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For all his intelligence and experience and leadership as president of L’manburg, leader of Pogtopia, Technoblade truly believes his twin brother is an idiot.
Wilbur Soot, this stubborn soldier with a sharp wit and even sharper words, is an absolute fool. His fool, no doubt, but still a fool. Techno doesn’t get why he doesn’t see the bigger picture. Wil doesn’t see the devotion his people give him, the trust they put in his hands for the efforts he’s made.
Wil thinks himself a coward, and yet his people consider him brave. For making this rebellion, for leading it in the first place, for protecting it-- how can he not be brave for that? How can he not see it?
Wil thinks himself as a failure. Even now, even with victory in their palms, their leader safe, their country regained, not a single life lost-- he sees it all as a defeat. He looks upon it all with a bitter taste in his tongue, because he’s still breathing at the end of it, and that wasn’t the plan.
Techno hates it. Loathes it.
He can hear the stray thoughts in his brother’s head, as clear as day. He’s never been too good about hiding them, not ever since Techno first got here. He can feel the dread in Wilbur’s heart, the crawling desperation trying to dig into his skin. There’s a bone-deep guilt sewn into his twin’s very being, and the presence of it makes Techno’s throat go tight.
He wonders how Wilbur can even bear it, when those emotions are his own, straight from his mind. He wonders if the two of them bearing it together will let them continue surviving forevermore.
Wilbur blames himself for not checking the sabotaged button sooner. He blames himself for not running farther, running faster. He blames himself for letting Tommy find him, blames himself for not acting when he had the chance. He’s shameful and guilty. He’s a tired leader who’s found his limit.
He’s Techno’s brother, and he’s so insufferably stupid.
Wil is perfectly still in Techno’s arms, exhausted from adrenaline having come and gone too quickly. His head rests at Technoblade’s shoulder, eyes kept shut. His legs are tucked up against his side, his knees grazing against Techno’s hip, and he nearly seems asleep.
Technoblade presses his nose to the top of Wil’s head, wanting for that to be the truth. At least then, that would make Wil’s mind blank. That would give him some sort of proper rest.
‘You’re alright.’ Techno sends through, over and over without a single pause. He sends his concern, sends his love. He can’t quite make Wilbur completely understand why his thoughts of failure are so wrong , but he can at least try to make him feel soothed, just for this moment. ‘You’re okay. It’s okay.'
Wilbur takes it in, but doesn’t respond. He pushes his face into Techno’s neck, holds his breath with a stubborn distrust clinging to his heart. Despite it all, he believes himself to be the problem. Wilbur blames himself for the bad, and thinks Techno to be a liar.
It’s almost insulting. Technoblade wants to hold him by the face and force him to look into his eyes, to see that he is telling the truth. He wants to repeat reassurance into their heads until it’s all they can think. He wants to, somehow, take the part of Wilbur that betrays himself, and tear it out from his mind, root and stem, so his brother may finally breathe easy.
He does none of this. He stays comforting Wilbur with gentle words pushed through his skull, and he waits here on the stone floor, listening out for any more company.
Tommy stands in front of them, hovering close, never staying still. He paces and taps his foot and fiddles with his communicator in hand, watching the screen closely, typing away replies when needed. He glances up every few seconds, like he needs to keep watch, needs to guard them both. If Techno is protecting Wil at this moment, holding him in place so he won’t get hurt, then Tommy is protecting Techno, so that no one will dare bother him with his mission.
He glances down at Wilbur every few seconds, too, face scrunched up in worry, a frown trying to pull at his lips. Sometimes, his hand sways at his side, almost as if he means to reach out to his brother, but he always pulls back. He trusts Techno to have Wilbur be kept safe. Technoblade won’t ever be able to put his appreciation for that into words.
The ravine around them is silent. As such, it’s easy to hear even the slightest noise.
Both Techno and Tommy can hear Wilbur’s silent sobs, muffled against Techno’s neck. They both ignore it, not because they don’t care, but because they care so much that they don’t want Wilbur to be embarrassed.
Their brother is vulnerable, at this moment. He is an open wound, an exposed nerve. His show of confidence, his mask of stern, strong leadership, is cracked apart and shattered at his feet.
They’ll be damned if they ever let anyone hurt him in this sort of state. Even themselves.
The single caw of a crow echoes out over their heads. Tommy tilts his chin back, scanning over the stone ledges, and he sees two birds hopping around, before then perching and looking curiously below.
“Hope they don’t get stuck in here.” Tommy mumbles, a weak attempt at a joke. “I don’t want to try shooing birds out with a stick.”
Technoblade huffs, his cheek resting against Wilbur’s curls as he looks up. He stares at the crows with hope, and watches as two more join the ones there. They fly around, find a spot on a ledge. They settle, and stay silent, as if knowing that it’d be best to not bother the company underneath them.
“They really better not get stuck.” Tommy adds on, as three more fly in.
They come in intervals, in pairs, in threes. They fly around, find a perch, then settle. The flapping of their wings is the only sound they give upon entering the ravine. Techno watches them all with unyielding stare. It could almost be a warning, to all of them.
It’s not long before the stone cliffs above his head are lined with multiple crows, all staring down at the three of them. Techno can feel a deep dread rise up at the back of his mind, and he rubs at Wilbur’s spine, trying to wash it away from them both.
‘They won’t do anything.’ He tells Wil, and Wilbur curls up more than he already is, trying to let Techno’s arms hide him.
Techno knows he’s not scared of what the crows might do. He’s scared of what they mean. Of who they’ll bring.
Tommy clicks his tongue up at the crowd of birds, eyes bright at the familiar sight of them. He gets mimicking clicks in response, the crows trying their best to amuse him. They succeed, because Tommy smiles, giving a light laugh. He missed them. Techno doesn’t need to share emotions with him to know that.
A scattering of clicks echoes across the ravine for a good minute, before suddenly going silent. Tommy turns his head to the stairs of the ravine, and Techno tries to push hope into Wilbur’s head.
With the sound of quick footsteps, Wilbur can only offer fear in return. There is shame and dread rising up his throat, buzzing across his skin, and Technoblade looks away from the stairs so that he can turn his face towards Wil and whisper reassurance in his ears, in his mind.
“Boys?” A voice calls out. Tommy lifts his chin with a wavering look of strength, and Wilbur freezes up entirely with sharp intake of air.
‘Don’t let him see me.’ He speaks to Techno at last, and every thought of his is laced with terror, the start of pure panic at having this turn out for the worst. ‘Techno, don’t let him see me-’
“Dad!” Tommy yells back, running to the base of the stairs. “We’re down here, we’re over here! Wil’s here!”
‘Techno, please.’ Wilbur pleads, trembling against Techno’s hold. He tries to pull away for a second, and he gives up on the first attempt. He doesn’t have the energy for another escape. He’s been running the whole night. ‘He can’t see me like this.’
‘Why not?’ Techno only asks in return. He can feel bitter frustration bubble up from Wilbur at such a response. He smooths it over with a kind hand, his thoughts warm, determined. ‘He’s not going to judge you harshly for what’s happened.’
‘Bullshit.’ Wilbur’s head simmers with nasty sort of self-hatred, a frustration for anything and everything he wasn’t able to push himself to do.
Technoblade responds with a frustration of his own, but it is not to Wil. Not directly, at least. ‘He won’t. You are not weak.’
Wil scoffs against his skin. ‘I’m sitting here restrained on the stone floor.’
‘I’m not restraining you, I’m holding you.’ Techno presses his lips to Wilbur’s head, trying his best to communicate how badly he wants for Wil to feel safe at this moment, to feel alright. He thinks it somewhat gets through, judging by the stunned reaction on Wilbur’s shoulders. ‘There’s a difference.’
“Wilbur?!” Phil calls from down the ravine. Wilbur flinches away from the voice, panic climbing up so quickly that it’s a little hard for Techno to push it back down.
“WIL!” Phil screams, and his steps grow faster when he spots both Techno and Wilbur on the ground. He breaks out into a full run, Tommy right at his heels, and when he reaches where they are, he collapses onto the floor in front of them, uncaring of how harshly the stone will hit his knees.
His shaking hands reach out towards Wil’s coat, brushing at Techno’s arms, grazing over Wil’s knee. It’s like he wants to hold them both, but can’t dare let himself do it. Maybe he’s scared of squeezing too hard and having one of them break for good.
“Oh, gods.” He breathes out, as if he’s about to begin praying to the beings that live in his own world, ask them for his children’s safety. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
Techno can feel the unease choking Wilbur by the throat. Wil can’t bear to look at Phil, lest it ends with him in tears all over again, so Techno takes the burden for them both, and carries their father’s attention.
“He’s okay.” Technoblade says aloud, and Phil looks up, eyes seeming impossibly sad with relief sitting under. There’s so much worry curled up in his gaze, it could almost be crushing. No wonder Wilbur can’t manage to look at him. Techno himself wants to cry to his father, as if he’s a stumbling, injury-prone child all over again.
“Tommy called me over in time.” Techno goes on. “I was able to get him before-” And he glances behind him, at the humming nether portal that sits at the end of the ravine.
Phil looks over Techno’s shoulder, and he narrows his eyes towards the portal, concern written all over his expression along with a small trace of hot anger.
The anger is not for Wil. It’s for the portal, funnily enough, for the fact that the doorway was right there, so close to letting Wilbur slip away from them all. He’s angry at the circumstances, at the situation, even if it couldn’t have been changed in time to make much of a difference.
A few crows fly down from their spot on the stone ledges above. They peck at the obsidian of the portal with annoyance. Phil’s lips almost twitch up into a smile, and he turns his eyes back onto Wil, the fatherly worry back in full-force.
“Wilbur?” He whispers, moving his hand away from Techno’s arm, and instead pressing his fingertips at Wil’s side, like he needs to truly reassure himself that his son is there, alive and well. “Wil?” He leans forward, his other hand trying to gently nudge Wilbur away from where he’s hiding against Techno’s neck.
Technoblade feels a sudden stab of fear in his heart, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s just Wil’s. He jerks back from Phil’s hands, squeezing Wilbur closer in his arms, almost like he’s scared that Phil was going to try and tear him away. Wilbur’s legs kick out at the sudden tight hold, his boots skidding across stone.
Phil leans away, raising his palms up as if in surrender.
“Techno.” Phil says, and he must see a sort of panic in Techno’s eyes, because he speaks softly, carefully.
Technoblade isn’t sure if he is panicking. He’s just- focused, for the most part. Wilbur’s so scared, so incredibly scared, and Techno keeps trying to share reassurance, keeps trying to calm it down with the unwavering, honest concern he holds.
He wants Wilbur to be okay. He wants him to be safe.
He-
He wants him to stay.
(If Wilbur had been anxious throughout the entire time he was running, then Techno was terrified while trying to search for him. He knew he had taken care of the button, he had eliminated that option, but what was to say that Wilbur wouldn’t go for any others? What was to say that Wilbur wasn’t only moments away from death, and Techno couldn’t do a thing about it?
Technoblade is relieved now, for he has his brother in his arms, but that terror lingers. Phil would never mean any harm, he knows that, but every single voice in Techno’s head is demanding to keep Wilbur safe.
And right now, safe means being kept in Techno’s hold. Being kept in reach.)
Wilbur gives a noise of discomfort, trying to loosen Techno’s grip so that he’d be able to at least move a little. Technoblade doesn’t give an inch, but he does lift one of his hands to the back of Wilbur’s head, sifting his fingers through brown curls. Wilbur calms a little at the gesture.
‘You’re smothering me.’ Wil thinks, and it could be a tease, but it’s also a touch true. Technoblade digs his fingers into Wilbur’s scalp. ‘Techno, you’re smothering me.’
“Easy, Techno. Breathe.” Phil lays his hands down on the floor, palms pressed to the cool stone. Techno stares at the gesture with wide eyes, his lungs feeling too unsettled in his chest.
Techno knows the movement is meant to be a way to show that Phil isn’t planning to do anything. He knows that he will not make an attack, that’s a ridiculous notion.
Regardless, his heart doesn’t calm. He can’t make it calm.
This panic isn’t just Wilbur’s.
“He’s alright. You’re both alright. I’m not taking him.” Phil says, almost whispering with how quiet his words are. “No one is taking him.”
“I know.” Technoblade nods, and it’s a short, hesitant thing. “I know, I just-” Techno wants to defend himself, wants to explain, but he isn’t sure how to put it into words. He doesn’t know how someone could ever describe such a feeling of protectiveness, a need to hold onto Wil and never let go, lest he ends up losing his brother entirely. He wants to dig his fingers into Wilbur’s shirt until the fabric becomes tangled in his hands. He wants to curl over him and block the entire world out, Phil and Tommy and all, so it won’t hurt him anymore. He wants to curse himself to be stuck at Wilbur’s side, forever a threatening presence to keep dangers away.
Wilbur gives a short sound of pain with another kick against stone. Techno’s holding on too tight, and it’s making it hard to take in a full breath. He says as such to Techno’s head, and Techno readjusts his grip, closes his eyes, then sends his reassurances all over again, trying to make Wil’s painful thoughts go away, trying to make it bearable. Wilbur takes hold of one of Techno’s arms, and squeezes so tightly it may leave a bruise.
‘Too much.’ He warns, and Techno doesn’t care. ‘Technoblade, too much-’
Wasn’t it too much for Techno when Wilbur ran, leaving him to panic and worry and fall apart? Wasn’t it too much for Techno when Wilbur planned to die, to leave him behind, to sever this connection of theirs forever? Technoblade tries to make Wilbur see, tries to tear that blindness away from his eyes so he can fucking comprehend how much he means to him.
He tries to share every piece of sympathy, every ounce of worry, every single bit of desperation he felt when he thought he was going to be left alone for good.
‘Techno.’ Wilbur tries to communicate something between them both, maybe a sort of an apology, maybe an attempt at compromise, but it fades off quickly. Wilbur becomes overwhelmed, and his thoughts of failure, for once, are entirely drowned out.
Wil’s eyes drift shut, and he goes still, limbs slack, head slumping against Techno, almost as if he’s fallen asleep.
His mind is blissfully quiet at last, not a single harsh thought to be heard. Techno rests his forehead to Wil’s, and has a moment of wonder on if he actually just knocked Wilbur out with their bond. He loosens his hold. Not enough to let go, just enough to be more careful. A touch of guilt sticks to him, but there’s relief to be had with it. At least now, Wil can rest, until things are more steady.
“Techno.”
Technoblade lifts his head up slowly, seeing Phil still knelt down in front of him, Tommy standing behind with his communicator clutched to his heart. He looks scared. Phil looks worried.
“He…passed out.” Technoblade chokes out, and without warning, he feels a something wet run down his cheek. He blinks. The world is blurry. “He-” And Techno breathes in too sharply, like he’s in pain.
Tommy jerks away, turning his back with a hand over his mouth. His shoulders shake.
Phil lifts his hands from the stone, reaching out with a carefully firm tone. “Can I touch you?” He asks, still wary, still considerate. “I won’t take him from you. I just-”
Techno nods, quick and frantic, and Phil comes closer, lifting his head up and holding his calloused palms to Techno’s face. He presses his forehead to Techno’s, wiping at his tears, and Technoblade cries into his hands.
“Oh, my son.” Phil breathes out. He may be crying with him. He moves down to Wilbur, holding his forehead against his as well, cradling his palm to his cheek. “My poor, sweet sons.”
“I was going to lose him.” Technoblade croaks out, needing to defend himself, needing to take that panic whole. If he doesn’t, it’ll envelop him entirely when he’s not looking. “I was going to lose him, I was going to lose him-”
“No, no, shh.” Phil hushes him. “He’s right here. Nothing happened, you have him right here.”
“He tried to-”
“I know. I know.” Phil lowers Techno’s head and presses a kiss to his hairline, wanting to release that fear in his eyes.
How he wishes he could just take his children back home, let them stay safe and happy in a land they once knew. But this land that they’ve made holds weight, holds meaning. If he is to take his sons back, he needs to tie up every loose end. Pack up every frail effort. How crushing would it be, for Wilbur to be taken home, and have all of this, this rebellion of his, this war, be for nothing?
“It didn’t happen.” Phil reassures. “He’s safe, he’s alive-- It didn’t happen. He’s right here.”
Techno fumbles to hold onto Wilbur’s wrist, to take his veins against his fingertips so he can have an ever sure way of knowing he’s not dead. His heartbeat stays steady to Techno, and Techno’s heart beats with it.
Tommy sniffs from where he stands, still standing faced away, hands scrubbing furiously at his eyes. Phil turns and takes one look at him, then gives a fond sigh. He presses a kiss to Wilbur’s sleeping head, then stands to his feet to approach Tommy and pull him into a tight hug. Tommy leans into him with angry, furrowed eyebrows, nose scrunched up, lips twisted in a scowl. It’s like he’s furious for having his brothers ever be hurt in such a way. It’s like he’s already planning revenge towards any small factor that caused it.
“It’s been a long night for you all.” Phil murmurs to Tommy’s head, and Tommy closes his eyes, silently agreeing while tucked away in his father’s arms. “We should rest.”
Tommy’s communicator buzzes right there and then, perfect timing. He steps back from Phil, Phil keeping an arm over his shoulder, and he looks at his screen while wiping his wrist across his nose.
“Tubbo says they’ve set up camp back in l’manburg.” Tommy says, reading straight from his screen. He looks at Phil, then glances at Techno, then looks at Phil. “Do we… go?”
Phil looks around. He takes in the ravine, Pogtopia, their saving grace during the rebellion. Too many memories sit in these walls. He can practically see all its history drawn up against the stone, nights with Wilbur sleeping fitfully, hours with Techno pacing and working, too-early mornings with Tommy sitting alone within the silence of it all.
“I don’t think here is the best place to stay.” Phil decides. “And it’d be better if we had more people to protect us while resting up.” He looks to Techno. “What do you think, mate?”
Technoblade lifts his attention from Wilbur, nearly surprised at the fact he’s getting a say. He more of just assumed Phil would take the reins from here on. Why wouldn’t he? They’ve all been doing so much for so long.
He gives a light shrug, and Phil takes that gesture with all the thoughts that come with it. He smiles, then lowers his eyes to Wilbur.
“You got him?” Phil asks, tilting his head to the side, holding Tommy a bit closer. He offers a small smile, something kind and fond. Encouraging.
Technoblade falters. “Yeah, I-” He nods, pulling Wilbur closer, and pushing himself to stand. A coil of stress unwinds in his chest, with Wil carried in his arms. “I got him.”
“Then let’s not waste time. Tommy, send a message that we’ll be going over there.” Phil says, and Tommy does just that, typing away at his communicator as he’s nudged towards the direction of the stairs.
Phil waits to the side for Techno to walk past, and he stays behind him as they move through the ravine. The crows above shuffle with their movement, making clicking noises as an attempt to help their mood, and Techno doesn’t even glance up at them. He just holds Wilbur a little closer, heart a bit frail, his soul a little too scared, for tonight.
‘I love you.’ He tells Wil. He can’t answer right now, but Techno knows what his response would be anyway.