Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fuck” Tommy basically breathes out trying to force his way through the endless amounts of snow of the biome. His entire body is numb at this point, he's been walking for what feels like weeks that was only a day or 2 short of a week. The already torn up white shirt with red short sleeves doing absolutely nothing to stop the cold from seeping straight through him to his very core, the only thing sort of helping is his brown coat adorned with his own embroidery of his flag. Well not really his coat. Wil’s coat. But.. well it's better not to think about it. The cold is painful. It feels as though every numb step he takes is on pins and is in what he’s only guessing is where his older brother lives.

He should just turn back, Dream was the only one who really cared, he said so himself. Why is he even leaving? Maybe he was just looking out for him when he burnt his things, or starved him. What was he even expecting to find? He knows Techno hates him, why else would he have basically abandoned him along with Phil? Best case scenario he shows up at the front door and gets immediately killed.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. But he tries not to think about that, focusing more on the pain his numb dry skin is causing him.

Looking up he actually sees it. That has to be it. The Blade’s house. He sees a horse out front, how is he not freezing to death? The house has a small stable like structure in the front and stairs on the right side leading up to what he assumes to be the front door of the house, the spruce wood is nice, it looks so nice, so much more homey then his sucky tent.

No light though. Is it..? Is he not home?

This is perfect! Honestly the best situation he could have been put into, he’ll find a place to hide, and just camp out till he figures out what's next. Yeah.. that should work.

He opens the door to be greeted with the cold emptiness of the house, it's warmer than outside with the walls breaking up the harsh snowy winds, but not that much of an improvement. It’ll have to do. He immediately starts searching, rummaging through nearly everything, taking some gapples and steak, he won’t even notice they're gone, the man has so many riches he won’t bat an eye at a stack or two of steak or gapples missing from his assortment of chests.

He sets everything he’s decided to take down before clawing at the floorboards near animalistically, moving the large carpet in the center of the living room space scrounging for any loose pieces, anything he can move, its starting to dawn on him he really doesn’t know how much time he has as he rushes to find a hiding spot.

Finally ripping up a wooden plank he starts to tear up the surrounding ones and dig down with some stolen tools, the dirt piles under his fingernails as he creates a sort of burrow for himself, after about an hour of being here he’s already accomplished two things, stealing food, and making a hiding spot, those are accomplishments, at least something to be happy about, the thought of Dream and how he’ll react to finding Tommy’s run away are grappling the back of his mind, attempting to crawl their way to the forefront of it.

Dream will miss him, he needs Dream, no one else cares, he’s going to get killed here. He’s going to be murdered without a second thought. What has he done, why did he do this? He looks up at the small opening he left himself to crawl in and out of the space he made, specifically where the planks were torn out. Technoblade would be so mad. If he wasn’t dead before he surely is now. Why did he think it was a good idea to come here? He knew how it would end up, why did he think otherwise? Why was he so stupid? Philza doesn’t want him anymore he’s made that clear enough, and his little favourite child Techno won't care anymore than Phil does whether he lives or dies. He hates them. He's declared it now in his own head. He hates them just as much as they hate him. So it’s reciprocated. He won’t be some weak kid desperate for validation, yeah, he hates them for abandoning him, for leaving him to suffer in exile, for going off on their own together after Wilbur died, the only one who actually had any sort of care for him.

A droplet of salty water hits his knee that's curled up to his chest and he immediately throws his hands up to wipe away the tears falling without his permission, hitting his face more than wiping them away, something that only makes them come faster, he’s cold, bruised, battered and bound to die sooner or later to the hands of his own older brother.

He can’t stop despite how pathetic he feels. Everything’s starting to hurt all at once and he lets his head fall back against the hard dirt as his sobs choke up in his throat.

Pathetic. Dream was right, god why hadn’t that tower worked? Why couldn’t he of just splatted to the ground into a bloody mess right then and there, then he wouldn’t be here, he wouldn’t have ruined his big brothers home, maybe if it had worked Tubbo would be relieved, if it had worked Dream would surely be happy, Phil and Techno wouldn't bat an eye.

Wilbur would be disappointed.

That’s why he’s here.

He manages to fall asleep, more out of pure exhaustion than any actual attempt to sleep, especially curled up under the floorboards of Techno’s house, he can't even guarantee he’ll wake up in the morning if Techno finds him sleeping. But nonetheless he falls asleep.

_____

Waking up he’s greeted to the day by the sound and vibrations of heavy footsteps, Technoblade is home.

Fear instantly swallows him whole and he almost gasps as he covers his mouth, his eyes going wide as he instantly freezes into place, not making a noise. He can feel the ache in his back from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position but it’s the least of his concerns at the moment. After a while he takes his hand from his mouth and stares at it for a few moments before getting used to his situation. He hasn’t been found yet, that's good.

Once Technoblade’s gone upstairs to his room he tries to take a bit of the grapple he stole. The feeling of the food in his mouth is uncomfortable, his teeth feel oddly numb, and the grapple colder than him somehow. Swallowing the piece he bit off makes him nauseous. He feels it in his stomach. It’s disgusting. He doesn’t have room to throw it up, and he surely doesn't want to live in his own puke. He’s forced to live with the feeling of that bite in his stomach, dizzying him.

Staring at the wall gave him plenty of time to think. Too much honestly. He can’t seem to form an opinion of anyone at the moment. His mind is everywhere, like waves crashing down over and over without an end in sight, going through high and low tides over the hours he spends staring at the dirt, at his own two hands, every mark on them, every line, and occasionally burying his face into Wilbur’s jacket whenever everything gets two overwhelming.

It’s been a while, he hasn’t heard any noises since he heard the pig go upstairs, maybe it's night time? It’d be a huge risk, but after so much time with the dirt wall the risk is less of a risk and more of a really good sounding option.

He slowly crawls out of his borrow, seeing the house again, the fireplace still has a bit of smoke coming from it, he wanders a bit; the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, every hallway, making note of the layout, for when he only has footsteps to listen to.

The ladder catches his eye, a wooden ladder, leading up to a hatch, leading up to his bedroom. He stares at it, thinking. Thinking wasn’t good for Tommy; it never has been. But in this moment all the boy has to do is think. He stares at the ladder like it's hypnotizing him. He could go up. What’s stopping him, really? He could see the Blade again. If he’s still awake Tommy knows he’s as good as dead, he can’t help but imagine it. I mean, he’s already died to dream many, many times. He’s almost numb to it. But his big brother? What would he feel? Betrayal? Sadness? Nothing at all?

Before he knows it he’s climbing up the ladder, what does he have left to lose when he really thinks about it? His cold hands prick as he climbs the ladder, his coat still on him, the only real thing of value he holds dearly to him, the one thing he couldn’t live without.

Carefully undoing the small lock on the hatch he pushes it up before climbing the rest of the way.

And there he is. The man himself. He stares down at him, the piglin sleeping in the small attic room on a comfortable looking bed, with so many blankets. He looks so warm. Peaceful even, laying there all comfortable without a care in the world, his long pink hair braided neatly and taken care of, he missed braiding Techno’s hair. A part of him softens. He missed him. A lot. But as he said earlier, he hates him, he hates him for hating and abandoning him. So he ignores the part of him that wants to crawl into his older brother’s bed and fall asleep with the comfort of him beside him.

His fists curl up so much so his nails start to cut into the skin of his hand. He hates him. He hates him. He has to hate him.

He stands there for who knows how long until he sees the Blade adjust in his sleep. That snapped him out of his thoughts very quickly.

He quietly descends the ladder, locking up the hatch and making his way back to his borrow, catching a glimpse of the snow storm still progressing outside. He hides himself away and tries to take another bite of the apple, it's almost worse than last time, his stomach completely cramps up to the point that he feels uncomfortably paralyzed in place. He doesn’t get much sleep that night.

Days pass with the same routine, rot in his borrow until he hears Technoblade’s footsteps go up the ladder to go to sleep, sneak out, steal things randomly, and on occasion watch his older brother sleep. And of course eavesdrop on the conversation he hears above him at the moment.

“Phil” A gruff voice above his borrow is so loud compared to the silence he’s endured recently. That must be Technoblade, god he hasn’t heard that voice in forever, he didn’t recognize it at first.

“Techno mate, sorry I took so long”

His dads voice responds. He immediately freezes, so many emotions running through him at once.

The two continue to talk and Tommy misses bits and pieces of it. Bad news. Techno noticed his things disappearing. Fuck.

His head feels like it's about to explode, more like burn into ash and become one with the dirt surrounding and covering him, he’s going to get caught. He knows it. He barely pays attention to much else of the conversation until he notices the lack of it, Philza must have gone back to his connected home just across from here.

He’s completely lost in endless thoughts, piling on top of each other and confusing him, mixtures of everything blurring together.

“Tommy?” Hearing his name he shudders and looks up at the entrance to his borrow, being infiltrated by the Blood God himself, his blood red eyes do nothing but scare Tommy even further.

“BITCH!” Random curses come out as he curls up deeper into his burrow, curling away from the Blood God, fear in his eyes as his defenselessness becomes more prominent to him than ever.

“Tommy, what are you doing in my house.” He asks, as monotone as he remembers. Tommy’s breathing is so erratic it’s painful for him to even breathe, he can’t form a response.

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait, please, please, I can explain, it’s not what it looks like, please” He pleads, sounding horrifically desperate, he scolds himself for it as he realizes he’s still very much surrounded by all the stolen items.

He’s suddenly lifted out of his borrow by force, he tries to claw back and hold himself down but almost as if it's nothing he’s dragged out.

“Prime, you look horrible” Techno says inspecting Tommy. He’s incredibly skinny, beat up, and dirty.

“No need to rub it in, prick” Tommy replies, still trying to escape the man's grip unsuccessfully. His actions do not at all show the turmoil tumbling through him. Why hasn’t he killed him yet?

“Good to see you haven't changed too much.” The piglin comments.

“Still, why are you in my house.” He repeats himself.

“How are you.” Tommy says instantly changing the subject in a very Tommy like fashion.

“Why are you in my house, Tommy”

"HOW ARE YOU?!"

“Tommy, why are you here buried in my walls like a raccoon?”

“I'm not a raccoon!!”

"What are you doing in my house, Tommy!"

"YOU. ARE. A. BITCH!"

“And why do you look like that?”

“Fuck off!”

“Answer me.”

Tommys shook by his shoulders and the fear comes back to him, the fear that's been building up since he originally left Exile.

“I said: Fuck off!” He says, avoiding the look in his eyes, he hates it. Why is he acting like this?

He can’t manage to voice out his anger and further, just nodding as Techno grumbles.

“Come on, get up, go wash yourself up” Techno says after a few moments, looking down at him pitifully in a way. If there was anything TommyInnit was, it was NOT pitiful, his eyebrows furrow together as a weird sense of normality comes over him although this situation is anything but normal.

“Fuck you!” He says quickly before listening to him anyway and going off to the bathroom to bathe, mostly due to the fact he wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. He also really hadn’t washed himself in far too long, looking closer at his body he only now realizes how skinny he really is, almost all of his ribs show, and his skin has a weird paleness to it, almost sickly though he’s sure he’s not sick. Various scars and bruises decorate his body, some from the disc war, when he was a part of L’manburg, to Dreams abuse and many other occasions, he can’t recall where he got each individual one, as much as he wishes he could recall the story behind each and every one of them.

Knock knock The door opens a crack and a hand slips through, holding out some of technos clothing for him, he takes it and puts it on, it's rather big on him, but better than nothing, though despite all he puts Wilbur’s coat right back on.

He steps out to find the fireplace lit, much more homey than he’s been seeing it, especially with Technoblade sitting on his couch like it’s no big deal that his little brother has just made an appearance out of nowhere after scavenging from his chests for weeks and living under his floorboards like a raccoon. Or maybe he is stressed, internally that is, he never really did show any emotions besides the one dead serious look he’s constantly had since Tommy can remember. Meekly he approaches him, sitting on the same sofa but far apart.

“Why do you hate me?” Tommy asks, confused with everything at the moment, this amount of vulnerability is making him light headed, he’s almost starting to feel genuinely sick, his body rapidly heating up after becoming so well adjusted to the cold.

“I don’t.” Techno responds, looking over at him as deadpan as always.

“Stop fuckin’ pitying me” He suddenly bursts out again to cover the small bit of vulnerability he uncovered in asking such a stupid question.

“I don’t pity anyone” He replies plainly.

“Well then stop looking at me like that! Your acting as if everything that’s happened to me after Wilbur died wasn’t a direct result of you and Phil leaving me!” He nearly shouts, somehow finding the energy.

“Theseus, calm down-”

A spark hits the front of his brain like a flick to the forehead, a soft emotion hits him.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Chapter Text

“Why do I even try?” Technoblade says plainly, barely putting any tone into what he says.

“Just go and take the guest room, to the left of the hall, although I'm sure you already know that.” Tommy in fact didn’t know that. How could he miss a detail like an extra room?

Standing up without a word he walks down the hall, then to the left, and is greeted with a hefty door, much like the others in the house. Seriously.. How did he miss this? He looks back to techno thoroughly confused but the piglin pays no mind to him as he pushes the door open to a small lofty bedroom, old and it definitely hasn’t been used in a hot second, but nicer than what he’s had, and that he’s at least grateful for.

—----------

Pounding on the door jolted him from his thoughts, Techno opens the door to peek his piglin head in.

“Come to the table for dinner”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!? Mumza??”

“Just get over here” He says insistently, there's no way he’s getting out of this that doesn’t end poorly.

“I hate you.” He declares boldly, leaving the bedroom and keeping his beloved coat tucked away in a good hiding spot under more torn up planks under his new bed.

Sitting at the table he’s faced with a plate of food in front of him, oh.

He stares down at it, plays around with it with his fork, just the sight is repulsive, the smell is even worse.

“Tommy, eat.”

“Tommy c’mon”

“Tommy?”

Tommy’s torn away from his staring by Techno’s insistent noise. He looks up at the pink haired piglin, feeling tears brimming his eyes with little pricks, threatening to fall at any moment. The world feels like it’s paused for a moment.

His older brother's concerned look is back, why be concerned over someone you hate? The hate is mutual, mutually non-existent, but prevalently true in Tommy’s mind. The fireplace burns near them, they’re separated by the table and the plates in front of them, Technoblade’s empty, Tommy’s untouched. Techno just stares at him, staring at him judging him, he just knows it.

Tears fall, one, by one, by one, and he doesn’t do anything to stop them as he stares at Techno, barely aware of them trailing down his cheeks from his ocean blue eyes in the first place.

He feels the side of his face held up by Technoblade's warm, soft hand, almost bigger than his whole face.

“Tommy, maybe you should get some sleep” Techno’s voice makes everything come back to him, he feels the burning of his eyes, the quickness of his breath, the comfort of Techno’s hand holding his face.

“No! Nonono, I'm fine.” He ushers as soon as he realizes his position, scraping his tears away with his arms, He can’t let himself be like this.

“Tommy, seriously-” Techno continues.

“I’m fine.” He cuts him off, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding his face, finding it difficult to not lean into the gentle touch of which he hadn’t felt in years.

“Please just let go” He says through sobs building up in his chest. Technoblade pulls his hand away enough for Tommy to make a dash to his new bedroom, leaving his full dinner plate there.

Technoblade is pitying him, he has to be, no, he’s waiting for a weak enough spot to break him, or maybe he’s already sent a letter out to Dream to come fetch him and he’s only keeping up this facade for Tommy to think of him as good, the self centered prick. That’s the only option. He’s made it crystal clear that neither he nor Dad want anything to do with him anymore, they gave him up, they don't want him, why won’t Techno just hate him? He desperately needs a reason to hate the pig prick other than the fact he’s acting like nothing happened, that everything would instantly go back to normal. He hates him for that. If he hates Technoblade, Technoblade can hate him all he likes.

God why does he have to act like he cares it just fucks everything up so much more than it already is.

—---------------

Knock knock He’s awoken from his miserable heep on his bed by a much gentler knocking on the door of his temporary home scenario.

Before he knows it a few moments later Technoblade opens the door, approaching him with caution in his step. Why is he acting like Tommy’s some baby, Technoblade is THE Blood God for primes sake, why is he walking towards him so warrily. It’s unnerving in a way, he’s never seen this much emotion from the blade. Not that he can discern the emotion he’s showing, but still, he can tell it’s more emotion than his deadly constantly annoyed stare and monotone quips.

He watches him come closer, moving back a bit as he does.

Techno just silently stares down at him with that weird emotion filled look, before brushing his hand through the boy's hair, carding his fingers through the tangled short golden locks, is he trying to comfort him? Trick him? What is he doing? Tommy’s too confused and content with the feeling to move from his position, moving more to lean into the blood gods hand.

“I'm making breakfast. You’ll have some.” Technoblade says awkwardly almost, like he’s trying to help, but doesn’t quite know how.

The thought of breakfast is disgusting, but he's so hungry at the same time. He guesses it’s okay to play into this, because he hates him and all, he knows Techno is just waiting for the perfect moment to get close enough to actually hurt him. But, he hates him, so there’s no way he’ll ever get close enough for that to happen.

“I hate you.” He says it aloud just for good measure, to flaunt that Techno’s plan to get close to him then betray him won’t work, that this act of caring is seen right through, the pig just seems slightly hurt but leaves anyway to go make breakfast.

If Tommy didn’t see straight through his plan to break his heart and then be rid of him he would have believed that hurt look was genuine, it looked so genuine, he’d never seen anything like it on Techno’s face.

After a good while he pushes himself off of his bed and makes sure Wilbur’s jacket is still there and safe before wandering out of his room silently, trying his best to avoid the little creaky spots in the floorboards he had either heard while listening to Techno walk above him, or found while he was searching for a place to hide. Peeking around a corner he sees Technoblade cooking, standing above the controlled fire heating the pan he’s using, the smell of pancakes is so alluring yet vomit-inducing.

Sitting himself at the table in the same seat he had before, the one closer to the odd tall clock that he’s not sure if the times are right on. He remembers that clock, it used to be at home, near the entrance way, with Phil and Mumza in the bedroom upstairs, Techno with his own room, and Wilbur and him on a bunk bed together in their own room. The lack of that warmth becomes easy to feel when he focuses on it.

A plate of pancakes is placed in front of him and he attempts this time, picking up his fork and taking off a piece of the food, before carefully chewing it, and swallowing. He takes a few more bites, doing the best he can before he starts to feel nauseous.

The bits of food that he did eat feel uncomfortable in his stomach, like his body is rejecting it.

But there’s much he can do about it besides complain, which he would rather die than do, he’s a big man after all, big men don’t cry, especially over eating of all things.

“Is it good?” Techno asks almost carefully.

“Stop talking to me like that, prime, this whole time you’ve been acting like a wrong’un”

A beat passes

“I’m just worried.”

What? Worried? He doesn’t need to be worried about, he doesn’t deserve people who worry about him, why would anyone do that? He keeps bringing up the point again and again in his mind that Techno abandoned him, but still he can’t understand his reasoning behind it if not a plan for his failure.

His eyebrows furrowed together after processing the words, and he recoils in something almost like offense.

“No you’re not.” He says like he’s trying to call the other out, like he’s expecting Technoblade to admit to lying and go on a speech about his loathing for Tommy on the spot

“Yes, I am.” His hands go up like it’s obvious that what he stated was fact and impossible to be disproven in any way, and that questioning its falsehood was stupid, to put in bluntly.

”Don’t lie to me, bitch!” Tommy says still looking right at him, his tone raising a pitch or so as Tommyinnit’s opinions are always the best and most correct ones.

The piglin sighs in a way that sounds much more exasperated than the previous times over the past days, rubbing his temple with the tips of his fingers like he had always done as kids when Tommy was extra headache inducing.

He scoffs in response to this reaction.

“Don’t get all annoyed with me, bitch!” Okay that ‘bitch’ felt forced but what was Tommy without excessive cursing just for the sake of cursing? A stupid idiot small bitch boy or something like his bee lover best friend, well ex best friend, well enemy.

That’s not a spiral Tommy is willing to circle down at the moment.

They both sit in silence that borders thin on the line between awkward and comfortable, there’s many words between them left unsaid that both boys are too proud to communicate, but for some strange reason the pink haired maniac’s presence brought him comfort, whether it be the after affects of what he’s already convinced himself was a dream, or just for the simple fact of the years they spent together in childhoods, there’s an odd air of comfort.

Nope, Tommy knows what it is, it has to be the mutual hate between them that makes them not care what the other thinks, therefore imitating a comforting feeling.

He’s a genius, no need to applaud.

Okay maybe applaud.

Thank you.

It’s getting more and more difficult to convince himself Technoblade hates him, honestly since his ‘dream’ and yesterday's concern even he himself calls bullshit every time he thinks about ulterior hateful reasons he’s doing the things he does.

Of course he could ignore all that and pretend the Blade hates him anyway.

Well I guess that would be stupid, but it’s just for now, one small hateful act and he’s done, even a slightly annoyed look and Tommy’s slight faith will snap on half quicker than he snaps on him in anger at himself for ever giving him that faith in the first place.

I guess that means he only slightly hates him, just in case.

The psychopath pig looks like he’s trying to articulate something, his blood red eyes looking up and to the left and everyone once in a while his lips subconsciously mouth the drafts of what he wants to say.

“I’m proud of you for eating that bit.” He says incredibly stiffly, listening over to the words in his head a few times to make sure that was the right choice

A part of Tommy melts. A part of him buried under layers of years, a part of him from when he barely remembers, the desperate need to hear those words come from Techno’s mouth The uncaring cold brother that only used to seem to have a soft spot for him.

He missed being the reason people called Techno clingy and accused him of being tough despite his gruff exterior.

It’s quite the feat to do that to the blood god, pretty impressive, but average for the amazing Tommyinnit of course.

“Shut up.” He mumbles barely audibly, trying to deflect both his feelings and Technoblade’s all at once.

“You wanna tell me why you’re here yet?” Techno asks.

“No.” He answers simply, not quite harshly, more being genuine in the fact that he just couldn’t, afterall he still hasn’t made up his mind on the man yet, going back and forth so often it’s better to not say anything so he can’t regret it. He really couldn’t talk about Dream even if he wanted to, being completely honest, his words would stutter and shake until they decompose into pathetic sobs that he absolutely refuses to let out no matter how pent up they are, stowed away behind his eyes.

Suddenly a knock on the door, multiple knocks, pounding, hash knocks, on the front door of the cabin.

“Phil?” Techno mutters getting up to answer it, at the mention of the name Tommy stands up from his seat, not processing it fast enough to jolt up and find somewhere to hide, but instead at a normal pace hiding behind some chests, not an amazing hiding spot but its the best he can do with the pace Technoblade is walking to open the door at. He hasn’t seen his dad in a while, and it honestly slipped his mind for a few days that his dad usually lived right beside Technoblade, his favorite son and best friend. Maybe he had been on some kind of trip or something? Either way he’s here and Tommy is not at all ready to have to face the man face to face, he doesn’t want to see his large crow-like wings or soft blue eyes and much less his warm features that look nothing like the face of a man who abandoned his child.

The door opens,

…

Dream?

Memories and phantom pains of his deaths, all the times he was killed then revived, every ounce of fear he had to give for himself was put into overdrive at the moment. If he thought he was dead before he’s surely dead now.

He hears murmurs of a conversation and feels every footstep the man takes, too focused on his fear to even look up at his tormentor now perusing around his big brother's house and the place he’s staying. Dream had been searching for him, maybe he did care, even if he wanted to stand up and reveal himself his body, still perpetualized in fear, wouldn’t allow him to move a single muscle, putting all the energy into his ever speeding heartbeat.

He feels invisible bruises forming everywhere, his body zeroing in on the false sensations covering his existence, inside and out, from head to toe.

“Oh, yeah yea, ‘You wouldn’t know my house, it goes to another school’” Technoblade mocks Dream who has his smiling mask tightly secured to his face.

“I HAVE A HOUSE!” The green man shouts back, obviously very bothered by the teasing which only seems to encourage the Blade to continue.

“Sureeee you do, scrub off to your house then, Dream”

“I know Tommy’s here.”

Tommy, if not scared to his very core already is now one foot into his grave, drowning in salty sea water would be less painful then what he’ll be made to experience if Dream spots him from behind these few chests.

“Told ya he’s not, now off my property before I decide you’re picking a fight.” Technoblade says in a gruff threatening voice, one that obviously seems to put Dream off a bit as their last real battle with incredibly high stakes, more than your average person could ever come close to putting on the line and having the opportunity to achieve, Technoblade had won. Leaving a fat blot on Dreams dignity and reputation as the sequence of arena fights were watched by many.

“Fine, but I swear-” He cuts himself off and turns, leaving.

A few moments pass as Techno watches him walk out into the snowy biome he calls home, letting a creeper blow up part of his land.

"MY REAL ESTATE VALUE!" Techno complains, pointing out the window as dream doesn't bother to fill the exploded patch and walks off.

Once Dream's out of sight Technoblade closes the wooden blinds of his front window and turns to Tommy's hiding spot behind a few chests.

“Tommy? Why the fuck did Dream come here looking for you?”

He can’t even find the words to respond at the moment, just staring blankly as if in denial he’s even alive right now with how much and how often he’s believed with his full heart that he was destined to die in the near future.

He sees Techno curl up his fist, he’s definitely annoyed with the younger boy but is rational enough at the current moment to realize getting mad will get him less answers than being patient, something the Blood God has not been known to be good at.

“I assumed by you hiding the second the door knocked you weren’t too keen on whoever was out there to know you’re here, you're lucky I noticed, if I was any stupider you'd be stuck with him, presumably again, which is presumably why you ran away here.” He says, guessing pretty easily after that interaction why Tommy's been acting the way he is, but at the moment his mind only considers it speculation.

“Come on, get up” After a few moments he says grabbing Tommy’s wrist and lifting his entire being by it to put them on eye level-ish.

“You look like you’ve seen some sh-.. stuff.’ Technoblade comments referring to the dullness of his usual radiant ocean blue eyes, and censoring himself as he usually does, recovering from his slight outburst.

“You don’t even know” He sighs, rubbing his forehead to try to escape the handcuffs his brain has placed on top of him.

"So it was Dream then, Dream is why you're here?" He asks despite already stating that a second ago, Tommy can't do anything but silently nod slightly, not giving any explanation of any sort.

Once thats confirmed Dream's fate was basically sealed, the realization Tommy's obvious signs of some kind of eating disorder, his emotional state, just everything, never had he ever seen or expected to see his brother in this state, and to find out it's DREAM'S doing? Absolutely not.

Chapter Text

The world is still weighing heavily on Tommy’s shoulders, he doesn’t want to mention or even begin to think about the fact that Philza could walk through that door at any moment, and he’s not sure if Techno has any idea he’d rather die than see their dad.

The routine is the same, wake up, walk through the hall to see Techno already awake and making breakfast, eat less than a few bites of it before he can’t anymore, look at Techno’s concerned look, then find ways to kill time, like chopping the wood Techno hasn’t gotten around too yet while keeping out of view from Philza’s house, or begrudgingly read one of the books Techno has lying around despite complaining about it at every chance he gets, though Techno always seems happy whenever he sees him reading the first thing he saw, “The Art of War.” He finds it interesting enough and reading it he’s starting to realize just how often Techno really quotes the book, you’d think he’d had the whole thing memorized.

Other than being nearly lost for things to fill in the time between Techno’s three mandatory meals for him things haven't been that bad other than the slight paranoia at times that Dream is waiting, spying, just waiting for him to reveal himself. Every few days Technoblade takes his horse, who he now knows is named Carl, to some unknown place, and returns with an odd scent of copper attached to him that Tommy doesn’t really mind. Though he’s normally incredibly nosey even he knows it’s best to not question the man, but that doesn’t mean following him would hurt.

So there he is, he has been searching for something entertaining to do, and following the mysterious Technoblade out to wherever he’s going seems like plenty of fun.

He throws one of Techno’s older capes over his shoulders and ties it’s bow, the cape was too small on Techno now but he still drowned in it. The scent of Technoblade is oddly comforting in a way, metallic scent and all, the emotions aren't as intense as when he wears Wilbur’s coat, which he wears sparingly as to keep his scent till there.

He watches through the window as Technoblade mounts Carl and trots off, the second he leaves Tommy quickly follows after, following the tracks of the horse as best he can, praying he doesn't lose them with the snow never seeming to stop burying the land. It’s freezing, but not as cold as when he first came here, in all honesty, looking around every once in a while, if he did lose Techno’s tracks he’s be completely and utterly lost, he can’t even begin to imagine the direction he would have to take to go back to his tent and with Dream.

Eventually, panting with the cold air twinging at his lungs, he sees Carl with techno’s cape over his back, then Techno… what? No, no, this isn’t real, he’s imagining things. Before he can get out any more than a gasp he hides behind the nearest tree, he covers his mouth and sinks into the snow, holding his knees to his chest.

It’s a fucking blood bath.

He knew his big brother was a murderer, he knew about the whole “Blood god” thing and heard faintly about ‘voices’ once or twice when he was a kid and the days he was banned from Techno’s room for the day while dad brought him food and comforted him.

He didn’t think to realize it was so real.

He peaks around the corner, his eyes incredibly wide as he stares at his brother, standing over multiple dead bodies, of people he can’t recognize partly because he might not know them, and partly from disfigurement. The snow around the people is dyed a heartless, cold, red. The same hue as Technoblades eyes.

The Blood god takes short breaths, every pant appearing as vapor in the cold air, his pig mask Tommy hadn’t seen in a while obscuring most of his face and the blood of his victims staining part of his frilled shirt, a netherite axe in hand.

Tommy stops peeking his eyes over and completely hides behind the tree, hand still clasped over his mouth as he hears Carl trotting away.

After a few minutes he gets out of his hiding spot, horse tracks leading back to Techno’s and bloody snow surrounding the dead people. He looks down at them horrified, traces of glimmer from the enchantment of his axe visible in all of their wounds.

He needs to get the fuck out of here.

Wilburs jacket. Fuck.

He starts following the horse tracks home, one by one, their faintish now but still visible. He stares down making sure he doesn't go off course as he makes his plan. Go in and pretend everything’s normal, go down the hall and to the left into the guest room, grab all of his things, which are few to none, but all that's really important is a few gapples from when he was hiding out in the floorboards, and Wilbur’s jacket. He can almost smell it right now. The faint hint of cigarette still clung to it along with the warmness Wilbur had to him, before.. Everything.

He feels his world crumbling around him, where’s he gonna go? Come on, come on, think..

Dream?

…

Maybe it's better to just fend for himself, he’s a big man after all!

Getting back to the cabin he circles around to enter the backdoor as if he was chopping wood. Technoblade is standing in the kitchen unbothered, and suddenly blood free, making a meal.

“Tommy” He gruffs acknowledging him which Tommy would usually have a better response to than the surge of fear he tries hard to hide.

Technoblade notices but doesn’t pay much mind to it as Tommy waves and speedwalks towards his room. He rummages around, grabbing his things and putting on Wilbur’s coat before grabbing the collar to inhale it's comforting scent.

A few beats pass before he puts Techno’s cape on over it, it would be cold after all, and the regal cape proved quite warm.

He leaves the room and tries to move as quietly as possible, walking to the living room, just a room away from the kitchen where Technoblade was making food for the two of them. He slips out the front door and the second he’s outside dashes towards the stable.

“Come on, come on, Carl” He pleads with the horse but it just bucks it’s head around, after a few attempts Tommy gives up and walks off on his own, step by step, towards who knows where.

—--------

It’s cold. So, so cold.

Snow falls all around him and compiles in the fluff in the thick fleece neckline of Technoblade’s cape draped over his shoulders. His skin is pale as ever from the cold aside from his rosy cheeks and knuckles, it hurts to move and so he stays in his position sitting on the ground miles away from anywhere he knows of. It’s only been a few hours since he left, but he’s already starting to regret it.

He can’t even think properly at this point, tucking his knees to his chest and feeling that already prominent feeling dread over him, the cold seeping into his skin and turning numb to the point in which he can no longer feel, to the point where his head starts to throb and no matter how he positions himself it’s impossible for it to feel any better, to the point in which he simply cannot move.

He can tell his head is still throbbing but he can’t feel it really, it’s numbed to thoroughly like he’d have to be thawed to feel anything again.

He hates Technoblade and his bloodlust, he hates his stupid pink hair, and red eyes, and most of all he hates how he couldn’t be the big brother Tommy needed him to be.

He hated how he almost let himself be fooled by his seeming care and how he seemed so indifferent to his victims' corpses. He hated everything he could think of until his thoughts froze up too.

Before he knew it Tommy’s consciousness slipped through his fingers with the last bits of his vision being a sudden black swishing through the snow before it's completely black and his consciousness had been absorbed by the cold slow he falls over into.

—--

Chapter Text

Tommy’s eyes flutter open to find himself buried in warmth and almost immediately he jolts, thrashing and pushing himself up as quickly as possible to find himself in a familiar place. The small space is barely recognizable with the light shining through the red drapes that are partially covering the single window. But it is, Technoblades room. The one he had only seen in the moonlight, and somewhere he never thought.. No, a place he never WANTED to see again. He wants to be frustrated, but he can’t help but feel uneasy, maybe it was the cold, or the fact he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him now that he had tried to run away. That bastard really dragged him all the way back to this shitty cabin.

He throws the blankets off him, rejecting the warmth they held and tensing up a bit as the cold air surrounds him, he walks to the door grabbing Technoblades cape back off the hook and over him, and trots right down the ladder towards the front door to up and leave again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Techno’s voice breaks the silence he had been adjusted to and he flinches back before slowly looking up in the direction of the voice, only to see Philza Minecraft right beside him. He looks the same as he always had, maybe a bit older, a bit more composed, and more relaxed than Tommy had ever seen him, but still wearing the same attire he always had, with Tommy’s heart embroidery still on the hem of his robe-like attire, and his large black crow like wings pressed neatly to his back behind him.

“What the FUCK are you doing here?!” Tommy immediately lashes out as if it were his own home being intruded on, walking towards the man but not getting too close.

“Tommy I-”

“NO!” Tommy says almost exasperated, cutting Philza off the moment he attempts to talk.

“Wait-”

“BITCH!” Tommy is absolutely flabbergasted not only at his father’s appearance but registering his KIDNAPPING from the forest which he had so kindly chosen to call home rather than this place with a killer pig freak and the dad, if he can even call him that, who abandoned him to Dream! Of all fucking people!

Before he can even react he’s trapped in the embrace of his father, he squirms and kicks trying to escape as he’s pressed up against the man's chest. He fights with all his power left before the sadness that had been creeping up on him overpowered him. He gives up and just stands there, not hugging his father back, but not fighting it. Once he calms Philza’s large night black wings surround him so Technoblade doesn’t see him, despite his best efforts he starts to tear up. He bites his lip, hard, to stop himself from crying, but it doesn’t quite work. He feels his eyes prickle and his brain overwhelm itself with more feelings than thoughts. He presses his head down into his dad’s shoulder to the point where it almost hurts, trying to force the tears to stay in his eyes. His tears seep through Philza’s shirt and Philza’s hand runs up and down Tommy’s back in an attempt to sooth him.
“I hate you.” Tommy whispers, shaking.

“I know.” Philza hums back.

“But I don’t want you to hate me.” He says between muffled sobs.

“I don’t.”

“Then why?”

“I had no other choice.”

“..You’re a liar.”

“I had just murdered my own son, Techno wanted me to move away to the tundra with him, you were off causing wars, I don't know what you wanted me to do, Tommy.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

Tommy takes a shaky breath.

“Love me anyway. I wanted you to love me anyway.”

A few moments later Philza lets him go, light floods back into his world as the crow wings unwrap from around him and he tears away the tears from his puffy red eyes.

He looks to Philza who’s now just standing in front of him, staring down like he’s some pitiful creature. His hand curls up into a fist at his side and he doesn’t even attempt to take control of his breathing.

He punches the man, as hard as he can, Philza winces at it slightly but doesn’t do anything to stop him. He punches him again, and again, and again, till his punches grow weak and his breathing is erratically attempting to hold back tears once again.

“Stop.” Technoblades voice booms as he feels the piglin’s hand on his shoulder, this time not as kind.

Tommy freezes in place and doesn’t look over to Technoblade, but up at his dad, who is tearing up himself now.

Tommy steps back as guided by Technoblades hand, staring at his dad, he’d never seen him as anything but stoic, and strong, much like Technoblade, he never in a million years would ever believe what he’s seeing right now.

“I’m sorry Tommy, I really- really am-.” Philza says slowly and quietly.

“Tommy, go back up to my room.” Technoblade commands, squeezing his shoulder, seemingly just as surprised at Philza’s tears as Tommy was, though hiding it much better than Tommy’s blatant look of shock and horror plastered all over his face.

With a slight push Tommy reluctantly walks over to through a small hallway to the ladder that leads up to Technoblade’s room, he climbs up step by step, puts his hand on the wooden hatch above his head to push it open, and crawls up to sit on the floor directly next to the hatch, staring at the wall directly across from him, one of the only plain wall spaces in the room, just slightly splintery wood.

He could have pressed his ear to the hatch in an attempt to listen in on the conversation, or at the very least look out the window at the constantly falling slow, or sit on the bed, or anything but stare blankly as his mind is consumed by buzzing nothingness thoughts. His eye area is sensitive from being rubbed so violently in an attempt to chase away tears, and Philza’s apology is replaying over and over again in his head.

“I’m sorry Tommy.”

—---------------

Knock Knock

“It’s a fuck’n hatch just open it.” Tommy says worn out completely, sitting on Technoblade’s bed as the hatch is pushed open.

“Theseus.” Technoblade says once he emerges from the ladder, it has only been maybe a few hours since.. Everything. But Technoblade’s voice doesn’t sound firm or blunt in anyway, more soft, but reluctant.

“I said you don't call me-”

Technoblade opens his arms as if inviting Tommy to hug him, he stands there a bit awkwardly, the blood god doesn’t do this kind of thing often of course. Tommy’s sentence cuts off as he just stares at him.

“...What are you doing over there?”

“Just come here.” Technoblade says, looking to the side as Tommy walks up cautiously and hugs him slowly, he’s much smaller compared to the blade, even more so than when compared to Philza, Techno’s embrace is comfortable, for what reason he has no clue. He can smell the faint smell of metallic blood stuck to his clothing and his skin, something the pig will never be able to wash off, and the thing that stops Tommy from getting too comfortable.

“Theseus.”

He doesn’t fight the name this time.

“What is it?” He partially mumbles.

“I know you saw.” Technoblade says bluntly which makes Tommy tense up slightly. Being so close to the blade he can hear an odd sound, whispers of voices closer to his upper chest and neck, many of them, in faint faint whispers he can’t make out.

He doesn’t respond, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity after all. He just stands there, hugging him back as Techno sighs at his lack of response.

“I would never hurt you. Just know that.” Technoblade says after a few moments.

“The pit.” He immediately says without hesitation.

“That was.. Just… I don’t know. Im..” He breathes.

“I won’t again, unless you really deserve it.” He continues. How reassuring.

They remain like that in silence for a while, Tommy calming down more and more, slowly.

“Theseus” He’s really intent on using that name, huh?

“I asked Phil to make dinner, let’s go down.” He continues, his voice not as stoic as usual.

“Please don’t make me-” Tommy says.

“...Fine. You’re not getting away with it again.” Technoblade says, waiting for Tommy to let go which he does not.

Techno sighs and lets go enough for Tommy to do the same before opening the hatch and going back downstairs to Philza Minecraft.

With the sudden absence of Technoblade and the cold harsh winter outside he takes off Wilbur's jacket, lays in Techno’s bed, and holds the Jacket like a stuffed animal of sorts, breathing in the comforting scent.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up, not in the panicked or confused states he’s been in before, this is honestly the first time he hasn’t woken up and felt the world crush back down onto him.

He lays there for a moment, appreciating the peace and quiet he has for the moment, absorbing the slightly warm air from the fireplace downstairs, the serene white light coming in from the window that's blocking out the cold of the endless terrain of snow and spruce trees reflecting the color of the light. Recalling the events of the day before is very bittersweet, though the embarrassment of it all making it a little hard to breathe is almost completely nullified by the peace that came with letting out well, everything.

Eventually, Technoblade climbs up the latter, and knocks before opening the hatch,

“Theseus, it’s lunch, come downstairs.” Technoblade gruffs, avoiding looking directly at Tommy. Tommy takes a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a moment before opening again, looking at Techno.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec big man.” Tommy says with a grin, acting as close to his normal self as possible, trying to push the moment of vulnerability out of his big brother’s mind, hoping his normal Tommy-ness will gaslight the pig into forgetting it ever happened.

“Alright, you better be.” Techno replies, climbing back down the ladder. Tommy stands up and stretches a bit. He looks down at Wilbur’s jacket on the bed, considering stashing it away, but ultimately deciding to wear it.

He climbs down the ladder and walks to the kitchen not even a yard or two away and sees Dad sitting at the kitchen table across from Techno, talking to him with a plate of food in front of both of them they’re eating, and one plate out for Tommy, with the same portion as the two men despite his habit to barely touch it.

Shuffling over, he awkwardly looks between them before sitting at his designated seat marked by the plate of food. Tommy stares down at it and breathes, focusing on it for a moment for taking a piece and eating it, twice baked potatoes, one of Technoblade’s favorites. Well, anything with potatoes in it is Technoblade’s favourite, but still.

“How’d you sleep, Toms?” Dad asked him, being slightly awkward now but at ease to some extent now that Tommy wasn’t screaming every bad word he knew at him in a fit of what seemed to be infinite rage.

“Fine.” Tommy replies simply, not wanting to say too much at the moment.

“That jacket, it’s-” Philza starts.

“It’s Wilbur’s, Phil.” Tommy says harshly.

“Yes, I know that.” Philza responds. “But how’d you get it? Take it right off his corpse once everyone left?” Philza says as if what Tommy suggested was ridiculous.

A few beats pass.

“...Basically?”

“Of course you did.” Philza sighs.

The rest of the meal carries on in silence, as Tommy finds it impossible to eavesdrop on Technoblade and Philza’s silent conversation. Tommy finds himself trying to focus on anything but what’s going on around him, floating up and around the room till he’s dragged back to his seat by Techno’s voice.

“So… uh-” Technoblade starts, obviously trying to think of something to ask him that isn’t about Dream or anything else serious. He really hasn’t even so much as seen him since he was a kid, well, more of a kid than he is now.

“Tired.” He says bluntly, brushing off Techno’s attempts to talk to him, not meaning to be rude, he’d rather silence than the blade trying to make small talk.

“Right.” Techno says in defeat. Tommy would rather have the Blade murder him here and now than being subject to this hell of tension.

Tommy goes back up to Technoblade’s room which he’s chosen to dub as his own by now immediately after he finishes picking through the food on his plate. He stares out the window for a little again before eventually getting too bored to live less than an hour later.

After sneaking down the ladder he starts to wander. He tries to be quiet but he doesn’t care if either of the bastards see him, to hell with them, anyway. He hears sounds downstairs, and lots of them. Climbing down more and more ladders he finds Technoblade feeding the many many wolves packed into the basement.

“Why the fuck do you have a bloodine of wolves in your basement.”

“Helloooo.” Technoblade turns to look at him. “Wolf army. Very useful.”

“The fuck?”

“Just trust me on this one, Theseus.” He responds matter of factly like he has an elaborate scheme that would never work out well for anyone but him. The wolves are crowded around Technoblade who’s handing out bones by the dozen to them all. A few of them walk over to Tommy and jump up onto him. It’s weird, they act more like well trained dogs than wolves. He gets knocked over quickly enough and pets the dogs while laughing a bit not only from the takedown, but the wolves licking his face.

“Need help over there?” Technoblade asks with a small chuckle to his gruff voice.

“What does it look like, idiot.” Tommy replies but good natured unlike everything else he’s said. Technoblades hand grabs Tommy’s and pulls him to his feet.

“They seem to really like you.” Technoblade says while Tommy’s now attempting to get revenge and wrestle one of the wolves who don’t do more than lightly nip him and jump around excitedly while running towards him then back away. They really do act like dogs, huh?

He continues to mess around with Technoblades army of puppies and has what he thinks is the most fun since the very beginnings of L’manburg. As the sun starts to slowly wobble its way into tipping down below the horizon line, Tommy is exhausted from laughing and running around trying to avoid getting taken down by the wolves.

“About time we head in, I didn’t anticipate taking the rest of the day to be with the wolves.” Technoblade says but not upset, Tommy had barely even noticed the bastard had been standing there the whole time.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Tommy buzzes, still having a bit of a giggle in his voice.

He sees Techno smile.

“C’mon, Technobitch, don’t get all soft on me now!” Tommy neary yells, feeling more himself than ever, really.

“Techno-bitch?” Technoblade repeats, flabbergasted.

“You heard me, now catch up!” Tommy says, still full of energy and racing towards the ladder with the wolves disappointed in not being able to chase him down and clawing at the walls around them. He quickly finds out Technoblade did intend to catch up. He's pulled back by the collar from the ladder and falls softly enough to the ground, throwing him into another fit of laughter.

“You BITCH!” He gets up and attempts to tackle Techno which only results in him getting pulled off and held in the air,

“You really are like a raccoon.” Techno deadpans with a small chuckle.

“Fuck you pig bitch.”

“It’s pig bitch now?” Techno continues to chuckle.

“The fuck you want me to call you? It's Technobitch, take it or leave it, Blade.” He says, squirming his way to freedom.

“Blade’s better than whatever you just said.” He says as Tommy finally succeeds at climbing up the ladder and Techno follows right up after. Philza is sitting in the kitchen with a smile on his face and looking away like he’s trying to hide the obvious fact that he had heard some sort of happiness from the basement.

The view of Philza ruins his mood, or at least brings him back down to reality.

“Can I see the dogs again tomorrow?” Tommy asks Techno, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“They’re wolves, Theseus. But yeah, I don’t see why not.” The Blade replies.

“Awesome.” Tommy grins. “And I finished that book, do you have anything else for me?” He never imagined he’d ever find himself asking for a book, but there are really limited ways to spend time in the middle of the tundra.

“You finished The Art of War?” Technoblade seems like he’d be beaming if he wasn’t so deadpanned all the time.

“I did, it was okay, mostly ideology stuff, but it was okay.”

“The Art of War is a masterpiece.” Technoblade corrects quickly.

“Sure. Have anything else?” He asks, ignoring the piglins huffing.

“Yeah I’ve got a little stash of books under my bed in my room, I’d assume you’d already snooped enough to find the makeshift bookshelf.”

“Yeah well I didn’t, you’re welcome.” Tommy says.

“I’ll come get you for dinner soon.” Technoblade says as Tommy climbs the ladder to Techno’s room. Just where he said it’s be, there’s a mini bookshelf under the bed. There’s less than maybe 15 books but it’s a wide enough selection for Tommy. He picks out a Greek Mythology book, it looks like the most interesting out of the many other war strategy books.

He flips around to random pages, skimming through it before committing to it.

Knock Knock

“Dinner already, Tech?” Tommy says and the hatch pushes open to reveal Philza. He uncomfortably squeezes his large crow like wings into his back to fit through the hatch.

“So not dinner.” Tommy grumbles. “What do you want from me, you already had your moment.”

“Just wanted to chat. Whatcha got there?” He says like he’s talking to a little kid.

“Don’t use that voice, bastard.”

“Fine then, What’re you reading?” Philza says, trying to keep any kind of oversaturated sweetness out of his voice.

“Some Greek shit.” He says.

“Theseus is probably in there.” Philza hums.

“I’m right fuckin here?” He says before realizing he really had accepted the nickname Technobade forced upon him.

“Fuck you.” He says in a defeated tone that does not at all match the words he uses.

Philza giggles a bit, “No, not you. Theseus is a part of Greek mythology, Techno’s into that kind of stuff, that’s why he gave you the nickname. He’s been calling you that since you were a kid I reckon.”

“Was he some badass warrior that had countless wives? Otherwise I don’t fit my namesake whatsoever.”

“Well, not quite. But he was a warrior, he slayed the minotaur in a labyrinth. It’s really quite ironic, I swear Technoblade could be a fortune teller. Theseus founded the city of Athens, which turned out to be a great city, he was then exiled from his own city and died tragically, being accepted into a new city then betrayed by someone who disguised as a friend. I always used to scold Technoblade for calling you that because I didn’t like the praying on your downfall part of comparing you to Theseus.” Philza says, sitting next to Tommy now and putting his hand on the cover of the worn book. “I don’t know all the details, my memory is slightly fuzzy, if you wanna know the full story you could probably read it yourself, or better, ask Techno about it.”

“Huh. Theseus.” Tommy looks down at his own scarred hands. The story does fit him, in some twisted way.

“DINNER!” Technoblade calls from downstairs.

“Let's go then, Toms.” Philza stands and stretches his wings out as much as he can in the small room before folding them back against his back and climbing down the ladder. Tommy follows him and finds his seat at the table.

“Is this just another potato?” Tommy asks, poking at the potato on his plate before Technoblade puts steak on all three of their plates.

“I haven't had any kind of meat in agesss!” Tommy smiles.

“I finally got around to slaughtering a cow.” Technoblade says.

“Awesome.” Tommy replies, taking a bite of the steak. Only a few seconds after down he feels his stomach hurt from the food, almost the same as how it feels when he doesn’t eat. He forces down a few more bites of steak and about half the potato before he stops.

“Tommy’s reading your mythology book, mate.” Philza mentions Techno. “I tried to explain the story of Theseus to him, not sure how well I did, though. He’s gonna turn into a mini you at this rate.”

“A MINI HIM?! PRIME NO!!!” Tommy bursts out, not totally meaning any of his ranting.

“A what?” Technoblade says, bringing his plate to the sink and putting the bone from his steak in a bag to give to the wolves tomorrow.

“IGNORE THIS LUNATIC!!!” Tommy ushers as Techno walks over to the table.

“Done?” He asks in a more quiet tone, referring to Tommy’s dinner plate. Tommy’s caught a bit off guard but nods.

“That’s a lot more than last time, I’m proud.” Techno says like he’d been rehearsing the ‘I’m proud’ part to make it sound as natural as possible coming from him. Nonetheless Tommy feels something in him escape whatever dungeon it had been locked in.

Technoblade takes away his plate while Tommy smiles uncontrollably.

For the first time in forever, maybe everything will be okay. For the first time in forever he doesn't feel like Dream is hunting him down or Ghostbur lingering over his shoulder at all times. Everything’ll be okay, here at least. Home.