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His hands were something he did not think about anymore.
Even when they were in front of him, marked ashen black and unfeeling, he hardly spared them a thought. He had chosen this life after all, had chosen to latch onto the forbidden skulls of withers despite the warnings and use their power to fight, to survive. Grasping onto the skulls did nothing anymore. Sometimes it would evoke a tingling feeling under his fried finger pads when he would put them in place above the soul sand structures, but even that has become a welcome feeling after the nothingness there besides the occasional shooting pain for so long.
He did not regret it, no. It was what helped him to strive on the battlefield, to survive. When people viewed him, blood soaking his clothes and skulls hanging at his side, ready to be picked and used, they knew that unlike others he would not be afraid to utilize the cursed item. He could hold one in each hand to hold up and watch as the people cowered in fear at the display. Just him being able to hold them so freely was a sight that brought upon horror, that showed his power. It was an advantage, a saving grace.
But still…
In moments like these where Phil is holding his blackened hand in his own that looks so small in comparison, he couldn’t help but wonder how the Avian’s skin would feel against his own. He wonders if Phil’s hands are warm. He doubts it. With Phil’s tendency to shiver even at a slight chill from his hollow bones, he thinks they would be cold. Even so, he would still want to feel them. He would still want to grasp his dear friend’s hand into his own palm until it warmed up in his own, until his friend was not shivering anymore. He longs to feel that touch.
“Do they hurt?”, Phil asks quietly, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
They were sitting together in their cabin on the couch, his book he was reading forgotten and placed to the side once he realized that the man beside him was holding his hand. He flips Phil’s hand in his own over, looking at his palms. They looked soft. Sure, they were a bit worn from the way the man was constantly busying himself in a flurry of projects, but they still looked gentle, a stark contrast in his own marred with dark magic.
“Nah.” Well, it’s mostly the truth. Sometimes dull pain would shoot through them, often at the most inconvenient of times as well, but it was something he had grown used to, something that was just a part of him now. Phil’s eyebrow furrows a bit in worry, and ah, of course the man would worry about something that didn’t matter like this. He grasps onto Phil’s hand, squeezing it as if it would make some feeling come back before letting go and picking up his book once more. “Wanna hear the next chapter, or call it a night?”
“Mate…”, It sounds as if he is going to push the subject more, but he sighs, shaking his head slightly before leaning against Techno’s side, cuddling against him, a touch he can feel very well. It is soothing. “Sure. I’m not tired yet.”
Techno hums, resisting the urge to make a joke about the man always being tired from old age despite the way he hasn’t looked like he’s aged at all. He flips the book open to where he left his bookmark, one of Phil’s feathers carefully pressed and embossed, and finds the sentence where he left off. His rumbling words capture Phil’s attention, and he loses himself in the story long enough to not notice that Phil had drifted off, only a soft sleepy chitter alerting him to the fact. He laughs quietly at the sight.
“Nerd..”, he mumbles fondly as he closes the book. He gently picks the man up, the weight familiar in his arms as he quietly walks to the man's room, the nest there waiting for its owner.
With cursed hands he gently sets his friend down into the mess of pillows and plushes inside, Phil barely waking, only curling up in the comforts and stretching his good wing a bit. The room is a bit chilly for Phil, it must be with the way he shivers slightly when he burrows himself more into the nest. He pulls a blanket over the sleeping man, hoping it can warm him like his hands could not.
The day of reckoning had come.
Phil was scurrying around the cabin with multiple glass bottles in his arms, piling potions into the ender chest before going back to the brewing stand, blaze powder making the man’s nose scrunch up as he readied the stand for the next potions, a cycle they both knew well.
“Will TNT really be enough though?”, Dream asks as he sits atop one of the chests in the corner in full netherite Techno had given him, legs crossed as he boredly watches the other two work. Techno rolls his eyes.
“You were the one who suggested TNT.”, he points out. There's no use bothering with the man though. He may have similar interests with them in wanting Lmanburg gone, but he still didn't fully trust him. Phil shared the same sentiment. He hums, focusing on the plan. “But of course not. Gonna hit them with some of these too.”
He reaches into the chest, pulling out a wither skull. Dream whistles, impressed.
“Should have expected that knowing you.”, Dream says, hand under his chin. “But what’s the plan, we can’t spawn withers on the ground and be up there dropping TNT. Don’t you plan on releasing your dogs too?”
“Wolves, but yup..”, He says, mind already forming ideas. Whoever was setting them off on the ground will be in the midst of the chaos down below. Be close to the TNT dropping down on its target and exploding, be close to the Lmanburg citizens who might retaliate with their swords and arrows. The person would need a quick way to get back up to the safety the obsidian grid above would offer. The hidden pools of water for the riptide tridents they had to get back up would be too risky of a jump with the withers there who could attack and throw them off their flight path. His eyes wander to Phil and his striking black wings.
The man couldn’t fly anymore, no, not after the explosion that left one of his wings damaged at the bottom, causing the man pains and making his balance off that he had trouble walking for days after the explosion, but Techno has seen the way the man is able to still hold a glide for a short distance. He would be able to safely get to the grid in comparison to him or Dream.
“Philza!”
“Best friend!”
“E”
“he only has one life tho…”
He looks away after hearing the reminder from the last voice. They were right. It would be all too easy for Phil to lose his only life down there in the chaos, to die along with the government that almost killed them both before. He shouldn’t risk his only friend’s life, he couldn’t…
“You want me to do it?”, Phil pipes up, turning over to Techno.
“It would be dangerous.”, Techno says which just causes the man to laugh.
“This whole thing is dangerous mate. Everything we do like this is.”, Phil reminds him, looking at him without a hint of fear or worry on his face. He should have known. Techno was constantly thinking about Phil’s life status, but Phil seemed to hardly be bothered by it at all.
“Fine. You can do it. But you’re carrying totems, got it?” He says which just causes the man to smile more, sharp teeth showing.
“You worry too much. But alright, I'll waste space on one.”, Phil agrees thankfully. Techno’s shoulders relax despite the uneasiness still in his chest as he fishes out some totems, handing them to Phil first before he hands him the bag of wither skulls. Phil takes them both in kind, grabbing soul sand to go with them. “Potions are done. Make sure to take as many as you think you’re going to need.”
“Thanks.”, Techno says. He doesn’t think this would all work without Phil there, just as things always are with their projects. He feels determined. Today was going to be the day they paid for what they did to the two. For the way they dragged and caged him, trying to kill him in front of his best friend. For the way they trapped Phil in that place, almost killing him with an arrow which he had found out later on. The government that lead to the injustice against them should have known this was coming. He had tried to be peaceful, and they came and messed with his horse, messed with his closest friend. And well, now they would know very well never to do that again.
A totem had saved him that day on the execution stand, stitching together his broken skull and skin with golden seams that still stood out on his face. He hopes the same will not happen to Phil, that he will not need to use the totems as he had, to feel the pain of dying and coming back to life. He doesn’t know how he would swallow the guilt of seeing a golden scar much like his own anywhere on the winged man.
Dream is already getting up, hands reaching for the potions, picking freely from them as if he had been the one to spend the time and resources getting them. Techno ignores him, making sure he has potions on him and that Phil still had the totems close. He nods.
“I’ll get the hounds ready…Do what you have to do and come up to the grid as quickly as you can.”
“I will. You too mate. Don’t go picking dangerous fights.”, Phil says which makes Techno laugh. Since when did he ever lose a fight, much less back down from one?
“Alright alright.”, he concedes to appease him. Phil smiles, giving him a look that clearly tells Techno he better be telling the truth as he pulls on his coat. The three of them step out into the chill air, Techno gathering the wolves and leading the pack along to the Nether portal.
“Just be careful.”, He says one last time to Phil before they step through. Phil looks like he’s about to tease, but he must see the genuine worry in Techno’s eyes because he nods, a warm smile on his face.
“I will. Don’t be distracted worrying about me.”, Phil says. "You should know how I am with these things."
"I know.", Techno says and oh did he know. He's been beside the man for decades, seeing the way he could clean a battlefield easily. They didn't call his friend the Angel of Death for nothing after all. Not even his status with Death Herself had gained him that nickname ironically.
The two step into the portal, leading the pack of hounds along with Dream into their ground zero.
He peers down onto the scene from above, careful on the thin lines of the obsidian grid as he watches the explosions rain down below. Ash and smoke make it difficult to see the slowly descending ground below, the pelting rain doing nothing to help. He had done what he needed to do, releasing the hounds and directing them towards the people who chose to fight back. Dream is up there along with him, watching with a wide grin that showed from beneath his mask as he watched the explosives drop below. The place was barely recognizable, the houses Phil helped to build mostly turned to rubble now.
Phil…
His eyes search for him. He should be putting down the withers now that Techno was above. Must be finding the perfect place to put them down before he took off. Thankfully, the rain will make it even easier for the man to get up to where they were, the only comfort he can have over the situation. If he sees a flash of golden light after the man places the withers, he would be down there in an instant though.
He barely catches the familiar sound of a wither being brought to life, and he looks, seeing the massive creature awaken as Phil runs away from the creature's line of fire quickly, hands already reaching into the bag for more wither skulls. He grins, pride in his friend making his chest warm. He watches as the man takes another skull, faltering to grab it out of the bag as if he was burned before grasping onto the skull firmly. Hands grasping…Hands…
It crashes down on him like an anvil, an awful shout almost escaping him at the realization. What was he thinking? He was so caught up in the man’s life being protected that he didn’t even think about what he had given him, what irreversible damage he might have just placed onto Phil. Phil who loved to create and build, who had hands that could feel and touch so freely. He looks down at his own hands stained from the very items he has placed upon Phil and feels like he might be sick.
He wants to shout for Phil to forget it, to come up here and never touch the skulls so freely again, but it is much too late. Phil, who knows very well the consequences of cursed magic, releases another wither before he is off, trident pulled out as he soars up, up, up. Techno is at his side before Phil even fully lands onto the surface.
“Phil! Are you ok?”, He asks quickly. Phil laughs, hands clenched at his side, hidden from Techno’s view as he nods.
“They’re all released mate.”, he says, as if that is what really matters right now, as if that is what Techno is worried about.
“Your hands-”, he tries saying, because he needs to see them. He needs to see them unmarked, unchanged, but war does not wait for such pleasantries, and arrows being shot up their way makes Phil move quickly, his shield protecting them both.
“Shit, they’re building up.”, Phil says, eyes narrowing. Techno’s worry is not gone, how could it be, but he jumps into action, ready to retaliate to the one coming their way. He can wait. He can wait until they’re safely away from the scene to scan those hands, to apologize for his stupid stupid mistake.
The explosives continue to rain down, the people below continue to cry and shout at their doom, and Techno’s worry stays in his heart.
It’s not until the land below them is broken beyond repair, reaching deep deep down until they could see bedrock until the three figures from above are gone, making their way quickly to the Nether portal, remaining hounds on their trail. Dream leaves as soon as they get to the other side, but Techno could hardly care, no, he can’t even feel satisfied with their work of destroying L’manburg, not when Phil is keeping his hands in his pockets, not when he hasn’t held them on his own and seen.
“What’s with you Tech?”, Phil asks, voice a bit playful but faltering as they walk. “We did it. Is this because of what Tommy said..?”
“No.”, Techno is quick to say even though his conversation with the child he once trusted also was playing in his mind. He swallows as they walk in the snow back to their cabin, steps slowing down. “Your hands.”
“My hands?”, Phil repeats. Techno nods.
“You touched the wither skulls…I made you touch the wither skulls.”, He corrects himself, because this wasn't Phil's fault. This was his mistake. Phil’s blue eyes soften.
“You didn’t make me do anything. I volunteered.”, Phil says, but that does nothing to quell his distress.
“You didn’t volunteer anything. I was the one who had this idea. I shouldn’t have- I should have at least thought about it, if I just thought about it for one second I would have realized what I asked you to do-”, Techno says. Phil opens his mouth to interrupt but Techno keeps going. “It doesn’t matter if I do it. It does nothing to me anymore, but you…It hurts you, could make you be like-”
Like me, he almost says. Unfeeling to the touch, stained with his crimes, with his struggles. The man who has already lost his wings, who was mourning the loss of his son along with his flight. How could he ask him to give so much more? How could he ask him to give up his hands, the ones he uses to create, to build, to feel. He reaches out to grab Phil’s hands, to get them out in the open so he can finally see, but the man steps back before he can.
“I’ve touched wither skulls before, you know that.”, Phil reminds him.
“Maybe, but not this many..Not for this long.”, Techno argues. Phil was one to use a bow, a crystal, someone who wears gloves and handles skulls with prongs when needed. And yet, he had grabbed onto them, had grasped onto them because Techno had asked him.
“You shouldn’t have had to.”, Techno says. He wants to argue more, to make the man see, but Phil is already shivering slightly in the cold, the hounds growing restless from them stopping in place. His ears droop.
“Gonna put the wolves back, go ahead inside.”, Techno resigns for now, already walking away to leave no room for the man to protest. It doesn’t take long to put the wolves away in the den, they listen well to Techno for the most part. He feeds them quickly, locking the door before he leaves, going back to the cabin wearily.
Phil is in the kitchen when he steps inside, coat already hung up and boots neatly set aside by the doorway. Techno takes his own off before going to the man who stares at the kettle on the stove. He reaches again for the man’s hands, and this time, Phil allows him, seeming to expect it.
He holds both of Phil’s hands in his own, his palms easily able to hold them from their size. Phil is silent as he does, staying still as the man inspects his hands, eyes looking over the skin.
“You’re worrying too much mate…They don’t hurt.”, Phil says after a moment, a wavering smile there. A lie. It’s clear in the way the man’s hands are a stinging red, burnt from touching the items. He looks over them, touching each finger, smoothing over the skin with his own thumb. “Tech, you’re worrying too much.”
“Can you feel this?”, He asks, moving the man’s right thumb. Phil looks like he wants to continue to protest, but he nods, appeasing the man as he continues to go through each finger, each inch of the skin on his hands, heart breaking at the slight wince Phil holds back when he touches over the man’s right palm. He swallows, mind thinking back to when his hands looked similar to Phil’s, when the touch of the wither skulls stung. Would his hands not heal? He feels nauseous at the tinge of purple there on his palm.
“Technoblade.”, Phil saying his name snaps him out of his thoughts. He’s still holding both of Phil’s hands in his own, not letting them go. Phil takes a step closer, leaning his head against the man’s chest. “I promise you, I feel fine. So stop worrying ok? I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. You shouldn’t be the only one who has to.”
“But Phil-”, because how could Phil say that with so much sincerity? How can he think that his hands are the same as Techno’s, unfeeling and already damaged? He swallows, because nope. He’s not gonna cry. Not gonna make Phil worry even more when he should be mad at Techno, should be worried about himself.
“No buts.”, Phil says, kindness in his voice shining through. Techno holds his hands a little tighter, and even though it must hurt the man, he doesn’t pull his hands away. He had to make this right, had to do what he could to make sure this lingering wither effect goes away from the touch of his friend.
“Gotta wash your hands. Could help get it out of your skin.”, Techno remembers, letting go momentarily to put a hand on Phil’s shoulder, leading him over to the sink in the room.
“Alright alright”, Phil says with a slight smile, even letting Techno take his hands, scrubbing soap over them for him when he was more than capable to do it himself. After thoroughly washing them, Techno takes care to dry each one with a fluffy hand towel, mumbling about how they should have some healing salves somewhere to help with the stinging. They sit together on the couch, tea forgotten as Techno gently applies the salve onto his skin before firmly bandaging the hands, the voices matching his worries as he finishes.
“Thank you.”, Phil says when he’s done, bandaged hand reaching out and holding his own. The sight makes his guilt continue to eat at him.
“Shouldn’t be thanking me.”, Techno says.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”, Phil says. He smiles, eyes kind. “I chose to do this. No matter what you think, I’m the one who did this, so stop moping.”
He sighs, taking in the words. He nods despite not fully agreeing, and Phil wraps his arms around him, hugging him. Techno hugs back, careful of the man’s wings as he wraps his arms around the man in kind, almost fully engulfing him with his large size. They stay like that for a bit, Techno’s mind trying to calm down from the worry as he focuses on Phil’s touch. He hears Phil yawn and a smile tugs on his face.
“Tired already?”
“Just a bit. Can you blame me after today?”, Phil asks, looking up.
“You’re just getting old.”, He says, tension breaking slightly. Phil gasps in mock offense and Techno rolls his eyes before he settles on his next move, leaning down and picking Phil up before he starts moving towards the man’s bedroom.
“Just because my hands hurt a bit doesn’t mean I can’t walk mate.”, Phil says, but he’s already leaning against the man and wrapping his arms around his neck to hang on. Techno snorts.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”, Techno says as he carries him to his room, settling him down in his nest. Phil tries to pout, but soft laughter betrays him.
"Seeya tomorrow”, He says, feet hesitating as he goes to leave the room. Before he can finish taking a step, Phil grabs at his sleeve, looking up at Techno.
“Stay?”, He asks. Techno’s heart melts before he nods, almost relieved at the offer.
Phil scoots over, making room for the Piglin to lay down next to him, the two snug. It was always a treat to get to sleep in Phil’s nest, not that he’d ever admit it. It had been perplexing when he first saw it, but now deep down he prefers it to his own bed. Maybe it had to do with the fact that his best friend was beside him. He takes off his crown and cape, setting them outside of the nest as he gets comfortable.
“Night Techno..”, Phil says with a yawn as he snuggles next to the Piglin. Techno puts an arm over him for comfort, Phil chirping slightly at the gesture.
“Night Phil..”, He says back. Phil easily relaxes, closing his eyes and breath growing even. Techno looks at Phil’s bandaged hands, the sight still making him wince. He’d make it up to the man. Would make sure he never had to touch anything with such effects again. He manages to fall asleep next to him, purring at the warm feeling of Phil close.
For the next few days he takes on more chores, managing the farms on their land like the Avian would normally spend time to do every morning. He's determined to make sure Phil doesn't even lift a finger until all signs of hurt are gone from his hands. Phil complains, of course he does, the man was always determined to busy himself with work and projects, but he concedes easier with relaxing this time than usual. Techno thinks the man must see his guilt still, making sure to assure him multiple times he doesn't blame him. That still doesn't stop Phil's moping and complaining about having nothing to do. It's alright though. Techno makes it up for him by helping him preen his wings and braid his hair, enjoying the way his friend coos at his careful touches.
He also makes sure to continue to change the bandages and apply the salve on his hands, the raw skin slowly healing. The purple specks on his right palm still stay.
“Can’t even feel anything there.”, Phil says as Techno brushes his thumb over the area. It’s meant to be something comforting, reassuring, but it makes pangs of guilt resurface anew. He doesn’t tell him though, just nods at the admittance.
Everytime he sees the man’s hand, he remembers his mistake. Remembers the way he carelessly put tools that have marked him, that hurt him, into the palm of his very hands. The guilt is no longer all consuming weeks later, but the promise he makes to himself lingers in the back of his mind. Never again would he cause Phil pain. Never again would he be yet another person in his life who has taken something away from him.
“Tech look at what Ranboo built!”, Phil shouts, waving at him from afar in the snow, puffs of vapor showing in the frigid air. He sees the hand marked with his mistake and goes over, seeing what the man wanted to show him. Something about the kid who insisted on living close to their commune.
Phil smiles at him. Techno bets he doesn’t even think about it anymore, just accepts the change to his hand in stride as part of him without any malice towards Techno. That was just the kind of man Phil was. He wonders if he could do anything to make him truly mad at him. He prays he never does.
Wait a minute. What did Phil just say?
“Built? Don’t tell me he’s staying-”
“Why not? He’s been kind. Has no place to stay after L’manburg.”, Phil says with a shrug as if he didn't even remember all the kid did against them. Techno groans, wanting to argue, but shakes his head.
“Fine…As long as he pays rent.”, Techno grumbles which just makes Phil laugh, hand holding onto his.
Things were going to be alright.