Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Guilt is a tricky feeling.

It starts out as only a small feeling, but it quickly builds, curling around a whole being with its aching grip. If left untreated, it will grow and consume one’s mental well being, effectively binding them to the cause until release can be found.

Paired with regret, This emotion can rip a person apart from the inside out.

Technoblade knows this feeling. He has been tortured by guilt for so long, and he still doesn’t know what to do. He has no direction, no goal in life. Usually, when he would feel like this, he would talk to his best friend, Quackity. But Quackity is dead.

His lifeless body skewered through with a sword, blood oozing from numerous wounds, while his eyes stared glassy and blank…

No. 

Techno shook his head and pressed the palms of his hands into his burning eyes. No he would not think about that. 

L

So weak…

Fight!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!

”NO” Techno roared, jerking into a sitting position. He groped around blindly for his sword for a moment, before raising his arm up to throw it as far as he could. Then he hesitated. The blade lowered, and Technoblade stared at the image reflected blurring in the dull moonlight. He didn’t recognize the stranger that looked back. Pink hair, once tamed into a braid by skillful hands, now hung loosely, matted with blood and dirt. The skin of his face was pale and sunken, with the drawn and haunted look of death shading his features, and his thin lips were pressed into a emotionless line. But his eyes were what really stunned him. They had once been full of life, despite his grim upbringing, but now they were cold. No fire burned behind those dark orbs, but only embers of the person he had once been.

Twisted wings bent back behind him, no longer graceful, but wrecked and half ripped from their…

The sword slipped from Techno’s shaking grasp and fell with a muffled shudder on the leaves below.

Silence clouded in the hollow where the pink haired teen sat. The tall spruce trees shivered to a stop as the wind stilled, as if not darling to interrupt the moment. No crickets chirped. Then the sky opened up upon the earth and the rain flooded down. It gave a fitting aspect to the despondent picture: A lonely figure silhouetted against the weeping evening sky, welcoming the drops of rain that chilled him.

Drops of blood splattered across the ground…

Technoblade involuntarily grabbed his wrist and squeezed. His nails dug into his skin and blood trickled down his forearm. He watched the red spill out and mix with the mud of the ground. 

Blood spilling out of a cut on his face, Quackity would never be able to see out of that eye again, or see at all for that matter…

Tears threatened in his eyes but he could not-would not- cry. He didn’t deserve to be allowed to cry.

It was all his fault, his fault, his fault his fault hisfaulthisfaulthisfault

”Where are you, you bastards?” Techno jumped to his feet, screaming at the sky, his chest heaving with constricted emotion. “You took everything from me, what do you want now?”

Only the taptap of rain answered his desperate cry. Technoblade whipped around and around, as if expecting some creature to approach from behind. Then he ran.

His breathed quickly, but no oxygen filtered into his lungs. Tree branches lashed at his face and rain slapped him as the wind picked up intensity.

Quackity’s forgiving gaze seared into his memory…

Techno stumbled, tripping in his exhaustion, and tumbled down a small hill. Darkness encroached upon the edges of his vision, and he didn’t fight it.

Maybe he would finally be free…

Chapter Text

It was still raining when Technoblade awoke, but none of the crystal droplets landed on him. He looked up to see the underside an umbrella blocking the storm.

It was then that it registered to Techno that he was half covered in a blanket. But how had that gotten there?

“You know, when it rains and the sun is still shining, it is called a sunshower” Techno scurried back from the man who had just spoken, grabbing his blade.

Techno brandished his sword at the stranger, who wore a green and white bucket hat. Ebony wings dropped over his back, and he had golden hair and cornflower blue eyes that shone despite the dim, stormy surroundings. So, he was an avian.

Sighing, the avian collapsed the umbrella, hair tossing gently in the breeze. “I saw a lonely teen sleeping outside in the cold. And I put a blanket over him and keep him from freezing to death, and this is the thanks that I get?

The stranger shook his head. “Teens these days.” His green and gold robes brushed across the ground, and he slipped silently across the forest floor; seemingly denying the leaves the right to crunch under his light steps.

Techno growled The man halted, then pulled something from a small leather pouch at his waist, and held it out to Technoblade. On instinct, Techno smacked it out of the man’s hand before swinging the sword at him.

“Jeeze, Mate, calm down. It’s just a sandwich.” The bird man said, stepping backward and out of reach of the feral teen and his weapon. Techno retrieved the thing, the ‘sandwich’ to see what it was. It was wrapped in a paper bag, and he opened it slowly, pulling out the slightly squashed bread, ham, and cheese construction.

Oh it smelled HEAVENLY. Technoblade’s mouth began to water as the delicious aroma flooded his senses. But his stomach clenched at the thought of food…

Blood, blood everywhere. Spattering his clothes, his face, his sword…

So he handed it back to the avian, who eyed him carefully. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Techno looked down at his hands, responsible of so much violence, and capable of so much more, and shook his head.

“Are you sure, mate, you look like you haven’t eaten in awhile.” Technoblade could have cried, right then and there at how familiar the phrase was. Quackity was the one who always made sure that Techno ate, even when he was focused on training. Quackity had always been the one who made sure that Techno took care of his personal needs.

There was the soft sound of movement, and Techno looked up to find himself face to face with the avian. His breath caught in his throat. “My name is Philza, what is yours?”

Run

Blood

L

FIGHT!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!

Techno let out a whimper as Philza reached up with one rough, calloused hand to slowly wipe off the dirt smudged on his cheek. The voices pounded in his head, but Techno was frozen, rooted to the spot. He longed to lean into the gentle touch, to give into his touch starved needs, to trust the avian. But the terror was too great, and the pink haired teen leaned away from Philza.

Philza’s hand fell back to his side, and for a moment Techno was scared he would hit him, but his fears were disproved. Holding his gaze steady, Philza spoke in a quiet tone. “What’s your name?”

No, whispered Techno’s mind. No this was a bad idea. Philza could get hurt, Techno could kill him, he could- wait. Philza is a stranger. Technoblade shook his head. How could he trust this man, whome he had just met? Finally, the avian stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing.

Yeah, this would be a stupid idea. Techno can survive just fine, he wasn’t sad that Philza was leaving…

***

Philza looked over his shoulder at the strange boy he had just met. He longed to know more of his story: where had he come from? Why was he coated in blood? What was his name?

Philza couldn’t explain exactly what drew him to this kid, the avian wasn’t really the fatherly type, or even the friendly type to begin with.

Maybe the kid reminded him of himself.

When he looked into the eyes of the pink haired teen, Phil saw a child who had been forced to act like an adult far too soon. A broken person who just wanted to be loved. He saw someone who had faced death, and welcomed it, only to be rejected.

Philza was the same.

He had been prepared to die at one point too, but Lady Death had told him he was still needed. At the time, Phil had been confused, but maybe this was what he was supposed to do. Maybe he and this scared and lonely teen were destined to meet.

But no, that couldn’t be right. The Angel of Death, he was called. A loner, and the slayer of a thousand foes.

And yet… The teen’s eyes tore at his hardened heart, softening it with his desperate gaze. That kid just wanted a home, someplace safe.

Phil sighed, and turned around.

***

Philza grabbed Techno’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come with me, mate.”

“Where?” Techno barely whispered, this being the first time he had spoken in several days.

The corner of the bird man’s mouth twitched up in a half smile. “Where the wind leads us.”

Techno nodded. It wasn’t like he had anything he had anything better to do.

Chapter Text

“Do you think he’s dead?”

Light streamed down into his eyes, as he blinked them open, making him aware of the pain he was currently in. Why did everything hurt so much?

“No, Tommy from the streets, he just opened his eyes.”

“Where am I?” The man sat up slowly, gasping at the agony that stabbed through his stomach and ribs. He was laying in a grassy flower field full of sheep, and a raccoon hybrid and a weird slime creature were standing nearby, staring worriedly at him.

“You probably shouldn’t be moving yet,” The raccoon hybrid said, kneeling next to him and carefully lowering him back to the ground. “Charlie, could you hand me the healing potions?” The slime thing-Charlie- complied, passing over the vial of glittering pink liquid. Uncorking it, the racoon hybrid lifted the stranger’s head, and tipped the glass bottle’s contents down his throat. The man shivered at the tingling sensation that flowed from his stomach all the way to the extremities of his limbs.

“Hi, I’m Tommy,” The racoon hybrid introduced. “Who are you? You’re an avian, right?”

“No one.” The avian slowly propped himself up on his elbow, flexing his wings slightly. “No one that matters anyways.”

It was silent for a moment. Charlie was the first to speak. “Everyone is someone from somewhere, I’ve lived a long time, and seen a lot of people! Even people who claim they don’t matter still have great things left to do.”

The man stared at the slime hybrid, then shrugged dismissively, trying to act as though he wasn’t affected by the knowledgeable words that had just been spoken. “I’m from the Las Nevades Arena.”

“Where is that?” Tommy frowned thoughtfully. “I don't think I have heard of it.”

The man ran a calloused hand through his dark hair. It felt weird for his head to not be covered with its usual black beanie. “You shouldn’t know about it. It isn't exactly a place for children like you.”

Tommy bristled at this. “I am NOT a fucking child!” He protested, rolling up his sleeves. “You fucking shit teen. I’ll show YOU who’s a fucking child!”

The man chuckled, although his hand traveled away from his hair and down to the knife still belted to his waist. “You have quite a mouth on you, kid, I’ll give you that.”

Charlie put a calming hand on Tommy’s shoulder, preventing him from his unwelcome onslaught. “No need to fight, Tommy from the streets. This man is wounded, it wouldn't be a fair battle.”

If only you knew, thought the man. I could have already killed you if I wanted to.

“What is your name, Stranger from Las Nevades? You never told us.”

The man finally pushed himself into a full sitting position, despite Tommy’s earlier orders. “I go by Quackity, although my real name is Alex.”

Charlie held out a hand. “It is nice to meet you, Quackity from Las Nevades!”

Quackity smiled, and took the outstretched hand. But his mind was not focused on the present. He was remembering a certain pink haired teen, who liked potatoes and frogs.

Chapter Text

It was strange, Techno thought, how people are able to wake up and live perfectly normal lives even after a traumatic experience. He was lying on his back on the floor of the room Philza had given him to stay in.

It was a smaller room, with the bed placed on the right hand side, with a bed stand on its left. A dresser made of dark oak leaned against the left wall, next to a bookshelf that doubled as a dresser. A set of folded clothes rested on the shelf, as well as several stacks of books. An intricate rug patterned the wooden floor, adding color and vibrancy to the space.

Rolling over, Technoblade stood up and stretched, wincing as his joints popped and muscles protested at the action. Dressing quickly in the clothes he had been provided, Techno buckled on his sword and exited the bedroom.

Last night after they had arrived at this maze of a home, Philza had given Techno a brief tour of his house, but there were so many twists and turns that the groggy teen was soon lost, wandering about the hallways.

Finally, Techno found himself in a hallway lined with doors that looked almost like… dorm rooms? Why were there dorm rooms in this place?

Creeeeeeeaaaaaaakkk. 

Techno’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword as a door opened behind him, and a tall, lanky man walked out. No, not a man, The teen couldn’t be older than Techno with his youthful features, but his height made him appear older upon first glance. He wore round glasses that framed his dark brown eyes, half hidden under a mop of curly brown hair. He stared at Techno in surprise.

“Hello there, I didn’t realize Phil had picked up new recruits.”

Technoblade’s breath caught in his throat. New recruits? For what, a battle, another arena? Did Philza know who he was? Did he only want him because he was a weapon?

The brunet must have sensed Techno’s anxiety because he laughed, “Well that’s what I call them anyways. We are really all just classmates. I’m Wilbur, by the way, and I like your hair.” He stuck his hand out in greeting. Techno took the hand offered to him, and shook it, but he didn't speak. Wilbur didn't seem to mind.

“You are lost, I presume,” Wilbur leaned back against the wall. “Well never fear, the geography nerd is here! Just follow me and I will get you to class.” Techno obeyed silently, trailing after the energetic, tall boy. He was starting to think that this wasn’t just a mansion.

“Wilbur, what are you doing out of class?”

The brunet froze, but Techno didn’t register this in time, slamming into the other teen and sending both of them sprawling on the ground. Techno’s face flamed red at his clumsiness, but Wilbur lept straight to his feet.

“Oh you know how it is, just helping out a new student, he was lost. You know Phil, you might want to make more maps of this place, you might get lost too, what with your ancient memory and all.” Wilbur smiled innocently at Philza, who stared back with stern intensity.

“Oh get gone, you little shit.” A slight grin had formed on Philza’s face, and he watched as Wilbur trapessed away from them, running backwards around the corner and waving bye to Techno simultaneously.

“Sorry about that,” Philza peered down at Techno, and reached a hand out to pull him to his feet, “Wilbur is a bit of a menace to society.”

“Is this a school?” Techno tugged at a thread that had come loose from the fabric of his shirt.

Philza frowned thoughtfully. “Yes, and no. This is an ancient dwelling, constructed by the demon prince Halo, or ‘Bad’ as he is sometimes known, and his friend Skeppy, a powerful elemental spirit. They wished to create a haven for folk of all kinds, a place of rest for the wanderer, and a study for the scholar. They named it Hart, to symbolize the most important part of mortality. Education is provided and encouraged, but not imposed for younger residents. You will not be forced to take classes here, but I highly recommend it. Not only will it keep you busy, but you may find some friends.

Friends.

Technoblade has only ever had one friend, and he is dead, killed by Techno’s own sword.

Death Angel

Techno sad?

Blood.

WILBUR!

BLOOD!!

NO SCHOOL!!!

WE REVOLT!!!

School is good for you though!

The demons started clamoring inside his head, and red blurred at the edges of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of crumpling to the ground and clamping his hands over his ears, while Philza called his name over and over.

The demons were taking over,

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!!

Enemy?

FIGHT!

WE WANT BLOOD!

KILL THE DEATH ANGEL!!!

Techno stiffened as his senses were overwhelmed by the intruders. HE had known this would happen. Why oh why didn’t he listen to his instincts back in the forest? He could have avoided all of this. And such a shame too, Philza was so nice… Techno pushed away his thoughts, and buried his heart away from emotion. Be numb, he willed himself. It doesn’t matter. But part of Technoblade was breaking, no matter how much he lied to himself.

***

This kid is not normal. That’s what Philza was thinking at that moment. The poor boy had collapsed on the ground, and was shaking and muttering as if he was insane.

Phil crouched down near Techno. “Mate, are you okay? Can you hear me? Technoblade?”

Phil grabbed Techno’s shoulder and shook him gently.

“Don’t.” Techno threw off Phil’s arm.

Relieved that Techno was responding, Phil relinquished his hold of Techno. “Technoblade, you had me worried for a second there!” he laughed nervously.

Techno began to chuckle, and Philza backed away from him, drawing his weapon. Something was vastly wrong. “Technoblade?”

Techno looked at Philza, and the red gaze chilled the avian to his core.

“Oh, he can't hear you anymore, Death Angel.”

Chapter Text

Philza wasn’t worried. He simply wasn’t! And the reason couldn't be at all that some Blood god demons were possessing this orphan child he had picked up. 

Techno- or really the demons in Techno- drew their sword. Phil drew his own, but he wasn’t too keen on using it. He didn't want to hurt the teen, just prevent him from attacking. Phil deepened his stance, and took a defensive position.  

Techno/the demons lunged forward, swinging his blade with deadly skill. Phil parried, refusing to push for the offensive, and hoping that Techno would soon regain control of himself. 

Phil gritted his teeth and darted out of the way of another stab. “Let him go.” Philza’s voice was low, and his eyes glittered dangerously.

“ Oh, you care about him, don’t you?” The demons smiled. Upon Techno’s face however, the smile seemed more like a grimace, pained almost. Regretful. “ You should know, Death Angel, better than to allow yourself to care. In truth, so should this brat, especially after last time.”

Last time? Philza wasn’t just mad now, he was furious. He whipped his blade around and locked it with his opponent’s, before stepping forward and kicking him backwards. The demons’ yelped as their host fell back against the wall, leaving a noticeable dent.

Phil lifted his sword and brought it down on Techno’s blade, but to his surprise, his blade shattered. Metal shards twinkled in the light from the windows, ringing like tiny bells as they bounced over the tiled floor. 

Techno/the demons surged upwards with newfound strength, but Phil vaulted back, completing a full flip before landing and sprinting off down the corridor. He needed to lead Techno out of the school, then he could deal with him without any students being hurt. 

The avian rounded the corner, before coming face to face with Wilbur, who had evidently not gone to class and was instead vaping in this usually unoccupied hallway. Phil muttered a few explicit words under his breath before grabbing Wilbur by the wrist and tugging him along behind him. 

“Phil?” Wilbur managed to look apologetic, surprised, and worried all at once. “I’m sorry! I can explain! Don’t tell Halo-”

“Shut up.”Phil snapped. “We have other things to worry about right now, although I do expect a full explanation after this is over.”

“After what is over?” Wilbur glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened at the pursuing figure behind them. “Isn’t that the new kid?” 

Philza ignored him, choosing rather to map out a plan of action in his mind. He needed to get Wilbur to safety. If he followed this corridor, and took a left, he would arrive in the mess hall, and the first years were in there, so that wasn’t an option. To the left were the classrooms, which for obvious reasons were also not available. That left the rooftop as the only choice.

Dragging Wilbur with him, Phil yanked open the stairway door and clambered up them three at a time. He emerged on the roof and instantly almost fell from the wind and rain that battered him. Shuttering his wings tightly against his back to avoid being blown about, the avian worked his way over to the other roof entrance, and opened it, shoving Wilbur down onto the stairs. 

“ Death Angel, ” The demons sing-songed behind him. “You can’t run forever.” Techno’s hair was slicked down with rain, and his neatly plaited braid had come undone, stringy strands glistening with water.

“You're not even supposed to exist in this realm,” Philza countered, backing towards the edge of the roof and balancing on the precipice. 

“ In that respect we are both unnatural, however, I think you are the one who has most outstayed their time on this plane.” 

Techno/ the demons flung a knife through the air. Philza saw it in slow motion as it revolved through the air. He tried to step out of the way, but he had forgotten he was on a ledge and he began to tip backwards. 

On its current trajectory, the knife would hit Philza before he could fall out of range- with a most likely lethal shot.

***

Wilbur was usually a pretty good kid. He scored well in school, and actually listened to his teachers. He was a bit of a pushover, and was known as a teacher’s pet, although he didn’t have quite good enough grades for that. However, he knew when he had to disobey, and how not to get caught doing so. 

Wilbur wouldn't say he was addicted to smoking and drugs, he just… needed them because they quieted the voices in his head that urged him to kill, and the avian instincts that influenced his actions. 

So no, he wasn’t addicted, it was a...choice.

It honestly wasn’t as hard to hide as Wilbur had originally thought upon coming to the school. He had presumed it would be difficult to hide his unhealthy habits, but it was surprisingly easy. For someone who was wholly against all drink and drugs, as well as swearing, Halo was very lax about keeping things under record.

Maybe that was why Wilbur was so unprepared for Philza to come charging around the corner with the new student charging after him like a rabid animal.

Well that’s one way to put a forceful end to addiction! Father figure comes barging in followed by a feral teen. Wilbut thought. What even is my life?

Or maybe he was just unlucky

He was pulled along by Phil through the hallways and up onto the roof, where he was promptly returned down the stairs through another entrance. Everything was moving way too fast for Wilbur. He was high and his head was spinning. He didn’t understand what was going on, so he watched from under the trapdoor as Philza and the new kid fought. 

And he watched as the teen withdrew a throwing knife from his sleeve. 

Oh shit. He was going to kill Phil.

***

Phil saw a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. Oh Wilbur was going to be in so much trouble if Phil ever got a chance to talk to that boy.

Wilbur let out an extremely avian scream, and Philza’s instincts decided that fighting could wait.

***

Very fortunately for him, so did Techno’s. The demons retreated under the flood of new unfamiliar instincts that poured over his mind at the avian sound Wilbur made, shouting protect, flock, brother , and his body shuddered with sharp pain that radiated down from his shoulder blades to his lower back.

Fluffy brown and red hawk wings erupted in bloody, matted protrusions from Techno’s back, and he shouted with pain.

Phil stared in shock at the chaos that had enfolded in less than three seconds before his eyes. With a powerful swoosh of his wings he alighted once again on the roof before sinking to his knees by Wilbur, who had fainted from pain.

“Wilbur, mate, shit. I-I don’t know what to do.” This was Phil’s fault, he shouldn’t have brought Techno here, Wilbur now might die because of his mistake-

A soft churrrrrrup broke Philza from his guilty thoughts. Technoblade had crawled over next to him and Wilbur and had placed one calloused hand over Wilbur’s wound.

“GET AWAY!” Phil bellowed, cradling Wilbur to his chest. Techno shrank back, looking for all the world like a forlorn sparrow, with his ragged wings and soaked clothing. Then Technoblade shook his head and gripped the dagger that was embedded in Wilbur. He yanked it out before Philza could think to respond and placed his hand on the wound  again.

A low inhuman growl burrowed up from Phil’s throat. But Techno ignored him, and the hand he had pressed over Wilburs stab wound was glowing a vivid pink. Phil watched in wonder as the injury closed seemingly of its own accord, weaving into a knotted pink scar.

Suddenly, Techno crumpled against his side, and Phil became aware of his heavy panting. Healing must take a lot out of him. Phil tented his wings over their heads as the rain came down stronger in torrents around them.

He should report to Halo, let him know what happened.

But he was just so tired…

Chapter Text

[Number 3 Test Files]

Overseer: XD
Cell 46

Species: Avian
Subtype: Corvis
Age: 24

Attachments: Number 7, [Redacted], Number 16

[April 23, 1489]

Number 3 has not yet responded to injections, there are no physical differences other than a slight drowsiness induced by the narcotics. Perhaps they are limiting the effects of the injections.

[April 25, 1489]

3 has not spoken for a day, it refuses to eat and whenever we try to come near, it traces the same pattern on the floor, a crescent moon. I have taken it off the narcotics, and have had it bound to keep it from hurting himself. It does seem to be in pain, although when I offered it medications it turned them down. It is scheduled to have his second injection next week.

[May 2, 1489]

Number 3 responded very positively to the second injection, and is now recovering in his cell. It is eating again, but has still spoken little since I last saw it. Its wings seem to have grown, which is strange for its age, but may be a late side effect of the first injection.

[May 20, 1489]

Injection two gives super strength. Last night 3 broke down the walls of its cell and killed 15 guards before it escaped. Remember to reinforce chains and walls next time.

Experiment: Successful.

Status: Missing.

Chapter Text

It had been half a week since the incident.

Well, “incident” was a relative word. Truthfully, it could refer to any number of things. It was an open-ended term, which Wilbur supposed was good in songs and stories, but it felt a little wrong using it in real life. It left so many questions to be answered, but he guessed it was as good a name as any for what had happened, considering the chaos that had taken place that day.

Wilbur didn’t actually remember much of what had gone on, but Philza had explained it as soon as the brown eyed teen had woken up the day after the fact. 

Supposedly, Techno was a child Philza had picked up while on his travels. That in itself wasn’t that hard to believe. After all, that is what had happened to himself. But Philza’s excuse for Technoblade’s odd behavior was more questionable. Phil had told Wilbur that Techno was a “mentaly troubled and traumatized child” who had lost his head for a bit while training with Philza. 

It still seemed strange though, the way how his memories and fever dreams aligned, or didn’t, in this case with the tale. Parts were missing, and much of it was misty and unclear in his mind. However, he did remember one thing. He placed his hand thoughtfully over the place where he had been stabbed through.

Wilbur wanted to go and ask Technoblade what had happened, but Philza had told him no when he had inquired about visiting the teen, claiming that it was “too dangerous” 

Well fuck him!

Wilbur sighed, and slipped down from the hospital bed where he had slept for the last day or so. He had been required to stay there despite his complaints, first so that he could be checked for any signs of remaining injury that had escaped the healing Technoblade had provided, and second so that Philza had time to remove any last traces of vape, drugs, or alcohol he had hidden in his dorm room.

Lets just say Wilbur wasn’t feeling too well with withdrawal.

And when Wilbur doesn’t feel too well he often makes idiotic choices.

***

Techno awoke with a start. He was imprisoned in a cold, dim cell. The only light emanated from a flickering torch by the door. Techno wondered if he could somehow use it to escape. He tried to stand but he was yanked viciously backwards by a set of iron cuffs, previously unnoticed, that chained him to the floor. 

He was… chained to the floor. He couldn't escape.

Trapped

L

Techno sad?

Birdblade

Birdy in a cage

“SHUT UP!” Techno snarled at the voices, ever unhelpful as they always were. He sucked in a breath as all of the memories crashed down on him in a wave.

Philza and Wilbur, and the Demons and…

Oh, that’s right. He has wings…

Techno glanced over his shoulder at his new appendages. They sprouted from his upper back, just below the deltoid muscles and extended only a foot and a half in full length. They were severely undersized compared to a normal teen avian, but Techno had just grown in his wings. He flexed them slowly. They were a bit sore, and the skin around where they had erupted was scabbed and inflamed, but they didn’t seem to be damaged other than that.

Still, Techno had a sense of intense wrongness that lingered with him. A feeling that wasn't caused by the terror of being trapped or fear of his unknown future. If Techno didn’t know better he would say he was lonely. But Technoblade was never lonely. Even on the occasion when Quackity would leave to fight at another arena, Techno hadn’t been lonely. He had missed his friend of course, but he didn’t long for simple interaction like he did now.

A small sad chirp wrestled its way from Techno’s throat. He was alone.

Techno sad?

Birdblade

Wilbird come to the rescue!

Technoblade never cries!

But indeed Techno was crying. A tear slipped down his face, followed by many more despite his attempts to stop it. A sob slipped out. Why was he being so emotional? Techno clenched his teeth as he trembled there in the dancing shadows of the torch, trying to stifle the chirps and whines that continued to slip out of him.

***

Wilbur rested a hand on the door handle, and hesitated only a little before pulling the door open.

It took him a moment to take in the scene before him.

A boy, presumably Technoblade, was hunched over on the floor, chained to the ground. He was rugged and dirty, and he had wings, almost painful to look at, all ruffled with bent feather shafts. Techno lifted his head and uttered several mournful chirps that absolutely tore at Wilbur’s heart. 

Wilbur hadn’t remembered that Technoblade was an avian, although Wilbur could tell he wasn’t even a true avian. He had just fledged. An avian usually fledges at age 10 , and no later than 12 . Technoblade couldn’t be younger than 16. He had to be a hybrid of some sort. 

Wilbur approached Technoblade where he sat on the ground and reached into the pocket of his coat for the key he had stolen from Halo’s office. He unlocked Technoblade’s cuffs and put them aside, mumbling “No bird should be chained like this.” He would have to speak to Halo and Phil, no matter if they found out that he had disobeyed them, this was just plain cruel!

Techno watched Wilbur with a steady gaze, but skittered away as soon as he was untethered by the cuffs, rubbing his wrists to restore circulation. 

“What do you want?” he grunted.

Wilbur blinked, startled. “I-I don’t want anything.”

“Then why are you here?” Technoblade tilted his head distrustfully.

“I just, uh, had a few questions to ask you about what happened the other day, and I also kind of wanted to piss off Phil. And, well, you looked pretty miserable in here.” Wilbur gestured to the tear stains that streaked through the grime on Techno’s cheeks. 

Techno rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What do you want to know?” He asked, turning half away towards the door, as if expecting someone to leap out at him.

Wilbur didn’t respond for a moment, then he reached gently for Techno’s wing. “Do you mind if I…” the brunette trailed off into silence. Techno’s eyes widened. He tried to pull away from the touch, but the bird instincts in his brain leaned into it and he trilled softly. “You shouldn’t be by yourself after fledging.”

“That’s it,” Wilbur ran his hand through the tawny feathers, straightening them and carefully picking off crusted blood. “I promise you are safe here. I won’t let them imprison you again.” Techno let out a string of chirps and all but melted at the way Wilbur combed his feathers, despite how his mind screamed at him to run. The pink haired teen slumped backwards as Wilbur began to brush lightly at the base of his wings, careful to avoid the inflamed skin there. He warbled softly to Technoblade and the younger responded with a soft chirp. Part of Techno wondered where Wilbur’s wings were, if he was an avian, but his brain felt like syrup and coherent thought was impossible.

Techno was drowned so deep in his instincts that he didn't notice when the demons began to clamor, he just continued to lay against Wilbur as he preened his wings. Finally Techno’s eyelids fluttered open and he stiffed, while gazing up at Wilbur with wide eyes and dilated pupils. Wilbur frowned slightly. “What's wrong, fledgling?” he murmured.

Techno let out a whine and began to shake. His mind was a battlefield of warring instincts.

Technosoft

Safe-friend-warm

Idiot Birdblade is gonna get kiiiillled

Safe-home–protected

  BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!

Techno sat up with a growl and clamped his clawed hands over his ears. (claws? When did he get claws?)  Wilbur froze. “Hey you okay?” he stroked Techno’s wings.

“They won’t leave!” Techno felt his breathing quicken. “You should go, chain me up again, I’m not safe to be around.”

Wilbur slipped a hand into the pink hair, carding through the tangled matted mess. “You shouldn’t be alone as a fledgling.” Wilbur didn’t actually remember entirely why this was the case, he just remembered screaming alone in the dark when he grew his wings, and begging for someone- anyone- to come and help him. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Techno’s thoughts muddled farther as this near stranger scratched at his scalp. The demons faded into distant whispers and the newly winged avian began to sink towards sleep. “Th’ Dem’ns. Th’ won’t be qu’et.” He slurred and darkness clouded his vision. 

“You’re exactly like me, aren't you?” Wilbur brushed his fingers all the way to the end of Techno’s hair and began to plait  it. He was beginning to feel groggy too, and once he tied off the braid, he wrapped his arms around Techno and fell asleep. He didn't have to be alone anymore. Neither of them did.

****

Back in the main school building, a girl with dark hair and blond streaks ran up to Philza. “Phil! I can’t find WIlbur anywhere!”

Philza facepalmed. “That kid is going to make me have an early retirement.”

Chapter Text

Phil had searched everywhere, looking in the hospital, the dorm rooms, the hallways, even the classrooms! But Wilbur was nowhere to be found. 

“Where the fuck did that child go.” Phil slouched on a blue bench in a long corridor lit with moonlight from outside. He had really fucked up letting Technoblade come to the school, Wilbur had been injured, and he didn’t know how the hell it happened, but Technoblade had grown wings. 

A shouted word drew him from his self blame. “PHIl!”

”WHAT! “ He shouted back irritably, and Niki, who had just run up flinched visibly, but began speaking without any hesitation.

”I found Wilbur! He told me to come get you.” She told him nervously.

Phil felt regret arc through him. He shouldn’t have yelled at Niki, she was one of the kindest and sweetest people he knew, he should apologize… but before he could voice his regret Niki seized his hand and began leading him behind her. “This way!” She announced.

After he recovered from the initial shock, Phil glanced around and realized they were going to the prison cells. What the fuck? 

Finally, Niki stopped in front of a cell- Technoblade’s cell- and turned to leave. “Niki, wait. I wanted to say I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.” The girl smiled.

“It’s alright, Phil, you’re just stressed.” She slipped off silently into the darkened passageway.

Phil braced himself before knocking quietly. The door opened softly with a creak and Wilbur appeared. Shadows from dim torchlight flickering over his features and made his face look drawn and taunt. A surge of anger rose in Phil but he shoved it down. “What is this, Wilbur?” He asked. Forcing his voice to remain neutral. 

Wilbur opened the door farther, saying nothing. Against the far wall sat Technoblade. Hands over his ears like a scared child, and he was letting out a small keening sound. Oh, it was was a call for flock. Phil shook out his wings, attempting to ignore the bird instincts that threatened to overwhelm his logical thinking. That chaotic little shit had something in mind.

Wilbur glanced down at the ground and fidgeted slightly. “He just grew his wings in.”

”And?”

“He needs someone to bond with, and I can’t do it.” Wilbur looked up with tears in his eyes, and Phil felt even worse than before to have forgotten. He was an avian for Prime’s sake. Fledglings need to bond with someone when their wings grow, typically dying without someone to bond to. However, Wilbur had been different. Despite the pain and loneliness he must have felt, the brunette had struggled through fledging by himself, only to get his wings clipped by hunters. After years of torture, the fourteen year old Wilbur had finally escaped, before being promptly snatched up by a kidnapper. Phil had found him overworked, abused and on the edge of breaking down when he had been sent to investigate a drug dealing gang. 

Judging by the dilated pupils, and how Wilbur had called Phil even though he knew he would get in trouble, Wilbur had tried to make a sibling bond with Technoblade, and failed. Phil placed a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and leaned close, whispering in his ear. “It’s not your fault.” 

Wilbur’s chest heaved with a sob and he crashed into Phil’s arms. The older wrapped his arms around the teen, then both straightened as another keening sound echoed through the small chamber. 

“Hey Technoblade.” Phil sat down on the grimy floor, wincing at the loose chains on the ground. Who the fuck had allowed this? 

***

Technoblade couldn’t hear Philza, only the pounding headache in his mind from the uncompleted bond. He couldn’t bond.. he didn’t deserve it. 

He hoped Wilbur didn’t blame himself too much, because it wasn’t actually his fault at all.