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Chapter Text

Technoblade adored the night. The moon and stars painted a beautiful splatter of white against an inky black backdrop. Below the sky, the skyscrapers and streets of Manburg blossomed with color. To the average eye, it was peaceful in comparison to the chaos that was the daytime. But Techno knew better than that. It was under the cover of this neon glow and the shadows of alleyways that criminals would lurk, waiting to ruin something or someone.

However, whereas most people would run away from criminals, Techno charged right into them. But most people didn’t know this. To everyone else, he was Technoblade: an English major, captain of his university’s fencing club, and one of the top students in his class. But at night, he became someone else: The Blood God, the vigilante of Manberg.

Techno took in a deep breath of the nighttime air. He sat on the edge of an apartment complex’s roof, his legs dangling toward the streets. Tonight, he was on patrol in one of the areas considered the “slums” of Manberg. Cops practically abandoned this area, so it made his job much easier. The evening was surprisingly slow; the only thing he had to step in on was a failed attempt at a mugging. Not that he was complaining.

A crackle sounded from the headpiece in his right ear. “Hey Blood God, do you copy me?” a familiar voice asked.

Techno grinned at the sound of his twin’s voice. “Yes Wilbur, I copy.”

“Listen, big guy, there were reports of a suspicious individual on 9th Street near that new bakery. Judging by where you are, if you hurry, you can make it.”

Techno snorted. “Don’t call me that; I’m only a few minutes older than you. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Thanks for the notice.” Techno stood up and grabbed his swords. Now, things were finally getting interesting.

Techno leaped and bounded over the rooftops, his moves effortless. It was moments like this where he felt like he was flying. Techno smiled under his mask.

When Techno arrived at his destination, he didn’t see anything unusual at first. He pulled the night vision goggles that Wilbur had designed for him over his eyes. The goggles had his prescription in them, so he didn’t have to wear his glasses on his missions. It was then that he spotted it: a beat-up, old van parked behind the bakery. Sitting in its open back door was a tall, burly man. His hair was shaved close to his head. Behind him in the car was a plethora of white bricks; yep, definitely drugs. The man was leaning back and taking a drag from a cigarette. This was the perfect time to attack.

Techno leaped down from the bakery. His ankles tingled from shock absorption. “What’s a fellow like you doing out this late at night?” he asked, his hand hovering over his sword’s grip.

The man stood from the van, crushing the cigarette under his boot. “I could ask you the same thing, kid.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “So, I’m going to assume you’re here to stop me?”

Techno nodded. “You’re smarter than I thought you would be,” he chastised.

The man clenched his jaw. He put his hands up. “Fine then, you’ve got me. I’ll come with you.” Techno crept towards the man, his hand now gripped around the sword. Then, just as he expected, the man pulled out a gun.

Before he could fire, Techno stepped off to the side. The sound of a gunshot rang throughout the alleyway. A dog began to bark in one of the apartments above. Techno dashed towards the man, both swords now taken out. He swung towards the man, but he dodged. The man planted his foot against Techno’s chest and shoved. He went flying backward into a pile of trash bags, the air knocked straight out of his lungs. One of his swords slipped out of his grasp. Technoblade lay on the ground gasping. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like any of his ribs were broken.

The man walked up to him, gun drawn. “You know, for someone called The Blood God, you sure are fragile.” He chuckled. “Might want to start saying your final prayers.”

Techno smirked under his mask. This was the opportunity he was waiting for. Before the man could even blink, he grabbed his remaining sword and slashed it at the back of his ankles. The man’s eyes widened as he fell. He shrieked in agony as he went down. Techno winced at the sounds the man was making, but at the same time, he kind of reveled in it. He had finally got what was coming to him.

He towered over the man who was now crawling on his stomach towards his gun. Techno grabbed the gun with his gloved hand and threw it into the dumpster. He snatched up his other sword and placed its tip on the man’s back. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to sit here and wait for the cops. Either that or I can slash the other ankle.”

The man sobbed. “I’ll wait, I’ll wait. Just please don’t hurt me.” Techno nodded. Before he left the man, he made two light slashes in his back, forming a crimson X. 

Wilbur’s voice returned in his ear. “Tech, get out of there. The cops are on their way.”

“Rodger that,” Techno replied. With that, he shimmied up a ladder back onto the rooftops. He leaped over the buildings, the wind blowing under his hood. Another job well done.

-0-

LOCAL DRUG SUPPLIER CAUGHT

Dream threw the newest edition of the Manberg Times into the fireplace. The flames embraced the paper, quickly reducing it to nothing. He stormed over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Another one of his good men was taken down by that goddamn vigilante. George, his right-hand man, looked into the fireplace and sighed. “So, down for the count again?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.

Dream snarled. “This prick is going to be the death of my empire.” He slammed the file folder onto his desk. “I can’t just let him take me down.” George chuckled, although it was not a chuckle of amusement. “What’s so funny?” Dream asked.

George stood from his seat and leaned onto the desk. “Then don’t.” George pulled out another file. “Send him a message.”

Dream’s eyes glimmered at the revelation of what George had in that folder. “You are an absolute genius,” he said. Grinning, George pulled the photos out of the folder. In each one was a high-profile family of Manberg. From the mayor to billionaires, he had them all. “Now the question remains: who do we use?” he muttered.

“What about the mayor’s son?” George asked, his pointer finger covering up the young brunette’s face. “Judging by his schedule, he’s an easy target.”

Dream shook his head. “No, it’s far too risky. Schlatt would have us thrown in prison in days.” He began to pace around his office. Who would be a high-profile enough person to negotiate with while also being kept hidden the longest? That’s when he spotted it: a tall, blonde man with black crow wings on his back. A dark grin formed on his face. “I didn’t know that Phil had children.”

George nodded. “Yep, he likes to keep his family out of the spotlight. But, there’s not much he can do about the paparazzi.” George picked up the photo from the pile. “So, you want to settle on them?” Dream nodded. “The question remains, which one of his brats should we go with?”

Dream took the photo from George’s hand. The family was so poised and graceful in the picture. Phil was smiling while wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. In front of him on a couch sat three older-looking children. The leftmost one had pink hair braided in front of his shoulder. Although he had a calm demeanor, Dream could see some darkness in the kid’s eyes. No, he couldn’t take him; he would fight back too much. On the other end of the couch was a fluffy-haired brunette. The man seemed to have been caught mid-laughter, almost as if he had been amused at something happening off-camera. He might do as a target.

And then Dream’s eyes darted to the child in the middle. He looked considerably younger than the other two boys. His loosely curled blonde hair almost fell into his eyes. A polite yet mischievous smile was plastered on the kid’s face. When compared to his brothers he seemed so small, and most important, weaker. Dream placed the photo on his desk and pointed at the child. “Him. He’s perfect,” he said.

George smirked. “I had a feeling you’d go for him.” He scooped up the photos and placed them back into the folder. Without missing a beat, he pulled out another sheet of paper and placed it on Dream’s desk. “Here’s his schedule. He and Tubbo are practically attached at the hip, so they’re almost copies of each other.” George stood and walked over to the fireplace in the office. “Oh, and Dream, once you have everything arranged, destroy the evidence.” With a flick of his wrist, he threw the file folder into the flames.

Dream chuckled. “You know I will. I’d rather not get caught now.” Dream took the schedule and locked in it one of his desk drawers. “Hey, I think we should go out for drinks tonight. It would be nice to celebrate the occasion.”

George hummed in agreement. “Are we bringing Punz too?”

Dream smiled. “Absolutely. Might make it easier to get him to agree to the job too.” Leaning back in his chair, Dream couldn’t help but chuckle. Soon, the Blood God would be out of his hair, and he might be able to get some extra cash out of the Craft kid’s youngest. All the while, the flames in the fireplace curled around the family photo, reducing it to ashes.

-0-

Techno was never a morning person. His nighttime activities didn’t seem to help with that fact either. Which is why he was so thankful that his schedule allowed him to take afternoon and evening classes. The only reason he was awake at this hour was because Phil insisted on having breakfast together as a family.

The four of them sat around the breakfast table in the kitchen. Phil had the newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Wilbur and Techno sat across from each other, the latter of the duo poking at his food more than he was eating it. Techno’s eyes darted over to the empty seat at the table. Kristin-their mother-was a traveling nurse, so there were moments when she would be gone for months at a time. This was one of those moments; she was currently in Las Nevadas dealing with a bad flu outbreak.

Phil glanced up from his newspaper. “You alright, Techno? I haven’t seen you play with your food that much since you were little,” he joked.

Techno shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not hungry is all,” he mumbled. Wilbur raised his eyebrow at him. Seemingly oblivious to this, Phil grabbed the coffee pot and poured some more coffee into Techno’s mug.

Tommy, who had been surprisingly quiet up until this point, set his fork down. “Hey Phil, can I have the paper, please?” he asked. Nodding, Phil handed Tommy the newspaper. Tommy grabbed it and immediately began scanning the front page. After a few seconds, he handed the paper back to Phil. “So, the Blood God…what do you guys think of them?” he asked.

Techno paused. He knew that Tommy was into superheroes, but since when was he interested in his alter ego? Techno grunted. “I think they’re brave but foolish,” he said.

Phil nodded. “I agree with you on the foolish part,” Phil mumbled into his coffee cup. “Kid doesn’t know what they’re getting themselves into. They could end up seriously hurt or dead one of these days.” Techno and Wilbur nodded. They both knew the risk Techno put himself in every night he went on patrol. And yet, they couldn’t stop; they’d seen too much to stand by. “Besides, they’re pretty brutal. Guy’s Achilles tendon got slashed.”

Tommy stood from the table. “Well, I think he’s awesome. Who knows if those guys would have been caught without him?” He checked his phone and grabbed his backpack from the corner. “I’ve gotta go before I miss the bus again.” He grabbed a piece of toast. “See ya later,” he shouted, his mouth full of bread. Techno heard the front door open and close shortly after.

Phil stood and stretched, his large, black wings twitching. “I’ve gotta be at the office in an hour,” he declared. Phil was the CEO of Avian Airlines, a successful air travel company. Yes, a lot of people found it ironic that the man who owns a bunch of airplanes has wings. He liked to joke about it sometimes, saying that he was “just giving other people the experience he had”.

“Techno, which class do you start with today?”

Techno stood and gathered the dishes off the table. “North American Folklore,” he told Phil. 

Wilbur got up from the table and grabbed his satchel off the wall. Wilbur had graduated before Techno with a bachelor’s in Music Therapy. Right now, he was teaching music at one of Manberg’s high schools while he applied to master’s programs. Waving, Wilbur exited the house.

Techno sighed as he put the dishes in the dishwasher. Prime, he was so sore and tired from last night. Maybe he could sneak a nap in before his first class. Yeah, a nap sounded nice. Techno trod up the stairs and to his bedroom. He switched the lights off and set some alarms on his phone. He was practically asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

-0-

Tommy loved Fridays. It meant no school for two and a half days; two and a half days that he had just to himself. Granted, he missed his English class over that time, but the benefits in this case greatly outweighed the drawbacks.

This Friday afternoon, the bus dropped him off at his usual stop. Standing with him were his two best friends, Tubbo and Ranboo.

“Hey Tommy, you’re still coming over tomorrow, right?” asked Ranboo.

Tommy smiled. The three of them were booked to compete in a gaming tournament over the weekend. Tommy had been looking forward to it for weeks. After all, they had been practicing for hours. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied. Waving goodbye to his friends, he made his way through the empty streets of his neighborhood to his house.

After turning the corner, Tommy heard something. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, but then he heard it again. It was a whimper. He glanced down the alleyway where the noise was coming from. Tommy hesitated. Part of him felt a chill go down his spine at the sight of the narrow space. Something about it made him feel…uneasy. But at the same time, the animal (what he assumed was a dog) sounded so distressed. Tommy felt his heartstrings being tugged on. Taking a deep breath, he squared back his shoulders and marched into the alleyway.

The dark, cramped space in between the buildings set Tommy on edge. The ground was littered with trash, more than what was usually on the city streets. Laundry that was hung out to dry in between windows rustled in the breeze. The dumpsters echoed with the skitters of whatever kind of creatures lived in them. Tommy’s body tensed. Some part of him had a feeling that something, somewhere was watching him. He took a deep breath. All he had to do was take care of this dog, and then he could get out of there.

He could hear the dog’s cries much clearer now. The poor thing sounded like it was in agony. He shuddered at the thought of what state the dog could be in. He was getting closer now. Tommy peeked behind a dumpster, where the source of the noise was supposedly coming from. But he didn’t see a dog; he didn’t see anything. That was, he didn’t see anything until he looked down. Instead of some injured animal, he found himself staring at a tape recorder playing a series of whines and whimpers. Tommy felt his stomach drop. He picked up the recorder and stopped it from playing. “What the hell…” he muttered. 

A crack sounded from behind him.

Tommy didn’t even have time to scream before they were upon him.

Chapter Text

“Tech, are you alright?”

Techno’s head snapped up. His fork slammed down on the plate in front of him. “What?” he asked groggily.

“I asked if you were okay,” said Phil, concern glimmering in his eyes.

Techno fought back the urge to scoff. Was he okay? No, he wasn’t. Last night, a group of muggers beat the shit out of him. Thankfully they had managed to avoid damaging his face so that he wouldn’t have to come up with some bullshit excuse for Phil and Tommy. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired is all,” he mumbled into a mug.

Phil raised his eyebrow. To his credit, Phil wasn’t stupid. He was probably catching onto Techno’s bullshit. But surprisingly, the college student wasn’t worried about it. If Phil asked Wilbur anything about it, he would back him up.

“Okay,” replied Phil, drawing out the last letter. He picked up the newspaper off the table and began to read it. Techno resumed eating. Wilbur was nowhere to be seen at the table, instead walking around the house while talking to someone on the phone-Tubbo as it turns out. Techno rested his head on his hand. Today was Saturday, which meant that he didn’t have any classes. Maybe after breakfast, he could go back to sleep…

Wilbur appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. His shoulders were tense, and an apprehensive look was plastered on his face. Oh prime, what was wrong?

“Dad,” Wilbur muttered.

Techno and Phil froze. Phil choked on his coffee. None of his kids called him Dad (he wasn’t sure why). The only time they did was when they were about to be in trouble for something or something was wrong-seriously wrong. Phil set down the mug and newspaper in his hands. “Yes, Wilbur?” he asked, apprehension tinging his voice.

“Tommy’s gone.”

Phil’s shoulders tensed. Techno’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean gone?” Techno asked. Now he was nervous too. 

“He’s not in his bedroom or anywhere else in the house.”

Phil stood from the breakfast table. The feathers on his wings appeared ruffled. “Maybe he’s with Tubbo and Ranboo,” he said.

Wilbur shook his head. “No, he’s not. Tubbo just called me asking where he is.” 

Techno’s breath caught in his throat. Oh shit. A myriad of possibilities began to flood Techno’s head, and glancing at Phil, the same seemed to be happening to him as well. What if Tommy had gotten mugged last night? No, he would have seen something while he was out on patrol. What if he had gotten involved in some kind of gang activity? Prime, he didn’t want to fight his brother at some point.

Phil dashed up the stairs. The twins stood next to each other, a tense silence between them. They had never seen their father this panicked before. A few minutes later, Phil came practically running down the stairs. He was buttoning his shirt with trembling hands. He pulled up the tracker app that he used for the family. Techno never brought his phone on missions for that exact reason. “I’m going to the last location he was at. You guys can either come with me or stay at the house,” he said. The twins looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

“We’re coming with you.”

According to Phil, his last location ping was near where the bus dropped him off after school. Even though it felt silly, the entire time they were walking towards the location, Wilbur and Techno were calling Tommy’s name. People stared at them like they were some kind of freak show. Some of them even scoffed at them. If it were any other day, Techno would have told them off. But now, he didn’t care about what they thought. All that mattered right now was finding Tommy.

After walking for what felt like miles, Phil finally stopped. Wilbur crashed right into his wings, sending a few feathers tumbling to the ground. Phil turned toward a dark alleyway. Techno’s throat tightened. What was Tommy doing in a place like this? “This way. Stay close to me,” he told the boys.

All three of them were on edge in the alleyway, but none more so than Phil. Of course, Techno knew why; he was assuming the worst. Their feet splashed in puddles formed by the rainstorm the night prior. Despite the street outside being busy, the alley was silent, save for the howl of a cat and the echoes of their footsteps.

Phil paused. “We’re close. I’m going to call his phone; keep an ear out,” he told the twins. Wilbur and Techno nodded. With a trembling hand, Phil dialed Tommy’s number. For a few seconds, there was silence. Then, they all heard it: the familiar jingle of Tommy’s cell phone. Phil’s phone slipped out of his hand and cracked on the asphalt. Wilbur let out a small gasp; Techno clenched his fists. The ringtone was coming from a dumpster. No, this couldn’t be happening.

Phil bent down to grab his phone off the ground. Wilbur tried to swallow the lump in his throat with no success. “Dad, what are you going to do?” he asked, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

Phil looked up at the twins, and for the first time, they saw tears forming in their father’s eyes. “I’m calling the police.”

-0-

The first thing Tommy felt when he awoke was pain. A dull throb echoed throughout his head and traveled down the rest of his body. He felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. God, everything hurt . He let out a small groan.

He tried his best to peel his eyelids open, but it felt like they had lead weights on them. He managed to crack one eye open only to immediately be assaulted by a bright light. His head began to pound even harder. He squeezed his eyes shut again.

Tommy felt the coldness of metal against the skin on his arms. It was then that he realized that he was sitting up. Cracking open one of his eyes again, he saw nothing but grey. Where was he?

Then, everything hit him all at once. He remembered the fear crawling inside him while he walked down the alleyway. He recalled finding the tape recorder. Then, an explosion of chaos: the body pinning him to the ground, his shrieks for help being muffled by a giant hand, the sharp jab in his arm.

Tommy’s head snapped up, only for it to smash against the metal thing behind him. The crack against his head emphasized his already existing headache. His eyes flew open. Tommy went to rub the spot where he hit his head, only to realize something: he couldn’t move his hands. Tommy looked over his shoulder. His wrists were bound behind his back with rope. His arms were wrapped around a metal support beam. He stuck his legs out; his ankles were also tied.

Tommy felt his insides twist into knots. No, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. This had to be some kind of nightmare. It became harder to breathe. What was it that Wilbur told him to do in times like this? Right: in through the nose, out through the mouth. He took in a deep breath, and he could swear that he was already feeling calmer. However, when he tried to breathe out, he made another horrifying discovery: he couldn’t open his mouth.

Tommy’s eyes darted toward a table, the only furniture in the concrete room. Underneath it was a steel mini fridge. The table itself didn’t hold many objects aside from a small bag, a camera, a bandana, and a roll of duct tape. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat.   

Without warning, the door slammed open. A figure walked into the room. He had a white hoodie on with a white mask covering up most of his face. “Good morning sunshine!” the man in the white mask exclaimed. Tommy winced at the sudden volume change. The man got down on one knee in front of him. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Tommy glared at the man. Even if he could answer him, he still wouldn’t say a word to him. After all, he was one of the bastards that kidnapped him. He could tell that the man in front of him was smirking under the mask. “Fine then, do the silent treatment.” He stood up and walked to the table. Grabbing the camera, he turned his attention back to Tommy. “You know, we’re probably going to be around each other for a while, so you might as well start warming up to me.”

Tommy’s eyes widened with panic. What did he mean by a while? What were they planning on doing with him? The man crouched in front of him again. He looked away from his captor; he wouldn’t let that monster see him afraid. A hand grabbed Tommy’s jaw, the fingers digging into his cheek. He let out a small, muffled yelp as his head was jerked back to the man’s face. “Smile for the camera,” his captor told him. Tommy was then blinded by a flash of light.

Click

-0-

The Manburg police department was surprisingly quiet for an urban area. Techno was expecting it to be abuzz with chatter and phone calls from distressed citizens. But instead, it was filled with the monotonous clicks of keyboards and only the occasional phone call. People were secluded behind their cubicles, only bothering to look up when Phil and Sam had passed by earlier.

Wilbur and Techno sat outside of Sam’s office, the chairs being a literal pain in the ass. He and Phil had been talking for what felt like hours in there. Techno bounced his leg impatiently. He should be out there looking for Tommy, but Phil refused to let him or Wilbur out of his sight. 

Wilbur placed a gentle hand on Techno’s leg. “Mate, please stop doing that. You’re making me even more anxious,” he said. Techno muttered an apology before bringing his leg to a stop. Wilbur leaned back in his chair. “What’s on your mind?”

Techno sighed and ran a finger through his long pink hair. “A lot,” he muttered. He paused. “Why didn’t I see anything last night?”

Wilbur looked at him a glimmer of pity in his eyes. Techno hated when he gave him that look. “This isn’t your fault,” Wilbur told him. “Judging by where his stuff was, whoever took Tommy did it when he got back from school.” Wilbur placed his hand on his brother’s knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

The elevator dinged. Tubbo and Ranboo walked onto the floor, the two of them closely huddled together. “We got the text. Any updates?” asked Ranboo.

Wilbur shook his head. “No. All we know is that Phil and Sam are getting a search party going and an AMBER alert sent out.” It was then that every phone in the office let out a shrill beep. They all looked down at their phones.

MISSING: TOMMY INNES CRAFT

Sixteen-year-old white male with blonde hair and blue eyes. Last seen wearing a white and red t-shirt, khaki shorts, and black Converse. If you have information, contact the Manberg Police Department.

Tubbo frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “That took way longer than it should’ve,” he muttered. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to the twins. “What do you think might’ve happened to him?”

Ranboo shook his head. “We can’t think like that, it’ll only make things worse.” But deep down, everyone was already thinking the worst: what if they found Tommy when it was too late? Techno couldn’t get the image of his brother’s abandoned backpack in the dumpster out of his mind.

The door to Sam’s office swung open. “Thank you, Sam. I’ll be sure to keep in touch,” said Phil. He closed the door behind him, a somber look painted on his face. All four of them leaped to their feet.

“Well, what did he say?” asked Techno.

Phil sighed. “He’s setting up a search party right now and trying to find a detective to head it. Right now, the best thing we can do is wait for a ransom demand.”

Techno scoffed. “That’s it? Just sit around and hope that someone will demand some money out of us?” he exclaimed.

Phil put his hand up. “Yes, that’s what I was told. I don’t like the idea either, but that’s likely the reason he was taken.” So there was no doubt about it; Tommy had been kidnapped. “Besides, I can’t risk losing you two either.” Phil glanced over at Ranboo and Tubbo. “Tubbo, does your father know you’re here?”

Tubbo glanced down at the floor, his cheeks turning red. “No sir, he doesn’t,” he said.

Phil rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Right, that’s what I thought.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Come on boys, we’re going home.”

Techno was blinded by the sunlight once they had made their way outside. The clouds that were once smothering the sky were now long gone, being replaced by weather that was far too cheerful for what was going on. Techno cursed himself for not bringing his prescription sunglasses with him.

A sleek, black sedan pulled up to the curb. Tubbo’s shoulders stiffened. Wilbur smirked a little, the first attempt at a smile Techno had seen all day. The passenger door of the car flew open, and Schlatt’s imposing figure stepped out. The man stood with his hands behind his back and his chest puffed out. His ram horns glistened in the sunlight.

Tubbo grinned sheepishly. “Hey, dad…”

“Tubbo, what the hell were you thinking sneaking out of the house like that?” the mayor shouted. The kid in question shrank back a little at his father’s harsh tone. “Do you know how worried I was?” Schlatt walked up to his son and grabbed him by the wrist. “You are grounded until Tommy is found, do you understand me?”

Tubbo looked down at the sidewalk. Techno could swear that he saw tears forming in his eyes. “Yes sir,” Tubbo sighed.

Schlatt’s expression softened. He took his finger under Tubbo’s chin and gently lifted his head. “Look, they’ll find him, okay? I just don’t…I don’t want anything bad to happen to you too.” Tubbo nodded, a mild look of contempt on his face.

Schlatt walked back to the car with Tubbo in tow. “Ranboo, do you need a ride home?” he asked. Ranboo nodded. Schlatt opened the back door and Ranboo and Tubbo climbed inside. Schlatt closed the door and looked back at the trio still standing on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry about all of this, Phil,” he said. He then got into the passenger side and the car sped off. 

The drive home was a silent one. Wilbur had taken over the music as usual, but he wasn’t humming along to whatever was playing. Techno was staring out the window, his chin resting on his hand. Why Tommy? What did he ever do to anyone aside from the occasional annoyance?

Phil cleared his throat. “I’ve told Kristin what happened. She’s on a plane back home,” he said. Techno’s heart stung. He hadn’t seen his mother in months, and this was how they were reuniting.

The trio walked through the front door of the house. Phil stretched his arms and wings out. “I’m going up to my office. Knock if you need me,” he muttered. He tucked his wings close to his body and ascended the stairs. Wilbur and Techno made their way into the living room. Wilbur flopped onto the couch while Techno sat in the armchair near the fireplace. An eerie silence settled between the two of them.

“This is bullshit,” groaned Wilbur.

Techno nodded in agreement. “Tommy’s not just going to magically reappear. Something needs to be done,” he said. But there was a part of him that knew better than to say his next thought. If Tommy’s captors killed him, then the blood would be partially on his hands.

Wilbur sat up from the couch. A smartass smirk was on his face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Technoblade smiled and nodded in agreement. “I think the Blood God has a new mission.”

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn’t sure how long he had been in this room. The man had left a while ago, camera in tow. He hadn’t been back since. Tommy had tried to untie his wrists, but all that did was give him a rope burn. He had tried to scream for someone, anyone to hear him, but it was no use. His voice was no louder than Wilbur humming along to the radio.

Tommy cracked his eyes open; he had fallen asleep again. His eyes darted around the room; nothing had changed. It was then that he spotted something in the corner. A spider was busy spinning a web. Tommy stared at the spider. Its legs looked like they were flailing, yet there was some kind of grace in its movements. It reminded him of when his mother tried to teach him to dance. Tommy kept stumbling over his feet, but his mother glided across the floor as if dancing was her second nature. Tommy felt a bit misty-eyed at the memory. Prime, what he wouldn’t give to have another moment like that right now.

The door opened; two men stepped through. One of them was the man from earlier, the other one was new. He was wearing a white hoodie with a flame embroidered on it and a black mask. He placed the camera back on the table. The man from earlier was holding a water bottle and a cup of microwaved mac and cheese.

“Hope you’re hungry, kid,” he said. As if on cue, Tommy’s stomach growled. The white-masked man sat on the floor in front of him. He reached up to Tommy’s face and ripped the tape off his mouth. Tommy took in a big gulp of air; he had felt so suffocated. The man scooped up some mac and cheese and guided the spoon to Tommy’s mouth.

Tommy felt humiliated being fed like this. But then again, he knew what he would do if he had the cup in his hand; he would throw it in the man’s face. Once he was finished with the mac and cheese, he immediately gave Tommy the water bottle. It was while drinking the water that Tommy got an idea: he couldn’t throw the mac and cheese, but he could do something else. The man pulled the water bottle away. Before he could even react, Tommy spat the water right back in his face. The man sputtered and wiped at his eyes. An impish grin formed on Tommy’s face. The man turned back to him, his eyes burning with rage.

“You little brat!” he snarled. A clap rang through the air. Tommy’s head snapped in the other direction. Pain blossomed across his cheek. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” the other man exclaimed. “We’re supposed to return him unharmed, remember?”

The white-masked man scoffed. “Relax, it’s a slap mark. It’ll go away in a few days.” Tommy hoped that he wouldn’t be here long enough for the mark to fade. The man picked up the water bottle again. “Are you going to drink the rest of this, or are you going to spit it in my face again?”

“I’ll drink it,” Tommy mumbled. He could tell the man was smirking under his mask. He brought the water bottle up to Tommy’s lips. He finished the rest of it as quickly as possible. The man stood and gathered the garbage. The other man walked over to the table and grabbed the roll of duct tape. Tommy panicked; he didn’t want to be gagged again. “Wait!” The men turned toward him. Tommy gulped. “I need to use the toilet, bad.”

The black-masked man nodded. Setting down the tape, he grabbed the bandana off the table. “Okay, but we’re gonna have to blindfold you,” he said. Tommy nodded. The white-masked man bent down and untied his ankles before moving on to his wrists. The other man wrapped the blindfold around Tommy’s eyes and tied it tightly. Without warning, Tommy was yanked to his feet and dragged to the other end of the room.

Tommy heard the door to the room open. He was finally getting out of that concrete prison. Whoever was walking him had a tight grip on him, one that was without a doubt going to leave a bruise. So much for returning him unharmed. Tommy tried his best to keep up with the man, but his feet kept stumbling. Eventually, they came to a stop. A door creaked open; he was shoved into a room and the blindfold was taken off. He spun around to see the black-masked man standing in the doorway.

“Knock on the door when you’re done,” he told Tommy. Before he could even move, the man slammed the door; the click of a lock sounded through the room not even a second later. He was trapped again.

Tommy stumbled over to the bathroom sink and gripped the porcelain. Glancing up, he caught an image of himself in the mirror. He looked…pathetic. Dark bags stood out under his eyes. His curls hung sadly in his eyes. Tommy ran a gentle hand over his right cheek, which was now red and inflamed like the skin around his mouth. 

It was then that he felt something wet trailing down his cheek. Tommy wiped at his face. No, he couldn’t cry, not around these monsters. And still, more tears came flowing. He sank to the floor, his back resting against the sink. He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his head in them. It was only then that he properly let the tears fall. His body hitched with silent sobs.

“I wanna go home,” he whispered to himself.

-0-

Tommy has been missing for twenty-four hours. Every hour that ticked by felt like agony for the twins. Techno had tried to go out on patrol last night, but Phil had the house on lockdown. He felt so…useless.

Techno and Wilbur were sitting in the living room, the latter of the two mindlessly plucking at his guitar. Techno had tried reading a book, but his mind couldn’t concentrate on it. All he could think about was whether Tommy was okay or not. Slamming the book down on the coffee table, Techno stood up. Wilbur plucked a sour B-flat chord. “I’m sick of all this waiting!” Techno exclaimed. He stormed out of the living room. Wilbur set his guitar down and followed his twin.

“Where are you going?” Wilbur asked, a stern tone in his voice.

Techno turned back to Wilbur now halfway up the stairs. “I’m going out to look for Tommy. I can’t just sit here anymore.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “Tech, are you crazy? It’s the middle of the afternoon; you’ll stick out like a sore thumb!” he hissed.

Techno held his hand up. “Will you relax? I’m going out as Techno. I just…” he sighed “I feel like the more we sit around, the more Tommy’s life is in danger.” His twin’s eyes softened.

The front door swung open. Their father, who had been gone for hours at this point, stepped into the house. He looked stressed, which was the understatement of the year. Next to him was another man, a man that made Techno’s blood freeze. Phil turned to his sons and gave them a sad smile.

“Boys, this is Detective Quackity. He’s heading the search for Tommy.”

The man stood proudly with his shoulders back and straight posture. His medium-length black hair was partially hidden underneath a beanie. He was smartly dressed, almost like he was running for some kind of political office. But that’s not what stood out to Techno. No, what stood out to him was the long, jagged scar that ran down his face, cutting through what was clearly a glass eye.

The man smiled at the boys. “Hello. I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” he said, letting out an awkward chuckle. His expression turned dour. “I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.” Techno winced. Why were people talking about Tommy like he was already dead?

Phil cleared his throat. “How about we head up to the library and get started?” he asked. Nodding, Quackity followed Phil up the stairs; the boys followed shortly after. Phil had felt uncomfortable at first with the twins being involved in Tommy’s disappearance. But, he figured since they were both adults, they could handle it. The men settled in the library, and Quackity immediately opened up a file folder. In it were a series of mugshots and profiles. Techno flipped through some of them. In each and every one was a person in Manberg who had been convicted of kidnapping but had been released from prison. Techno took note of their names and locations; he’d have to…interrogate a few of them later on.

Kristin walked into the room, her eyes wide and her skin pale. Clutched in a white-knuckled grip was an envelope. Phil leaped up from the armchair. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, panic lacing his voice. Kristin handed the envelope to Phil with a shaky hand.

“It’s about Tommy,” she whispered.

Phil sat back down on the armchair. Kristin sat next to Detective Quackity on the couch in an almost robotic-like fashion. Her shocked expression made Techno’s stomach twist with anxiety. What could possibly be in that envelope to scare his mother that badly? With a shaking hand, Phil opened the envelope. He pulled out a white sheet of paper; three photos tumbled out of the envelope.

Wilbur bent over and picked up the photos. His jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” he wheezed. Techno grabbed the photos from his twin; his heart practically stopped. The first photo was a close-up of Tommy’s face. A strip of duct tape was covering his mouth. A gloved hand was gripping his cheeks far too hard. Techno could see the rage in his brother’s eyes, but also an unmistakable glimmer of terror. He flipped to the next photo, which was a full picture of Tommy. His wrists and ankles were bound. Tommy was curled in on himself; he looked…terrified. Techno couldn’t bring himself to look at the third photo. With a slightly shaking hand, he handed it to Quackity.

Quackity flipped through the photos, a grim expression plastered on his face. Sighing, he placed them down. “Phil, I’m going to have to take this all in as evidence. Do you have a plastic bag I can use?” Phil nodded, got up, and walked toward the kitchen. Techno grabbed the letter that Phil had left behind. It was typed, which left out any handwriting clues. It read:

Tune into MBRG 13 at 2:00 PM. Your son has something to say to you.

Techno handed the letter to Quackity and stood from the couch. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He turned and exited the library. He could hear his twin calling his name, but he didn’t turn back. Techno slammed the door to his room. He flopped down on his desk chair and put his head in his hands. Why was all of this happening to his family?

A knock sounded at the door. “Tech, it’s Wilbur. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, come in.” The door creaked open and Wilbur stepped into the room. He shut the door behind him and sat on Techno’s bed. 

“This is so fucked up,” Wilbur muttered. Techno nodded. “I saw you tense up when the detective got here. Why’s that?” he asked.

Techno took a deep breath. “Because I’m the one who gave him that scar.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “What? When did you do that?”

Techno shuddered. It felt like it just happened yesterday.

-0-

Techno slid down the ladder of the bank. Wilbur had informed him about the silent alarm being tripped at this building, meaning he had mere minutes to stop the men inside. He snuck to the side of the building, listening for any sign of life. Then, he heard it: glass crunching underneath two pairs of boots. Techno grabbed his swords; this was going to be easy.

He leaped into the bank through the broken window. The two men turned to stare at him, with one reaching toward his belt. “Evening gentlemen! You know the bank’s closed, right?” One of the men pulled out a hunting knife and began to charge toward him. Techno scoffed and pulled out his sword. Before the man could get close to him, he slashed his sword, tearing the man’s shirt wide open. A giant gash formed on his chest. 

With that man dealt with, Techno turned his attention to the other man. “Do you want the same fate as your partner over there?” The man furiously shook his head. Techno smirked under his mask. “That’s what I thought. Now sit down with your hands behind your back.” The man obeyed, sitting down on the broken glass on the floor. Digging in his utility belt, Techno pulled out some zip ties and bound the men’s hands behind their backs. Standing, he began to sheathe his sword.

A crunch sounded out from behind him. Techno grabbed his sword and swung upwards toward the source of the noise. The sound of flesh and fabric tearing seemed to echo through the empty bank. Techno turned around, only for his heart to plummet.

In front of him was not another robber. No, the man was dressed way too smartly for that. It was then that Techno saw the glimmer of a badge that had been dropped on the floor. Prime, he had just hurt a law enforcement member. The man was writhing on the floor in agony, his hand covering up the right side of his face. There was blood dripping on the floor and all over his white shirt. His cries of agony filled the room. Techno’s heart was pounding in his ears. The only coherent thing the man said was “My fucking eye!”

Techno was frozen in panic. What should he do? Should he stay behind and help the man? No, if he was here, then the rest of his cohorts couldn’t be too far behind. But at the same time, this was his fault. Yet, he can’t risk getting caught. Despite his conscious telling him to help the injured man, he turned around and ran away from the bank, away from what just happened.

-0-

Wilbur’s forehead was creased, his eyebrows furrowed. “I remember that night. You came home and didn’t say a word to me.” He paused. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Techno shrugged. “I don’t know, guilt I guess?” He sighed and stood up, walking over to the window. “Either way, what’s done is done.” He ran his fingers through his long, pink hair. Did he feel bad for harming the detective? More or less. But he couldn’t let the guilt consume him.

Wilbur cleared his throat. “I have an idea, and you may call me crazy for this, but what if you formed an alliance with the detective as The Blood God?”

Techno whipped his head around, staring at his twin with wide eyes. “What?” 

“Think about it, there’s only so much we can do on our own. We’re going to need help on this.”

Techno sighed. “Fine, but he can’t know about the fact that I’m The Blood God. I’ve worked hard to keep the two of us separate, and I’m not about to fuck it all up for a guy I’ve just met.”

Wilbur smirked. “Deal.” Techno slid his vigilante gear out from under his bed. He couldn’t go out until tonight, but he yearned to put the outfit out and be his alter ego, even for just a moment. He thought about the alliance with Quackity. Did he like it? No, he didn’t. He hated the law, and the law hated him. But still, Wilbur had a point: if they were going to find Tommy, they needed help. He could only hope that the detective didn’t hold a grudge against him.

Chapter Text

Techno glided across the roof, his movements almost silent. He had been following Detective Quackity for the past hour, waiting for a moment for him to be alone. Now, he was in the alleyway between the police department and an office building, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. He was scrolling through his phone, his eyebrows furrowed. This was the perfect moment to confront the detective.

Techno crept up behind the man. Before Quackity could turn around, Techno pinned the man to the wall. Techno clamped a hand over the detective’s mouth, muffling his surprised yelp. Techno took a deep breath; here went nothing. “Detective, I need to talk to you about the missing Craft kid, and it’s important. If I move my hand, you have to promise not to scream or shout. Got it?” he commanded. Quackity nodded, and Techno dropped his hand.

“What the hell do you want?” Quackity hissed, venom lacing his voice. Techno winced at the man’s tone. Yep, he was definitely still mad at him. Shoving aside his twinge of guilt, he stood tall over the detective.

“I want to help you find the kid. I can’t do it on my own.”

Quackity sneered. “So, the great Blood God needs help from the law, huh?” He leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. A smirk formed on his face. “What’s in it for me?”

Techno “If you help me out, when we find the Craft kid, I’ll reveal my identity to you.” He was lying through his teeth. Like he told Wilbur, he wasn’t about to throw away his secret identity for this guy.

Quackity’s eyebrows furrowed. “Fine,” he snarled. “But just know that I’m not happy about this.”

Techno nodded. “Neither am I,” he muttered. He stuck his hand out. “Shake on it?” Quackity’s eyes narrowed at the man. Please, oh please, let him accept the deal. The detective reached out, took Techno’s hand in a firm grip, and shook it.

“Meet me in the park in half an hour. We’ve got a lot of work to do,” said Quackity. Techno nodded and ran off, ducking behind the office building.

His communicator crackled in his ear. “So, the detective agreed?” Wilbur asked.

“Yeah, he did. Now keep an ear out whenever we meet.”

“Will do, boss.” Techno could practically envision the smirk on Wilbur’s face. “I’ll call back in half an hour.” Techno smiled under his mask. 

“Hang on Tommy, I’m coming to get you.”

-0-

Tommy woke up from yet another nap; he seemed to be having a lot of those lately. He was back in the concrete room, sitting with his back against the metal support beam. The spider, which he had named Shroud, had moved far from his web and made his way onto Tommy’s leg. Normally he would swat a bug away from him but for some reason, he appreciated the arachnid’s company.

The door creaked open. Two new figures stepped into the room. One of them was wearing a blue shirt, some goggles, and a red mask. The other man was wearing a green hoodie and a mask that covered his entire face. Painted on the mask was a simple smiley face. Something about the mask sent a shiver down Tommy’s spine.

The man walked up to Tommy and knelt down. With a gentle hand, he picked up the spider off his knee. Tommy’s eyes widened as he let out a series of muffled protests. The green-hooded man looked back up at Tommy. “Relax Tommy, I’m not gonna kill it.” Standing up, the man walked over to the corner and placed Shroud back onto his web. He smiled at him from under the mask, an expression that sent shivers down Tommy’s spine. “I’m not a monster.”

The man with the goggles placed the soup and water on the table. He walked over to Tommy and crouched down. Tommy pushed himself up against the pole he was tied to, the metal digging into his skin. The man reached a hand up and slowly took the tape off Tommy’s mouth, almost as if he was trying his best not to hurt him. 

“What do you bastards want from me?” Tommy croaked out. “Is it money? Whatever it is, my father will pay for it.”

The man in green chuckled. “That’s part of the reason. But there’s something else we’re needing out of you.” He nodded to the goggled man who grabbed the camera off the table. “Now, we’re going to record a little video for your father. Just read off what he’s holding-” he gestured to the man with the flame-embroidered hoodie “-and everything will be just fine.” The man crouched down and placed a hand under Tommy’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes of the mask. “However, if you try to deviate from that script, then you will face consequences. Do you understand?” he growled. Tommy nodded, a small whimper escaping from his lips.

The man smiled and stood. “Excellent!” he exclaimed. Clapping his hands together, he returned back to the other two men. “Now, on the count of three, we’re going to start recording.” Tommy heard the camera power on.

“One.”

The other man flipped open the notebook. The script was in big, bold letters.

“Two.”

Tommy took a deep breath. He had to get this right.

“Three.”

-0-

Techno found himself sitting in the living room with his family. The news was on, the weatherman going on in a monotone voice about upcoming storms. There was an anxious buzz in the room, although nothing was being said. Techno was bouncing his leg again, but Wilbur did nothing to stop him this time. He had been out with Quackity for hours last night interviewing people who might have taken Tommy, but they had turned up nothing. He felt exhausted, but he had to stay awake to see Tommy. 

The screen transitioned to the two male news anchors. Their faces were twisted into grim expressions.“We have just received word that there is an update on the missing Craft kid. Our office was sent a video with a demand to play it. We have not previewed it, so viewer discretion is strongly advised.”

The screen changed. Tommy was staring at the camera wide-eyed.

“Hello Dad, it’s me, Tommy. I am currently alive and well…” Tommy paused. “For now at least.” Kristin grabbed Phil’s hand; Phil squeezed it back.

“They want $500,000, all in cash. Leave it at the corner of 9th and Front Street on Friday at 11:00 PM. Do not tamper with the cash or whatever you put it in. Also, don’t bring the cops with you, or…” Tommy paused, his eyes widening even further. “...or I’ll be coming home in a body bag.” Wilbur’s jaw dropped. Phil and Kristin let out a strangled cry. Techno felt his entire body tense up. Oh prime, if anything went wrong, they were going to kill him.

“But that’s not the main point of all this.” Tommy paused, inhaling deeply. “This video is also a message to The Blood God, and I hope you’re watching this. My captor is asking for your immediate resignation. They don’t care how you do it, whether that be by video or by turning yourself in to the police. Do this and I'll be returned unharmed”

Techno’s heart plummeted. This was why Tommy was taken? Did his captor know that was his brother? 

Tommy gulped. “The longer that you don’t surrender, the longer I am kept here. They have all the time in the world to wait.” His voice cracked toward the end of the sentence. “However, I am begging you to give yourself up when my dad pays. Please, I want to go home!” A tear slipped down Tommy’s cheek, and the video ended. The screen transitioned back to the news anchors, their faces ashen and their jaws dropped. Kristin grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

Phil stood from the couch. “I need to contact the bank,” he gasped before running out of the room. Kristin followed him shortly after, but not before turning to the twins. 

“Everything’s going to be okay boys.”

Wilbur stood from the couch and began to pace the room. “What the hell are we going to do?” He ran his fingers through his hair before dragging them over his face. “If we surrender, you’re going to get arrested, and that would break Mom and Dad’s hearts. Not to mention what those monsters who have Tommy will do to you. And what if-”

“Wilbur!” Techno shouted. He grabbed his twin by the shoulders. “Please calm down!” He sat back down on the couch, guiding Wilbur down with him. “All this means is that we have until Friday to find a solution. That gives us five days. Plus, we have help from the detective, so it may not even take all of those five days.”

Wilbur nodded, a solemn expression crossing his face. “And what if we don’t find him by then?”

Techno sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “We…we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” But deep down, Techno knew what would happen if they didn’t find Tommy by then. He just didn’t want to tell Wilbur about his plan. Techno smiled and gently squeezed his brother’s hand. “We’ll find him in time, I promise.”

-0-

The red light on the camera turned off. Tommy’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He had gone off script at the end. His captor’s words echoed through his head: “If you try to deviate from that script, then you will face consequences.” Prime, what kind of punishment did he have in store? 

Tommy looked up at his captors, tears still involuntarily flowing down his cheek. “I’m sorry I deviated from the script. If we need to record again, I promise I won’t do it again. Please-”

The green-hooded man held his hand up, cutting Tommy off. “Calm down kid, you did great.” He bent down and Tommy flinched away. The man reached up with a gloved hand and gently wiped a tear from Tommy’s cheek. “Don’t cry, that was exactly what we needed.” Tommy nodded, a wave of relief washing over him; he was bluffing. The man stepped behind him and untied his wrists. Tommy rubbed his sore, inflamed wrists; it felt so good to have them free. The goggled man handed Tommy the soup (which was room temperature now) and water bottle.

To their credit, Tommy’s captors weren’t stupid. They knew better than to give him something like metal silverware, or even a fork or knife for that manner. Still, he was hoping that they would slip up sometime and give him something he could fight back with. But then again, where could he go with his ankles still tied up? Tommy took a bite of the soup, shuddering at the metallic flavor. He missed Techno’s cooking.

It was while Tommy was eating when an idea hit him: he could try to escape. Sure it was risky, but he could at least try. All he knew was that he had to get out of there and fast. He just needed to wait for one of his captors to be alone. With that thought, he began to plot an escape plan.

Chapter Text

Techno breathed in the night air. He had agreed to meet Quackity in the park shortly after sunset. It was Monday and they barely had a lead on where Tommy was or who had him. If he didn’t find Tommy soon, then he knew what he would have to do. Techno spotted Quackity sitting on a bench underneath a tree. He walked up to him and sat down; the detective nodded at him in acknowledgement. 

“So who will we be visiting today?” Techno asked.

Quackity pulled out a photo from a file folder. Techno took it from his hand. The picture showed a mugshot of a man with blonde hair and blue eyes. A bit of stubble covered the bottom half of his face. “His name is Punz.” said Quackity “He was arrested for a robbery last year that involved taking a couple of hostages, but he got released for good behavior.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Wilbur muttered in Techno’s communicator.

“Now you know you can’t come in with me. Don’t think people would like the Blood God showing up on their doorstep. So you’re gonna have to-”

“I know, I know. You don’t need to go over it again. I’ll keep myself hidden.”

Quackity nodded and handed them his phone. He turned on the body cam, which was disguised as a tie pin. “Don’t come in unless I’m in serious danger.” With that, Quackity set off toward Punz’s house. Techno watched as the detective rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. Even though it was foolish, some deep part of him felt like this house would lead to something.

-0-

Quackity rang the doorbell. Footsteps sounded from behind the door. Punz swung the door open, an annoyed expression on his face. “What do you want?”

Quackity flashed his badge at Punz, whose eyes slightly widened. “My name’s Detective Quackity, I’m with the Manberg police department.”

“Did my parole officer send you?”

“No sir, he didn’t. I was wondering if you had any time to talk about the missing Craft kid.”

Punz’s lips pursed. “Sure thing, come on in.” Quackity entered the house. It looked…well it looked like a house belonging to an ex-convict. The living room was sparsely furnished, with only a couch, a coffee table, and a TV mounted to the wall. “You need anything to drink?”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Quackity politely declined. He sat down at the dining room table, Punz taking a seat opposite from him. Quackity flipped open a notepad. “Now, let’s get started. Where were you on the afternoon of the 15th?”

Punz cleared his throat. “I was at work at the docks.”

Quackity nodded. “And do you have anyone to corroborate that?”

“Yeah, my boss Dream. He has the hours logged for everyone there.”

“I see…” Quackity scribbled down Dream’s name onto his notepad. “Were you aware of who Tommy Craft’s father is?”

Punz clasped his hands together. “Not until the news broke. I didn’t even know Mr. Craft had children.”

Quackity glanced at a door on the wall opposite of the kitchen. The paint was chipped in a few places and what appeared to be scratch marks near the doorknob. Something about its appearance sent a bit of a chill down the detective’s spine. “What does that lead to?”

Punz looked over at the door. “Oh, that’s just the door to my basement.”

Quackity stood, the chair he was sitting in scraping on the floor. “Mind if I take a look at it?” Punz nodded, almost a bit too eagerly. He walked over to the door and pulled out a key, unlocking the entryway. The door opened to a black void, a few steps being the only things visible. Punz gestured for the detective to enter. “You go first,” Quackity demanded. After Punz had made it down a few steps, Quackity followed, dread filling his guts.

An overhead light flickered on. Even though he knew it was unlikely, Quackity hoped to find the kid tied up in the corner. But instead, he was greeted by the sight of piles of boxes. The boxes almost seemed to form a labyrinth of some kind, like some kind of chaotic system. “This is all my stuff from before I was…well, you know.” 

Quackity shuffled around a few of the boxes, hoping to reveal something, but there was nothing to be found. He felt his heart sink with disappointment; why was finding this kid so hard? Punz cleared his throat. “Well, if you didn’t find anything, we should probably head back upstairs. Unless there’s something else you want to ask?” Quackity shook his head and followed Punz back up the stairs.

Once they reached the front door, Punz paused. “Look, I really wish I had something for you, detective. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.” Quackity was almost startled at the man’s compassion. Nodding, he quickly exited the house. He shuffled his way down the streets and into an alleyway between a café and a pawn shop.

A soft thud sounded behind him. Quackity spun around to see the Blood God standing right behind him. “Geez man, you’ve gotta stop sneaking up on me like that!”

“He’s lying. He knows something.”

Quackity nodded. “I agree. I’ll have an agent follow him around for a few days, see what he does.” He leaned against the wall of a building. An awkward silence settled between the two of them. “Why do you care so much?”

The Blood God turned to him, almost seeming startled by this question. “What?”

“Why do you care so much about this case? Shouldn’t you be stopping muggers or bank robbers right now?”

The man sighed. “Look, it’s my fault the kid was taken, all right? I figured I might as well help you find him.”

Quackity nodded. He watched as a few snowflakes began to fall from the sky. “And what are you going to do when Friday gets here? Are you just going to keep looking or…”

“I’m turning myself in. Which my partner doesn’t know about.” Quackity’s eyes widened at the Blood God’s response. He didn’t think that they had that amount of selflessness in them. Then again, Quackity didn’t really have the best impressions of them in the first place. He subconsciously ran his fingers over his scar.

“I’m sorry, by the way…for giving you that.”

Quackity scoffed. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Thanks. I don’t forgive you, but thanks.” The snow began to fall harder now, one of the flakes landing in Quackity’s good eye. “Come on, let’s get inside before we catch our death.”

-0-

This room was freezing. Tommy curled in on himself and shivered. He wasn’t sure how long, but it felt like the temperature suddenly plummeted, making the concrete underneath him turn to ice. But that didn’t matter to Tommy; he knew he would be out of there soon anyway.

The door to his prison creaked open. The man in the flame-embroidered hoodie entered, food and water in hand. He shivered; for a brief second, Tommy thought he could see the man’s breath. “Geez, it’s freezing in here. I’ll have someone bring you down a blanket.” Tommy almost wanted to smirk.

“Now before you eat, do you need to use the bathroom?” Tommy nodded. Grumbling something, the man walked over to him and untied his wrists and ankles. He turned around to grab the blindfold; this was just what Tommy was waiting for. He crept up behind the man, grabbed him by the hair, and slammed his face down onto the table. The man let out a howl of agony and crumbled to the floor. Without a second to spare, Tommy ran.

He stumbled out of the room into a hallway. Tommy sprinted toward the door at the end of the hallway, his legs shaking underneath him. How long had it been since he last stood? He heard doors open behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He turned the handle of the door and swiftly closed it behind him.

Tommy’s eyes darted around the room he was in. Judging by his surroundings, he was in some kind of large storage room. It was filled to the brim with shelves full of what looked like junk. Tommy walked up to a door on the other end of the room and grabbed the doorknob. He smiled; he was so close to getting out of there. However, when he went to turn the doorknob, it wouldn’t budge. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat; it was locked. Frantically, he began to jiggle the knob and bang on the door. “Hey, someone help! Help me, I’ve been kidnapped!” he screamed. He kicked at the door, hoping that would at least break the lock.

The other door opened. The goggled man and the man whose face he just smashed came out, rage in the latter’s eyes. Tommy was frantic now, fists beating against the door while screaming at the top of his lungs. The goggled man grabbed Tommy, pinning his arms to his side. His hand shot over Tommy’s mouth, fingernails digging into his skin. Tommy kicked and flailed in the man’s grasp, trying his best to get loose. The other man pulled a keycard out of his pocket and tapped it against a card reader, unlocking the door back to his prison.

The men carried Tommy back into the room, the man in the flame-embroidered hoodie now holding his legs. The white-masked man was waiting there holding a syringe. Tommy’s eyes widened and he began to thrash once again. He was placed on the ground, the men pinning him down. His throat felt raw from screaming, but he continued to do it. The white-masked man knelt down. “This will only pinch a little if you just relax and hold still,” he told Tommy, running his fingers through the kid’s blonde hair. In a swift motion, he plunged the needle into the boy’s arm. 

Tommy felt his head start to swim. His eyes rolled back in his skull. He felt so tired. What was in that syringe? The hand left his mouth and the grip on his limbs loosened. Tommy wanted to get up and run, but his body felt like a lead weight. Darkness began to consume his vision. The last thing he saw was the three men standing over him before everything went black.

-0-

Technoblade was awoken from his nap by a knock on his door. Stretching, he sat up in his bed. “Come in,” he answered groggily. The door swung open to reveal Wilbur, plate clutched in one hand and laptop hugged close to his chest in the other.

“Hey, Phil made some sandwiches in case you were hungry.” Nodding, Techno took the plate from his twin’s hand. Wilbur sat down in the desk chair. “You know, he’s really started to worry about you ever since Tommy was taken.”

Techno took a bite out of the sandwich. He really hated making his father worry like this, but he couldn’t let him know about his nighttime activities. Not only would he be grounded until who knows when, but the stress may send Phil to an early grave.

Wilbur opened up his laptop. “You turned off the communicator for a little bit last night. Why?”

“Because I wanted to discuss something with the detective privately,” Techno snapped. He winced at his tone. His twin’s eyes widened slightly before turning back to his laptop. He pulled something up and began to read.

Wilbur’s face paled. “Tech, you might want to come see this.”

Techno stood from his bed and rushed over to Wilbur’s side. “What is it?” he asked, anticipation lacing his voice.

Wilbur pulled up an application on his computer. “This is what I use to track police scanners. I was browsing through stuff submitted in the last hour, and I found this.” He pointed to something on the screen. Techno squinted at the message:

10:20:20 AM: Noise complaint filed at 400 Malakai Road

“So? It’s a noise complaint.”

Wilbur shook his head. “Not just any noise complaint.” Wilbur grabbed Techno’s hand. “Techno, they complained about screaming. It sounded panicked, like a cry for help.” Techno’s stomach dropped. “The person who called said the voice sounded like it belonged to a kid.”

Techno’s breath was stolen out of his chest. Tommy .

Chapter Text

Tommy was having trouble breathing. He had been for the past day, or however long it was. Every time he took a breath, it felt like a tight band was contracting around his chest. He wanted to cough, but the tape over his mouth prevented him from doing that. He felt like shit.

He watched Shroud crawl around his web. How long had he been in here; days, weeks? The lack of windows or a clock certainly didn’t help anything. He missed his family. He missed hanging out with Ranboo and Tubbo. He missed his brothers’ loving teasing of him. But most importantly, he missed his mum and dad’s affectionate gestures. He wished they would wrap their arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. Tommy curled in on himself, his chest rumbling with every breath.

The door to his room slammed open. The white-masked scurried in, but this time, he wasn’t carrying any food or water. Tommy’s stomach growled in disappointment. The man opened up the bag on the table to reveal another needle; Tommy gasped at the sight of it. The man pulled a vial out of the fridge and filled the needle. Tommy tried to inch away as the man got closer to him.

“Relax, buddy, this will only make you take a little nap.” Before Tommy could even protest, the man grabbed his arm and plunged the needle into it. Tommy immediately became light-headed. He tried to fight off the encroaching blackness, but before he knew it, it had consumed him.

When Tommy came to, he knew he was no longer in the room. The ground underneath him was rocking and shaking. The walls were a lot closer than the room. Tommy was lying on his stomach, his arms twisted behind his back. He felt his face scrape against a carpeted surface. Then it hit him: he was in the back of a car.

Tommy heard the sound of something crackling underneath the wheels. They must be on some kind of gravel road. Tommy attempted to sit up, but without the use of his hands, all he could do was squirm. He tried to take in some breaths, but that only led to a coughing fit. Good, at least the tape was off his mouth.

Suddenly, the car jerked to a stop. Tommy heard a couple of doors slam closed. Light flooded into the back of the car. He turned his head around to see the man with goggles and the man with the smiley face mask. The former of the two grabbed Tommy by his bound wrists and yanked him out of the car.

The area they were in was secluded. Nothing but barren trees surrounded them for miles, their leaves scattered on the ground. To Tommy’s left was a huge cabin. To his right was a small creek, its water half-frozen. Tommy knew that he was alone out here. And yet, he screamed. “Help! Somebody help me, please! He-”

The man holding him clamped a hand over his mouth. The other man crouched down in front of him. “Listen to me, Tommy,” he said in a harsh tone. “We are in a remote place, there’s nobody out here.” He jerked Tommy’s chin down so that they were making eye contact. “Nobody can hear you scream.” Tommy’s eyes widened.

A bag was shoved over his head. Tommy felt himself be dragged up a couple of stairs into the cabin. He was taken across the floor and down another flight of stairs. He heard a door open, and he was thrown on the floor. The man carrying him untied his wrists and took the bag off his head. Before Tommy could turn around, he heard the door slam shut. A lock clicked shortly after.

Tommy stood. The room he was in was simple. There was a bed in the corner and a small nightstand with a lamp on it. The walls were painted a light blue, almost as if the room were intended for a small child. Tommy slowly walked over to the bed and flopped down on it, not even bothering to turn back the sheets. He curled into himself, tears flowing down his cheeks. A few small coughs escaped his lips.

He wanted to go home.

-0-

Quackity closed the door behind him. He let out a sigh as he kicked his shoes off. The stress of the day seemed to weigh on his shoulders like a lead weight. As he slipped off his coat, his mind wandered to Tommy. The weather was getting worse; was he at least in a place where he was protected from the elements? He couldn’t help but imagine finding the kid half frozen, the thought sending a shiver down his spine.

The floor creaked behind him. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, making him tense for a brief second. “Hey,” a familiar voice muttered in his ear. 

Quackity smiled at the familiar sound of his fiancé’s voice. He reached up and hugged Sapnap’s neck. “Hey,” he replied back.

Sapnap guided Quackity over to the couch. They sat down, Sapnap rubbing circles into his fiancé’s back. “Karl’s bringing dinner home soon.” A look of concern spread across his face. “You look stressed. What’s the matter?”

Quackity sighed. “It’s the Craft kid case. I thought we were so close to finding him today, but nothing came out of the lead we got.” He put his head in his hand. “I’m worried about the kid, Sapnap. It’s getting colder, and he’s who knows where, maybe freezing to death.”

Sapnap gently grabbed Quackity’s chin and tilted his head upward. “Hey, you’ll find him, all right? And I’m sure that he is fine. His kidnappers probably have him somewhere safe from the cold.” He brushed a section of hair out of Quackity’s face. “I love that you’re concerned for the kid, but I don’t want you to work yourself into an early grave either.”

Quackity smiled. “Thanks. I’ll take better care of myself once he’s found.” He reached up and ran a thumb over Sapnap’s cheekbone. “You know I love you, right?”

Sapnap smiled. “I love you too.”

-0-

The docks held a foreboding air tonight. A fog had settled over the water, making it difficult to see beyond your hand. The area was silent aside from the sound of the water sloshing around below. Although Dream wasn’t here for the tranquility nor the scenery. His foot shifted, and the tarp underneath his feet crinkled. No, tonight he was here for something else. 

Dream saw the approaching headlights and smiled under his mask. The car stopped, and three men got out. Held in between two of them was another man, hands bound behind his back and a black bag over his head. The man was shouting a series of muffled protests, struggling fruitlessly against the two men holding him. One of the men forced the man down on his knees in front of Dream.

The bag was slid off the man’s head. He stared up at Dream, terror glimmering in his eyes. Dream leaned down, his face mere inches from the man. “So, you’re the one who called in the noise complaint. What do you have to say for yourself?” Dream ripped the gag out of the man’s mouth.

“Please sir, I didn’t mean to cause any harm.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But our actions have consequences, don’t they?” He paced around the man. “What’s your name?”

The man whimpered, a tear slipping down his face. “M-Michael.”

“Well, Michael, why did you call in the noise complaint?”

The man took a few deep breaths. “Well, I thought the noise was unusual for the factory. When I realized that it was screams for help, I knew I had to do something. You know, especially since that Craft kid is missing-”

“That’s enough.” Dream watched as one of the men loaded a pistol. “You got anything else you want to say?”

Michael nodded, tears spilling down his cheek. “Tell my wife that I love her.” With that, Dream nodded at the man holding the pistol. He fired, causing Michael to collapse in a bloody heap on the tarp. Dream smirked; another problem was out of his hair.

“You boys know what to do,” he told the men. With that, he walked away. He slipped into his car and took the mask off. George, who was sitting in the passenger seat, smiled at him.

“Everything taken care of?” he asked. Dream nodded and started the car. George turned up the radio. “Where are we going now?”

Dream smiled. “I thought we’d take a little vacation up in the mountains.”

-0-

The rain poured down in buckets. The citizens of Manberg were either hurrying into a store to get out of the rain or strolling along under their umbrellas. But that wasn’t what Techno was doing. Techno was on a mission tonight. He was going to get answers from Punz, no matter what it took. He left his communicator at home so that Wilbur wouldn’t know what he was doing.

He climbed his way up the apartment building’s fire escape. After a few floors, he made it to Punz’s apartment. He peaked in the bedroom window. Punz was busy in the kitchen cooking something on the stove. This was the perfect time to sneak in.

Techno stuck his sword in between the window and its frame. Shoving upward, he got it to open. He slowly slid the window open, stepping into Punz’s apartment. He hid behind the open bedroom door, holding his breath the entire time. Peeking out from behind the door, he saw Punz’s back turned to him. This was his chance. Creeping up quietly, he drew his sword out and hit Punz over the head with the hilt. Punz crumpled to the ground.

Grabbing his unconscious body, Techno dragged Punz over to a chair. He sat him down and grabbed a zip tie from his belt, tying his wrists behind his back. Techno paced around the room, waiting for Punz to wake up. Soon he would know where Tommy is, and everything would be alright. Punz groaned, his head swinging upwards. The man looked around, panicked.

“So, how does it feel to be the one tied up?” Techno asked.

“Wha-”

Techno slapped Punz across the face. “Don’t play dumb with me! I know you’re involved in kidnapping the kid!” Punz tensed. “Tell me where he is, now!”

“I don’t know, man,” Punz whimpered. Techno slapped him again. “I mean it, I seriously don’t know.”

Techno punched Punz. “I know you’re lying. Tell me where he is, and this can all stop.” Punz shook his head; Techno punched him again.

“Alright, man, alright!” Punz took a deep breath, blood dripping down his nose. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk. Just stop fucking hitting me.” 

Techno leaned forward, the tiny camera no doubt in Punz’s face. “Then start talking,” he growled.

“They moved the kid, alright? I don’t know where he is now, they didn’t tell me.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, man! I don’t know where he is!”

Techno heard pounding at the front door. Shit, the neighbors had probably heard the commotion. Before he could even react, the door was kicked wide open. Detective Quackity stood in the doorway, jaw dropped. “What the hell is going on here?” he shouted. He walked up to Punz, pocket knife in hand. With precision, he cut him loose. Punz rubbed at his wrist. Quackity grabbed Techno’s arm in a firm grip. “I’m so sorry about this sir.” He dragged Techno out of the apartment and out of the building.

Quackity slammed Techno up against a building. “What the hell were you thinking?” he hissed, venom in his tone. “Do you understand how stupid that was?” He slapped Techno upside the head. “Huh, do you?” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You know what, forget it.” He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. His shoulders relaxed as he took a drag. “You know what, I think we need to talk about our deal.”

Techno pushed himself off the wall. Dread was piling in his stomach. “What do you mean?”

Quackity smirked. “You know, I could have you arrested.” Techno felt his stomach drop. “It would be really easy. I could cuff you right now and drag you into the station.” He took another deep inhale of his cigarette. “However, I won’t arrest you on one condition.” He leaned forward into Techno’s face. “If you reveal your identity, then you can walk free.”

Techno froze. Should he show his identity to him? On the one hand, he could arrest him regardless. But on the other hand, he couldn’t find Tommy in jail. And since nobody knew he was the Blood God, his captors would still keep him even when the ransom was paid. Techno sighed. “Alright, just don’t freak out or anything.” Slowly, he slipped his mask and his goggles off.

Quackity’s eyes widened. “Technoblade?” He took a few steps forward and reached up to touch his face. “Oh my god.” He staggered back. “So I’ve just been running around with some rich kid this entire time?”

Techno nodded. “Yep.”

Quackity ran a finger through his hair. “And your communication partner?” Techno’s shoulders tensed. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed that.”

Techno took a deep breath. “That would be Wilbur.”

The detective nodded. “Gotcha.” He sighed and stomped his cigarette out on the concrete. “At least I know why you’re so desperate to find Tommy now.” He sighed. “I’m not going to arrest you, by the way. I need you in order to find him.” He smiled. “We’re going to find him, alright?”

Techno chuckled. “Alright.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal on not arresting me?”

Quackity shook his hand. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

Techno could feel the pressure of the clock on him. It was already Friday, and they had yet to find Tommy. And despite all of his anxiety, Techno found himself in the library with a book in his lap. Although his mind wasn’t on the book. No, what was on his mind was what he would have to do this evening if Tommy wasn’t found. He had thought about the possibility of him being killed by Tommy’s captors. But at this point, he didn’t care; what mattered to him was having his little brother safe at home.

A knock sounded at the front door. Phil stood there, a small smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Techno, the detective is here to see you. Says it’s urgent.”

Techno put the book down. “Sure, let him in.” Wilbur entered the library shortly after. “Hey, is Quackity here to see you too?” Techno nodded, anxiety bubbling in his gut. He still hadn’t told Wilbur that Quackity knew about his alter ego. Nor did he tell him that he knew about Wilbur. But now was a better time than any. 

“Wilbur, there’s something I need to tell you,” Techno whispered. Wilbur turned to him, anxiety in his eyes. Footsteps were approaching the library. “He knows.” Wilbur’s eyes widened, his mouth becoming slightly agape. But before he could say anything, there was another knock at the door.

Quackity stood in the doorway, a laptop clutched in his arms. “Hey, I’ve got something that might lead us to Tommy.” He sat down in the chair across from the twins. Quackity looked up at Wilbur, an amused expression on his face. “I’m guessing you just told him?” Techno nodded. “Great. Let’s get started then.” 

He typed something into the laptop. “A buddy of mine works on the surveillance cameras for the city. He was able to get me the footage around the warehouse around the time the noise complaint was filed.” He spun the laptop around to reveal an alleyway. A figure was carrying something in his arms. Techno pushed his glasses up his nose. It was then that he spotted it: the thing-or person-the figure was carrying had blonde hair. Another man came into the frame shortly after. Tommy was placed in the back of a van, the other figure closing the door on him. Quackity paused the footage.

“Oh my god…” Wilbur whispered. Silence settled in the room. “How does this footage help us?”

Quackity zoomed in on an image of the license plate. “Because we’ve got this. Once the image has been clarified and the tag’s been run, we’ll know who has Tommy.” He closed the laptop. “All I need is for you to hold out for a couple of days at most.” Quackity leaned against the chair. “So, I’ve got a question for you, Techno.”

“Go on,” Techno said.

“What caused you to become The Blood God?”

Techno took a deep breath. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Go ahead, we’ve got enough time.”

-0-

Techno shuddered as the sharp December wind cut through his jacket. He had just finished up his last final of the semester, and he couldn’t be more relieved. This gave him plenty of time to read whatever he wanted, not just something his professors assigned. His boots crunched in the thin layer of snow under his feet. 

He had to admit, there was something unnerving about walking around campus at night. He always felt like someone was watching him, even though he knew that wasn’t the case. He shrugged his backpack up on his shoulder, feeling a bit tenser. He glanced over his shoulder once again to make sure that nobody was following him.

“Help! Someone help me, please!” a voice shrieked. Techno turned in the direction of the screaming to see it was coming from behind one of the engineering buildings. Techno froze; should he help or should he keep walking? He needed to keep himself safe, but if something bad were to happen to that person, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Shoving aside every impulse to run, Techno snuck behind the building, pocket knife in hand.

There were two men in the alleyway, one of which was holding a gun. It was then that Techno spotted it: the person who was being threatened was his classmate Hannah. “Shut up and give us everything you’ve got,” the man holding her hissed. His hand was over her mouth, muffling her screams. Techno gasped; he had to act now before she got hurt.

Techno stepped out from his hiding spot. “Hey!” he shouted. The men turned toward him, rage in his eyes. Techno wanted to run away, but he stood his ground. “Let her go.”

The man with the gun sneered. “Get out of here, kid.”

Taking in a deep breath, Techno charged toward the man. He cocked the pistol, ready to fire. But before he could, Techno tackled him to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hand. Techno punched the man in the face repeatedly, each punch hurting his knuckles. But that didn’t matter to him; what mattered to him is making sure this man wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

“-chno, Techno stop!” He felt a hand delicately grab his elbow. Techno turned around to see Hannah, fear in her eyes. “Techno, stop! He’s gone.” Techno panted as he was pulled off the man. He looked back to see the man covered in blood, his face red and swollen.

“Hannah, are you okay?” Techno asked, his hands gripping her shoulders. Techno could hear the man he just beat up running away, but he didn’t care about him at this point.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She pushed some of her hair out of her face. “Techno, why did you do that?”

“I…I don’t know.” Silence fell between the two, only interrupted by the howls of the wind. “You want me to walk you back to your car?”

-0-

Quackity nodded. “So a random classmate pushed you towards becoming a vigilante?”

Techno shifted on the couch. “Not exactly. I stayed up late thinking about that event. I mean, what if that happened to Wilbur or Tommy?” He let out a dry laugh. “Though I suppose me becoming a vigilante led us down this path.”

Wilbur placed a gentle hand on his back. “Tech, this isn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to do a good thing.” Techno nodded.

Quackity stood up. “I’ve got to go back to the office. Just wait a couple of days for the license plate to be read. Don’t do anything stupid, alright?” With that, he left. But little did Quackity or Wilbur know, Techno planned to do just that.

-0-

George was seriously starting to become concerned about Tommy’s health. The kid hadn’t eaten for the past day, sometimes flat-out refusing meals. At first, he thought this was a hunger strike, but that seemed wrong. Whenever he would watch the security camera in Tommy’s room, he would see him curled up in bed. Dream gave him a few extra blankets to protect him from the bitter winter, which he buried himself in. He was very different from the bubbly, spitfire kid that he had heard about.

Dream was cooking some mushroom soup for Tommy when it was brought up. “Hey Dream, I think Tommy might be genuinely sick. I’m gonna check his temperature when I feed him,” George told him. Dream nodded; taking that as a sign of approval, he fished out a thermometer from the bathroom cabinet.

A tray was waiting for George on the kitchen counter. “Let’s hope that he isn’t sick. I don’t know what we’d do if he is,” Dream told him. Nodding, George took the tray and walked down the stairs into the basement.

George stepped into the room. Tommy was curled up under his pile of blankets on the bed, yet he was still shivering. He was sound asleep; George could swear he heard the kid’s chest rumble with every breath he took. Gently, George placed his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and shook it. Tommy’s eyes fluttered open, a look of confusion and annoyance plastered on his face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” George asked. Tommy didn’t respond. He set the mushroom soup and a glass of water on the table. “I’m gonna need you to sit up for me.” He grabbed Tommy under his arms and lifted him into a sitting position. Tommy groaned in protest. George grabbed the thermometer and turned it on.

“Alright kid, I’m gonna stick this in your ear real quick. Don’t flinch or jerk around, you got it?” Tommy nodded. George stuck the thermometer in Tommy’s ear, waiting for the beep. When he pulled it out, his jaw dropped. It read: 101.5℉. Tommy let out a loud series of coughs. George felt anxiety fluttering in his stomach. “You can go back to sleep now.” George stepped out of the room, locked the door, and hurried back upstairs.

Dream stood from the couch. “Well, what’s going on with him?” he asked. For a brief second, George thought he could hear concern in his tone.

George sighed. “It’s not good. He’s practically coughing up a lung. He’s got a fever, a pretty bad one too. The kid seems to be pretty out of it.” He paused. “I think it might be the flu or pneumonia.”

Dream nodded. “I’ll get him something to help with the fever and the cough.”

“Dream, that’s only a temporary solution. He’s going to get worse. He may even have to go to the hospital if things get too bad.”

“What, do you think we can just waltz into the hospital? ‘Hey, here’s the kid I kidnapped who may or may not be dying from pneumonia.” Dream sighed and sat down on the couch, head in his hand. “If we can just hold out long enough for Friday, then maybe we won’t have to deal with that.”

George nodded, a grim expression on his face. “Gotcha.” He sat down on the couch. “Has the Blood God turned himself in yet?”

“No. I imagine he’s trying to find the kid himself. He got pretty close with Punz, but thankfully he kept his mouth shut.” An awkward silence settled between the two of them. Dream stood from the couch.

“I’ll go to the drugstore to get some meds for Tommy. Make sure he eats something. I don’t care how, just get him to do it.” With that, Dream exited the house, locking the door behind him.

George slid down the couch and sighed, running a finger through his brown hair. When he thought about kidnapping one of the elite’s kids to protect Dream’s crime empire, he never pictured things turning out like this. Now they’re stuck with a kid who may or may not be dying in their basement. George couldn’t wait for the Blood God to hand himself in, then this would all be out of their hair.

-0-

Techno took a deep breath as he looked at the clock. 10:00 PM; it was almost time. He had his vigilante gear on, ready to go. Was he ready? No, but he needed to get Tommy back. 

He sighed as he finished off the last sentence of the note he was going to leave for Wilbur. If he were to die tonight, he wanted his family to know the truth about him. So, he had written a note for Kristin and Phil explaining everything: how he was The Blood God and how he had started this whole mess. For Wilbur, he was leaving a note explaining his plan. To Techno, it felt like he was writing his last will and testament.

At dinnertime, Techno had to pretend he was fine. But deep down, his mind was racing. Would they let Tommy go even though the ransom would be paid and he would be turned in? Would they kill him, or prime forbid, Tommy? What if things went south for them? But at this point, Techno didn’t care; this needed to end now.

Techno crept over to his parents’ bedroom. Of course, they weren’t asleep right now. They were sitting on the living room couch, Phil about to leave to pay the ransom. He could hear them quietly talking to each other downstairs. Techno, with shaking hands, slid the envelope under the door. 

He tread down the hallway to Wilbur’s room, pressing his ear up against the door. He could hear the soft snores of his twin, which is just what he needed. Techno slowly opened the door; Wilbur was fast asleep. Techno pulled the note out and placed it on the nightstand. He stood over his brother, watching him sleep. Sighing, Techno pushed a bit of Wilbur’s hair out of his eyes. He looked so peaceful, and Techno wishes things could say that way. 

Techno opened up the window and set a foot out. He turned back one last time to Wilbur, who was still asleep. Techno smiled. “So long, Wilbur,” he muttered. With that, he swung his other leg out the window and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Text

Technoblade ran across the roofs of buildings. His feet slammed against the concrete. It was almost time for the ransom to be paid, and he was several blocks away from the pickup area. His chest was heaving, his heart pounding, but he had to ignore that right now. What mattered was getting one step closer to rescuing Tommy.

He skidded to a stop on the roof of a closed bakery. Techno saw Phil rounding the corner, a bag of money in his hands. His shoulders were tense, his head constantly on a swivel. Techno watched as Phil placed the bag in an alleyway and then quickly scurried off.

Two men came out of the shadows; this is exactly what he had been waiting for. Quietly, Techno descended down the fire escape. “Hey!” he shouted. The two men turned to him, guns drawn. Techno put his hands up. “Hey fellas, put your weapons down. I’m unarmed, see?” Hesitantly, the men put their guns away. Techno walked further into the alleyway. “I’m coming with you guys.”

One of the men nodded. “Alright, turn around; hands behind your back.” Techno complied, feeling the sensation of rope wrapping around his wrists. The man grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. “Come on, walk.” Techno was shoved inside the back of the van, the door slammed in his face quickly after. He heard the front doors slam shut, and the vehicle lurched forward.

Techno knew it was a stupid thing coming here without his swords. But he knew that if he brought them, they would try to kill him. This was so reckless. He leaned against the side of the van and sighed. He had to do this, for Tommy.

Before he knew it, the van came to a stop. The doors flung open to reveal a man in a mask and a green hoodie: Dream . One of the men handed off the ransom money to Dream while the other got in to pull out Techno. Dream smirked at him. “Well, I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.” He began to walk towards a short, black sedan. “Blindfold him and put him in the back.”

A strip of fabric was tied around Techno’s eyes. He was shoved into the back of the sedan, the door slamming shut. Techno felt the vehicle move forward. Dread was building in his stomach. He had to be brave, he could do this.

-0-

Quackity was typing away at his computer. While he loved being out on the field, he hated the paperwork part of his job. He felt like every second he was in here, the more Tommy was in danger. But soon all this would be over. At least he hoped it would be with the information Skeppy had sent him.

“No, no, I need to speak to him!” Quackity stood from his cubicle to see Wilbur arguing with Sam. He looked desperate and afraid. Quackity walked up to the two men. “Hey Sam, it’s alright, he’s with me.” Nodding, Sam left back to his office.

Quackity guided Wilbur over to his cubicle, grabbing an office chair from one of the empty desks. Wilbur collapsed into the chair, his hands shaking. “Wilbur, what’s going on?”

“Techno’s gone.”

“What?”

“He’s gone. He’s turned himself into Dream.” Quackity’s stomach dropped. “What are we going to do?” Wilbur put his head in his hands. “I can’t lose both of my brothers.”

Quackity placed a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “Hey, no need to panic.” He turned around and woke up his computer. “The license plate number was run through. And judging by the security camera footage, he was heading towards the mountains.”

“How does that help anything?”

Quackity smirked. “Because Dream has a cabin up here.” Quackity stood from his chair. “We’re sending officers and EMTs out that way.”

Wilbur stood. “I can’t just stand by while they’re in danger. I’m coming with you.”

“Wilbur no, it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care!” Wilbur snapped.

Quackity sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Alright, fine.”

“Detective!” Sam shouted. “We’re heading out!”

Quackity turned towards Wilbur, a grin spreading across his face. “You know how to handle a rifle?”

-0-

Tommy longed to be unconscious. At least then he wasn’t consciously focusing on every breath he took. He was curled up under his blankets, trying his best to fall asleep again. The teenager felt so hot yet so cold at the same time. He had taken the medication for his fever hours earlier, but it must have worn off at this point.

The door opened to reveal the goggled man in the doorway. He had another bowl of soup and a water bottle in his hand. A book was under his arm. “Hey, I brought you something to read since you’ve been behaving so well.” Tommy glared at him. Of course he was behaving, he could barely sit up at this point. The man grabbed him under his arms and lifted him up into a sitting position.

“Alright kid, can you feed yourself?” Tommy nodded. The man handed him the bowl of chicken noodle soup. Although Tommy’s appetite was long gone, he still ate. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if he said no.

A short tune rang throughout the room. The man pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. How long had he had that? He answered the phone. “Hello?” Silence. “Really, you did?” More silence. “Well, how long will it take for you to get here?” Tommy’s stomach twisted with dread. “Okay, I’ll get him ready. Bye.” The man hung up and turned to him. Tommy could feel his heart skip a beat. “Well kid, looks like your savior is arriving.”

Tommy almost dropped the bowl of soup in his hand. The Blood God had finally surrendered? He could finally go home! The goggled man took the bowl of soup out of his hand and lifted him onto his feet. “Come on kid, let’s make you look less like a mess.”

-0-

Techno’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. This car ride felt like it was going on for an eternity, filled with twists and turns. Dream hadn’t spoken a single word to him the entire trip, rather turning on the radio up to practically full volume. Judging by how much the car was swerving, they were somewhere up in the mountains. Of course Tommy was there; it was isolated so that nobody could hear him scream.

He heard the smooth roads turn to the crackle of gravel underneath the wheels. Anxiety was fluttering in Techno’s stomach; they were here. He felt the car come to a stop. The door opened and he was yanked out of the vehicle. He was dragged up some stairs, a sudden wave of warmth flowing over him. Dream shoved him onto something plush before taking the blindfold off.

Techno blinked fast, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. He sat in a living room across from another couch. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, making the room even warmer. If a kidnapping hadn’t occurred here, Techno might have thought of this place as cozy.

Dream sat down across from him, a smirk on his lips. “So, the infamous Blood God, we finally meet.”

Techno smirked. “And it’s nice to finally see each other face to face.” Techno shifted on the couch. “Alright, I’ve surrendered myself and the money’s been payed. Where’s the kid?”

Dream smirked. “Relax, he’s just fine; he’s unharmed.” He turned around. “Hey, you can bring up Tommy now!” The floorboards creaked. A man in a blue shirt and ridiculous sunglasses came into the room, Tommy in tow. Techno almost gasped at the sight of his brother. He was so pale, yet his cheeks were bright red. His eyes were glazed over. If Techno listened closely, he could faintly hear the sound of wheezing coming from him. But most importantly, little finger-shaped bruises dotted his arms.

Techno glared at Dream. “You swore you would return him unharmed.” He gestured to Tommy. “This isn’t unharmed.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Tommy sat down on the couch, seemingly uninterested about the fact that The Blood God was in front of him. “Now then, what to do with you? I could have you killed off right here and now.” He chuckled at Techno’s tension. “But no, I think I’ve got much better plans for you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Be my personal debt collector and hitman, and I’ll let the kid go.” Tommy seemed to snap out of his haze. “If not, well then I’ll just have to keep him a bit longer, won’t I?”

Tommy furiously shook his head. “No, don’t do-”

Dream pressed his hand over Tommy’s mouth. “Now, now, be quiet. The adults are talking.”

“Get your hands off of him,” Techno snarled. Dream smirked and took his hand off Tommy’s mouth.

“Before we make our little deal, I need you to do one thing.” Dream stood and leaned over Technoblade. The vigilante could swear that he could see Dream’s eyes through the mask. “I need to see your face. I want to make this deal with the man behind the mask, not just the Blood God.”

Technoblade nodded. “Okay.” With slow hands, Dream removed the hood from his head, revealing his pink hair. Tommy’s jaw dropped. Dream pulled the goggles and mask off. Techno gave his brother a small smile. “Hey Tommy,” he said quietly.

“Tech?” Tommy whispered.

“How adorable!” Dream exclaimed. “The two siblings are finally reunited.” Dream walked over to Tommy and gripped his jaw in a strong grasp. “So, how about it? Work for me, or risk your precious little brother never seeing his family again?”

Tommy furiously shook his head at Techno. “Don’t do it, Techno! I’ll be fine, just don’t do this!”

Techno took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll do it,” he growled through barred teeth. “Just let Tommy go.”

Dream smirked and let go of Tommy’s jaw. “Glad we could come to an agreement.” 

“Techno, are you crazy?” Tommy shouted. “Don’t do th-”

Dream turned and glared at Tommy. “George, get something to shut the kid up!” The man in the sunglasses-George, grabbed Tommy by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen. “Now, back to our agreement. You understand that once you’re in, you can’t get out?”

Techno nodded. “I understand.”

“Excellent. I have a contract you need to sign. Wait right here and I’ll go get it.” Techno rolled his eyes; it’s not like he had anywhere to go. Dream walked out of sight. George returned, Tommy in tow. He had duct tape over his mouth again and a fire in his eyes. George threw Tommy on the couch across from Techno.

Tommy looked at his older brother wide-eyed. Although he couldn’t talk, Techno knew what he’d be saying. “I’m sorry, Tommy. But I can’t let these monsters hold onto you.” It was up close that Techno could see the heaving of Tommy’s chest and the thin layer of sweat that covered his forehead. He couldn’t breathe; he needed to get to the hospital fast.

Dream returned to the living room, a stack of paper and a pen in hand. He sat across from the two brothers, a large grin on his face. “Techno, if I untie you to sign this, will you not fight us?”

Techno opened his mouth to reply, but then immediately snapped it closed. It was then that Techno heard it: the crunch of gravel under what sounded like tires. From his judgement, it sounded like several vehicles were approaching. Techno’s stomach dropped. Oh Prime, Wilbur had contacted Quackity.

George got up and peeked out the window. “Dream,” he said in a tiny voice. “There’s lots of people outside.”

Dream snarled. “I thought I told you no cops.”

Chapter Text

Techno’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. Prime, he was so stupid for leaving that note. He should have known that Wilbur would reach out to Quackity. Now both Tommy and his lives were in danger. Dream had left the room a few minutes ago muttering a series of curses to himself.

Tommy was looking up at Techno, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. He tried to talk, but it was muffled by the tape. Techno smiled at him, anxiety no doubt apparent on his face. “It’s okay, Tommy. We’re gonna be okay.” His brother didn’t look so assured.

Dream walked out of the kitchen, a roll of duct tape in hand. He ripped off a long piece and pressed it firmly against Techno’s mouth. “Now here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to follow us outside. Don’t struggle or run away or we’ll shoot you. Got it?” Techno and Tommy nodded. Dream smiled. “Good, glad we could come to an agreement.”

Dream yanked Tommy off the couch, George grabbing Techno. A gun was pushed into their lower backs. “Move it,” Dream snarled. The four of them made their way to the front door. As soon as it opened, a line of policemen pointed their guns.

“Now, now, folks, I assure you that you don’t want to do that. After all, you wouldn’t want the kids to get hurt, would you?” The guns dropped. George’s pressure with the gun on Techno’s back loosened. 

“Now then, you have two choices,” George said. “You either shoot me and save Tommy or shoot my partner and save Techbo. But the moment you shoot one of us, the other one kills the hostage.” Tommy’s eyes widened. “So, make your pick.”

An eerie silence settled over the area; not even the crickets were chirping. The cops were muttering amongst themselves, the paramedics staring on in horror. Techno’s breathing quickened; he didn’t want Tommy to die tonight.

Dream smirked. “Not an easy decision to make? Fine; guess I’ll let them plead their cases.” Dream ripped the tape off Tommy’s mouth. “Go ahead, say something you little brat.”

A small sob bubbled from Tommy’s throat. “Please,” he begged. “I don’t want to die.” Techno sighed with relief. Good, he had some sense of self-preservation.

“Hope that makes your decision easier.” A tear rolled down Tommy’s cheek; Dream slowly wiped it away with his thumb. Techno lunged at him, his shouts muffled.

Suddenly, the pressure of the gun was gone from Techno’s back. He could feel George tugging on the ropes around his wrists. Dream stared on in shock. “George, what are you doing?”

“This wasn’t part of the plan, Dream!” George shouted back.

Dream’s face contorted into one of rage. He moved the gun up to Tommy’s head. “Make another move and the kid dies!” Tommy whimpered.

What happened in the next couple of seconds was something that not even Techno anticipated. A shot rang out through the night air. Suddenly, Dream fell to the ground gripping a bleeding knee. Techno felt the rope drop off his wrists. With a delicate hand, George took the tape off Techno’s mouth. “Go to your brother,” he whispered into his ear. Techno watched as the cops tackled George to the ground.

A click sounded. Techno spun around to see Dream laying on the floor, gun in hand. And it was pointed straight at Tommy. Techno began to run toward his brother, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“TOMMY!”

BANG

The entire world seemed to slow down. Techno gasped in agony and grasped his side. The pain seemed to blossom like an electric shock. He felt himself fall to the ground, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. Tommy fell shortly after, uninjured. Techno lightly touched where he was hit; he could feel warmth spreading across his fingers.

Men were yelling around him. Techno saw a blur of yellow hovering over him-Wilbur. Everything hurt so bad! Black dots danced at the end of his vision. Wilbur was pushed away by a couple of people who he recognized as paramedics. Without warning, he was lifted, sending waves of pain throughout his body. He couldn’t help but cry out at the agony. The blackness was further encroaching on his vision. He tried his best to fight it, but it was no use. As soon as someone touched his wound, Techno blacked out.

-0-

The leaves crunched underneath Tommy as he hit the ground. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder, but that didn’t matter to him right now. He turned his head to see Techno laying on the ground, blood blossoming on his side. Tommy heard something that he realized was him screaming Techno’s name. He felt a couple of tears slide down his cheeks. Even though it would likely cause a coughing fit, he still cried out for his brother, praying that he was still alive. 

Tommy heard footsteps running up to him, almost matching the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He heard a voice shouting something. A gentle hand laid on his back; Tommy jerked away.

“Hey, hey. Tommy, it’s me, it’s Wilbur. You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Tommy stilled. “I’m gonna cut you loose, just hold still.” He felt something cutting at the rope around his wrists. A blanket was placed over him. Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground and into Wilbur’s arms. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” Tommy wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s neck and coughed into his chest. The tears were pouring faster now, but this time they weren’t ones of sorrow.

He blinked and suddenly he was laying in the back seat of a car. Tommy sat up, his stomach dropping. Wilbur laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Tommy, it’s okay. We’re in the back of a police car and we’re taking you to the hospital.” Tommy was too tired to argue, so all he could do was nod. He heard someone get into the front of the car; Tommy could vaguely make out a beanie on the man’s head. The sirens turned on, and the car jerked forward.

Tommy leaned against his brother’s chest, letting the sound of his breathing wash over him. Wilbur gently ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair, humming a comforting tune to him. “Wilbur, what’s going to happen to Techno?” Tommy croaked.

Wilbur’s hand briefly paused. “They’re probably gonna take him into surgery to get the bullet out. He’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Tommy nodded; he sure hoped he would be. He could vaguely hear his own wheezing. “Is anything hurting right now?”

Tommy nodded. “My chest and my shoulder.”

Wilbur hummed. “Okay. I’ll make sure they look at that.” A silent pause settled between the two of them. “Everything’s going to be fine now, I promise.”

Tommy could hear Wilbur resume humming. He felt so warm and relaxed, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. The cop said something, but he couldn’t make out exactly what. Tommy felt his eyelids start to flutter closed. Maybe a quick nap before they got to the hospital would be good. He yawned, and before he knew it, he was out.

Wilbur watched as his brother’s eyes closed. He waited for a few minutes to make sure he was out before he said anything. Tommy’s soft snores filled in the awkward silence in the vehicle. “Quackity, what’s going to happen to Techno, legally speaking?”

Quackity sighed. “Honestly Wilbur, I don’t know. They may arrest him, they may not. It’s up to the police and the mayor to decide.” With that, the cabin of the car was left in silence, only interrupted by Tommy’s rumbled breathing.

Wilbur mindlessly ran his fingers through his brother’s hair. He felt so…hopeless. Tommy was seriously sick and Techno might be going to prison. He could only hope that Sam and Schlatt were merciful.

-0-

The first thing that Techno knew when he woke up was pain. It was spreading all over him like an infection, clawing its way over his side and onto every bit of his abdomen. Techno cracked his eyes open to see lights passing over him. Two heads were floating above him. He could make out the rumble of their voices, but not the actual words they were saying.

The next thing he knew, he was on a cold table. Things were being stuck in and on him. He wanted to sit up, but he was too weak to muster the energy. A mask was placed over his mouth and nose; a woman was counting down. Before she could even get to five, Techno was out again.

When he woke up again, he was immediately greeted by the same lights. Except this time, they weren’t passing him by. He was laying on something soft and warm. Techno could make out the sounds of monitors and faint, distant chattering. When his eyes came into focus (or about as well as they could without his glasses), he could see an IV inserted into his arm. There was also a tube of blood going into him. His head was pounding.

“Sweetie?” a feminine voice called out; Mom.

Techno turned his head toward his mother. “Hey,” he croaked out.

She smiled. “Hey. Your father and Wilbur are out getting food.”

Techno looked around. “Where…”

“Tommy’s alright. They’re treating him in the next room over. You can visit him tomorrow if you’d like.” Techno nodded and leaned back, a loud sigh escaping from his mouth.

Kristin scooted closer, a small smirk on her lips. “So, you’re the infamous Blood God.”

Techno cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s kind of a long story.”

She chuckled. “We have all the time in the world right now.” Techno opened his mouth to speak. “You don’t have to tell me right now. Just whenever you’re ready.”

The door opened; it was Phil. He slipped his mask off. “Hey, how about we swap rooms for a little bit?” Kristin nodded and got up from her seat. Phil gently kissed his wife on the forehead before she left. Techno shifted awkwardly in the hospital bed as his father sat down in the seat next to the bed. A silence fell between the two of them.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Techno said. “I’m sorry for keeping all this a secret. I’m sorry for scaring you and mom. And-”

Phil placed a gentle hand on Techno’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, I’m not mad at you.”

“...You’re not?”

“No, I’m not; for now at least. But I was scared. I thought I might lose both you and Tommy.” Techno felt his heart twist with guilt. He was right, he shouldn’t have scared his father like that again. “Techno, promise me something.”

“What is it?”

Phil ran his finger through Techno’s disheveled hair. “Promise me you’ll never do something that impulsive or stupid again, okay?” Techno nodded. “Alright. I brought your glasses with me. The nurses said that something light on your stomach would be good, so I bought you a salad.”

Techno smiled as he put on his glasses. “Thanks, Dad.” Phil smiled. “You don’t have to watch me, you know. You can eat too.” As the two of them ate in silence, Techno thought about what just happened. What if something had gone wrong? Then either he or Tommy wouldn’t be here. And yet, here they were, hearts still beating. 

It was good to be alive.

Chapter Text

This was one of the most chaotic moments in Quackity’s career. Calls from hospitals and his coworkers flooded his phone all the time, and his email box was always being spammed. There were even a few nosy true crime podcast hosts who had somehow managed to get his personal phone number, and those calls were immediately blocked. He loved having something to do, but it was getting to be a bit too much.

Quackity kicked his shoes off as soon as he entered the apartment. Sighing, he hung his keys up and stretched, his back popping. “Hey, I’m home!” He shrieked as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, picking him up off the ground. There was only one of his fiancés that had ridiculous strength like that.

“Karl, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?” Quackity asked, a small chuckle betraying his fake irritation. Quackity adjusted his beanie the second he was put down. “How are you?” he asked, giving his fiancé a small peck on the cheek.

“Eh, can’t complain. Ninth graders are being a bit of a pain, though.” Quackity nodded. He never really got why Karl wanted to work as a history teacher, but that was his business.

“Something smells good; Sap must be cooking tonight, then,” Quackity said, smirking at Karl. Karl snickered and playfully smacked Quackity on the arm. “Alright, that was a bit uncalled for,” Quackity teased.

“Dinner’s gonna be ready in about ten minutes. I did make the tzatziki though, so you might want to avoid that.” Quackity laughed. 

A chipper, short tune rang from Quackity’s pocket. “Hang on, I’ve got to get this,” Quackity said. He answered, putting the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Quackity?” It was Sam; had he done something wrong?

“Hey S-”

“Quackity, listen to me. I need you to get Karl and get out of the apartment now. Got it?”

Quackity’s stomach dropped into his feet. What on Earth could be wrong? “O-okay.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside.” And with that, Sam hung up. Quackity slowly lowered the phone from his ear, his hand shaking a little. He took a deep breath; he could do it.

Quackity walked into the kitchen. Sapnap had his back turned to him, too busy working on some chicken to realize Quackity had even come in. Karl was chopping up some vegetables, a small smile on his face. He cleared his throat, startling his fiancés. Sapnap smiled. “Hey! When did you get home?” He stepped away from the stove to give Quackity a kiss on the cheek.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Quackity curtly replied. He cleared his throat. “Karl, I left some bags in my car, and I need help getting them upstairs. Think you could take a cooking break for a minute?”

“I can help you-”

“NO!” Sapnap and Karl stared at him as if he had a second head. “I mean, it’s got something for you in it, and I don’t want the surprise to be ruined. That’s why I need Karl.”

Karl set the knife down. “Sure thing,” he replied. He turned to Sapnap. “Keep an eye on the chicken. I’ll be right back.” Nodding, Sapnap turned back to the stove, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Quackity took his fiancé down the stairs, shouts of “what’s going on’s” and “what are you doing’s” following him the entire time. “Quackity, let go of me! You’re hurting my arm!” Karl shouted.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on the doorknob. “Sorry about that. Look, when we get out there, don’t…don’t freak out.” Karl opened his mouth to reply, but instead, simply shut it and nodded. Taking that as an okay, Quackity opened the door, and what he saw even shocked him.

There were at least three cop cars in the parking lot, and at least six men standing there; some men even had their guns drawn. “Hold your fire!” a familiar voice commanded. The men dropped their weapons seemingly all at once. Quackity rushed toward the line of cars, Karl following shortly after.

“Sam, what the hell is going on?” Quackity hissed.

The man in question signaled two men to enter the apartment building. He sighed, placing a hand on Quackity’s shoulder. “We were reviewing footage of the warehouse where they kept Tommy. And…Sapnap was seen multiple times going into the area where the kid was.” Karl gasped.

“What the hell are you saying, Sam?”

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m saying that your fiancé may be involved in Tommy’s kidnapping!” 

Just then, the stairway door burst open. The two officers were back, this time carrying Sapnap out in handcuffs. He was cursing out the cops, who didn’t respond to any of his empty threats. However, when he and Quackity locked eyes he saw something that ripped the latter’s heart in half: Sapnap’s eyes were glittering with betrayal.

Karl wrapped his arms around Quackity’s shoulders. “He’s okay, right? Everything’s gonna be okay?”

Quackity placed a gentle hand on Karl’s “I don’t know honey, I don’t know.”

-0-

Tommy was getting really tired of the hospital. It smelled like shit and was so bright . Thankfully, according to his dad, he should be able to go home today. A nurse had come in and taken his vitals again, saying she’d be back to take some labs.

Phil smiled at him. “You ready to go home?”

Tommy smiled, one of the first genuine smiles he had since he was taken. “Yeah, I’m ready to get back to my bed.” His father chuckled. “Think they’re gonna make me pee in a cup again?”

Phil put down the book he was reading and smiled one of those smiles that made his crow’s feet show up. “No, I don’t think they will.”

A knock sounded at the door. A nurse came in rolling a cart; but when Tommy saw the contents of the cart, his stomach sank. The nurse had brought in a blood lab kit, meaning that Tommy would be poked and prodded with needles.

In an instant, Tommy’s demeanor changed, becoming tense and nervous in a second. The nurse smiled at him. “All right, Tommy! We’ve just gotta take a little bit of blood and you’ll be good to go.”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I’m not doing it,” he mumbled. Phil’s eyes softened, his eyebrows furrowing. He placed a gentle 

“Tommy-”

“No!”

“Sweetie, this will all be over soon if you just relax and hold still.” Tommy froze at the nurse’s words.

Tommy yanked his arm away from the nurse’s grasp and held it close to his chest. “I said no,” he growled through barred teeth. He felt his heart beating rapidly. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?

The nurse’s eyes widened; she nodded and hurried out of the room. She muttered something about a therapist to Phil before she left.

Phil touched Tommy on the shoulder; he winced away. “Please…don’t touch me.” he wheezed. Tommy curled his knees closed to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs. Every breath felt laborious, his chest heaving with every one. He tried the breathing technique Wilbur had taught him, but that only made him feel worse. He could swear that he felt soreness in his arm where Punz had injected him. Phil was saying something to him, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Tommy heard footsteps in the room. He could make out someone in a red and yellow mask crouched next to him. “Tommy? I’m Dr. Ponk, I’m the on-call therapist here.” Tommy felt his shoulders tense. “I heard you were having some anxiety about getting your blood drawn.” Tommy nodded stiffly. 

“Can I touch you, Tommy?” He shook his head. “Alright, can you look at me then?” He shook his head again. “Tommy, I need you to look at me, please.” Hesitantly, he lifted his head. The corner of the therapist’s eyes turned upward. “Good! Now listen to me Tommy, I’m going to need you to take some deep breaths for me. In through your nose, hold for a few seconds, out through your mouth.”

Tommy shook his head. “No, that only makes things worse,” he muttered. His chest hurt so bad.

Ponk nodded. “I know it feels that way, but trust me, this works. I’ll do them with you if it makes you feel better.” Tommy nodded. “Okay, deep breath in.” He inhaled; his shoulders relaxed. “And out.” He exhaled, some of the tightness in his chest loosening. “And we’ll keep doing that until you feel better.” 

Tommy did the breathing exercise with Ponk countless amounts of times. He did have to admit, it was making him feel better. His muscles relaxed, his chest no longer felt like a tight band was squeezing it, and his heart had finally slowed down to a normal beat. Tommy swallowed. “I’m feeling better.”

“That’s good!” Ponk said. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. “Now, can you tell me why you’re scared to get your blood drawn?”

Tommy nodded. “It’s the needle that I’m scared of.” He took a few breaths. “Back when I was in…in that room, they’d give me shots of something that would knock me out.”

Ponk grimly nodded. “I see.” He wrote something down in the notebook. “You know they’re not injecting you with anything, right? They’re just going to take a little blood, that’s all.”

“I know.” Tommy unfurled himself. “I think I’m ready now. Bring the nurse back in.” Ponk stood and left the room.

The nurse entered the room again. “Alright, you ready to try again?” she asked, a gentle smile on her face. Tommy nodded, his heart starting to beat faster again. He grabbed Phil’s hand, his grip probably hurting his father. “Sweetie, it’s better if you look away from this,” the nurse told him. Tommy turned his head to Phil; he swore he could feel his body shaking.

Tommy whimpered as he felt the needle enter his arm. As much as he wanted to jerk his arm away, he knew that was foolish. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against his father. Phil took his free hand and ran his fingers through Tommy’s blonde curls. “You’re doing great, mate. Just hold on for a little bit longer.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. “I’m scared to get my blood drawn. I’m pathetic.”

Phil quietly shushed him. “You’re not pathetic, Tommy. You’ve been through a lot.”

He felt the needle slip out of his arm. The nurse placed a bandage in the crook of Tommy’s elbow. “There we go, you did so well!” She turned to Phil. “Dr. Ponk is outside. He said he wants to speak to you.” Nodding, Phil followed the nurse outside the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Tommy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt happy to have that done; it meant he was one step closer to getting home. What could Phil and the therapist be talking about? Was he going to have to stay a bit longer?

Phil re-entered the room, a few papers and some pamphlets in his hand. He sat down, a serious expression on his face. “Dr. Ponk and I were talking, and I think it would be good for you to start seeing a therapist.” He placed the pamphlets down on the bed. “You don’t have to pick one from these, but this is a good start.” He paused as Tommy flipped through the pamphlets. “If it makes you feel any better, Techno is going to one too.” 

Tommy nodded. “Okay,” he mumbled. He picked up a pamphlet. A woman was on the front cover, a gentle smile on her face. Her white curls made her hair look like a cloud. According to the pamphlet, her name was Dr. Cara Puffy. He placed his finger on the photo. “Would you mind if we started with her?”

Phil smiled. “Of course.” He gently took Tommy’s hand in his. “Things are going to get better, I promise.” 

Tommy sure hoped it did.

-0-

“...I’ll survive until then. After all, I am your son.” Techno closed the book, leaning back in his chair. Tommy was laying in his bed, his eyes closed. But Techno knew that he was still awake; his eyelids were fluttering. “Hey, did you like the book?” he asked.

Tommy smiled, cracking an eye open. “I liked it; it was pretty good,” he mumbled. “One question though…”

Techno took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah?” he asked.

“If you were at Camp Half-Blood, what cabin would you be in?”

“Easy, I’d be Athena. What do you think you’d be?”

Tommy sat up from his bed, a huge grin across his face. “I’d be Zeus, without a doubt!”

Techno shook his head. “Nah.”

“Nah? What do you mean, nah?”

“I think you’re more of an Apollo kid.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “But that’s Wilbur’s cabin!”

“Someone call my name?” Techno whipped his head around to see his twin leaning against the doorway. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Tommy groaned in complaint. “Wilbur, can’t I come watch you?”

Wilbur shook his head. “Nope,” he said, emphasizing the p . “Dad says you have to wait until you’re eighteen to join us.”

Tommy crossed his arms and pouted, looking far younger than the sixteen-year-old he was. “Fine,” he muttered.

Techno chuckled and stood from the end of the bed. “Don’t worry, that’s only a few years out.” He turned the light off. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

Wilbur smiled. “Didn’t think that Tommy would be so excited about all this. Especially after all that happened.”

“Yeah, me neither.” It had only been a month since Tommy’s kidnapping and his getting outed as The Blood God to the entire Manberg police force. But other than that, his identity had remained hidden. Tommy still woke up often from nightmares, but he had his family there to help him calm down from those.

Techno had been going to therapy for a month now, and it was pretty nice. Her name was Puffy, the same woman that Tommy was seeing. They were just starting with the basics, like his family history and his home life. He didn’t really have friends at college, so having someone to talk to about this type of stuff was nice.

Techno slipped on his hoodie and goggles for the first time in a month. It felt natural, like sliding into something specially made for him. “Alright, got anything yet?”

Wilbur was staring at his laptop screen. “Uh, yeah; robbery at the flower shop on 25th.” He turned to Techno, a smirk on his lips. “You sure you can do this one, Big Man? Or do you need a warmup?”

“Hey, I’ll be fine. If anything happens, I’ve got that emergency button Quackity gave me?”

“...Okay. Just be careful.”

Techno smiled under his mask. “Careful is my middle name.” 

With that, he slipped out the window and into the cool night air.