Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wilbur always explained how music was pretty. No one believed him.

When they heard music, they flinched, they whined, they placed their hands over their ears and begged for the sound to stop. But if that was the case for everyone, why when Wilbur heard it did he hear the beauty in it? 

He heard music and was reminded of the plants that stood tall around them, of the flowers that grew from beneath his feet, of the smell that reminded him so much of his favourite childhood dinner, a fond memory linked to that sweet smell that was brought to life at the sound of plucking strings. Music was gorgeous, but it seemed not many people agreed.

From his planet, only a handful of people heard the same things he did. And whenever he found one, he headed straight for them, listening for hours, days, years if he had the chance. All instruments were home-made, they’d created them using the purple tinted wood that stood so tall around them, or the jelly at the bottom of lakes that hardened when lifted out of the liquid. 

With just their minds, they created these music makers, playing them for anyone willing to listen.

Wilbur was always willing to listen.

He was also willing to take the instrument someone made for him, a curved shape with strings pulled tight across the body, and with a single pluck it could play a single note, if you pressed your hand somewhere on the neck, the sound would change.

It took them a few days to think of a name, going back and forth, but none ever seemed to fit.

“What about a shrain?” They asked, leaning back as they looked at it, Wilbur moving a hand over the hole in the middle and loving the sound that came out.

“No that sounds like a murder weapon,” he muttered back, messing his brown hair around his spikes that sat on his head, accidentally hiding them. It was getting a bit long, he should probably cut it. “What about a soot?” Wilbur asked, but as he said it it didn’t seem to fit either.

The other person shrugged, fiddling with something in their hands, humming in thought. They stayed like that for a moment, Wilbur creating different sounds as the other creator moved a glass stick around in their hand. And then.

Wilbur flinched at the sudden sound, it was a loud bang on wood, and he glanced at the person in front of him, whose fist was tight on the floor beneath them both, a smile on their face.

“A guitar.” They said, and Wilbur smiled too.

———

“Leave that behind,” Wilbur’s dad snapped, pointing at the guitar on his back. Damn it , he thought, hand on the door to leave. He’d almost escaped without a word.

“I’m not gonna do anything with it,” he tried, but the man gave him a pointed look. It was one Wilbur had grown used to in the past few weeks, only having known him that long – the fact he was still 16 and couldn’t afford to move out meant someone had to look after him, so the control agency dropped him at this random house.

Hesitantly, he slips it off his back, placing it in the living room before leaving, not bothering to say goodbye.

Because today he’s on a mission.

Silence met Wilbur as he made his way outside, breathing in the fresh air as he looked to the sky, a soft purple meeting him. It brings an easy smile to his face, driving his legs to move faster. Soon enough, he found himself knocking on a door, listening as someone moved around inside, taking a moment to unlock it before opening the door.

There stood a shorter man than Wil, black hair messed up under a beanie, scar down the left side of his face, eyes sharp. He had similar wings to Wilbur, in the same place on his back facing the floor, but they were an impressive gold, unlike the light brown of his own feathers.

“Can I help you?” He asks, and Wilbur nodded immediately.

“Yes, I would like to catch a flight.” He said simply, already digging in his pockets to find the money he’d put there earlier (admittedly, it wasn’t his own, he’d taken it from his dad’s wallet in hopes he wouldn’t notice). “I don’t know where to, I don’t know much about planets past our universe, but somewhere with music-“

“Music?!” The man yelled, already going to slam the door, but Wilbur pushed it back open, meeting his eyes carefully. But he was angry, flames flickering in his dark brown eyes, wings twitching as his knuckles turned white. “You’re insane.”

“Lemonberg has run out of music, and maybe i’m insane for enjoying it, but you of all people Mr Quackity should be able to send me somewhere with more.” He tried, and Quackity may have hesitated this time on slamming the door, thinking about the words more. 

“Music hurts, why would you want to be in pain?” He asked, tone selling out his curiosity. And Wilbur smiled, not holding it back. Because they were finally getting somewhere.

“Music doesn’t hurt, it heals,” he explained, smiling as he let his stressed wings rest, “Most find discomfort in melodies, but I find deep-rooted beauty.”

He let the fact the music felt stolen go unsaid.

Maybe that’s why people hated it, the guilt that came with it so loud it ruined the sweet sounds. Music felt like it wasn’t made on their planet, as if it had been taken and shoved under a jacket. It didn’t feel like they had a right to it, too kind for Lemonburg to listen to and enjoy.

But, he left that part unsaid.

Quackity considered him, looking him up and down, taking in his appearance. It wasn’t much, a yellow jumper, black trousers and boots that left deep dents in the golden dirt beneath their feet.

In fact, he looked like any other citizen, likely because he was .

But he saw the desperation, nodding.

Wilbur’s excitement was unexplainable, and they skipped out to get on board.

———

The feeling of stepping onto a ship was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t nearly as thrilling as music, strumming the strings on his guitar, or listening to the chime of metal on metal. It wasn’t as boring as rushing water, the sound familiar, but dull.

No, it sent a chill down Wilbur’s spine as if he was scared, but he knew that wasn’t it, so it had to be excitement.

Excitement for driving something new.

Excitement for exploring the beyond.

Excitement for hearing something new, something sweet, something kind.

Music.

He smiled just at the thought of it.

“You remember every step to turn it on and off?” Quackity checked, he wasn’t up for having wasted an entire day teaching an amateur how to drive an explorer.

“Yes.” He replied with a smile, brushing his brown hair out of his face, revealing the spikes on his head for a moment before they disappeared once more. Wilbur had been too excited to not listen, to take every tip Quackity gave. The faster he learned, the faster he could leave.

And that sounded like a present too nice to miss.

“And you know what to do in an emergency?” He asked, taking a step down back onto solid ground.

“Yes, conduct an emergency landing on a nearby hospitable planet, press the emergency button and wait for support.” He returned, hoping the explanation would be good enough to convince him. It seemed to work, Quackity taking a step back.

“Take care out there, alright?” Quackity told him hesitantly, and the tiny hint of care made Wilbur smile more, nodding. 

“I won’t be anything other than careful,” that was a lie, he could think of several other things he’s going to be. Excited, curious, maybe a tad reckless and possibly a tad stupid. But he’d simply blame it on himself, maybe write a note to make sure they didn’t sue the owner of the explorer. That was the last thing he wanted, for Quackity to be reprimanded for his own stupidity.

And with a nod, Quackity hesitantly left to stand in the box.

Wilbur shut the door behind him, watching the room become dim, lit only by the screen that held the map, and the lights beneath the buttons meant to drive the thing. It wasn’t the biggest room, but he didn’t expect it to be, so he sighed with content before taking his seat at the control panel, running his hands over the buttons.

There it was again, that feeling; the dread, a familiar nervousness thrumming through him, not stopping him from wanting to jump and squeal and laugh.

But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared.

Wilbur didn’t take time to think again, taking a hold of the lever and tugging it towards him, pressing the button for the thrusters and the button to detach the metal holding it up. Then, he put on the lights, finally being able to see something in the darkness in front of him. Then, he pressed the lever forward once more, feeling the ship shake beneath him. 

After a moment, he spared a glance to the box outside, seeing Quackity watching, a hand pressed over his chest. It was a universal sign of luck, some even called it a blessing, claiming if someone gave them luck before leaving to their inevitable death, they wouldn’t die. And they didn’t, they lived.

Some said it was because of the blessing.

Others said it was the pure determination, the placebo effect kicking into action, believing they could live because they were gifted it.

Wilbur believed the former. Magic wasn’t exactly extinct.

The ship lifted off the ground, pulling its mechanical legs into the bottom of it, before slowly lifting to the sky.

And it was off, Wilbur’s ears popped before he had the chance to cover them, wings worriedly flapping behind him as his spikes grew sharper, eyes squeezed shut. 

Wilbur passed out before he could open his eyes once more.

———

When Wilbur woke up, it was silent.

For a moment, he thought he was dead, immediately opening his eyes to see- the ship, unchanged from when he’d last seen it; except this time, the view out of the window was a pretty purple, stars dotted across the sky as galaxies were more visible than they were on land. It was gorgeous, and Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock, standing and making his way to the window, looking around.

He was alone, no other life to be seen but the burning stars and planets that looked so small from where he stood.

Something about it made him want to keep looking, bask in the silence only broken by Wilbur’s breath and the quiet whirring of the heater.

It was calm in a way Wilbur had never experienced.

Sure something could go horribly wrong with the ship and he would have no way out but death, but maybe if this was the view, and he felt the same serenity, it wouldn’t be so bad.

That was the moment he heard it.

Music.

It was the most beautiful sound Wilbur had ever heard, making him rush to the control panel to slow down the vehicle immediately, leaving it floating mid-space.

His hand flicked to the volume adjuster connected to the speaker, turning it up and listening.

It was a sweet melody, and Wilbur didn’t know how to describe it; but his body felt like it was melting, eyes threatening to slip shut once more as peaceful waves washed over him.

Wilbur took a moment to listen to it, to enjoy it, to hear notes played in a way he’d never heard before, wings falling completely loose behind him as he let his head fall back.

Whoever said music was painful had never heard this.

To call this awful would be a crime against the multiverse, and that wasn’t a concept you strive to go against.

The ship was moving towards the planet his locator said it was coming from, and Wilbur dove down with a new determination in his eyes, following the sound with a smile.

———

Life was simple for Techno. 

Wake up, go to school, read a book, go home, study, practice violin, eat dinner, read a book, go to bed.

The front door shut behind him easily, and he made his way to the kitchen.

“Techno,” his Dad greeted with a smile, the boy giving him a hum as he put a piece of bread in the toaster, “What do you want for dinner?” He shrugged, getting the butter and knife out, placing them on the side before grabbing a plate, “Use your words.”

“Not sure,” he repeated, this time with words as his dad had so kindly asked, “I’m not really in the mood for anything.”

“I can order a chippy if you’d like, i’ve been fancying one all day,” the man replied with a smile he could only hear. Finally, Techno looked up, seeing him sat at the dinner table, reading glasses on the end of his nose as he scrolled on his phone. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, but the man was usually sat in the living room or his office, sitting at the table was a tad out of the ordinary for him. But he didn’t bother questioning it.

“That works for me, order in an hour or so?” Techno suggested, hearing his toast pop up and swiftly taking it out, placing it on his plate before he burned himself, buttering it was practiced ease before putting it in his mouth, placing the plate and knife in the sink and the butter back in the fridge.

“I’ll call you when it arrives.” He replied, and Techno nodded before heading upstairs.

He didn’t have anything to study today, he’d done it all at school because Tommy was in for once – and when Tommy was in, he got so much done. Did the kid chatter all the time? Yes. Was it a familiar environment for his mind to be able to be productive? Absolutely.

Tommy talked about anything and everything, and Techno hummed rarely,  a weak reply, as he studied, taking a bite of food every now and then. So, all his history work was done, maths was simple, English he was too good at, and science was irrelevant. To him anyways.

Whilst studying, he’d learned about old beliefs of other-worldly creatures, like the anhedonia, creatures from a foreign planet who despised music; it’s said that it harmed them, and on rare cases killed them. His teacher had explained them as wary, as not wanting to approach anything they didn’t know or understand. Spikes on their head almost as if an extra pair of ears, and wings behind their backs that only help them glide.

Flight was a foreign concept, one they weren’t keen to approach, so space-crafts from these creatures wasn’t likely.

Sure he’d heard of other alien species, for example the Frainers, bug-like creatures that chirped like birds, tall things with eyes only for blood.

But something about someone hating music didn’t sit right with Techno, because every time he got out his violin a rush of happiness would fall over him, a thankfulness for the serenity it brought on days where listening to Tommy’s rambling wasn’t enough to calm his nagging mind, or his Dad’s kind eyes didn’t seem to relax his shoulders as they usually would.

Violin took away the stress, the worry, the voice in his head that told him all the things he didn’t want to hear.

He made sure his too long brown hair was tied back tight enough that it wouldn’t come undone, before picking up his bow, holding it to the strings for a moment, taking a deep breath before falling into the music.

The melody was kind, sweet, and nothing but. 

He didn’t make a single mistake, hand moving swiftly and hitting every note with practiced perfection, shutting his eyes as he fell into the feel of it, body moving as the song progressed. He heard the whirring sound of metal from outside, but the thought left as almost as soon as it came, continuing the song as it got faster, and it got higher, and his hands danced as the music carried.

There was a squeak, and a gust of wind that followed, sending a chill down his spine that he ignored as he played the final notes, hearing his window shut.

Only then did he stop, opening his eyes to look at where the sound came from.

There stood a man, head cocked to the side, brown hair messed in front of his face, yellow jumper over a white shirt, trousers black and shoes similarly so. But there was something yellow peeking out through his hair, and brown wings lay behind him, feathers perfectly aligned.

Techno blinked.

The man blinked.

“I’m asleep right?” He asked, not bothering to think otherwise as the man looked at the violin in his hands carefully, eyes tracing it as if he was trying to ingrain it in his memory, as if he’d never seen something like it in his life. “Your species doesn’t exist, you’re an old myth.“

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince; no matter how many times he pinched his arm, it hurt. Every-time he blinked, the man stayed, an unwavering image despite the impossibility of it all.

Maybe it was just a cruel nightmare, he’d wake up soon.

Might as well play along.

“Play me something.” The creature asked, almost as if it was a threat, and that only confused Techno more, frowning at the other as he watched his wings twitch behind him.

“But you hate music.” He returned, tucking a stray hair behind his ear as the creature shook his head, looking around the room before leaning on the windowsill, not taking his eyes from the instrument still in Techno’s hands.

“Everyone on my planet but me and a few others,” he explained, and this only convinced Techno more it was a dream, but sadly one that was difficult to wake up from.

Did that mean he still had studying to do? It was already difficult enough in the dream-scape, not exactly something he was willing to suffer through again.

“Play something.” The creature stressed again, wings puffing up behind him as he pointed at the violin once more. Techno glanced down at it, sighing before bringing it to his shoulder once more, pressing the bow to the strings once more and playing the first thing that came to mind.

The creature watched with a careful eye; at first it was a little unsettling, to watch his eyes stare unblinking. But then he went less tense as the song progressed, shoulders slowly dropping as his wings drooped, eyes falling shut as he let his head fall forward, almost as if he was sleeping standing up.

In fact, Techno wouldn’t be surprised if that happened.

But then the song stopped, and the creature nodded, moving towards him slowly as Techno raised his eyebrow, holding his violin tighter than before. First, he heard the clatter of glass on the floor, the next his vision was dotting, and he passed out the moment he was lifted into the creature’s arms.

———

Techno groaned as he pushed his hands over his eyes, letting out a breath. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been asleep, but clearly long enough to dream an entire day and black out for a few more hours. Did he miss a day of school?

At the thought, he shot up, but he wasn’t exactly in his room, more-so a metal box with a small bed tucked into a corner. There was a strange stiffness to the air, it was too difficult to pin, so Techno got up, feet landing on a cold floor as he looked around for a door, finding one and heading straight for it.

When he opened it, he saw a larger space; there was a small kitchen in one corner, a small table with two chairs. There was a panel of some kind in the centre of the room, buttons and levers, bright lights coming from several places.

Then he looked to the window, and Techno almost passed out there and then.

Maybe he was still asleep.

Because all he could see was the dark purple night sky, but something told him he wasn’t just looking at the night sky.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” A voice called, footsteps falling quickly as Techno looked to the source, finding the creature with a smile on his face as he walked over to him. On instinct, Techno reached for the pocket knife in his pocket (his dad got it for him when he started walking home alone, their area was a bit sketchy) and held it out to him. The creature stopped in his place, holding up his hands by his head. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“You kidnapped me.” Techno scowled in return, narrowing his eyes at the creature that simply smiled.

“What else was I meant to do? Leave you there?” He laughed as if he had no other option, and that only confused Techno more.

Nope, he was still asleep.

Anhedonia don’t exist, and they hate music. Once his dad had told him how dreams worked, they took thoughts from the past three days and created this image whilst asleep, merging hundreds of thoughts including people you’ve seen and passing ideas.

It must’ve been from his studying that day, when he’d revised the anhedonia whilst Tommy talked about what countries he’d be able to invade if he was the president of L’Manberg in 1250AD. But he hadn’t exactly thought about kidnapping, not that he remembered anyways.

No, it was a dream.

“Yes?” He replied, making sure he sounded confident so the creature would get the message. But it only seemed to send him into thought, lowering his arms slightly as he looked out the window at the night around them. Techno followed his gaze, taking it in and remembering the times his dad took him stargazing, showing him the constellations that were created in their universe.

But looking at the sky now, he saw none of them.

It was a dream.

Aliens don’t exist.

But surely humans couldn’t be the only beings in existence, it wasn’t statistically possible for them to be alone in such a vast space.

Techno glanced at the pocket knife in his hand, the creature seemed to notice his gaze, hurrying towards him. “Don’t do that, you won’t be able to play!” He screamed, Techno flinched, the knife pricking his skin slightly. A hiss escaped him immediately, dropping the knife to the ground and grabbing his wrist, watching as a prickle of blood started to dribble down from his fingertip. “ Shit - I’m so sorry, that was my fault-“

The creature started to make his way over, but Techno sent him another glare, stopping once more and instead turning off to go into the kitchen whilst Techno studied the cut, pressing a finger to the wet blood on his arm.

Nope, it definitely hurt.

He wasn’t asleep, this wasn’t a dream, anhedonia exist, they-

“May I?” The creature asked, Techno looked up at him, then at the bottle of pink liquid in one hand and the cotton in the other, confusion written over his face. He caught on quickly, rushing to explain, “It’s a healing potion, and I can use the cotton to clean up the blood because it doesn’t look the best, the potion I used on you before was a splash potion of sleep, I’m sorry for kidnapping you but you’re hurt and I don’t want to be any more of a bother-“

“It’s fine, you can use it.” Techno cut him off, and the creature went silent, hair moving slightly as he looked up, revealing his yellow spikes once more. They almost seemed glittery, reflecting off the artificial golden glow on the ceiling, glistening and glowing. Techno didn’t realise the creature had started patching him up already, having placed the pocket knife on a nearby countertop and dabbed the cotton to the blood dripping down his finger.

Then, the cotton was placed aside, and the healing potion cap was being screwed off. The creature pulled his head back as a puff of glittery smoke escaped through the top that made Techno want to cough, but he held it down, squinting at it instead.

The creature looked back at him, looking at his face as if he wanted to say something, but he apparently decided against it, carefully tipping the bottle over the cut until a single droplet fell out, and he swiftly shut it again, placing it on the same counter as the used cotton before grabbing more, turning back to the healing wound and dabbing around it to make sure it was clean.

Surprise was all Techno could really say he felt when he watched it heal before his eyes, the skin sewing back together as a careful hand dabbed around it, and it was merely a white scar after only a few seconds.

He’d never seen anything like it.

So it must be a dream.

“This is such a strange dream,” he muttered quietly to himself, not entirely expecting the creature to look back up at him, even more confusion written over his face.

“This isn’t a dream.” He said, standing and picking up the cotton and bottle, throwing the cotton in a bin and placing the bottle back in the kitchen. “I sent myself on a mission to find the best music, and I found it, so we’re going home.” He continued with a smile, making his way back to Techno and holding out a hand, “I’m Wilbur.”

Oh, his history teacher would love to hear about this one.

“I’m Technoblade, you can call me Techno.” The boy returned, shaking his hand slowly and watching Wilbur’s smile grow more.

“That’s a strange name.” He returned, but not in a negative and judgmental way as it was for most people, more pure interest and intrigue. It was a strange situation overall though, so Techno wasn’t entirely surprised, “What’s your instrument called?” He asked, heading to the kitchen counter and taking the violin case into his hands, making his way back to Techno and holding it out to him, the latter taking it with a small ‘thank you’.

“It’s a violin.” He explained, clicking open the case and finding it was in fact still there and intact, but cleaner and polished.

“That’s also a strange name, mine is so much better.”

“Your name for a violin?”

“No, my name for my instrument that I made.” 

Huh, he thought Techno invented the instrument. He almost laughed at the concept, he could never take away from Andrea Amati’s amazing creating skills. “I didn’t invent it, a very talented man called Andrea Amati did around 470 years ago.” Techno swiftly explained, before realising his mistake, “Earth years, I don’t know how long a year is from wherever you're from.”

It seemed Wilbur had many questions, but too many that he knew would be too difficult to answer with his minimal knowledge, instead opting to walk to the large window once more. After a moment of thought, Techno decided to join him, standing by his side with his violin case placed under his arm.

“What’s your instrument called then?” Techno decided to ask to fill the weirdly comfortable silence, looking at space in front of him and wondering how long it would go on for. Wilbur seemed to think about the question for a minute, contemplating what he should and shouldn’t say – who knows maybe Techno would find a way to get home and steal his invention.

“A guitar.” He said eventually, and Techno glanced at him.

“But that’s already a thing.”

Wilbur looked back at him, immediately sceptic.

“Are you tricking me, Technoblade? I don’t like people who try to lie to steal ideas-“

“I’m not lying -“

“Explain the instrument then, if you’re so smart.” Wilbur challenged, immediately smiling as his brown wings puffed up behind him. But Techno smiled back, turning his body directly towards him and coughing to make sure his words wouldn’t falter.

“The body of it is about this tall,” Techno starts, gesturing to the approximate size of a guitar as Wilbur started to frown, “And the neck of it is this tall,” he makes his hands shrink only slightly, “And there are 6 strings that travel across the neck and over a hole in the body, which can be tuned by little knobs on the top of the neck.” He paused for a moment, taking in the shock on Wilbur’s face, before finishing, “And it’s usually made out of wood.”

Wilbur glanced at the floor, then back out the window.

“You cheated.”

Techno scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You just can’t admit your instrument was already made on another planet.”

“Alright dickhead ,” Techno took a deep breath in feign offence at the name, placing a hand on his chest as he ignored the static that came with the final word, “I don’t steal ideas, they stole it from me !” His pathetic attempt at convincing himself was poor, and it made Techno laugh, turning back to the window to watch shooting stars pass across the deep purple in front of them.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst dream. But he’d still been kidnapped, and Techno could hardly begin to imagine the worry his Dad had in that moment.

How long had he been out for?

It’s not like he could ask Wilbur, he assumed their concepts of time were a little different so it would be hard to fully understand. But it also didn’t seem like he would be going home any time soon, that meant no school, and he didn’t have to abandon violin because the creature seemed to love it more than Techno did, which wasn’t a common find.

Wilbur was a strange creature.

He was an anhedonia, but he enjoyed music, and he managed to have a ship, and he loved to learn new things and try new things like kidnapping , because Techno assumed he’d never done it before. Sir described the species as ‘covetous’ , explaining they took what they wanted and never thought of others.

Wilbur had done just that.

Maybe he should’ve known he was real before he was kidnapped.

Would’ve been better.

But it wasn’t like Wilbur was the worst person, just a bit stupid. And a kidnapper.

Everything would probably turn out okay.

Key word: probably .

———

The scraping sound of ceramic against ceramic filled the room, and Phil placed the plates on the counter, portioning the food evenly between the two of them before throwing the dirtied pans and cutlery in the sink. Usually, Phil would be able to hear Techno’s violin before calling him down, but the house was strangely quiet, the boy having stopped playing only twenty minutes beforehand.

It was strange. Techno always made sure he got in the most practice he could before he ate, always preached how it made him the best; but it also wasn’t impossible for him to cut practice short for other things, like calling Tommy to help him with homework, or applying for a busking permit in a new area of town.

Those times, Phil had run to his room shouting for him, demanding he shout back or open the door, because his first instinct as a father told him the boy had died or been kidnapped.

But this time, he held himself back, assuring himself it was a reason similar to the rest. That if he shouted, Techno would open the door with a frown and a raised eyebrow. So he dished up the food without worrying too much over the quiet, placing them on the table in their rightful places, before moving to the bottom of the stairs. “Tech!”

He waited for a moment, for footsteps or for the door to open, but there was nothing.

Phil was met with silence.

Pushing down the anxiety, he shouted again, “Techno! Dinner’s ready!”

And still nothing.

Only then did the man sprint up the stairs, knocking on his door.

“Techno?”

Silence.

He pushed the door open.

The sight that met him put a lump in his throat.

The window was open, his curtains moving ever so slightly with the breeze flowing through the windows. His bed wasn’t made, instead messed up as if he’d been sitting in it. The boy’s violin wasn’t on his desk as usual, but instead a folded piece of paper was left in its place, the pen that had been used was placed beside it.

Without a second thought, Phil made his way over, unfolding the paper and skimming his eyes over it.

He almost laughed.

‘Guardian of whatever his name is,

My name is Wilbur, I am from another planet not too many universes over called Lemonberg, a planet that has warped music into something painful. I went on a mission to find beauty, and I found it in this boy’s playing (I do not know what he’s playing, I’m yet to find that out, I’ll get back to you).

Sorry for taking him, I know it’s not the nicest thing someone can do, but it was too sweet to leave behind. You’ll see him soon, but I can’t tell you how soon because I don’t know how to tell you how long it will take; I've been told Earth’s timing is different to ours, but I've only had a few conversations on this strange planet.

I wish you all the best, and I hope you do not kill me when I next see you.

Till we meet, Wilbur’

It was almost ironic.

Phil wanted to sob, to scream and yell and tell everyone to search for his son. But it would be hopeless, space was too large to search, all he could do was sit and wait for him to be returned, if Wilbur wasn’t lying (but he didn’t exactly lie about kidnapping his son, so he assumed lying wasn’t Wilbur’s strong suit).

So, he got out his phone, typing in the number Techno had post-it-noted to his pc, ringing going through the silent home.

“Hello?” Tommy’s voice came through, a smile in his voice that happened to be contagious, Phil immediately smiling back as he placed the letter back where he found it, making his way out of the room.

“Hey Tommy-“

“Big man Philza!” He returned, even more excited. Some voices could be heard reprimanding him for his shouting, he shouted back a sorry before going back to Phil, “What’s up?”

“Well,” he started, not entirely sure how to go about this, “Have you eaten dinner? I have spares from the chippy.” He offered, and he heard Tommy’s gasp.

“I have eaten, but I always have room for chippy.” He replied, fast footsteps being heard before- “Miss, can I go to Techno’s for dinner?” He asked a lot more kindly than he probably meant, a mischievous lilt to his voice that the adults seemed to not realise.

“ Yes, just be back before curfew, ” they replied, and he giggled happily, not bothering to reply as he started putting his shoes on. “Be there soon.” Tommy said, not giving Phil a chance to say anything more before hanging up. The man blinked at his phone-screen, thrown off slightly with just how fast Tommy moved on, how quickly he skipped from one point to the next. It was slightly funny, and maybe a tad endearing.

Phil glanced back at Techno’s room, his smile falling slightly at the thought of it being empty.

It didn’t sound like Wilbur wanted to hurt him, more-so just listen to him play music, and he seemed nice enough to not force him to do even that. Even though Phil missed him, even though he wanted to sob and find his son no matter the costs, no matter if he died from lack of oxygen, he hoped that Techno was in good hands.

He took a breath, gathering himself as he slipped his phone into his back pocket. “Better go put those plates in the microwave.” He muttered to himself, making sure to look at the floor as he skipped down the stairs, not trusting his shaky legs to do it themselves. This would take some getting used to, but if Techno was at least safe, Phil thought he could get through it.

To see Techno again? He’d do anything.

———

“I thought space would be more interesting than this.” Techno said with a frown, pressing a hand to the glass and immediately flinching at the cold, rubbing it against his other hand in hopes it would warm up at least a little. The cold kept biting, but he hid the pain it brought with a practiced even face he used when playing, looking at Wilbur who spun on his chair at the control panel.

“Not really, we can visit planets but it’s not often there’s any life.” Wilbur explained, spinning in his chair with a bored face, “You should play more violin.”

“We agreed, Wil.” Techno reminded him, voice as apathetic as ever.

The man looked back at him, a deeper frown on his face as if he was a pouting child, and Techno had to smother the want to laugh. “Yeah, but like, i’m so fucking bored.” He spat, and when he said the last two words Techno swore he heard a crackle, eyebrows knitting in confusion as Wilbur paused, “It’s like that on Lemonberg too.”

All Techno could think of was how terrible that name was.

“Why can’t you swear?” Techno asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked back out of the window. It was enticing, the space beyond, but guilt sat in his chest for leaving his Dad without a word. Sure, Wilbur was okay, but he preferred his Dad’s company to some alien he doesn’t know anything about, and most importantly the person who kidnapped him.

“I’m not sure, when I say it I can’t hear whatever you hear, but people from my planet say it hurts, so I try not to.” He explained, but when he said it he seemed a little down, looking at his hands as he fiddled with them in his lap. But Techno stayed quiet, sending him a glance, thinking for a moment.

“And it’s the same with music?” He nodded, it was solemn and resigned. There was a hint of something there, and Techno wanted to say it was hope, but that put too much pressure on his own shoulders, so he shrugged it off with an acknowledging nod. “That must be hell.”

“For everyone else,” Wilbur tried smiling, looking up at Techno, brown eyes glistening in the golden light, “But it sounds gorgeous to me.” He announced, dramatically throwing his arms up at his sides as his smile grew brighter. In a fleeting moment, Techno had a feeling it could replace the lights on the roof. “That’s why I kidnapped you.”

“That still isn’t cool, no matter how many times you say it.”

Wilbur continued to smile, glancing back at his panel, eyes immediately going wide as his smile dropped. A red light was flashing, reflecting over Wilbur’s face to show it was clearly coming from the panel screen. Immediately, Techno made his way over, reading the flashing words on the screen. ‘Fuel level low – Emergency landing recommended’ .

“ Shit -“ Wilbur spat, flicking a few buttons as Techno threw his hands up to his ears at the loud crackle (It seemed the painful censor got worse when the emotion behind it was more intense, or that’s what Techno assumed at the very least). A question was on the tip of his tongue, several actually, but something about the anhedonia’s frantic movements told him it might not be the best time to ask, instead standing quietly behind him. “Let’s hope we don’t crash.” Wilbur said quietly as the window glowed a bright white. 

Techno passed out before he could ask.

———

A knock came at the door, and Phil immediately made his way to it, unlocking the chain and swiftly opening the door. A taller blonde boy stood in front of him, smile wide on his face as his messy hair covered his blue eyes. There was a bottle bag in his hands, and the moment the door opened his eyes widened.

“Philza!” He greeted happily, taking his hand and patting him on the back; Phil could only copy with a little confusion, “How are you big man?”

“I’m good, Tommy, I’m uh-“ he started, taking a breath to steady his smile, stepping aside, “How about you come in?”

The boy blinked, taking in the careful look on the man’s face before stepping into the house, walking into the kitchen as Phil shut the door, following shortly after. “I brought you some wine.” He commented, turning around as he placed it on the kitchen side, glancing at Phil as his smile slowly fell, “Is everything alright?”

Phil blinked back at him, taking a deep breath before picking up his oven mitts, opening the oven, “Not really, that’s why I brought you here.” He replied, placing one plate in his seat and another in the seat opposite Techno’s, the place Tommy sat in the very few times he’d come over for dinner (it was twice; the first he’d chased Floof out of the front door, the second Techno had to wash his hair seven times to get the oil out).

Tommy looked around, listened carefully, and then, “Where’s Techno?” He asked with pinched eyebrows, staring at Phil as if daring him to say the truth.

The man swallowed his anxiety, sitting down and patting the space beside him, waiting until he was sat down to speak again.

“Techno’s not here, Tommy.” Was what he said, and that only confused Tommy more because Techno was always at home. As a brave big man once so rightfully said, Techno was a home dwelling hermit, and he was basically bound to his bed and violin. Techno leaving the house, if it wasn’t for school, was like an anhedonia leaving their home planet, it would never happen (those were Techno’s words, Tommy had no clue what they were).

“What do you mean Techno’s not here ,” he laughed back, taking a chip and throwing it in his mouth. Phil just looked at his plate, before glancing up at Tommy, the boy meeting his eyes. He saw the sincerity, and he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat, it having jumped into his throat. The chip tasted sour as he swallowed it. “Where did he go?”

“To space? I don’t know!” Phil spat, running his hands through his hair as he took a breath, giving himself a mental reminder that stressing about it wouldn’t help Tommy take the news any better. “I got this letter from this alien thingy called Wilbur, he’s taken Techno-“

“ Taken Technoblade? ” Tommy shouted, standing as he furrowed his eyebrows at Phil, an angry glint in his eyes, “Your son has been abducted by aliens and you seem perfectly calm.” He pressed, slamming a fist to the table before sighing, sitting back down in his chair as he looked at his plate, a thought clearly crossing his mind that made him wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, not daring to let it fall.

“He’ll be back.” Phil tried, but Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw another chip in his mouth. The doubt on his face was clear, and honestly he didn’t blame him. “What?”

“You trust an alien who kidnapped the Technoblade to bring him back?” He asked, shoving another chip in his mouth as he stared at the other, an accusatory lilt to his tone, “He’s too awesome.”

Now that is something they could agree on.

Technoblade, of all people, was the best. Statistically and also by anyone who knew him, both could vouch for the man’s impassableness. With his tolerance, to his intelligence, to his violin abilities, people far and extremely wide (including multi universal apparently) could say Technoblade was one of the best humans to walk the Earth.

And now also venture space.

Yeah, Techno was too awesome.

But Phil knew better. He may not be as incredible as Techno, but he did have amazing knowledge of the human brain; he’d never gotten a job in psychology, but at this point he wondered if he should’ve, because when he read the letter all he could think of was how utterly lonely Wilbur was. Wilbur had no family, or at least it seemed not one that cared about him, because if he had he wouldn’t have gone across the universe to kidnap someone.

Alien or not, no parent in their right mind would let that happen.

“You’ll meet Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno will come back-“

“But how can you be sure ?”

“Because I'm Philza Minecraft.” Was what he said, a tactical response that immediately made Tommy sink further into his chair, shoving another chip into his mouth as he glared, “Do you trust me, Tommy?”

He kept a stern face, slowly picking up another chip from his plate as he swallowed the others. And then, he nodded, it was slow and slightly cautious, but Tommy knew that if Phil believed something it was probably correct. There were several past  times to prove it.

“Great, now I’m going to call the orphanage and say you’ll be staying with me for a few nights, they know I have Tech so it should be fine for a few nights, you can sleep in the guest bedroom.” And Phil stood, leaving his plate on the table and leaving the room.

He couldn’t eat that night, if he did he would probably throw it up.

Anxiety was a habit he wasn’t exactly pleased about, and sadly the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Phil could only imagine the fear his son was feeling, and could only hope he would be home soon.

———

Techno woke up to the crackling of a fire.

He hoped that he’d been taken on a camping trip by his Dad, that’s why he was having such a weird dream because he was in the car (on the way to a holiday home one evening he’d dreamt he was farming potatoes for days, doing nothing but farming potatoes day and night. It was really trippy and messed up his sense of time for a few days). But it seemed that wasn’t the case, because when he opened his eyes he was met with purple flames on a pile of what looked to be pink plants, though Techno wasn’t entirely sure what. The boy could make out a person behind the flames, poking at the ground with something similar to a stick.

“Wil?” He called out, sitting up as Wilbur looked back at him, a smile growing on his face as Techno took in their surroundings.

It was a mostly barren land; on one side of the fire it was ground that resembled dried dirt, sun burnt bushes scarcely scattered across it. On the other side were tall tree-like things, looming over them as they swayed in the very light breeze, almost as if they weighed nothing. It was a large forest, so thick Techno could hardly see through the first couple trees.

They weren’t on earth, that’s for sure, but there weren’t any other species around from the looks of it.

Apart from Wilbur.

“You passed out when we came through the atmosphere of this planet,” Wilbur explained, continuing to poke the stick into the dirt absentmindedly, “I assume it’s a human thing.”

Cocking his head, Techno continued to stare, studying the yellow spikes ever so slightly poking out over Wilbur’s messy brown mop of a hairstyle, brown wings resting on the floor behind him. The man seemed calm, but there was something to the creases on his forehead that told Technoblade that there was more than meets the eye.

“What are you?” Techno asked before he could stop himself, noticing Wilbur pause his stick poking to glance at him, up at his hair, then back at the ground, a small smile prying on his face. At the action, Techno put a hand on his head, finding his hair still fully there, still as long as it was. But then he pulled it over his face, and he almost fell off of his seat.

Technoblade’s hair was pink .

“What in hell's name did you do to my hair?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Wilbur tried, holding his hands up beside his head with a smile as the boy continued to frown, pulling it over his shoulder to find it all the same shade, “We don’t change our hair colour on Lemonberg, I wouldn’t know how to do it!” He groaned nonetheless, opting to lie back down and finding the ground beneath him soft, turning his head to see a blanket laid out and a pillow below his head.

He forgot they still had things like that, it’s not as if the ship crashed or anything.

If it had ? He wouldn’t know what he’d do. Kill Wilbur, probably, and then find a way to get it working again, there had to be at least one physics lesson that could help him with that. 

But why would he kill the one man who- wait what ? Wilbur had done nothing for him since they met. He kidnapped him, crashed a spaceship, and now what? They were stuck on a random planet with no fuel and no goal as to where they were going; were they going back to Wilbur’s home? Would they even welcome a human? Would Techno ever get to go home? Where was his violin? When did he last do his practice? When would the chippy arrive? Oh shit his Dad, he left his Dad, what if Tommy needed him or- or-

Something tapped on Techno’s shoulder, and he turned to his left to see Wilbur crouched to his side, violin held out in front of him and an unfamiliar smile on his face. If he focused enough, he could probably decipher it, but he decided against it, taking the violin slowly.

“You’re not forced to play it,” Wilbur said quickly, taking his seat and placing his hands on his lap, “But playing music calms me down when i’m stressed, so I thought it might be the same for you.” Wilbur said quietly, as if hoping no one would hear him. That smile remained, and when Techno took the violin out of its case, not a string out of place, it only grew warmer and more confusing.

A similar warmth sat in Techno’s chest, not something unfamiliar though. It reminded him of when he listened to Tommy’s ramble about how much he hated maths, or when Phil complimented his writing after reading his entire novel in a day. It wasn’t an unwelcome warmth, per se, but he felt it towards the man- the alien that kidnapped him. It wasn’t something he was keen on paying attention to, shoving the feeling down deep enough to clear his mind.

Bow on string, head on the body, back straight with glistening brown eyes watching him with a sense of happiness, the feeling forced his arms to move.

And when he played, eyes shut in concentration, he couldn’t see how the flames in front of him danced to the melody, how Wilbur sank into the sound and the sun filled dirt beneath them sewed itself back together. A single flower grew not too far from them, the plant foreign to the planet it now resided on, but it seemed to suffice with what it had, petals colourful and bright.

There was a light pattering of feet behind Techno, he temporarily opened his eyes to see Wilbur glaring behind him, deciding that unless the man jumped up whatever it was couldn’t be of any concern. Indecisiveness flickered in his eyes, irises flicking between Techno and the violin, or whatever that weird squelching noise behind him was.

The music continued nonetheless, a melody Techno played when he needed some form of comfort no one else could offer, and it seemed to draw Wilbur’s full attention once more, and he was able to shut his eyes again in focus.

It was a strange feeling. Techno didn’t trust Wilbur. The creature had snuck into his room, kidnapped him, made him miss out on a chippy, and landed on some random planet with nothing but an unfamiliar dancing warmth to keep him alive.

But another part of him did trust Wilbur. Another part of him said Wilbur was lonely, he was desperate, and he saw what he wanted in a friend in Techno. Wilbur had chosen Techno. There were 8 billion people on Earth, and God can’t even begin to comprehend how many beings across the multiverse, and Wilbur had chosen him .

So maybe a part of him did trust Wilbur. Maybe a part of him wanted Wilbur to be happy, for Wilbur to be able to hear his music.

This time, Techno let the warmth continue to grow in his chest, feeling the enraptured golden brown eyes on him the entire time, hands dancing across the neck of his violin as his bow moved with his swaying body. Techno was so taken by his own music, he didn’t feel the extra pair of eyes on him, the song soon coming to an end. The moment the planet was silent again, was the same moment Techno felt someone stood behind him. Turning, he had to pause, glancing back to Wilbur to find a content smile on his face, clearly having known this creature was standing there but not seeing a threat in its presence.

“That was beautiful playing.” The creature complimented, a wonky smile on his… green face? Now Techno looked at him, it didn’t seem he had skin like he and Wilbur had, but rather he was made up of some kind of slime. Glasses perched on his face nonetheless, a green jumper over his top and black bottoms being the only not green thing on him (ignoring his hair, which was a messy brown). “What is that thing?” He asked, pointing at Techno’s violin that he held closer to his chest.

“It’s my violin.”

The creature made a noise, if Techno had to guess it was something of both acceptance and intrigue. He held it tighter.

It seemed to notice, making another noise as the slime around it moved in a way that made Techno want to be sick. “I’m not going to take it, I just thought it sounded nice.” It assured, and that seemed to let a little bit of tension out of Techno’s shoulders, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding before placing the violin back in it’s case, clicking the locks shut. “My name is Charlie by the way.”

That name is weirdly human. Techno thought for a moment, shrugging it off.

“My name is Wilbur.” Wilbur added in, jumping up from his seat and away from the fire burning in front of them to shake Charlie’s hand. Much to Techno’s surprise, his hand didn’t go through Charlie’s, and it came away dry. This creature was certainly a weird one, and not one Techno had read up on before. Alarm bells went off in his head, and before anyone could say anything else a question had started to burn his tongue.

“Are you alone here?” He asked, Wilbur pausing beside the other to look at it with a raised eyebrow. Another strange noise came out of it, it sounded dejected and forlorn, and Techno would’ve considered hugging him if it wasn’t for the slime (key word considered, Techno never hugged anyone, only ever considered it).

Charlie didn’t reply immediately, and it only made their loneliness on the planet more apparent, and a strange silence was all that met Techno’s ears.

Silence wasn’t something you could hear on Earth. Even if everyone within a mile radius didn’t move or speak or breathe , background noise travelled far. This silence was so loud . Something was begging him to break it, something in his stomach yelled at him to say something to break the cracking in his mind, the silence was beginning to hurt.

“Yes.” Charlie finally said, kicking a stray stone, “I’ve been searching the planet for centuries, and found nothing.” The confession wasn’t what Techno expected, and he sent Wilbur a look to find the brunette looking right back at him, a conflicted look on his face. “But then I heard something, I assume it was your ship, and then I heard Wilbur talking to himself, but he wasn’t because he was addressing someone -“

“Alright Charlie, I think that’s enough we get the gist.” Wilbur cut in, and Techno had never wanted to hit the anhedonia more, pulling his hand in and out of a fist at his side. What had Wilbur said whilst he was asleep that he didn’t want Techno to hear? It made the warmth that had been building in his chest flicker away for a moment, and he watched as Wilbur tugged Charlie onto the log next to him, letting the fire warm him too.

“I like your hair.” Charlie said, and Techno looked up at him, finding Charlie looking at the long pink hair that made its way down his front. In reply, he shrugged, not entirely sure how to feel about it himself. One part said he hated it, that he liked his brown hair and he’d vowed to Tommy he would never dye it (no matter how much he complained that it would look great red). But another part of him said it was cool, made him look badass, and also that it was simply a nice colour.

“Me too.” He replied after a brief moment, throwing it behind his back as he watched Charlie’s face morph into a look of confusion. “It was brown before, when I landed on this planet it apparently changed colour, Wilbur said he did nothing to it-“

“I didn’t .” The man pushed, but a smile crept onto his face nonetheless. “But I agree it does look cool, wonder how awesome it would look in a plait.”

“What’s a plait?” Charlie asked, and Techno only knew because Phil had told him. In fact, Phil wasn’t his biological Dad, his real parents were American, left him up for adoption; Phil found him aged seven whilst on holiday, he was out doing work to earn money, and immediately started to find out how to adopt him, researching everything he needed to whilst spending every single day by Techno’s side, even cancelling his flight home and extending his time in the hotel.

It was two weeks after they’d met when Phil told him he was meant to leave a week prior, and Techno had gone insane , asking over and over why he was still there and not believing the answer that Phil gave him every time.

Phil had stayed for him.

When he was handed the adoption papers to sign 6 months later, something inside him started to believe that maybe Phil had stayed for him.

Phil was also British, so he said a lot of strange things, like plait, and crisps, and many other strange things he didn’t understand.

“You split your hair into three and twist them together,” Techno explained, a little surprised at Charlie’s intrigue, “It makes it look nice.”

“Can I plait your hair?” He asked, practically bouncing in his seat (Techno wasn’t sure if he was bouncing like a human, or if his skin was jiggling like whatever he was) at simply the prospect of getting to do something as small and insignificant as braiding hair. Techno shrugged, and it seemed like it was a good enough yes, Charlie immediately standing and going behind Techno, looking at his hair with a look akin to awe.

And he got to work.

Kind of.

Wilbur stood beside him telling him what to do, making sure that Techno was never hurt, and sometimes showing him which strand of hair was which. But the man soon got the hang of it, humming the tune of the song Techno played earlier as he carefully threaded Techno’s hair. When he reached the bottom, he let go, almost expecting it to remain the same, but it fell loose, and he could only frown.

“You need to tie it.” Techno supplied, and Charlie huffed, sitting back with a frown.

“Do you have a bobble Tech?” Wilbur asked, popping some food in his mouth as Techno scoffed.

“I have a hair tie , yeah.” He corrected, taking it off his wrist and passing it to Charlie, explaining how he had to twist it before wrapping it around the end of his hair again.

But the man started from scratch, this time braiding it quicker as he continued to hum, the sound having a strange projection to it; but he decided not to question it, accepting what Wilbur gave him to eat as Charlie started tying his hair, his green tongue stuck out in concentration as he twisted it three times, letting it go and watching it stay as it was.

What Techno didn’t expect was for him to jump up, happily yelling that he did it before looking back at it, smile growing.

He took a moment to look at it himself, bringing it over his chest and looking at the almost perfect braid, no slime remnants left behind. “That’s amazing Charlie, you’re a fast learner.” He complimented, and Charlie only smiled wider, falling back into his seat beside Wilbur as he happily bit his bottom lip.

The warmth was back. 

It wasn’t the exact same as the one he felt when he looked at Wilbur, but it was somewhat the same. It was a sense of pride, as if he was a teacher and his student had gotten full marks on the test, or as if he was a parent looking at a drawing his child had made.

Charlie was definitely older than him, seeing as he’d been searching for life on the planet for centuries, but Techno felt like he’d never truly gotten to be a kid, and that the child in his heart was shining through the smile on his face. 

“Charlie?” Wilbur spoke after the silence stretched on a little too long, the man humming in return as he watched the fire dance, adoration flickering similarly in his eyes. “Do you know if there’s faltzerine on this planet?” He asked, the creature humming for a moment in thought. Techno had zero clue what it was, but judging by the fact they had to do an emergency landing from lack of fuel, he assumed it was what kept the space-craft floating.

“I think there’s a few tanks of it back at home, but I just collect everything I see, so.” He returned with a shrug, resting his chin on his palm as relief washed over the man beside him, wings that Techno had forgotten about twitching behind him. “Why?”

“Well I need to get Techno home.” 

A thought passed Techno’s mind at that moment.

Was Wilbur still taking him to his own planet? To Lemonberg? Or was he taking him to Techno’s home, to Earth.

Techno wondered if Wilbur knew where he was taking him.

He expected Charlie to be upset they were leaving, but he continued to smile, pushing himself to his feet and offering Wilbur a hand, and he took it without a second of hesitation.

“Well we best get a move on then.”

———

School was quiet without Technoblade. Tommy already hated school, most weeks he went two days at best, and his only motivation to go was the chance to talk to Techno. Tommy wasn’t sure how they’d met, seeing as Techno was three years above him and was also American, but he was damn thankful for it. All he remembered was Techno was forced to teach a lesson of history to Tommy’s class, and he made sure to be the worst child he could.

And then Techno didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t bite back or tell him to shut up, he didn’t even ignore him. He sent him a glance, a smile, and moved on.

It was strange.

And now Techno wasn’t on Earth anymore. A part of him said Techno had died, that Phil was trying to be the parent that sugarcoats death by saying ‘they’ve gone to a better place’. But Phil wasn’t that kind of person, and he’d shown Tommy the note Wilbur had left behind.

Techno was in space. And Tommy was in school.

The main emotion he felt was jealousy. And anger. But it was also kind of funny that Techno was just scooped up and taken by an alien with such a strange name.

Then again, Technoblade wasn’t a common name either.

Since Tommy had moved into Phil’s a week ago, the man had made a point of taking Tommy to school every day and picking him up to make sure he didn’t ditch. It was terrible. And also a little heart-warming, but mostly absolutely diabolical. 

“Tommy?” The teacher called out, already going to say the next person.

“Yes miss.” He returned, and it made her pause, looking up at him with a look of shock before quickly shoving it down, moving onto the next name of someone he didn’t know. School, in Tommy’s righteous opinion, was the worst part of his life at that moment. Sure his best friend had been kidnapped, at least he got to go to space! At least he had his violin! He left Tommy alone at school to deal with a clingy father-figure and this kid called Tubbo sat next to him that didn’t shut up about how a nuke worked and how he’d figured out a way to get the codes for them.

Nukes were unimportant when he was stuck listening to his teachers practically lecture him on things he was finally starting to understand.

And then lunch came around, and Tommy had to sit alone at their lunch table, sighing as he bit his bottom lip, pushing down the lump forming in his throat with a way too good cheese sandwich Phil had made him that morning. Living with Phil, ignoring his adamance of sending Tommy to school, had to be one of the best things to happen to Tommy in a while. He was getting fed amazing meals, had his own room to sleep in, got to sit in silence (ignoring his constant talking), and he could snoop around Techno’s room without looking suspicious.

He could blame it on the grief he was supposed to have.

Apparently he was meant to be upset, to be sad that Techno was gone and had a possibility of never coming back, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

He was Technoblade after-all, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Hey kiddo,” a voice cut into his thoughts, a familiar one at that. When he turned, he saw Jack and Niki. They were people from Techno’s year, and Tommy already had a feeling he knew what they were here for.

They were quite the duo, most well known in the school for creating a mini rocket so strong it kept going into the air for 10 minutes, before finally tumbling down and wrecking the grass on the football field. Jack had a decisively shaved head and he usually wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, eyes bright blue with red glasses sometimes perched on his nose. Niki was equally as interesting, her hair was a coral pink and eyes a soft blue; she usually wore a skirt, wearing mostly light colours with her white boots and knitted leg warmers.

“Do you know where Techno’s been? He hasn’t shown up to his classes in, like, a week.” Jack asked, his voice having that same harsh edge to it that it had always had, blue eyes practically flashing in the artificial light.

When Tommy first met him, he assumed the harsh tone was because he hated him, but Techno had later said that was just how he talked. He explained it as similar to a resting face, but for a voice.

All he was doing was asking a question, but the anxiety from just a few moments before was forming another lump in his throat he worried he wouldn’t be able to push down. “Yeah I do. He’s fine.” I hope .

“Where is he then? Sick?” Niki asked, raising an eyebrow at him, trying to push the answer out of him as if she knew he was hiding something.

The thing was, Phil had told him not to say anything about Techno’s kidnapping. If the information of aliens having come to the planet got to the wrong people, Techno’s life would be more difficult from the moment he got back, and they were determined to keep his life as normal as possible.

But he didn’t give an answer as to what to say.

So he stayed silent, taking another bite of his sandwich as if he’d forgotten they were there.

“Tommy.” Jack called, whistling to him almost as if he was a dog. The boy hummed back, chewing on the soft bread and thanking Phil internally for his amazing sandwich making skills. “Where’s Techno.” Now it wasn’t a question; it was a demand.

“None of your business.” He muttered.

The shock on Jack’s face was priceless, and Tommy almost spat out his sandwich in amusement.

“None of my business ? One of my good friends had just magically disappeared and it’s not my business to know where he is?”

“Jack.” Niki’s voice cut in, hand pressed to the boy’s chest as she gave him a careful look, “If it was something that big of a concern, Tommy would tell us, it’s probably nothing to worry about.” Thank you Niki,you’re a godsend.

“But if it was nothing he’d be able to say!”

“Let it go.”

“He’s not Elsa.” Tommy chipped in, earning two harsh glares from the two in front of him as he muffled his own laugh, the boy hardly able to keep it in as he swallowed his food. It seemed to settle something in Jack’s face though, and when he looked back at Tommy, there was an apologetic look in his eyes.

“If it gets more serious, will you let me know?” He at least tried, and honestly Tommy didn’t have an answer for that. If Techno never returned, what would he say to everyone else? Maybe they would have to come clean about the alien that snuck into their house, but try their best to convince everyone that Wilbur wasn’t a bad person.

His lack of response said enough, Niki seemed to understand at least, sending a small ‘sorry’ over to Tommy before ushering Jack away, but before she left she sent a confused glance back to the boy at the table, who simply took another bite of the heavenly sandwich Phil had bestowed upon him.

School was shit.

Tommy missed Technoblade.

He wiped the tears from his eyes before they had the chance to fall and give anything away, or worse make him look stupid.

Tommy also missed Phil.

He wanted to go home-

Home .

Tommy had never had a home before.

And then he was smiling again, shoving the rest of the absolutely gorgeously built sandwich into his mouth as a weak attempt to mask the smile growing on his face.

Tommy had a home.

———

“You should be set to go.” Charlie told them, patting the side of the ship with a smile, looking at Techno, “You have your violin Technoblade?”

The boy smiled slightly, holding it up so the creature could see, waiting until he nodded to let it drop by his side once more. “Thanks Charlie.” Techno thanked, running an absent-minded hand down his braid as the man smiled at him once more, turning to Wilbur.

“This fuel should get you to any planet, but because of the state it’s in the fuel will evaporate the moment you land on any planet but this one.” Charlie explained, leaning on the space-craft with a loopy smile. Only an hour ago, Charlie had tried to explain the states of substances on that planet; Charlie knew very little about Earth, but when Techno had explained everything was solid, liquid or gas (after his question of confusion of what Charlie was made out of), Charlie had explained there was a fourth one on the planet that was a mix of all three, only possible because of the air pressure that could only be found on Charlie’s planet and a few others in the universe.

It was confusing, but he simply shrugged, accepting it at face value.

“Would you like to come with us?” Wilbur offered, opening the door and throwing in the food Charlie had given them even though Wil had insisted they had enough to get them home. For a quiet moment, all that filled the air was Charlie’s thoughts, eyes flicking as if he was considering all of the possibilities.

And then, finally, “I think i’m good here,” Charlie answered, his smile content as he looked at the dry ground beneath them that was hardly holding them up, “It might be lonely, but it’s home, I don’t think I could leave my home.”

This seemed to make Wilbur think for a moment, biting his lip as he glanced at Techno, the boy ruffling Charlie’s hair in reply.

“Thanks for being so kind, man, not many would be as welcoming as you.” He thanked, and Charlie’s smile only grew.

“No, thank you . I made two new friends, I learned about Earth, I learned how to plait,” Charlie listed off on his green fingers, and Techno only smiled more. It seemed the creature valued simplicity, and even though he was lonely on this planet, he was grateful for the moments of happiness the multiverse decided to offer him. It made Techno think back to Tommy, how the kid hated school and hated the orphanage, hated the kids in his classes and hated doing homework, but he went to school to see Techno and to talk to Techno and force Techno to help with his homework.

Tommy found happiness in a world he only saw horrible things in. He saw happiness in Technoblade, and that was enough for him.

Techno missed Tommy.

“Now you get home Technoblade, I’ll be alright here, I promise.” 

When Techno looked back at the ship, Wilbur was stood in the doorway; he seemed distant, eyes squinted at the ground as he thought. 

Techno wanted to go home.

It seemed Wilbur was only just realising that.

“Stay safe Charlie.” Techno said finally, nodding at the man before climbing into the ship, not bothering when he had to shove Wilbur to the side to get through. He didn’t bother waiting behind for him, simply walking through and into the room he’d woken up in just a week ago. And, for the first time in probably years, he fell face first into his bed, and sobbed.

He cried, because he wasn’t sure what else to do.

He cried because he missed Tommy, he missed his Dad, he missed school and violin lessons and Jack’s playful nudges in the hallways and Niki’s baked cookies.

He missed being able to breathe the right amount of oxygen, he missed the green grass and the blue sky and simple physics laws.

He missed home .

So, he cried.

He cried until his chest hurt, until his eyes were sore, until his stomach was screaming in agony. A headache was creeping up on him, a stabbing in his mind. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if it was from the crying or the severe lack of proper oxygen, or maybe dehydration. But he also didn’t care.

What he cared about was getting home .

But god, Wilbur . He couldn’t leave Wilbur. He couldn’t force Wilbur to take him home and force him to leave. He couldn’t yell at Wilbur for taking him, he couldn’t tell him he made a mistake.

Because being out of the house- being out in space with Wilbur was somehow one of the most interesting weeks he’d ever had.

One day, he’d found Wilbur in the other bedroom, knees pulled up to his chest as his wings twitched too much behind him, several feathers having fallen onto the sheets behind him. The yellow spikes on his head were flashing, and Techno could only watch with furrowed eyebrows, not sure what to say or do.

So he’d asked what was wrong. It was something Phil used to do with him when he seemed even remotely upset, and talking about it helped a little, helped him know that no matter what he went through there were people to help him.

Wilbur had come clean.

“I have no family back at home.” He’d said, voice quiet in general but loud enough in the loneliness of the ship to hear him. “And the family I did have didn’t want me there, they hated when I played guitar and sang. When I left, the only thing my dad had to say was to leave my guitar behind.”

“Did they know where you were going?”

“I think so. I never told them explicitly, but I think they were at least aware of the possibility.”

The flashing in his spikes slowed down a little, and his legs fell away from his chest. With slight hesitation, Techno had rested an arm around his neck, leaning his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. It was the best hug Techno was willing to give, and Wilbur accepted it, resting his head on Techno’s.

It was a quiet, a serene moment in the worry that was Techno’s mind.

Because Wilbur was just like him. Except Techno had family, he had Phil and Tommy. Wilbur had no one.

A part of Techno said that Wilbur had him. That, despite only knowing each-other for a few days, Techno felt almost as comfortable around him as he did Tommy. 

Whenever he played, Wilbur listened.

Whenever he spoke, Wilbur listened.

Whenever he was hungry, Wilbur gave him a plate of some strange Lemonberg food – that was admittedly shockingly good.

Whenever he told a joke, Wilbur laughed.

And he seemed to genuinely enjoy his presence.

It was a strange feeling, and his mind had been arguing over it the entire week. Did he like Wilbur or not? Did he see him as a kidnapper, or a desperate creature only looking for someone to love like a brother?

A soft knock on the door made him hold back another sob, sniffing as he wiped at his eyes. “What.”

“Are you okay?” Wilbur asked quietly, voice hesitant as Techno hiccupped, rubbing at his eyes that wouldn’t stop itching.

“No.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Did he?

Techno thought it over for a moment, wiping his nose on his sleeve before taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

His door slowly opened, and on the other side was a guilty looking Wilbur, the man walked in with a hesitance to his steps, before sitting next to Techno, waiting quietly for the boy to speak. It took a few minutes, but eventually he spoke up, voice hoarse and broken.

“I miss home.” He got out, and just speaking made him want to start sobbing again. Crying for Technoblade was difficult; it was a rare occurrence, but when it came, all the stress and all the worries from the past years came flooding out, and it was difficult to stop it once it had started, the only ways to slow it being playing his violin to rid of his shaky hands or sleep.

But sleeping didn’t feel like an option, and when he held the violin all he could think about was what would Wilbur like to hear the most?

Not that that was a bad thing, he loved playing, and when Wilbur said he loved hearing it a warmth immediately blossomed in his chest; a man who loved hearing his violin as much as he loved playing it, people like Wilbur were difficult to come by after-all.

When Wilbur didn’t speak, he took it as his cue to continue.

“I miss my Dad, I miss Tommy, I miss my bed,” Techno listed off, running his hands over his face in exasperation, “I want to go home.”

Wilbur stayed quiet for a moment, picking at his fingernails in thought. And then, “The ship is currently on it’s way to Earth.” He confessed, Techno immediately looking at him with wide eyes, but the look on the brunette’s face told him he wasn’t done, “But I can’t leave Earth after-“

“You can stay with us.” Techno said without a second thought, holding Wilbur’s hands as the man looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, wings stilling behind him. “Phil will love you, I know it. ”

“Phil?”

“My Dad.”

“Why did you call him Phil?” Wilbur asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. But Techno managed a laugh, the lump in his throat lessening as his headache began to worsen, and the tenseness in his shoulders slowly fell out. Wilbur’s presence tended to have that kind of effect on Techno, not that he’d ever admit it.

“Because he adopted me, I switch between the two. He’s my Dad but I call him Phil.” Techno explained, and that seemed to only confuse Wilbur more, eyebrows knitted as he tried to figure it out.

“Adopted?”

Techno held down another laugh, holding his hand over his mouth to conceal it.

“Yes, I was an orphan, meaning my parents gave me up for adoption, and when I was adopted I legally became Phil’s child.” Techno explained as best as he could, staring across the room as he thought carefully about his words, “He isn’t my biological Dad, but he’s still my Dad.“

The man takes a minute to think about this, resting his chin on his palm as he takes another deep breath, blinking into the little light they had in the ship as they felt the engine whir beneath them. “That must be nice, having someone to call family.”

After a second, Techno looks back at him, placing a hand behind Wilbur’s head and pulling their foreheads together, making sure Wilbur was looking at him in the eyes before talking again. “You are my family, Wil.”

Wilbur had never smiled brighter.

———

“ Phil .” Tommy whined, dragging himself into the kitchen as the older looked his way, giving him a hum of acknowledgement as he got the second pizza out of the oven, shutting the door and turning the heat off. “I’m bored.”

“Dinner’s ready mate, we’ll find you something to do after eating okay?” Phil offered, giving the boy a smile as he cut up the two pepperoni pizzas into 8 slices each, placing the pizza cutter beside the sink to remind him to clean it up. Even at the mention of food, Tommy continued to frown, continuing to drag himself to his seat, “You alright?“

“I miss Techno .” He whined, falling into his seat and resting his forehead on the table. This had happened twice already in the past two weeks, Tommy complaining at dinner that he missed Techno. It wasn’t surprising, and Phil couldn’t blame him. It’s not like he had been thinking of anything else other than his son (Is Techno safe? Is he well fed? Is he happy? Is he coming back? Does he want to come back?). “I wonder if he’ll still be awesome when he gets back.”

Chuckling, Phil placed a pizza in front of Tommy, the boy being sat in the same seat as every other day, “I bet he’ll be even more awesome.”

At that, Tommy lightened up, eyes sparkling with a new found excitement, “You think?” He asked happily, taking a bite out of his pizza as Phil gave an agreeing hum, taking a bite of his own as he thought of his next words. “What if he gets wings and stuff?” Tommy queried, mouth full of bread and cheese, head cocked sideways as Phil gave him a wonky grin.

In the two weeks Tommy had been here, several things had happened, several things that Phil can pinpoint the exact memory of.

Number one: Tommy was happier when he could smell someone. Tommy was like a dog, if something had a smell he liked, he stole it and never let it go. In one of his snooping sessions (as Phil had so rightfully called them, contrary to Tommy’s belief), Tommy had found the hoodie Techno had been wearing the day before he got taken, and it still smelled of him apparently. Tommy hadn’t taken it off since.

Number two: Tommy was endearing as fuck. Everything he did brought a smile to Phil’s face. Everything he said brought a laugh out of his chest. Everything he complained about, Phil couldn’t help but feel bad for him, crouching to his level to offer him emotional support. The kid had gone through so much, and he didn’t let that stop his personality from shining through.

Number three: If Tommy’s upset, you can really easily distract him. If Tommy’s sad that Techno’s gone, Phil will start talking about a moth he saw in the garden, and Tommy will not shut up about them for the rest of dinner. In a good way, obviously. Most of the time, Phil hated rambles about random things, they wasted time and hurt his brain; but when Tommy was talking about things like moths with that bright smile on his face, he couldn’t help but listen, matching the smile and finding it to be genuine.

Number four: Tommy is son material. Okay, so maybe Phil had contemplated adopting Tommy. Maybe he was waiting for Techno to come home to ask if Tommy could stay with them forever. Maybe when he looked at Tommy, into his crystalline blue eyes and his golden blonde hair, he only saw himself, but younger and funnier and smarter. 

“What if he dyes his hair?” Tommy says offhandedly, and Phil remembers where he is, seeing Tommy sat in front of him with his fingers up as if he was counting something, and with the way he looks thoughtfully into the distance Phil doubts it could be anything else. “What colour would he dye it?”

Phil shrugged, continuing to eat as he properly thought about the question, “Probably red, he likes red.” He replied, and Tommy simply rolled his eyes as if what he said was utterly absurd, shoving more pizza into his mouth than he’d probably be able to chew.

“Nah, he’d get it a badass colour, like pink.” Tommy explained, and Phil laughed, shaking his head out of fondness, ignoring the mischievous glare Tommy shot at him as he ate. “Yeah, pink would suit him too.”

They fell into a silence, which wasn’t that common, the only sound to be heard was chewing and Tommy’s foot as it rhythmically tapped the floor to a song only Tommy could hear, his head bopping side to side on the same beat. The quiet only helped the thoughts bite in his mind, and Phil tried not to focus on them, he tried not to stress the idea that his son could be hurt or in danger or-

“I’m gonna beat Wilbur up when he gets here,” Tommy mumbled, and it seemed he was thinking about Techno too, as he glared across the table at nothing, chewing angrily on his pizza, “Taking my brother away from me without even letting him say bye.”

“How rude for him to not say his farewells,” Phil laughed back as he pretended not to love how Tommy referred to Techno as a brother , and the kid didn’t reply in any way, only thinking harder (which usually for Tommy meant nothing good).

“Wilbur is a little bitch-“

“Tommy!”

“What?!” He shot back, half offended at Phil’s shocked response, laughing at the older man’s wide eyed face. “But he is a little bitch.”

“Yes he is, but maybe he’s nice-“

“He kidnapped Technoblade.”

“Maybe he was lonely-“

“He was a bitch.” Tommy countered, pointing in Phil’s general direction as if that proved his point. It didn’t, but Phil sighed anyways, thinking back to the scribbled note Wilbur had left him.

What if he was lying? What if Techno was never brought back to him? What if he never got to say goodbye?

“One punch.” Phil decides, glancing at Tommy who raises a curious eyebrow at him, not entirely understanding what he was saying, “You can punch Wilbur once -“

“Hell yeah!” Tommy cheered, mouth full of food as he jumped up, running to Phil and tugging him into a tight hug, swallowing his food so his words didn’t come out muffled. “Thank you Dad, thank you .”

Dad.

Dad dad dad.

He grinned.

Phil would do anything for Tommy, he decided as he hugged Tommy back, resting his chin on the boy’s hair as he giggled in excitement.

Tommy deserved the world.

And Phil would do everything he possibly could to give that to him.

———

The sight out of the front window never failed to amazing Techno. Sometimes, it changed colour ever so slightly, going from the deep purple it usually was to a deep blue similar to the night sky. And no matter how long he looked, he never ran out of things to see. Wilbur had tried explaining every universe to him, apparently they had to learn the names of them all in school and it was one of those things that had always stuck with him.

He did remember one of them though.

“That universe has humans in it.” Wilbur had said, despite the ship flying past it, “The traveller that first arrived at Lemonberg came from there, said she visited Earth once and was surprised at the people looking exactly like her, they didn’t bat an eye at her presence.” After the explanation, it made a little more sense. In fact, it made too much sense; scientists had been theorising for years over if life is in space, and judging by the broadness of it, it would only make sense for there to be life. But the size of space is not one a human brain can comprehend, so it would make sense for humans to have populated another planet.

“You’re of human descent?” Was what Techno asked instead, glancing at the man as his wings flared up behind him in shock of the question, wide eyes flicking to Techno with a single blink before nodding, “That’s cool. Did she speak English? Is that why you speak English too?”

“Yep,” Wilbur replied this time, smiling as he leaned his hands on a table they’d pushed over on the first evening of the second part of their space trip.

Now knowing where they were headed, any worry in Techno’s shoulders had left, and he found himself able to sit and eat dinner with Wilbur by the front screen without any concerns. Despite everything Wilbur had done, Techno couldn’t find it in him to dislike the guy, especially when he was taking him home after it all. They hadn’t talked about exactly what they were going to do when they got home, and Techno feared for Wilbur’s safety (it wasn’t Phil or anyone else he was worrying about, it was Tommy, that kid was going to be pissed ).

Honestly, he didn’t care, because in the end Wilbur was sacrificing everything he had to get Techno home. He was sacrificing the ability to go back to Lemonberg, leaving behind his friend Quackity and the man who’d named the guitar with him behind. Apparently it had been an easy choice.

“Lemonberg was never my home, I knew that, I just… never accepted it.” Wilbur confessed over dinner one night, poking at his food on his plate as he spoke, Techno not bothering to stop eating as he listened, he’d never really been a fan of cold food, “People from Lemonberg hate music. They hate it because it hurts. I thought I could change their mind. But you can’t convince someone to stop hurting.” 

The words held a desperateness to them, a plea that Techno didn’t want to accept.

A brother doesn’t ignore that, Techno had learned that when Tommy had opened up to him about his past. A brother needed support, and love, and understanding.

“Humans don’t hate music,” Techno tried after swallowing his food, meeting Wilbur’s amber eyes that held newly added hope, “We love it. We’ve been creating music for centuries, I think you’ll enjoy it there.”

Wilbur paused before replying, thinking over his answer with distant eyes. “Do you think they’ll accept me?”

“Tommy won’t.” Techno laughed back without hesitation, taking another fork full of whatever was on his plate that Wilbur had forgotten the name of (it looked a bit like pesto, but different), “But you did kidnap me, and he’s practically attached at my hip, he’ll be mad for like a day and then get over it.” The latter words didn’t help ease the worry in Wilbur’s chest.

“What’s Tommy like?” He’d asked, and Techno had spoken about the kid nonstop for about two hours.

He talked about the kid’s humour, he talked about Tommy’s school attendance, about his singing, about his hatred for reading and listening, but his absolute and utter love for listening to Techno read. Techno only ever hears Tommy be quiet for more than a minute when he’s reading aloud to him, he’ll ask questions every now and then but other than that he sits quietly, which is extremely rare for him.

When a lump formed in his throat, Techno tried to push it down, but it hurt too much, and tears brimmed his eyes before he could stop them. “Tech? Shit .”

The screeching censor only hurt his ears more, forming a splitting headache that hurt more than any other times Wilbur had swore that day.

“Hey? Techno? Breathe with me.” Wilbur said, and when Techno blinked his eyes open – he didn’t even realise they were shut – he saw the brunette crouching in front of him, a warm smile on his lips but the worry in his eyes betraying whatever confident front he was putting on. It only made Techno want to cry more, a quiet and desperate sob escaping him before Wilbur could pull him into his arms. “Can I hug you?” He’d asked, the question hesitant, and after a quiet second of jumbled thoughts, Techno nodded.

To his surprise, Wilbur didn’t laugh and say he was lying, he didn’t stab a knife into his back, he simply pulled him close, resting his hand on the back of Techno’s head, running slow fingers through the boy’s pink hair as he cried into Wilbur’s shoulder, hands gripping tight onto his fluffy wings, hoping he wasn’t hurting the man too much.

“You miss Tommy, don’t you?” Wilbur asked him quietly, hoping it could be heard over Techno’s muffled sobs. The boy nodded, hands shaking where they held brown feathers, and that only made Wilbur hold him tighter, letting out a slow breath to calm his own heart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know any better and I just- I was selfish.” Wilbur mumbled, eyes shutting as Techno sniffed, pulling his face back to look at him, look at the freckles dancing across his face and the tears glossed over his deep chestnut eyes.

He was young.

And a bit stupid.

But the apology somehow only made Techno laugh, wiping at his eyes and nose for god knows how many times that week.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a frown, and Techno only smiled, something Wilbur found had been a rarity in their weeks travelling together.

“It’s going to sound dumb.”

“Does it look like I care?”

Considering the question, Techno looked him up and down with a weak smile, before shaking his head. So, Wilbur waited, ever patient as he watched Techno’s red eyes flicker with uncertainty. (It was another side-effect of Charlie’s planet, similar to his pink hair, that meant Techno had red eyes. Wilbur had decided against mentioning it, hoping that the colour would fade some time soon. It hadn’t.)

“I can’t imagine my life having gone any other way,” Techno tried, but as soon as he said it, it sounded a bit dumb. Thankfully, it didn’t stop him from continuing, “Like sure if you told me a month ago I would be kidnapped by an anhedonia I would laugh in your face and tell you to stop being stupid, but sitting here I can’t imagine my life-“ without you . Techno paused before he could finish his sentence, keeping his gaze trained on the vast space shown to them through the front screen.

“Oh, I get it.” Wilbur said triumphantly after a moment, grinning as he pulled the two off the floor. When they had managed to fall onto the floor, Techno wasn’t sure, but he was glad to be off it. “We’re, like, multiversal soulmates.” Techno couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, it was hoarse and almost sounded painful, but neither people commented on it. “That’s why I only heard your music when I passed, like I couldn’t hear anything else.”

And then, something clicked in Techno’s mind.

“Wait.” He said, stopping Wilbur and drawing the man’s attention to him, eyes staring at the table. “You took me because you could only hear me? You assumed because you could only hear me I was the only one, that I would want to leave because you thought I was the same as you.”

The table fell into a silence, and Techno was adamant at not being the one to break it, watching Wilbur with careful eyes as he continued to eat, indulging in the shock on the brunette’s face with a mischievous grin.

Ignorant , Techno’s mind supplied, Wilbur was ignorant, and it caused only trouble for you.

Techno bit back a triumphant cheer when Wilbur sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I guess that may have been it, I don’t know I was too distracted by your music to think straight.”

Techno wanted to pretend he’d moved on from that conversation, that he hardly remembered it like most of the other’s they had. But the word soulmates kept repeating in his mind, something he’d always been a firm believer that it didn’t exist, that Tommy’s rambles of soulmates were just some made up fairytale, that the Greeks were delusional.

But that night, Wilbur had only heard him, had only heard his violin. Wilbur’s entire life was dedicated to finding someone like Techno, as if something told him he had to go towards Earth to find him. That thought made the same warm feeling burn in Techno’s chest, and he’d managed to sleep easier that night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to Wilbur’s excited knocking on his door, a groan escaping him as he forced himself up, opening the door to see Wilbur unable to stand still, biting his bottom lip as an extremely weak attempt of hiding his excitement. And yet there were creases in his forehead, showing worry, maybe nervousness?

Techno had never been the best at reading faces and naming the emotions, that was Tommy’s job. 

“You better have a good reason for waking me up.” Techno scowled, eyes narrowing dangerously at the man in front of him, brown eyes fluttering constantly behind him as his yellow spikes faded yellow and white. Usually, when in distress, they would flash white and yellow, a clear and distinct change in the colour. When Wilbur was calm, they would be pure yellow. Fading wasn’t something he’d seen before, and it only made the pit of worry in his stomach grow bigger.

Wilbur led him out of the room, partially hovering as his wings fluttered, practically landing by the screen as he pointed out, hand thrown over his mouth to hide his smile. With hesitance, Techno followed, looking out to see-

Earth.

Green and blue, white clouds on the surface, a familiar sphere with an off-white rock floating around it. 

Home .

And yet, when he looked at Wilbur, a happy bounce to his feet and a nervous shake to his hands, the same word came to mind. Warmth grew in his chest, a similar mix of seeing Earth and standing beside Wilbur. Some part of him said he’d been home this whole time, by Wilbur’s side as he explained anything that came to mind.

Another part of him said he was looking at his home, a floating rock in the strange existence that was space. But that didn’t sound right.

Wilbur sounded right. When the name was spoken, it was spoken with purpose and a familiar warmth that reminded him of when he and Phil first met, or when Tommy had bit back at him in class.

Home.

“What are we waiting for? It’s already night, only the government will spot us, come on.” Techno urged, and despite the anger he added to his words, a small smile rose on his face as he looked at Wilbur, watched as he went to the control panel and pressed a few buttons, warning him to hold onto something. After he’d spoken, Techno’s hand was curling around his tricep, red eyes blinking up at him.

Despite Wilbur wanting him to hold onto something more steady, he accepted the contact, pressing the final button as he let the ship take them to where he’d landed before.

To take them home .

———

“Phil.”

“What?”

“Phil.”

“Tommy I’m literally already doing something, I can’t do five things at once, I thought we went over this.” Phil sighed out, glancing back at the boy who was staring out of the garden window, mouth hung open in something unsure. 

“Phil.” Tommy repeated, and it seemed to be the only word he could say, slapping the man’s arm to force him to look in the same direction. After a huff, Phil complied, shutting the storage door behind him to stand behind Tommy, hands holding his shoulders tight as he looked out the same window.

There was a massive sphere looking thing in their garden. Almost like a ship.

Phil couldn’t stop Tommy as he ran outside, pushing the back door open with such force Phil worried he’d have to buy a new one. “Tommy slow down!” He tried, but words were lost in the noise of mechanical whirring, the ship moving closer to the floor as Tommy took a few steps back so he was pressed up against Phil’s chest, the man placing his arms on his shoulders once more to push down the worry in his chest.

Well, worry wasn’t the only thing. There was also hope, hope that Techno was finally home. There was also a burning anger, a flickering flame caused by the alien who’d named himself Wilbur , the alien who’d taken his son away. Alien felt like a very childish name for the situation, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

Eventually, the whirring stopped, and a set of stairs was pushed out under a door. After a too long, and way too quiet moment, the door clicked open, and there stood Techno.

Tommy didn’t hesitate to run directly towards him, thankfully Techno was on solid ground again before the blonde fell into him, sobs racking his body as his shoulders jerked, clinging to Techno and showing no signs of letting go.

“You’re such a bitch Techno.” He spat, only holding the man tighter as Techno hugged him back, breathing into the kid’s blonde hair with overwhelming relief. “I can’t believe you left and didn’t take me with you!”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Techno mumbled back, the boy sobbing again as he shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I missed you so much you fucking -“

“I missed you too, Toms.”

Footsteps gave away Phil’s presence, and when Techno looked up, he saw his Dad, a warm smile on his face as he took in Techno’s appearance, eyes flicking to Techno’s hair that remained in a braid on his back.

“Your hair is pink.” Was what he said, and Techno scoffed, opening his arm for Phil to fall into, the older man accepting the offer without a second thought.

The three simply stood there for a moment, letting the warmth take them, Tommy still sobbing as Phil wiped Techno’s tears from his cheeks, planting a soft kiss to his forehead.

And then.

“Tommy.” Phil said, his voice holding a mischievous tone that Techno hardly ever got the pleasure of hearing. And yet the boy got the memo immediately, slipping out of Techno’s hold and immediately going for the winged brunette who remained beside the ship, a hesitance in the way he held himself.

“Oi, bitchboy Wilbur,” Tommy spat, feet moving so quickly as he walked that Techno worried his feet would collapse beneath him. “ Shit name ,” Tommy muttered under his breath before tugging at Wilbur’s collar, bringing the creature’s face closer to his own, “You kidnapped my brother! You bitch! How fucking dare you!”

“Tommy I-“

“How does it know my name?!” Tommy squealed worriedly as he recoiled slightly, the question directed at Techno, but he didn’t take his eyes from the man in front of him in case he tried to scramble back to the ship.

“You were the topic of conversation most days.” Techno replied, and Tommy grinned for a moment, thinking about how, even when Techno wasn’t with him, the man couldn’t get away from him. Mission complete, he thought happily, before letting the smile fall again, a dangerous glare back on Wilbur once more as the man sunk in on himself. “Tommy-“ Techno tried to warn him, but a quick fist soon collided with Wilbur’s face, and Tommy let go of him, letting him fall to the floor.

Surprisingly, Phil only laughed, making his way over to the two as Tommy brushed his hands off each other as if ridding them of dust, a proud smile on his face as Phil nudged him away from the brunette on the ground, the man in question cradling his face with a groan.

“Sorry about that mate.” Phil apologised quietly, letting a smile onto his face as Wilbur glanced up at him, two spikes on his head flashing yellow and white so quickly Phil worried he’d go blind, “I promised he could punch you once, he won’t do it again, right Tommy?”

“I think he’s learned his lesson.” Tommy returned, going to spit on Wilbur before Techno pulled the kid into his side, Tommy seeming happy enough with that instead of getting more revenge on the alien on the ground.

“It was deserved.” Wilbur replied anyways, pulling his hand away from his face revealing a bright red patch that was bound to bruise. Techno didn’t think his brother had that much strength in him. After a moment of watching the older man in front of him, Wilbur blinked, mouth opening as he tried to speak, but ultimately failing, looking to Techno for help. The man in question was focused on Tommy, whispering something into the boy’s ear as his blue eyes lit up.

“You’re Phil.” Wilbur finally got out, pointing vaguely in his direction as Phil smiled, offering a hand to Wilbur which he took with hesitance, letting himself be pulled back onto his feet. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t know what I was thinking, but Techno’s safe, and I brought him back as promised, and I can just leave-“

“It’s okay.” Phil replied, cutting Wilbur off as he placed his hand over the red mark, looking into the alien’s eyes with a sort of wonder. “You didn’t know any better, and you brought him home, and I will be thankful forever that he isn’t hurt,” Phil told him, holding the other side of his face as Wilbur let tears fill his eyes as he waited for the man to finish, “Though you have plenty of explaining to do.”

“Why are your eyes red?” Tommy asked, looking up at Techno with a raised eyebrow. When Wilbur and Phil looked back at them, they found Techno stood with Tommy on his hip, the kid holding Techno’s pink braid and other hand gripping Techno’s ear as he stared intensely into the man’s eyes. But Techno could only scoff.

“I didn’t know they were, must’ve changed when my hair did.”

“I called it Dad! I told you he’d get it pink!”

Phil laughed with a shake of his head, both at the fact that Tommy was correct, and at the name the kid had given him. It felt right, and it made something like nervousness flutter in his chest.

“Let’s get inside, dinner is on, I don’t want it burning.” Phil said after a moment, letting go of Wilbur despite the man’s frown, and beckoning everyone inside the house; it wasn’t difficult mostly, with Tommy tugging Techno across the garden and into the dining room on the other side. But Wilbur was a different story. His steps were hesitant, and he kept glancing back at the ship as if considering leaving Techno with his family. “Wil?”

The man looked up, wings puffing out at his name being called, eyes wide as he stared at the other, something almost daring flicking across his expression. The smile on Phil’s face somehow only grew.

“Come on.” He said, beckoning the man in, and only then did Wilbur follow, letting the door be shut behind him.

———

Knocking woke Wilbur up. After a moment, the knocking stopped, and he hummed in satisfaction, holding the blankets around him closer to keep his body warm as he started to drift off again. Then the knocking returned, quicker, insistent.

Tommy .

“I’m sleepin’,” he called as best he could to the kid, but he took that as being allowed in, the door opening before a weight tumbled onto him, making him groan as he tried to shove him off.

“ Wilbur ,” he tried, sitting up and poking at his face, and when he opened his eyes, he immediately glared daggers at him, trying to slip further into the covers. But a snigger made him pause, glancing back to the doorway to see Techno stood there, something held in his hands as he watched the two, a fond smile on his face, “Wilbur, wake up .”

“Why? Sleeping is so much better.”

Wilbur had hardly gotten any sleep in the last few weeks, constantly making sure Techno was okay, making sure the ship wouldn’t crash, worrying over what Techno’s family would do or say about him staying. Really, he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper sleep until the start of that week. Phil had offered him the final spare room, saying he could sleep as long as he needed.

That was on Monday.

It was now Saturday.

Almost an entire week he’d been staying with Techno’s family, and a lot of it didn’t make sense.

For example the fact he’d been woken up by an insistent child, the kid poking and prodding him.

“ Will .” He tried again, pushing the man down into the bed, finally making him groan and kick the blanket off, Tommy falling off the bed with a terribly contained laugh, it coming out as an evil giggle before he got to his feet, waiting for Wilbur to sit up before speaking again, “Me and Techno have a present for you.” He announced proudly, going to Techno and taking something from his hands before going back to Wilbur, throwing it into his hands.

When he looked at it, he almost laughed, seeing a brown knitted hat - the exact name of it was lost with time on Lemonberg, it not being anything the traveller cared all too much for – made perfectly to fit his head. 

“What’s this?” He decided to ask, pulling it on before looking in the mirror, catching his reflection with a masked gasp.

Exhausted was the only word he could use to describe him. His shoulders weren’t tense anymore, wings drooped behind him, and he was sporting heavy bangs under his eyes that were almost as dark as the colourful bruise on his cheek (courtesy of Tommy). The clothes he wore were apparently Techno’s, some old pyjamas he didn’t wear anymore (the top was a simple band t-shirt, the trousers  being some black jogging bottoms). And yet, he couldn’t help but smile at the brown hat on his head, perfectly covering the yellow spikes.

Human was the only other word, and that only made him smile more.

“It’s a beanie,” Tommy explained, standing beside him with his head held high, standing on his tippy toes as if trying to make himself taller than Wilbur, failing miserably as Wilbur laughed at him, crouching so the kid could have his wish granted. “Techno, give him the other thing.”

At the child’s command, Techno huffed, walking over and holding out a perfectly folded piece of clothing that Wilbur made sure to pick up with care, taking in the brown leather coat in front of him. Like the last present, he slipped it on, looking in the mirror and finding his wings were now also hidden. Did he look a little ridiculous? Absolutely. It was likely the pyjamas. And yet his smile was still bright, Wilbur managing to crouch back down, opening his arms and letting Tommy fall into them.

In their week of staying together, Wilbur had grown rather fond of Tommy. At first, the kid despised him, sending him glares whenever he was within close range of Techno, shoving his arm whenever he walked past him, constantly saying how he hated him and wanted him dead.

And then he’d heard Techno give Wilbur a guitar, eavesdropping to make sure Wilbur didn’t try to steal him away again. And Wilbur had laughed, taking a moment to tune it before strumming it, finding it sounding nice before thanking Techno.

“Can I hug you?” Wilbur asked, a sniffle following as Techno hummed. Tommy peeked around the corner then, seeing Techno holding Wilbur so tight; not as if he was trying to strangle him to death, but more so that he never wanted to let go.

After that, Tommy had stopped giving Wilbur death threats, and the man was finally able to get close to him without being stared at as if he would explode if Tommy tried hard enough.

One night over dinner, Tommy had brought up everything that had happened in the time Techno had been gone. He’d said how they’d had an assembly about Techno’s disappearance, about how the lunch staff kept asking him where he was, about Jack trying to get information out of him as Niki just gave him freshly baked cakes every time they went up to him.

In that moment, Wilbur realised just how important Techno was to Tommy. So important, in fact, that he only ever spoke about anything relating to him.

“Tommy?” Phil asked over the table after swallowing some of his food, the boy humming for him to go on, “Are you not going to tell them about you being held at knife point in an attempted robbery?” Phil asked, a fond lilt to his tone that Wilbur hardly ever heard him talk without, and Tommy rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he shoved a meatball into his mouth.

“I was leaving school and this dude came up to me and tried to kill me,” he said simply, before immediately moving onto how he was struggling in maths without Techno there to help, and how Techno’s room was so quiet, and how Techno had helped him leave the orphanage.

It was on Thursday night that Wilbur finally got a conversation with the kid one on one, and he made sure to get it right. Firstly, he apologised, for everything he could think to apologise for. Then he explained how sorry he was for Tommy, how he didn’t deserve to go through what he went through.

When he awaited the response, the kid glanced at the guitar across Wilbur’s bedroom, smiling immediately.

“I’ll forgive you if you play me a song.”

That night Tommy had fallen asleep with his head resting on Wilbur’s shoulder, snoring quietly as Wilbur plucked at the strings on his guitar, smiling as his chest warmed at the sight of him.

And that brought them to Saturday morning.

“It’ll help you look more human so you can go outside and stuff,” Techno explained with a shrug, Tommy stepping out of Wilbur’s arms with a giddy grin, grabbing Wilbur’s hand and attempting to pull him out of the room.

“We’re going to the market today!”

“Tommy, I'm still in my pyjamas.”

“I don’t care .”

“Tommy-“

Tommy stared at him, something dangerous in his sky blue eyes that made Wilbur pause, considering his options.

He could change into some day clothes, and possibly be put on Tommy’s hit list.

Or he could leave the room with him, and get on his good side.

Wilbur grinned back, and stepped back into his room, shutting his door as he ignored the complaining from the other side. How Techno went three weeks without seeing Tommy, Wilbur would never know, because in those five minutes he was changing all he could think about was getting back to him.

It was in that moment that a feeling settled into Wilbur’s chest. It was a promise to keep Tommy safe, to make sure to be the best son to Phil, and to be Techno’s second favourite brother – second only to Tommy of course, because he was simply unbeatable.

It was at that moment that Wilbur knew he was home.

———

The room sat still. Techno glanced at him, a smile on his face as Wilbur looked back, making sure his guitar was correctly placed in his lap as Techno prepared his bow on his violin strings.

Phil was sat in his usual armchair, a warm smile on his face as Tommy sat on the floor beside him, eyes flicking between the two as if he couldn’t decide who he wanted to watch more.

And then, Wilbur tapped his foot on the ground, and the room was engulfed by a sweet melody, Wilbur letting himself smile as he strummed the chords, Techno’s eyes shut as he swayed to the music. It was something Wilbur had longed for his entire life; to be able to play music without complaint, without it feeling stolen or wrong . 

He glanced at Tommy, finding the boy’s mouth dropped as he stared right back at him, unblinking as if he was worried he would miss something, as if Wilbur would dissipate into thin air.

For his one month anniversary of staying, and Techno’s one month anniversary of returning, Tommy had insisted they learn a duet, as payment for stealing his brother from him. And who was to disagree with Tommy?

So even though anxiety fluttered in Wilbur’s stomach, hands ever so slightly shaky as his yellow spikes flashed dangerously fast under his beanie, he smiled throughout it all, sinking into the blue gaze his way that belonged to a kid he cared too much about. When the song ended, he looked at Techno, content in his red eyes as he looked right back at him, a smile on his face unlike one anyone in the room had seen before.

Home . Techno’s mind screamed as he looked at Wilbur, unable to take his eyes from him as he placed his violin back in its case. Brother .

Wilbur hoped he was Techno’s brother. He hoped Tommy saw him as more than Techno’s friend. He hoped Phil didn’t hate him after kidnapping his son. He hoped, for his own sake, that the people around him thought of him as family.

More than anything, he hoped Techno saw him as a brother . 

Without a word, Techno walked over to him, pulling Wilbur into a tight hug that was impossible to not return, and Wilbur made sure to hold him back just as tightly, holding down the tears as he shakily sighed into Techno’s shoulder. 

Two boys, completely different, somehow managed to find each other. Soulmates. Brothers .

Once Wilbur had loved music more than anything. But if someone asked him what he loved most in the world now? His answer would be his family. His brother . Technoblade.