Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A high pitched note chips away at the glitchy sort of static filling Technoblade’s being. The sound bobs and dips, growing louder and quieter in turns. The note pitches a bit too high, almost painful even through the endless gale that is Technoblade’s existence, before it breaks.

The sound is so sharp edged and wrong, it pings something at the edge of Technoblade’s mind. And that lets it realize that there is an edge, and thus a mind at all, among the infinity of nothing. With a sort of desperation, it grasps at it. Every atom of its being that is still under its control, which is far too few, presses against the solid corner that quakes at the sound of the scream.

Because, of course, the note is a scream. Even with audio still tinny and limited, Technoblade knows inside of itself that something cries. So it pushes harder and harder, and the slightest bits of sensation start to bleed through. The needles on the tips of the fingers and toes and top of the head. Reminding it that it has a form and body, limits and existence. Something presses into half of itself, hard and real and there.

Technoblade feels the outline of the skeleton and tendons, and feels the skull against the hardness. And with every bit of will that it has, it reels the head up as far as it will go and smacks it into the ground.

And then again. And then again. And then again. And then—

Technoblade’s audio systems pop and a shrill cry breaks through crisply. It is loud and it crests like waves. The baby is crying. It needs to be soothed.

But most of Technoblade’s systems are still malfunctioning or out of its reach. It is limp and on the ground and it recognizes the cry, but the eyes will not open and aside from a twitch of the fingers, it can’t move.

And so Technoblade lays on the floor and listens to the cry. It is a familiar noise, it knows. Even if most of the memory is still out of reach right now. Technoblade moves the head, hoping to perhaps look towards the sound, before its existence blinks for a second. And then glitching, again, but this time only the light behind the eyelids. The cry continues, but Technoblade suspects time has passed during the blink, since it now sounds strained, as if the vocal cords have begun to pull apart.

Technoblade’s eyelids open, but the lights continue to flash and shutter. It reminds it that it can move though, and with effort it brings the fingers to the face. It examines the hard plastic of the eyes and finds them intact. Internal malfunctions then.

Movement is still difficult, but the cry calls for it. Even without sight, it levers itself off of the ground and onto the knees. The cry increases in volume very slightly, and Technoblade leans against the edge of the wooden fixture where the cry is coming from. The fingers grip the edge of it and pull itself upwards till it stands.

The world feels like water beneath Technoblade’s feet, the head and upper body swaying and trying to find the floor again. Technoblade tightens the fingers and leans towards the cry

Its presence only seems to awaken the baby even more, as the volume increases much more significantly, apparently at the sight of it. Blindly, it reaches down until the fingers press against soft and squishy and warm. It moves the fingers until they touch the delicate features of the baby’s face, before pressing down lightly.

“Shhhh.” Technoblade tries to say, but it comes out garbled and wrong, as if it is the voice box that is damaged. Technoblade is quite certain the box itself is fine, but it glitches nonetheless.

Regardless, the baby quiets slightly. They still whine below the fingers and the sensation of moisture breaks through a bit, but no longer screaming. Technoblade continues to make the garbled shushing noise.

A pop, and then Technoblade’s knees smack into the ground. But no shutter, because the baby is still making a startled noise at the quick motion. Technoblade forces the arms forward so the body is held up by the armpits on the edge of the wooden fixture, arms and hands dangling inside it. And then a creaking noise from the voice box before more shushing and rubbing the hands over the soft and warm.

The cries quiet down and Technoblade feels the eyes shut and its weight presses down on the armpits where it dangles. Time passes, and it thinks that it shutters a few times, but the cries are quiet below the hands.

—

Techno wakes with discomfort pushing on his chest and arms. Blinking in confusion, he finds that he is bent over the edge of Ranboo’s crib. He’s a little stiff upon moving, so he gently stretches out his joints before turning back to Ranboo.

Ranboo is sleeping in his crib, breaths making small whistles. Techno relaxes a bit at the sight, though the familiar edge of panic nips at his mind at the blanks in his memory. His knees still feel a bit awkward, messing up his gait as he goes to look outside the structure where they stay.

The moon is high in the sky, which brings a frown to Techno’s face. He doesn’t remember what time it was last. Or if he fed Ranboo during that time.

He hurries inside at the thought and begins preparing a bottle. The bucket of water is still full, which makes Techno worry a bit. Dehydration is bad for humans, even worse than starvation. Usually, Techno would not wake Ranboo up while he is sleeping, since sleep is so important, but food is too.

Ranboo is warm in Techno’s arms when he picks him up. He presses the baby to his chest, and tries to rock him awake gently. Ranboo’s face presses against Techno’s neck, and it is very warm. Holding the waking baby a bit further from his body, Techno looks down at him with more scrutiny.

Ranboo’s face is slightly wet, though seemingly not from tears. His cheeks are very red too, and Techno presses his fingers to his forehead. It is definitely warmer than normal. Could it be from not getting a bottle? Dehydration doesn’t allow for proper thermoregulation. But then Ranboo would not be able to sweat like he is.

With a fussy noise, Ranboo opens his eyes and looks up at Techno. His eyes immediately start filling with tears, letting out a whine and screwing up his features like he’s about to cry. Techno pulls Ranboo back to his chest, bobbing a bit awkwardly up and down and shushing.

Usually Ranboo gets quite happy upon seeing Techno, sometimes smiling or even giggling in a way that makes Techno’s chest warm. Which usually would be concerning considering hot hardware is never good, but Ranboo seems to like the warmth, so Techno doesn’t worry about it. Now Ranboo quickly opens his mouth and lets out a cry, seemingly not soothed by any of Techno’s tricks.

With a frown, Techno tries to press the bottle into Ranboo’s mouth, hoping he’s just really hungry. Ranboo doesn’t seem too weak yet, though he does seem a bit more sluggish than normal, so hopefully he’ll perk back up after food. Unfortunately, Ranboo refuses to latch on, even as Techno adjusts the bottle just about every way he can think.

This is bad. Like really bad. Sure, Ranboo occasionally gets fussy and nothing Techno tries calms him down, but usually that doesn’t happen after Techno wasn’t awake for who knows how long. Babies are horribly fragile. Going even a day with no food may be fatal to them, unlike adult humans.

Techno sets down the bottle and shifts Ranboo so he can pat on his back. Maybe he’s just having gas. But even as Techno goes through the motions, he’s pretty sure that’s not it. All the information that Techno could find on babies warned about illness, another unfortunate circumstance of their fragility. Illness is particularly harsh on them and even something as tame as a fever or vomiting can be deadly. The only solution given in said material was to bring the baby to a doctor or hospital.

There’s a hospital in the closest city, only a few miles away, but no one would be there to help. Techno doubts there would even be any medicine left, since it’s a particularly valuable resource to any humans still alive. It’s been difficult enough to find baby formula, and there aren’t even many babies anymore.

“Come on Ranboo, try and eat a little for me,” Techno whispers while trying again with the bottle. It just seems to make the boy more fussy though, and he starts screaming loud enough that Techno worries someone may hear. Considering they’re hidden between a forest and a junk yard where even the most desperate humans wouldn’t bother to go, it’s a horribly loud cry. “You need your strength.”

Techno sits on the floor and keeps trying. He’ll have to go out and try to find some medicine, it’s the best Techno can offer. But it seems unwise to leave Ranboo alone for however long it will take. And that’s not to mention that Techno seems to be shutting down and malfunctioning more often. What if he shuts down for days and leaves Ranboo all alone?

The fear makes Techno grip the boy a bit tighter to his chest.

Eventually Ranboo manages to get a few ounces down before it becomes obvious he won’t drink anymore. Techno praises him regardless, as positive reinforcement and encouragement is important for human development. Still, Ranboo remains fussy and refuses to be put down for sleep. Techno holds Ranboo as he drifts off and forces himself to stay very still, so the boy can not roll over in his sleep.

A small crack in the makeshift wall shows that the sky is still dark. Ranboo will need to rest at least until day time. Techno locks his arms in place before allowing himself to go into standby mode, hoping perhaps his systems will be able to fix themselves a bit.

Techno is awoken far too soon after by Ranboo crying again. He notices immediately that Ranboo has puked up everything he’s eaten all over himself and Techno. He cleans him up quickly before trying to soothe the boy like normal. If anything, his screams only continue to get louder and louder, taking on a shrieking edge. The middle of his cheeks have started to go purple with how much blood has flooded his face. Techno feels like something is lodged within his components, and he has to poke at his chest to check.

Something is really wrong with Ranboo. He’s never been this bad, even when Techno first found him and didn’t know how often to feed or change him. In fact, ever since Techno learned that babies thrive with physical touch, Ranboo’s been quite good and happy. No matter how close Techno holds him, Ranboo does not quiet.

With a sigh, Techno stands and places Ranboo in his crib. He immediately starts crying even louder, but Techno steps away and starts collecting Ranboo’s things. He fills up all the bottles with water and packs as many containers of formula and diapers as he can. Then he picks up the small stuffed bear from Ranboo’s crib and places it on the top of the bag before zipping it up.

There should be enough supplies to get them where they need to go, but Ranboo will need to actually keep eating and sleep some more to keep his strength up. And his crying… Techno stares down at him in the crib before picking him up and hugging him.

“Please be quiet Ranboo. We need to go out to get you better.” Ranboo continues to cry. Techno slips him into a cloth carrier and hopes he falls asleep. If not… Techno picks up a handgun and checks that it’s loaded.

The small human settlement is only a couple days walk if Techno doesn’t take any breaks. Hopefully, they won’t run into any trouble.

—

Admittedly, the idea of luck is something foreign and inane to Techno, one of those things that’s just an idea held by humans. But if Techno did believe in it, he definitely has bad luck. Horribly bad luck.

Techno comes across someone while passing through the city. He’s quick to duck into a hiding place, peeking out and watching as they walk at a distance. Suddenly, Techno feels a shock go through him as he dips fully into his hiding place and locks his body completely still. Because of course the person prowling the city isn’t a human, or even a giant group of humans. Oh no.

It’s another android.

Humans, at least, may overlook Techno if he stays hidden. But he knows that any android patrolling a city is certainly looking for humans and is programmed to do so perfectly. And though Techno is not a human, he is not exactly on the good side with most androids.

Admittedly, Techno feels no particular allegiance to any group of beings. Perhaps he should hate androids and AI, for starting all this nonsense and hunting humans. Techno knows plenty of humans don’t deserve it, considering Ranboo is a human. But Techno mostly just wants them to stay away from him. What they do while away from him is none of his business. The same goes for humans as well.

As if sensing that he’s being thought about, Ranoo lets out a small whine suddenly. If Techno thought his systems shocked him before, it’s nothing to the lightning bolt that goes through him now and leaves his fingers tingling.

Techno pulls the sling off, trying to quiet the boy quickly. In a moment of panic, he presses his hand over Ranboo’s mouth. It muffles the noise a bit, but Techno can still hear the faint footsteps pause nearby. Techno removes his hand and shoves Ranboo back onto his back under his bag. Clicking the safety off of his gun, Techno gets his feet under himself and leans forward slightly.

The footsteps restart, but slip away from the main road. Techno wants to curse, looking around for somewhere to go. The android is likely on their way towards Ranboo’s continued cries, hidden among the buildings and debris. In a split decision he runs out into the street, trying to cross the road quickly.

A building with blown out windows stands across the street, and Techno makes a beeline towards it. He forces far too much force into his legs, springing into a too high jump and crashing into the building as gunshots ping where he was originally running. The android obviously thought he was a human at least. His legs whir and lock up slightly, but he forces them to keep moving regardless.

Ranboo’s screaming at the top of his lungs now. It echoes in the gutted building where Techno crouches, a beacon to their location. It makes something in the back of Techno’s mind scream at him, wanting to reach out and soothe. Babies need to be soothed when they cry. Techno turns towards the window he determines is most likely to be approached and extends the gun.

With his finger on the trigger, Techno stares unblinkingly at the open window. The android has to come in, right? Unless it knows that having a baby means Techno will have to come out first. Will it wait them out?

Techno is pulled from that line of thoughts by something circular being tossed through the window. Techno automatically turns to run and leap behind a small piece of cover, but then he remembers that Ranboo is on his back and turning would leave him open to be hit by the explosion. Techno forces himself to run backwards, far faster than a human would be able to, but slower than the forces of the gunpowder and chemicals expanding in the small device.

The grenade bursts and sends Techno flying backwards. Techno forces his arms behind him during the fall, wrapping awkwardly around the lump on his back to soften Ranboo’s fall. A dozen pressure points over Techno’s skin screams about injury and punctures. An echo of lights bursts over Techno’s vision and his ears make a screeching noise like crushed metal before snapping into place.

After a stutter in his brain, Techno yanks Ranboo’s shrieking form off his back and shoves him behind the cover nearby. He runs and jumps out of one of the windows on the side of the building, crouching in the alley. The world is quiet except for Ranboos’ cries. Techno grips the gun and creeps forward a bit.

As smoke and dust starts to settle in the air, the android darts out of their hiding place across the street. Techno stands and points his gun towards it. It turns towards Techno right as he pulls the trigger, just fast enough to start to react. Not fast enough to dodge a bullet. It sinks into the android’s head. Techno puts three more bullets in it before lowering his gun.

Techno hops back into the building and goes to Ranboo. He unravels him from the cloth and thoroughly looks him over for injuries. He seems okay, uninjured aside from the incessant cries, but Techno still frowns. He feels bad for using the boy as bait, even if it was safer and the only way. Techno pulls Ranboo to his chest and rocks him a bit.

“Sorry,” Techno whispers. He keeps Ranboo in his arms while leaving and restarting their journey.

Techno’s left leg seems to bend too far with each step while his right sticks straight. Ranboo’s cries seem to fade in and out, and it takes Techno a few minutes to realize that it’s his audio components. A static bleeds into the edges of Techno’s being, making focusing difficult. He keeps losing his train of thought and pausing in the middle of the road until he remembers again.

Techno needs to get Ranboo to the human settlement. It is well hidden and has many guards. Even Techno has had to be sure to avoid the area when looking for supplies. They must have medicine, and humans seem programmed with knowledge on caring for babies. They should be able to help Ranboo and make him all better.

A blink and flash of black and then the arms start to loosen. Ranboo lets out a horrifying screech and Technoblade tightens the arms quickly. He locks them in place roughly, the fingers wrapped around the elbows for added support. He forces the legs to keep moving forward despite the pings of warning and whirring components.

Electricity dances over Technoblade’s skin, leaving the sensory inputs scorching and then numb. It needs— He needs to hurry. Before—

A stutter. And then the sky is dark and Technoblade is on a side street he does not recognize. Is this close to the destination? It can not access the path finding feature. It is cloaked by the spreading static. The right audio input pops over and over.

Technoblade— Techno—

Ranboo’s cries have grown quieter, overtaken by a raspiness. It looks down at his face and finds that the red has drained from under his skin and a dusky blue is frosted over his lips. Cold?

It leans forward, a shake in its core, and presses the forehead against the baby’s face. The sensory inputs misfire and restart before picking up warmth. Hot.

The baby continues to cry. They need to be soothed. It needs to— It needs to—

A shout and then a metallic click rings out from down the street. A figure stands with a gun outstretched, finger pressed against the trigger. It wants to reach for its gun, because the baby cries and it needs to be soothed, but the arms are locked.

The figure steps closer and the gun shakes in their hands. Human, it realizes. The baby cries and the memory can not be accessed, but it knows that this is correct. To soothe— To soothe—

A bullet splits the air with a loud crack and then a stutter. And then a stutter. And then a stutter. And then—

Something hard presses against it, the edge of the static. Light dances and flickers wildly over the eyes and the ears snap and creak. The only thing aside from the static is a cry, too high-pitched and shrill

“Shhhhh—” The voice box sizzles inside the throat. The lights flick off and the hard surface slips away.

And then it's just the cry.

Chapter Text

A thin line of voltage runs through the entire body, pushing against its form till it feels terribly full and hot. The white electricity retreats slowly, leaving the tips of the fingers and toes shaking slightly. The ears feel full of bells, ringing incessantly, and it wants the fuzz around its senses to clear. It feels suspended in space, though the space seems to be pressing in on it.

With a large push, it forces the eyelids open. The eyes whir and pinch at the sudden light input and it stares dumbly as its vision clicks a few times, trying to restart to take in the proper sights. Eventually the eyes give up and flicker before falling to blackness.

The dark seems to cloak the senses even worse than before the eyelids were open. It flicks the eyes around uselessly, as if it may force them back on. They remain useless as expected.

“Ranboo?” Technoblade asks.

There is movement at Technoblade’s side in response to the sound. Even as the memory fails to pull pictures to the forefront, the shifting is enough for something like warning to push at it. It makes the wires in the back of the head snap a bit and it pinches its lips.

It feels a sudden pressure at the side of the head, making the body jolt as the sensory organs snap. The eyelids flip shut against its will. Technoblade tries to lift the hands and explore the sudden blindness, fill the gaping void of input in its mind, but the wrists smack against something hard that holds it down. A click in the mind and then—

Vision falls flat against the empty mind, still and silent before a shutter allows processing again. Technoblade immediately flicks the eyes back and forth, head whirring at the too much input as the parts struggle to turn fully on. The eyes turn to movement at its side, sticking to it as the eyelids shut and open a few times to allow the picture to sharpen.

A human stares back at it, a few feet away. Their face is blank and passive, simply watching as Technoblade takes them in.

As if satisfied by whatever Technoblade does, the human turns to a row of screens and such, typing on them while glancing at it through the corner of their eyes. Suddenly the screen fills with moving images, pulling Technoblade’s attention. It is a repeating image. Repeating the inside of his mind. The screen and the human on the edge, reflected back over and over. It makes Technoblade dizzy and the eyes shake a bit.

“Alright, sight works,” The human mutters before shutting the image off. It relieves some of the pressure in the head and behind the eyes.

Other lines of the screen continue to move. Lines of text and numbers and squiggly lines. Technoblade does not know what they mean. The human seems to know though, as they look over them.

Technoblade allows itself to look away, instead exploring the expanse of its form. The edges of the fingers move when it tells them to, as do the toes. It still can not move the arms, or legs, more than a couple centimeters when it tries. It is immobilized physically.

When it turns the neck, something catches where it shouldn’t. It tests the feeling a bit more, moving the head back and forth. It is like there is something attached to it.

“Stop moving, would you,” The human suddenly voices. Technoblade’s body locks up for a second, almost sending a white jolt throughout the abdomen as if something hooked the pieces, before it turns the head to the side and relaxes. The human looks at it at its disobedience, face twitching minutely before they look away.

A sound pushes from the screen for a second before the human makes it stop. But the short snippet makes the head spin slightly as the memory catches on it. It almost sounded like. A cry.

The baby. Ranboo. Where is he? He had been in Techno’s arms, hadn’t he?

But there is no Ranboo anywhere in the room, only the other human. Did that human take Ranboo? There had been a human at the end, hadn’t there? For Ranboo. For his cries.

Techno opens his mouth to ask after the baby, but a ringing click sounds from a keyboard and shuts the eyes and ears and body and brain off, and snaps him away.

—

There is ringing in the ears. The sound rises and falls like waves, screeching high-pitched and light to low-toned and dull. It repeats endlessly, barely solid enough to allow it to feel the ears. But the sound, it tightens the hearing components.

A pinch pulls at the back of it, tightening when the ringing rises and loosening when it falls. Something stirs within it, pushing for it to end the ringing. Make the cry stop, it won’t stop. It has to soothe it.

“Shhhhhhh” The voice box presses out, stuttering at first before evening out.

“Why are you making that sound?” A voice asks.

“The baby. They’re crying.” Silence follows the admission. The hands jerk upwards only to be forced flat.

“... Why’s the baby crying?” The voice asks. The baby cries… The question makes the memory whir painfully. Why is the baby crying? It was—

“... Sick.” The answer feels correct. The memory slips pictures of red skin and blue lips and inconsolable tears. The voice makes a humming noise.

“This might be uncomfortable,” The voice warns.

It expects the small shutter that comes and the burn as it snaps back into place after. It does not expect something to force itself into the mind, popping the static like a gunshot pops the atmosphere, before something heavy drops over it.

The thick lead drips over every curve and edge of the being, too heavy and cloudy to allow it to think or move or breath. It fills it, shoving between the metal filaments of its wires. A sudden bright shock fills its form, making the back arch as the skin prickles painfully and the voice box pushes out its own high-pitched sound. The too thin everything falls away to the suffocating mass.

The memory flicks on, passing through images and sounds, over and over till it is dizzy and spinning, like the vestibular weight has been shattered and all the little pieces clatter throughout it. A baby’s face paints itself between the nothing and the everything. Crying. Crying. Crying.

As the next shock allows it to feel the physical edges of its form, it grasps the head and raises it off the surface before forcing it back down roughly. It does so again and again, veins of buzzing silver spreading out with every blow. It continues until the body falls flat and snaps off, followed by the mind.

—

“—r me?” The ears pop before flattening out, Technoblade spreading out behind the eyes as the mind processes the sound. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” The voice box comes out mostly steady and flat. The sound pauses at the affirmation before a shifting fills the air. It wants to open the eyelids. They slid open with an audible click, eyes pinching for a second before settling calmly.

Moving the eyes towards the sound, Technoblade catches sight of a human near it. It recognizes the human, as the memory pulls up. It is the human. Or, a human. That it has seen before. In the same room and place.

Technoblade looks down at itself and takes in the physical bindings on its wrist for the first time, something pulling at its mind at the sight. It wants to move. And go find Ranboo.

The eyelids blink at the thought and it shakes the head back and forth roughly.

“Hey, don’t go smashing your head about again or I’ll tie it down. I just fixed all your insides,” The human scolds, stepping closer to it.

The human fixed it. They are… a mechanic?

Techno remembers, that mechanics work on mechanical things. Like doctors work on humans. He remembers…

The mechanic looks down at Techno, before their eyes flicker back to the screen at his side a few times. “There is an error in your software. In the AI.”

The words make something in his chest click and Techno wants to place a hand against it, but they are still strapped down. Instead he moves his eyes up to the screen, like he might be able to pick the error out on his own. None of it makes sense to him though.

“I fixed your hardware, everything that was physically wrong with you. But you continued to have glitches so I looked through your coding. Which was not easy, but an abnormal pattern became obvious, it’s likely what’s causing the issues.”

That makes sense. Techno knew many of his parts were not optimal or broken and that they were causing issues. But his shutdowns are too complete to just be from overheating or physical damage.

“I probably can’t fix it, but I’m not going to try either way.” The mechanic looks down at Techno when they say that, eyes squinted and sharp. Techno just blinks up at him before nodding jerkily.

He doesn't know why he is still… alive. Why the humans did not put him down. Perhaps they wanted more information, and shall do so afterwards.

The mechanic tilts their head to the side, as if they could pick apart his code with their eyes.

“I believe that the error is a product of your evolution that was never self corrected. That even if I could remove it, you would likely revert to factory reset or whatever it is that androids do.” Techno quickly shakes his head in a negative to that, arms instinctively trying to escape their restraints, earning a smile from the mechanic. “Interesting. But I thought so.”

“You have the baby?” Techno asks. The mechanic blinks before narrowing their eyes down at him. Their eyes are a deeper blue than Ranboo’s. Their hair is slightly long, blond. Some fat sticks to their cheeks, not as much as Ranboo’s, but that is normal for adult humans. They seem healthy.

“... Yes.”

Techno lets his eyes slide shut at that. The human would not hurt another of their kind, not an infant. Humans care for their young for many years, until they are full sized. Ranboo will be taken care of at least for many years to come.

He does not know if the mechanic says anything else, as he falls into the pale grey standby mode, ears clicking off along with his eyes.

—

Something jabs the face repeatedly, pulling him from his standby mode. Feeling a bit of annoyance, Techno forces his eyes back open and stares up at a person as they jab his cheek with their finger again.

“Yoo-whoo~ Killer robot, wake up~” The human—definitely human—says in a lilting voice, still prodding at Techno.

“I am awake,” Techno says flatly.

The human at least stops touching him at the words, instead just staring down at him. They could have stared at him when he was in standby mode, why did they wake him up for this?

“Do you recognize me?” The human asks. Techno tilts towards their face a bit more, eyes scanning their features. They are very tall and have curly brown hair, though look quite normal.

The memory suddenly twitches a bit, making Techno shift uncomfortably as he’s forced to remember that he does recognize this human.

“You shot me.”

“Ah good, you do remember me,” They say. Techno hums vaguely in agreement when they’re quiet for a few seconds. He doesn’t know what the human wants with him, even if they are the one that shot him. “Do you remember that you had a gun on you?”

“Yeah, it was my gun,” Techno says. It’s just a little pistol, but it came in handy when he was scavenging and such.

“Right. Which is why I had to ask you,” The human starts, sitting on the edge of the table where Techno lays. His fingers tap a rhythm on the surface, nervous maybe. Their eyes search the ceiling before falling back down and locking with Techno’s. “Why didn’t you shoot me ?”

Oh, he supposes most androids would have easily shot the human when they first saw them. To a human it must have come across as weird. Well, Techno doesn’t quite know what to say anyway. He hadn’t shot the person because something inside him didn’t let him. His arms were locked up and the human’s hands were shaking and Ranboo was crying, crying, crying.

Techno shrugs up at the human. It seems to displease them, since their features twist at it and they hop up from their perch on the table, pacing a few feet away.

“Why did you have that baby?” The human asks, much more terse now.

“I was bringing him to you,” Techno tries to answer honestly. He hopes nothing he can say would make the humans reject Ranboo. He’s just a baby after all.

“Why?” Suspicion spills over the word. Perhaps what he said was not too wise.

“He was sick and wouldn’t eat,” Techno tries to explain. They must know that. The humans were meant to take care of him and make him all better. Make sure he wouldn’t die. “He wouldn’t stop crying.”

The eyes continue to prod into him, harder than the fingers earlier. Techno doesn’t know what the human expects to find. They open their mouth to speak, only for the door to the room to open and cut them off.

“Wilbur? What did I tell you about coming in here?” The mechanic's voice rings through the room, pulling away both the human’s, Wilbur apparently, and his attention.

“Just chatting with our guest,” Wilbur says casually, crossing his arms.

“I doubt there’s much to chat about,” The mechanic says.

“I don’t know. It knows plenty about the baby, it seems.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“Phil—” Wilbur says with a bit of a whine, turning towards the other man before Techno finally forces his jaw open.

“Is Ranboo okay?” The eyes in the room turn back to him, varying levels of sharpness in them.

“Who’s Ranboo?” Wilbur asks.

“The baby.”

“What do you care?” Something acidic drips over Wilbur’s words and Techno can’t stop his lips from pulling into a frown.

“The baby’s fine,” Phil says levelly, sending Wilbur a look. Techno relaxes a bit at that, turning his attention back to the ceiling.

That’s good. He did what he meant to do then. The humans fixed Ranboo and he’ll live now.

“Where did you find the baby?” Phil asks, curiosity in his tone.

“In the junkyard on the east side of the city,” Techno answers blankly. His mind feels a bit flat, something adjacent to when he’s about to shutter but not quite.

“And there were no humans nearby?”

“No. I looked around.” Techno lets his eyes fall shut again. “There was a dead adult woman in a building a couple miles away.”

“Did you kill her?” Wilbur asks, sounding sharp. Sharp, sharp, sharp.

“No.”

“How long ago was that?” Phil asks.

“About seven months,” Techno says. And then: “I don’t know how long I’ve been here though.”

There’s a humming noise from one of the humans and then: “Just a couple weeks.”

That’s good. If Ranboo’s survived a couple weeks he must have been healed and is all better now. That’s good.

“... Why didn’t you kill the baby?” Wilbur asks. Techno lets his eyes open again and sighs, looking back at the two humans.

“I don’t know.”

—

There’s an incessant crying. It won’t stop, screeching in his ears until they crackle and twist. The noise continues even afterwards, echoing in his head and mirrored a million times in the memories that are pulled up.

Technoblade wrenches upwards, trying to move the hands so it can cover the ears and stifle some of the endless aching noise. Just make it stop, please!

A loud pop and tearing noise fills the air as Techno startles awake, one hand smacking against his face numbly. Techno blinks his stiff eyelids, mind stuttering as it tries to fully push him out of standby mode.

A starburst of electricity pops at his wrist, pulling a hiss from him. Techno looks down and finds that his thumb hangs awkwardly, skin torn where the arm bone and wrist meets. He stares dumbly down at the still closed restraint. He must have torn it free by accident.

Turning to look around the room now that he can lift his head a bit more, Techno takes in the quiet and darkness. Even the computers and screens lay dead beside him. Techno strains his ears, finding the surrounding area just as silent as the room. Perhaps it is night time. Humans tend to sleep at night after all.

As Techno focuses on his surroundings even more, the faintest of noises registers nearby. The ears make a clicking noise before the sound increases slightly in volume, allowing Techno to hear more clearly.

He knows that sound. It’s Ranboo crying.

The sound makes the chest feel like all the internal components have been shifted to the side. Techno raises his hand to the area, feeling a bit off balance. The fingers on his free hand twitch against his will, spasming with a jolt.

Techno doesn’t think as he shoves the tips of his fingers under the edge of the metal binding on his other wrist. He tucks his constrained thumb under his palm, making his hand as thin as he can before throwing his body weight backwards.

His body smacks against the table with a thud, sparks and shakes shooting up both of his arms as he stares at the ceiling. Techno forces himself to lie very still as he can feel the edge of his mind folding, peeling backwards. He does not want to shutter right now. Ranboo is still crying, crying, crying.

Slowly, Techno examines his wrists. The left one that he wrenched free is damaged much worse than the right, but it still functions if he puts some more power behind the actions. Sitting up, Techno turns his attention to his bound ankles.

It’s much more difficult to pull his feet free, as their angle means they can not exactly slip out. With a deep breath that makes his chest whir, Techno presses his palms against the tops of his foot.

His ankles let out a cracking noise as the joint is forced beyond its range, danger ticking in the back of Techno’s mind as he continues to push. When his foot and ankle make a 180 degree angle, he pulls it free with some difficulty before starting on his other.

As the bottoms of his feet hit the ground, a shake goes through the entirety of Techno’s body. The joints of his ankles make jarring metallic noises, like damaged audio processors, but they still stiffen and let him stand despite the effort. He doubts he could run, but that’s okay.

Without a second thought, Techno starts towards Ranboo’s continued screaming. The halls and doors around him blur, totally inconsequential in his one track mind. The closer he draws, the louder the cry gets, making something tap in the back of his head. It feels a bit like a pinched wire.

Tremors run through Techno’s limbs as he draws before a closed door, an endless cry emitting from behind it. There’s a wheezy sort of edge to the cry, as if Ranboo hasn’t stopped once since they last saw each other. The edges of Techno’s mind push in on him before he smacks the edge of his palm against his head a few times. It causes electricity to run up his forearm, but that’s okay.

The room he pushes into is small, holding only a few pieces of furniture. Ranboo lays in a crib pushed against the far wall, slightly moving body visible. His body seems to spasm with the force of a wail, growing in volume before dropping back down again.

A human is leaned against the edge of the crib, bent over and head enveloped in their arms. After a few seconds of stillness, Techno realizes that they’re sleeping. He pays them no more mind before turning back towards Ranboo.

Peering over the edge of the crib, Ranboo’s irritated face almost shocks him. His face is wet with tears and snot and spit, pink and red with heat and irritation. There is still fat sticking to his cheeks however, and no blue to be seen. That’s, good. Good.

As if sensing that someone’s over him, Ranboo closes his mouth enough to open his eyes. The pale foggy blue meets Techno’s, silent for a second before a wretched scream peels from Ranboos throat, almost gurgling like the skin of his throat bubbles up at the force.

Techno dips down immediately, picking the boy up and cradling him to his chest. The awkward sort of bob that tends to soothe the boy, along with a rhythmic circle rubbed on his back, is easy to fall into, like it’s carved deep into his code.

“Shhhh,” Techno shushes, holding the warm boy close to him. Ranboo feels a bit too warm, but not like before. Techno swears he feels slightly heavier as he cups a hand around the back of his head.

Ranboo’s clumsy little hands grapple around wildly before sinking into Techno’s hair and shirt. They tighten into little fists, and Techno knows from experience that they will be hard to pry away. He doesn’t bother trying, continuing to sway and let out shushes, feelings as the boy slowly falls still and quiets.

Ranboo seems to pull in a gasp before his mouth finally shuts, face pressed into Techno’s shoulder. It feels like a foreign entity in Techno’s brain, a pin jabbed deep within his moving parts, is removed at the silence. It feels right.

Techno opens his eyes and meets those of the human. They’re halfway lifted from the crib, crouched over slightly and looking at Techno with palpable fear and defensiveness. Techno doesn’t move, aside from his repeated petting of Ranboo’s head.

“What are you doing?” The human asks, a sort of deadliness in the tone. It seems there’s something sharp to all these humans. It’s good and soothes something in Techno. Perhaps they will do well defending Ranboo.

The thought of Ranboo growing so sharp makes something turn sadly within him though.

“He was crying,” Techno answers simply.

“Give him to me,” The human demands, stepping closer to Techno with tension. Techno pinches his eyes closed, hugging Ranboo close to him once before slowly letting go and holding him outwards.

The human darts forward to grab him, but Ranboo immediately squeals at the new hands, pulling roughly on Techno’s hair. Still holding the boy up, Techno restarts his shushing litany, though it obviously does little for the boy. The sound swells within Techno’s head until he pinches his eyes shut again and hugs the baby to his chest, wrists smarting.

Something wavers in Techno’s mind and he tries to force it away. Ranboo is crying, he needs him. It can’t— He can’t—

Technoblade jerks upwards and steps clumsily towards the box, setting the baby within. It increases the ringing in the ears, making the mind click as it tries to adjust, before snapping quiet.

A shutter and something presses on the legs and front, an insistent tugging on the top of its scalp. Every tug seems to let through a high pitched noise, an oscillating sort of thing. It pings as wrong and the body jerks with it before it loses the body again.

Static pulls on endlessly, just rough enough for it to know that there is an it. It pushes hard, hard enough that the static wavers and bends, its being warping painfully as sparks fall from the universe. There’s a small click after the force, before it too is gone.

Then it is just the voice box, crackling and twisting as it lets out a constant:

“Shhhhh—”

—

There are many reboots before Techno falls back into himself, like a slightly too large hand forcing on a glove. The skin— His skin is covered in a thousand throbbing needle points, the constant input of sensory information making his parts feel a bit too warm.

Regardless, his eyelids finally slide open and he’s met with the sight of a ceiling and the feeling of his body holding him.

Techno doesn’t notice the person beside him until they speak up.

“Are you awake?” Techno looks to the side and sees the mechanic’s—Phil, his memory pulls up—face. It is heavily lined and stares at him hard.

“Yes.”

Phil tilts his head to the side, staring so hard that it makes Techno want to look away. He is a mechanic after all, perhaps it is in his nature to want to dissect Techno in any sort of way.

“Why did you come here?” Phil asks. It makes Techno’s brows push together. Didn’t he answer this before?

“To bring you Ranboo.”

“Why?” The question pulls a sigh unbidden from his chest. Techno rubs a hand against his forehead, only now realizing that he is not tied down and is instead lying on the floor. Very slowly, he sits up.

“He was sick. I didn’t have medicine and he would die without it,” Techno explains. “I assumed you’d have doctors.”

“Even if you came here in good will, we would kill you. Handing yourself over is a death sentence.”

“I know.” Techno’s voice box holds steady with the words. Because it’s true. But if he didn’t, then Ranboo would die. And then… Techno doesn’t know. It makes his mind shake.

Phil hums slightly before sitting back slightly, seemingly thinking. “It seems like you don’t have a prerogative to kill humans. Or at least humans without discrimination. Your code is so mixed up, it was almost impossible to parse through, even more so than most AI. But it makes me think that this isn’t some ploy to kill us all later.”

Techno just shrugs, which makes Phil let out a morbid sort of snort.

“... I’ve known about your settlement for over a year. It’s why I brought Ranboo here,” Techno admits slowly. Phil squints hard at him, switching back to something sharp just as quickly.

“Do other androids know about it?” Phil asks.

“Not that I know of, but it’s not like I’ve talked to any. I don’t know where this is exactly, just where you patrol. They might know that.” Phil sighs but nods, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“Right, okay.” Techno looks down at his hands and finds his wrists bound in bandages and tape. It’s kind of funny, except that it noticeably helps with the shocks. “Does the baby always cry so much?”

The question pulls Techno’s mind right away, face snapping up. “No. That’s how I knew he was sick. Ranboo’s really good. Quiet.”

Phil frowns at the words before he seems to think a bit. “Ranboo… That’s his name?”

“Yes.” Techno doesn’t know if he had a name before, but it’s the only thing anyone calls him anymore. It might not be very good, but he likes it.

“... Do you have a name?” Phil asks. It surprises Techno. That’s not something you ask androids.

“Yes.” His short answer makes Phil raise an eyebrow which pulls at the edges of Techno’s lips a bit. “Techno.”

“Original,” Phil snarks, which Techno rolls his eyes at. He came up with his name a while ago, it was a big deal back then. “Shit, you look so human it’s creepy.”

“Sorry.”

It’s quiet for a little while. Techno takes the time to poke at his ankles, finding them bound tightly. The structural parts are definitely broken, but it’s better than nothing.

“Did you want to see the baby? Ranboo?”

“Yes,” Techno answers immediately. His brain spins at the thought. Phil stares at him for a bit longer before giving a short nod and standing. Techno is quick to follow.

“He’s with Niki right now. I don’t know if you remember meeting her. You scared her half to death.”

“Sorry. Ranboo was crying.” Techno doesn’t feel too sorry, though if Niki is the human that spends some time caring for Ranboo then he probably should be. He wouldn’t want to risk Ranboo’s place here over something dumb.

“Yeah, he’s been doing that a lot.”

It need not be said, as the crying becomes obvious as they walk through the halls. It makes Techno’s chest pinch and he has to hold himself back and stay behind Phil.

The human from before, Niki, rocks Ranboo in her arms, obviously trying to soothe him despite his continued screaming. It’s obvious that the continued noise is getting to her, the same way it seems to eat through Techno’s brain and melt hotly in the middle. Still, she shushes him gently.

Upon their entrance, Niki turns to look at them, eyes widening as she looks at Techno. She pauses in her actions, body stiff and arms going tight around Ranboo. Techno runs his fingertips over his pants despite the feedback it causes.

It’s obvious when Ranboo manages to catch a glimpse of them. Or more accurately, of Techno. He rears his head back before letting out an ear shattering screech that makes Techno’s ears click down slightly against his will. Niki and Phil both wince as Ranboo arches his back angrily with his cries.

Techno holds his arms out towards the boy, who returns the gesture much more desperately. Niki turns away from him slightly, eyes moving over to Phil.

“Phil?” She asks, sounding skeptical. Phil just sighs and shakes his head.

“It’s okay.”

Very slowly, Niki steps closer to them. She pauses before Techno, giving Phil a sharp look before turning back to Techno when he nods. Ranboo practically falls into Techno’s arms with how the boy scrabbles for him, but Techno’s quick to adjust his weight and keep his arms secure.

For a couple seconds, Ranboo’s cries seem to grow even louder. They’re so full of anguish and pain that it Techno feels his eyes slide closed against his will. But then he slowly starts to quiet, still whimpering and whining, but his throat sounds less like it’s being torn apart.

Both of the human’s shoulders relax slightly at the decrease in noise.

Techno slowly adjusts Ranboo onto his hip, less of a dire embrace. Ranboo lets out a small squeaky noise but falls quiet when Techno doesn’t stop holding him. His wide eyes blink up at Techno, still watery and irritated from his constant crying. There’s small streaks over his skin where it was rubbed raw by the salty tears. Techno reaches up to his face and lightly wipes away the moisture, doing his best not to irritate his skin further.

The boy coos lightly, sounding congested still. Techno gives him a small smile before going back to bouncing him.

“Where’d you learn how to take care of a baby?” Niki asks, seemingly a bit more relaxed now that he hasn’t tried to hurt Ranboo or anything.

“Books,” Techno answers. That gets a few raised eyebrows, but they’re a perfectly good source of information. Not like he can tap into the internet anymore.

Ranboo presses his face against Techno’s collar bone, fingers still wrapped tight in his shirt. Techno lets himself fall still as the boy’s exhaustion catches up to him. His eyelids flutter over and over, trying to fight sleep, before being pulled down regardless.

“It seems like he likes you,” Niki says, face calculating.

“I guess so…” Ranboos wheezing breaths are a familiar noise, so close to his ear. It makes him feel like something is unclasping in his chest.

“I’m assuming your tracker stuff is off?” Phil asks. Techno nods, because he assumes so as well. Having a random android roaming around without any problem taking out other androids probably wouldn’t be allowed if they knew where he was. “Well… How about we work something out, where we can help each other.”

“If you help keep Ranboo safe then I’ll help you however I can.” Both of the humans stare at him hard, but Techno just lets them.

“Alright… I think we should talk more later.” Techno just nods in agreement, adjusting his arms as Ranboo moves a bit.

The humans speak to each other in hushed tones for a while longer before Niki turns and leaves the room. Phil pulls out a tablet and starts working on it, sitting on the ground. Slowly, Techno walks over to the chair in the corner and sits down. The chair rocks slightly, which is probably something that babies like.

Ranboo’s stuffed bear is shoved to the corner of the crib. Techno picks it up and sets it within Ranboo’s arms. He doesn’t really respond, but that tends to be a good thing when babies are sleeping as far as Techno knows.

The feeling of eyes on him are obvious. The building is filled with faint noises of people that Techno doesn’t know or trust. But even so, Ranboo is finally quiet and sleeping, cheeks full and fading of the harsh redness.

Techno rubs circles on the boy’s back while rocking in the chair, holding him to his chest while letting his eyes fall closed.