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Phil was busy reorganizing his chest when they came.
It had been a normal morning, the sun just peaking over the horizon when Phil awoke, the weather slightly chilly but fairly warm. He had decided to reorganize his chest before he planned to head out for his regular routine meeting with Technoblade. There was nothing special about the meetings he and his companion had every so often, just a small check in to see how they were both holding up. It was like any other normal day in Phil's mind, but ever since he had woken up that morning there was a persistent dread that crawled up his spine, and the way his crows, who were perched on his window seals or on top of his house, cawed loud and vicious made his arms line with goosebumps. They never cawed this much or this loud.
He eventually decided to shove the thought into the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand; Organization and then meeting Techno.
Phil was almost finished with his work when the bashing of his door startled him, he whipped around, hand resting on the hilt of his sword tucked safely in its sheath, feathers ruffling with tension. The tension slightly released when he saw who it was that had entered his home. Tubbo and Quackity stood across from him, their expressions strange. Not the usual happy greeting Phil was used to, instead he was met with Quackity's furious scowl and Tubbo's nervous expression. Phil's wings still ruffle with tension even after he lowers his hand from his sword's hilt and smiles at the two.
"Hey Phil!" Quackity said, a fake smile displayed on his lips.
"Hey, um, why are you here?” He asked, "And why did you bash my door in?" Chuckling slightly as he forms a playful smile. Tubbo looks back at the door and visibly cringes, Phil ignores it as does Quackity who keeps that fake smile plastered on his face. "Well since you're not going to answer me about my door, how about you answer my other question?" he requested, as he turned back around to finish organizing his chests.
Quackity stepped closer, "Phil, we're in a bit of a dilemma on how to move forward with this situation." he said, Phil did not turn. He just continued his organization, nervous energy beginning to crawl up his throat.
"And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that?" Phil asked.
Behind him Quackity glanced at Tubbo, who suddenly straightened up and sighed sharply, all evidence of his nervousness from before gone. "Phil, you have a choice to make" Tubbo said, and at that Phil turned his smile dropping as confusion flashed in his eyes. "A choice? What kind of choice?"
"You can tell us why you betrayed L'Manberg, or you can stay silent and face the consequences." Tubbo declared, his eyes boring into Phil's own. Alongside the confusion more emotions flooded his mind, anger, hurt, betrayal.
He abandoned his chest reorganization and turned to face the two, crossing his arms while glaring, "What makes you think I betrayed L'Manberg?"
Quackity scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "You really think we haven't noticed? The way you constantly disappear for days on end. The way you walk around, like you're memorizing every detail of the ends and outs of the country. Like a spy."
Phil's chest burned with anger at the accusation, pupils forming slits in his eyes as he glared daggers at Quackity. His murder of crows sensed his displeasure and began cawing loudly at the duo, "That doesn't prove shit, mate. I didn't betray anything. Why would I betray a country I helped build back up?" His lips twisting into scowl, eyes flashing with frustration.
"We know about the meetings, Phil," Tubbo said, and the anxiety that had been crawling up his throat intensified. "What meetings?" He tried to sound confused, to play it off as them making up accusations.
"You've been conspiring with Technoblade!” Tubbo snapped, "A wanted criminal.” he said, stepping closer to Phil who raised his wings slightly. “Have you forgotten what he did that day? How much he destroyed?!"
Phil glared, rage flickering to life in his chest, "That wasn't him, it was Wilbur that blew it up!" he shot back, voice sharp.
"Yes, but he helped! He spawned withers and killed so many innocent people, Phil!" Tubbo screamed, angry tears flashing in his eyes.
"You think they were innocent, mate?" And Phil laughed, something dark and humorless. "You exiled your own best friend because Dream told you to, half the people in this country turned their backs on Wilbur and Tommy, including you!" Phil hissed, matching Tubbo's venomous tone, his fists clenched tight at his sides. And Tubbo snapped. His rage flared like a wildfire as he unsheathed his sword, "That is not true!" He screams, lunging at Phil.
Phil had only seconds to react, dashing out of the way. He hisses when Tubbo's sword slices his arm, cutting both fabric and flesh. He snarled at the young president and his assistant, wings puffed up and extended in defiance, a slight challenge. Tubbo stood trembling with rage, his eyes burning with fire. Quackity stepped forward, a cold, ugly smirk curling on his lips as he placed a hand on Tubbo's shoulder.
"It seems we have our answer Mr. President, I'll begin the preparations," he turned towards the door with a chilling calmness. Phil stared at Tubbo with steady eyes, blood trickling down his arm. His gaze slightly shifted to look behind Tubbo, where he saw Quackity bark orders at Fundy and open a chest. He pulled out iron bars, handed some to Fundy, then turned back towards Phil's house. Fear gripped at Phil's bones, his breath catching in his throat as he watched Fundy and Quackity begin to secure the iron bars around the windows.
"Tubbo," he breathed, voice tight with anger and dread, "What are you doing?"
Tubbo straightened, taking a deep breath, "Philza Minecraft, you have been conspiring with a wanted criminal and have therefore been conspiring against the government. You are a traitor to L'Manberg and its citizens and are hereby sentenced to death." Tubbo finished his declaration and strode out, slamming the door behind him. There was a rattling sound and then Tubbo was walking away.
"What...?" Phil whispered breathlessly, his brain trying to process what just happened. Panic began to spread throughout his veins as he watched Quackity and Fundy block the rest of his windows and every other exit he had, were they trapping him? Phil ran towards the door and pulled the latch, it didn't budge. He tried again and again, but still it held firm. "Tubbo," he said, beginning to slam his whole-body weight against the door, still it would not open, "Tubbo, open the door."
There was no answer.
The only sound coming from the other side of the door was the sound of flint and steel striking, and the unmistakable hiss of a flame igniting. Phil darted to the window, peering through the bars just in time to see Quackity hurl a burning torch onto his house. The flames began to catch, and dread surged up Phil's spine as the fire started to spread. The flames roared fiercely, consuming every inch of Phil's home within minutes. Smoke filled every corner that seemed to hold clean air, Phil coughed and choked, searching desperately for a way out as more smoke and ash filled his lungs.
They had blocked every possible exit, and it felt like the walls were closing in him around as the flames grew fiercer. He moved to one of his windows, smashing it with his fists, not even flinching when the glass shards cut at his skin making them slick with blood. The iron bars made it impossible to escape or get air, no matter how desperately he clawed at the iron, they would not budge.
"Let me out!" he screamed, "Please, I can't breathe!!" he screamed and begged until his throat was raw.
The house made an awful creaking noise as scorched logs fell from the ceiling, striking Phil and sending him into a pained yell. He fell to his knees, wheezing as the smoke consumed everything. He coughed, gasping for air. His vision blurred, smoke stinging his eyes. Then the house groaned, and there was a sharp crack. Phil turned his head just in time to see the debris begin to fall. "Tubbo!!!" He screamed, as his house crumbled around him. The ground fell out from under him, scorched logs and hot embers falling with him as he plummeted towards the ground. His head slammed against stone and darkness swallowed him whole.
Outside, Tubbo stood frozen, watching as Phil's house succumbed to the flames. He heard his friend's desperate cry before the house collapsed, the world going eerily silent. They had made sure the flames from Phil's home would not spread to the rest of the homes in the nation, something Quackity had assured him wouldn't happen. He had taken the necessary precautions. The rest of the homes in L'Manberg remained untouched. Ouackity had already left, tired of listening to Phil's constant screaming. Tubbo had stayed put, his body frozen in place.
He didn't regret it.
Not as the hot tears began to run down his face, not as the feeling of guilt crashed over his heart and stole the breath from his lungs.
He didn't regret it.
Not as Phil's kind smile entered his mind and was suddenly replaced by a furious glare of betrayal and hurt.
He didn't regret it.
He didn't....he did.
Unbeknownst to him, Ranboo had been watching. He watched as Tubbo and Quackity entered Phil's home. He heard the heated argument, watched them bar the windows and block the exits. He watched them light the torch, Phil’s home going up in flames. He approached Tubbo, a horrified expression on his face.
"Tubbo...What did you do?" He asks. Tubbo snaps out of his trace, aggressively whipping away the tears that still sting his eyes and begins to walk away.
"What's done is done. He was a traitor." he said, voice low as he passed by Ranboo who watched him until he disappeared over the horizon. Ranboo then turns back to Phil's house, watching as the remaining flames eat away at the logs.
He hadn't seen Phil leave, he hadn't seen him escape, he had heard his cries, desperate and begging. He began searching the rubble, his heart pounding in his ears as he looked for anything, any sign that Phil had somehow escaped or was at least visible in the rubble. Gods there was so much smoke and debris, he couldn't clear all of this on his own even if he tried.
Then a thought struck him-Phil had a friend.
Technobalde.
Without hesitation, Ranboo pulled out his communicator, fingers trembling as he searched for the name. He had never actually spoken to Technoblade, but now wasn't the time to hesitate. He was desperate. Phil needed help.
'You whisper to Technoblade: You need to come to L'Manberg'
'Technoblade whispers to you: heh????’
'You whisper to Technoblade: Something's happened to Phil.'
Technoblade is up and out of his house in seconds.
Awareness trickled back to him slowly, and how he wished he could remain in the painless void just a little while longer. Pain flooded his senses, a piercing headache making itself known, the drumming of his heartbeat only making it worse. Phil groaned, fighting to open his eyes hissing when they stung from the lingering ash and smoke. The air was thick and heavy, fire still flickering in some areas around him, producing more smoke that filled his lungs and stole his breath. He made an attempt to stand, slowly rising on shaky limbs. He froze when white hot agonizing pain shot through his wings, like lightning bolts. He felt the pain in right wing more than his left one, his good wing. His breath hitches, head slowly turning to look at his wings, praying that what he feared hadn't come true.
He looked at his wing, and his blood turned to ice in his veins.
His wing, his good wing, was trapped under a scorched log, the wood blackened and heavy and the pain unbearable, feathers bent and shifted the wrong way under the log. Some of them scorched from the flames that had nicked at them, the smell of burnt hair mixing with the metallic smell of blood. He turned away, his breath quickening as his mind tried to process everything at once. He swallows thickly, wincing when it feels like razor blades sliding down his throat. And in that moment, as he's sitting there, trapped in the remains of his home, his mind spiraling, a strangled sob escapes his lips. Tubbo, someone he had trusted had sentenced him to death, trapped him in a cage full of smoke to watch as he slowly suffocates.
And it hurts, gods everything hurts.
A harsh cough tore from his throat, fire erupting in his chest as he heaved for breath. His world swam in a blur of colors, eyelids growing heavy, his mind fogged, thoughts slipping away like smoke in the wind.
He was going to die here, trapped and alone. His mind wondered to his friends, what little friends he had left in this world anyways. Niki's kind smile as she bakes fresh pastries for him and the others in L'Manberg. Ranboo, whom he knew little about, but could sense he had a good heart; giving him small treasures he had found while out on his travels. Most of them shiny objects that his crows often tried to steal, and-
Technoblade...
His partner, his other half, his soulmate.
His heart ached at the thought of his friend finding him in the rubble of his home. Lifeless. Technoblade would find him and be consumed with grief and guilt. Maybe he would scream, maybe he would just sit there silently and hold Phil's corpse, begging any god that would listen to bring him back. Begging Lady Death, to give him another chance to save him. But it would all be for nothing, because Phil would still be dead, and Technoblade would see red. The voices would demand justice, demand blood.
They would demand Quackity's blood.
Tubbo's blood.
There was a sound, and suddenly the crushing weight on his wing and body was being moved and someone was pulling him from the rubble, from the depths of his mind. A strangled cry escaped his lips as pain flared throughout his battered body. He felt rough, but gentle hands cradle him, pulling him close to a warm chest and a frantic heartbeat with those same gentle hands brushing hair out of his face. His eyes slowly peeled back open, and his throat produced a small, broken warble as his eyes met those familiar red ones-Techno's eyes-filled with fear and desperation.
"Tech..." Phil whispered, cringing at the way his voice sounded like he had just swallowed barbed wire.
Techno's eyes darted across Phil's body, his eyes landing on Phil's wings. He knew they looked awful, covered in dirt, ash and blood. "Phil... oh gods your-" Techno's voice cracked with terror. Phil wanted to comfort him, to say he was ok, but every inch of his body throbbed. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his bones. Techno's hand moved to Phil's cheek, wiping away the soot under his eye. Phil leaned weakly into the comforting touch.
"Why,” Techno choked, “Why didn't you get out?" his voice was desperate, searching for answers as Phil's sluggish mind processed the question.
"Couldn't..." Phil finally managed, his tongue heavy and slow like lead was weighing it down.
"They barred the windows and blocked all the exits." Another voice cut in, not Techno's, but Phil was too out of it to try and figure out who's it was.
A low growl rumbled above him, and he cooed softly. Even in his broken state he was still trying to bring some comfort to his friend. He continued cooing until it was replaced by a harsh and agonizing cough, the fire returning to Phil's chest. Techno held him closer, hissing when Phil’s nails dug into his skin drawing blood. When the fit had passed, Phil was left drained, his skin pale and breath shallow pain twisting across his face.
"He needs help," Ranboo said quietly from beside them.
"I know." Techno spat, glaring at Ranboo who shrunk under his gaze, tail wrapping tightly around his leg. Techno sighed, shifting his gaze back to Phil, "Sorry kid, I know you're just trying to help." he said, his ears pinned against his skull, his own tail flicking about wildly. With another deep sigh, Techno gently tucked Phil close to his chest and stood, whispering soft apologies as Phil whined from the moment.
He began walking away from L'Manberg. Ranboo ran to catch up with him, "Where are you going?" he asked. "Away from here," Technobalde answered firmly, "This damn country has caused him enough suffering." Technoblade knew he needed somewhere to take Phil, where he could lay low and wait for his friend's wounds to heal. Somewhere that wasn't L'Manberg.
There was silence between the two hybrids as they walked, the only sound being Phil's pain filled breaths. Techno's ear twitched when he heard the pair of feet behind him stop and heard the way the young hybrid sucked in a breath. Techno stopped as well, turning to look at him, "I know where we can take him." Ranboo said, his gaze meeting Techno's.
"Where." Techno demanded, his tail flicking from side to side.
"Niki has a spare house not far from here, it's for emergencies only and way beyond the borders of L'Manberg. We'll be safe there."
Techno's eyes narrowed, sharp and suspicious. He didn't trust Ranboo. Sure, he had contacted him about Phil, but he was still a part of L'Manberg and he knew very little about the enderman hybrid standing before him.
"Why should I trust you? How do I know this isn't some sort of trap?" he growled, and Ranboo once again shrunk under his piercing gaze. He flattened his ears, tail wrapping tightly around his leg again as he swallowed thickly, trying to form a sentence that wouldn't come out in jumbled worlds or nervous warbles. "I-I don't want to hurt him, it's not a trap I p-promise. But if we don't do something he's just going to get worse...."
Technoblade kept his eyes trained on Ranboo for a few more seconds before turning his gaze back to Phil, who was beginning to shiver even though it was a fairly hot day. Techno sighed heavily, turning back to Ranboo.
"Take me there."
Ranboo had guided Techno to Niki’s safe house. Phil was still clutched tightly in Techno’s arms, eyes closed but conscious. Ranboo thanked whatever gods were listening when Niki answered the door. He feared she wouldn’t be there. She smiled warmly at him, “Ranboo, what a surprise! You should have told me you were coming, I would have prepared-” her sentence was cut short when she noticed the duo behind him. Technoblade looking out of breath and as tense as a mule while holding a very injured Phil, skin ghostly pale and breath nothing but a shallow shutter.
She had ushered them in without a second thought, guiding Techno to the spare room as she ran to grab potions and bandages. When she returned, she set to work on Phil’s wounds, peeling away his clothes that stuck to his mildly burnt skin, that had already begun to blister and scar. Whispering apologies as he thrashed at the feeling.
While Ranboo chose to remain in the other room, Techno stuck by Phil’s side. It was a long and grueling process, and he hated it.
There were times when Niki would touch something sensitive, a wound that was more injured than the rest of him, and Phil would thrash and scream. Knocking down potions and other essential materials as his wings fanned out. One of them had sent Techno crashing into the wall, knocking over some books, Niki yelling at him to hold Phil down, and he hated it.
Phil’s eyes had been full of terror and pain, they were glazed over and looked at Techno like they didn’t recognize him, and it hurt.
Finally, when Phil had stopped thrashing, when they had bandaged his busted up wing and every other major injury, when Phil slipped into unconsciousness, his muscles and face relaxing, breathing quiet and shuttering. Techno deflated, his own exhaustion from the day's events catching up with him as he rested his head next to Phil’s, bringing his forehead to meet his.
Niki began gathering up the empty potion bottles and bloody cloths, turning back to Techno before she leaves, “I’ll be in the other room if you need anything,” she said softly. Techno only hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving Phil’s chest as it rises and falls slowly. Niki shut the door behind her quietly and for a while it remained silent, the only sound being Phil’s shuddered breathing and Techno’s tail drumming against the wooden floor.
When the silence gets too loud, when the voices begin to scream. Demanding blood, demanding justice, Techno grips the sheets on the bed Phil rests on. Snarling at the oncoming headache from the voices trying to yell over each other. His tail flicks irritably as he reaches for Phil’s hand, squeezing it tight as he hears the voices begin to blame him.
You should have been faster
You left him to die
Your fault
E
Your fault
Your fault
E
Kill them
Blood for the Blood God
Kill them all
Techno grips the bed sheets tighter, the voices just growing louder. He shudders as he fights back tears, “I’m sorry…” he croaks out, letting the voices consume his mind, making his gut twist with guilt as they spit venom into his ear.
Your fault
Your fault
Your fault
He’s shaking…
He’s shaking, and the voices are screaming, some of them crying, and their demanding blood, and he’s crying. It's so loud, too loud, and everything hurts, and-
There's a hand on his face.
There are soft words being spoken.
And his head is being guided to look up, to look into those familiar blue eyes, dim and tired, and full of pain.
Phil is looking at him, Phil is smiling at him, Phil is speaking to him.
And he breaks.
Because Phil should be angry. Angry that he left him, left him to die. But he isn’t, his friend is smiling at him, using his thumb to whip away his tears. Techno’s ears are flat against his skull as more tears spill past his eyes, dampening Phil’s shirt as he’s pulled close to his chest. It’s a weak embrace, Techno willing falling into Phil’s arms more than Phil pulling him in.
And they sit like that for a while, Techno whispering apologies over and over again while the voices continue to yell, Phil cooing and thrilling softly even though it sounds broken and raw. They sit there, until Phil tugs on Techno’s clothes softly, prompting him to climb into bed next to him, and he does. Shifting until he gets into the perfect position so Phil and bury his face in the crook of his neck.
They both drift off to sleep to the sound of Phil’s coos.
“Gods your hair is a mess.”
“Not like yours is any better, old man.”
“Shut.”
Technoblade laughs, and it's the most genuine laugh he's had in days. And it's because he's happy.
He’s happy because Phil is alive. Phil is awake and moving around, braiding his hair as he hums and nods his head to a small tune.
He’s happy because Phil is safe.
And Phil was smiling, he’s laughing as Techno fills the silence with dry humor and tales of their old adventures.
“I’m just saying, those orphans had it coming.”
“Pffft, mate-” Phil’s practically doubled over, one arm folded over his ribs as he heaves, “Techno my ribs-”
Techno chuckles, patting him on the back, “Old.” he says, and Phil laughs harder, “I hate you so much.” he says, taking a deep breath.
“Nahhhh, you love me,” Techno replies with another soft chuckle.
Then the calm is shattered by something smashing on the ground, Phil jumps and Techno’s ears twitch, tail flicking as he jumps up. Voices drifted in from the other room, he could hear Niki’s furious tone, Ranboo’s calm voice, and-
Techno's hooves pound against the wood as he headed towards the door, “Tech?” Phil questioned, moving to stand so he could follow him. “Stay.” Techno snapped, immediately regretting it when Phil flinched at his sharp tone. His ears went flat, and his eyes grew soft, “Sorry, just-” he paused to think of the right words, “Stay here, I need to check something.”
“Ok..” Phil breathed, slowly sitting back down on the bed, feathers ruffling with anxiety.
Techno opened the door and stepped out into the hall, walking into the room where the voices were coming from. And his blood boiled hot at the scene in front of him. Niki and Ranboo stood side by side, Ranboo trying to calm Niki down as she argued fiercely with-
Tubbo…
Tubbo was here, the one who had hurt Phil, who had trapped him, who had left him to die.
They made eye contact for a split second, before Tubbo’s eyes darted back over to Niki and Ranboo, there was a flash of betrayal there as he looked at the two, “Niki wha..?” Tubbo’s voice cracked with disbelief, hurt, and anger. He turns to face Technoblade properly, to demand an explanation when-
Crack
Tubbo is thrown to the ground by the force of Techno’s punch, blood spilling from his nose and staining his hand and clothes as he tries to recover from the unexpected blow. Technoblade glares down at him, bearing his teeth, “Bastard.” he snarls.
Tubbo struggled to his knees, still clutching his face as he pushed himself up on shaky legs, eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and fury. Both he and Techno stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats and simmering rage. Techno’s anger burned beneath his skin, a fire ready to ignite. His ears pinned against his skull, tusks gleaming against the dim light.
“You’re lucky I don’t just kill you where you stand,” Techno growled, voice low and dangerous.
Tubbo flinched at the threat but quickly hardened, anger overtaking any hesitation. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had my blood on your hands,” he snarled, and at that the voices grew louder, demanding more blood, demanding his death. “And you’re not supposed to be here, Technoblade. You’re lucky I don’t bring hell down on this house and arrest you.”
Niki visibly bristled at the mention of her home, her eyes darkening like storm clouds ready to burst.
“This isn’t your country, Tubbo. We’re way outside L’Manberg’s border’s,” Niki said, stepping forward slightly. “And I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t tried to execute Phil,” Techno spat, stepping closer, his hooves pounding against the wood causing it to creak and groan.
“He committed treason and was-”
“Dealt with as such? Is that what you were going to say?” Techno cut him off sharply. “What kind of man, no, what kind of President executes someone by trapping them in their own home and burning it to the ground. By leavin’ them to suffocate?” Techno’s eyes blazed with unfiltered rage, “If it hadn’t been for Niki and Ranboo, Phil would be-”
He didn’t want to think of the alternative.
Because Phil was alive, he was alive and safe in the other room.
Tubbo stood silent, his head hung low as if finding the floor far more interesting than their current conversation.
“I’m sorry…” he finally breathes, looking up at Techno with pleading eyes, “Please I just-I need to see that he’s ok, that he’s alive, please” Tubbo begs, and it almost works, Techno feels that familiar feeling of sympathy, and he hates it.
Because he remembers Phil telling him how Tubbo had looked, how he had begged him to open the door, how he had screamed until his throat was raw and sore.
How Tubbo just walked away.
How he left him.
Techno stood tall, eyes glaring daggers into Tubbo’s, his tail flicked with anger and irritation. “It’s funny,” he said, “watching you sit here and beg,” Techno stepped closer, almost face to face with the young President. “Because that’s exactly what he did.” He growled.
Tubbo shrunk under his gaze, he slowly began backing away as Techno advanced on him, “He told me how he begged, begged you to let him out, because he couldn’t breath. Because he was scared.”
Tubbo’s back thumped against the wall, his breath quickening as Technoblade drew closer.
“He told me he begged and screamed until his voice broke.”
Technoblade’s fist slammed against the wall next to Tubbo’s face, “And you just watched. Watched as the house fell and his screams went silent,” the young boy beneath him trembling with fear. ” …and then?” Techno snarled, “You left him there to die.”
“So I don’t care how much you beg, or how loud you scream, I am never letting you anywhere near him again. And if you even think about trying to find us,” he summoned his sword, putting it dangerously close to Tubbo’s throat, “I will take your last life. I will make it slow and agonizing so even the ghost that remains remembers how much it hurt.”
The room was deathly silent, no one dared move.
Then Techno backed away from Tubbo, sheathing his sword, “Now get out.” he demanded while turning to leave. He didn’t see Tubbo leave, but he did hear Ranboo’s calming voice guide Tubbo out. He didn’t care, as long as the boy was gone.
He carefully opened the door to the spare room where Phil was and slipped inside. Phil was sitting on the bed, right where he had left him, fiddling with the blanket that was draped over his shoulders. His head shot up when he heard Techno enter, eyes lighting up immediately, he frowned when he saw Techno’s expression and tense muscles. “What happened?” he asked, attempting to stand so he could comfort his friend. Techno, however, just guided him to sit back down as he joined him on the bed.
“You shouldn’t be moving so much,” he said softly. Phil huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re avoiding my question.”
Techno didn’t answer, he avoided eye contact with Phil as the tension in the room grew. “Tech..” Phil spoke softly, reaching his hand up to Techno’s face, guiding him to look at him. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Technoblade sighed, ears drooping as he shifted his gaze away.
“Tubbo was here,” he said.
Phil tensed at the name, his feathers ruffling. “Apparently he wanted to see if you were ok, not like he cared before.” he said, clenching his fists in his lap. Phil took one of his hands, carefully unclenching it, and placing his hand there. Techno could see the scared skin from where he had been burned. It made his rage flicker.
“We can’t change what happened, we just have to accept that it did happen and move on.”
“He left you to die, Phil.” Techno said, and Phil could hear the way his voice shuddered, cracking with emotion.
“Hey, hey, Techno, look at me.”
Their eyes met, Phil’s soft ocean blue and Techno’s fierce red. “I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m not going anywhere.” He brought his free up and placed it at the base of Techno’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. Techno leaned into the touch, sighing as the tension left his body. They sat like that for a while, Techno soon pulling Phil into a tight embrace with Phil bringing his left wing to wrap it around them both.
Techno soaked in Phil’s warmth, and he suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He hadn’t slept much, his rest plagued by nightmares of Phil’s screams and his lifeless body trapped in the remains of his home. Phil chuckled slightly when Techno clung to him.
“Clingy,” he said.
Techno only hummed in response, his eyes falling closed as Phil trilled softly in his embrace. Techno returns the gesture with his own soft rumble.
Phil was alive.
Phil was safe and in his arms.
Phil was home.