping a fluffy blanket around Tommy’s shoulder.
“We need to talk,” Techno starts, and Tommy’s heart leaps into his throat. “But not now. You need to rest.”
Tommy nods numbly. That won’t end up good.
“Do you… d’you want me to stay?” Techno murmurs, embarrassed- Tommy almost doesn’t catch it from how quiet it is.
“Yeah. If you want.” Tommy adds on quickly. He brings his shaking hands up to his mouth, sipping the hot chocolate. The burning liquid slides down his throat, down to his stomach. His chest feels warm.
Techno smiles softly, seating himself a little way away from Tommy.
Tommy takes another long sip, his eyes beginning to drift shut. He doesn’t notice it until he almost nods off, head tilting forward before he snaps back to consciousness. Techno sighs- and Tommy flinches, preparing for him to hit him- but all Techno does is take the mug from his hands and place it in arms distance away.
Tommy mutters something almost similar to a thanks, his mouth slurring around the words. He doesn’t know if Techno hears it- or even then understands it.
But just before Tommy sinks into sleep, he hears Techno’s voice, soft and gentle, speaking from the other side of the couch.
“No problem, Theseus.”