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Techno manages to catch Tommy just before he could fall backwards off of his porch. He‘s cold, frighteningly cold, so he doesn’t waste any time trying to wake him up and asking why the heck he isn’t dead but rather wraps his arms around his chest and half carries, half drags him to his couch, dumping him unceremoniously onto it.
He checks his fingers and toes for frostbite, letting out a relieved sigh when he finds them bone white from the cold- yes, but at least alive. God knows only Tommy could be as stupid as to wander through a snow biome in that stupid red and white shirt of his. He throws a blanket over him and a few more pieces of wood into the fireplace for good measure and then settles into the armchair to resume reading his book.
It’s not until Tommy starts shivering again that the voices finally decide to speak up.
Why is he here?
Phil said he was dead!
Liar, liar pants on-
Shut up, Phil wouldn’t lie to us.
He looks sick.
Well, duh, he almost died-
„You‘re exaggeratin‘,“ Techno cuts in, „He‘s just cold, is all.“
He passed out from ‚just being cold‘.
He‘s going to get a fever and die.
Again.
Or he wasn’t dead to begin with-
Techno closes his book, not seeing any point in trying to read when the voices keep arguing if it’s possible to bring someone back from the dead.
It isn’t. Techno would know, he’s lived millennia and one thing he’s picked up during that time is that humans stay dead.
Unless-
Tommy stirs. Opens his eyes, taking in the sight of Techno warily.
„Hey, Tech,” he rasps. “Please don’t.“
„What?,“ Techno asks when it’s obvious Tommy doesn’t plan on elaborating.
„Kill me,“ he says, smiling weakly. „I mean, don’t kill me. That would be bad.“
Techno‘s brow furrow. „What, cuz you betrayed me?“ He crosses his legs, getting more comfortable in his chair. „I believe, I’ve already had my revenge, remember?“
Tommy sniffs. He does.
„Besides,“ Techno continues, „apparently killing you isn’t permanent.“
Tommy rolls on his back, eyes flitting around, seemingly searching for something on the ceiling. He doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for when something like relief flashes across his face. He closes his eyes.
„Yeah, apparently,“ Tommy mumbles and pulls the blanket up to his nose.
He’s still shivering, Techno notices. Wordlessly he goes to grab another blanket and throws it over his small form. Tommy doesn’t react.
Techno isn’t even entirely sure if he’s still awake when he asks, „you dye your hair or somethin‘?“
Tommy opens one eye, throwing him a puzzled glance.
Techno crosses his arms where he’s standing over the teen. „Well, I‘m assumin’ it hasn’t passed that much time since I last saw you for your hair to turn grey. Or white really,“ he adds.
“I literally have no idea what you are talking about, Blade.”
“You've got a white streak in your hair.”
Tommy suddenly sits up, eyes going wide. Before Techno can get a word in, he starts throwing the blankets off of him and scrambles up the stairs to the bathroom.
Instead of going after him, Techno listens for any sounds that would indicate that Tommy fell again and, when he doesn’t hear any, shouts, “Change out of your wet clothes while you're at it!”
No answer.
Techno shrugs and goes back to reading. He's about halfway through the chapter, when Tommy comes back down, wearing one of his shirts and some pants, both way too big on him, even though he cuffed them.
He also looks like he wants to crawl out of his own skin.
“What do you want with that?,” Techo asks when he notices the razor in Tommy’s hands.
“I need you to shave my head.”
Techno blinks. “Why?”
“Just do it, please,” Tommy sighs.
Don’t do it!
His beautiful curls!
It's gold!
“What? No. I don’t want to be responsible for you being bald.”
“I won’t be bald, my hair isn’t falling out,” Tommy argues.
“With how blond your hair is? It sure will look like it.”
Tommy stares at him, annoyed. “If you don’t, I will.”
No!
Don’t let him!
Tie him to a chair!
Get the razor!
Techno raises an eyebrow. “You ever done that before?”
Tommy averts his eyes. “No, but I've watched Wilbur cut Tubbo's hair before. Can't be that hard to just shave it off.”
“It'll look bad.”
“No, it won’t.”
The gold will be gone!
“Believe me, it will.”
“No, it-”
“Okay, just-,” Techno interrupts, massaging his forehead with his fingers. The voices are giving him a headache with their panicked bickering. As if he'd even consider shaving the kid's head. “Why do you want it gone?”
“It's,” Tommy swallows, head tilted towards the floor. “It’s just that I … I hate the white streak.”
Techno tilts his head in confusion. “Then why'd you dye it in the first place?”
Tommy doesn’t answer. Instead he meets his eyes, determination glittering in his eyes, though Techno can see the anxiety thrumming underneath. “I just want it gone, okay?”
Techno looks at him, really looks at him this time. The way Tommy shifts in the too big shirt, as if his skin was still sensitive, maybe raw, how he avoids the brightness of the fire to his left, pupils small. The general sense of wrongness he emits, like he isn’t supposed to be here, not necessarily in Techno‘s cabin, but here, standing in front of him, breathing, heart beating.
Techno looks at him, at the white streak, and he knows what must have happened. What Dream must have done. What Dream must be.
“Well,” Techno starts, trying to swallow down the dread crawling up his throat. “We could just dye it.”
Tommy blinks, surprised, like he hadn’t even considered that option, which he probably hadn’t. “What color?”, he asks as he sits back down on the couch, fiddling with the razor still in his hands.
“I think I have some blue left from Ghostbur's visits.”
Tommy looks at him skeptically.
“Or pink, I guess. I always got pink dye in stock,” Techno says, already making his way to the bathroom up the ladder upon seeing the enthusiastic twinkle in Tommy's eyes.
A few minutes later, Tommy’s leaning over the bathtub while Techno gently runs his fingers through his hair to wash the dye out. His shirt is full of pink stains from when Tommy had jumped at Techno's first touch to his head. He's still very sensitive, so Techno made sure to tell him every time before he touched him after that.
It actually doesn’t look half bad, Techno thinks as pulls the towel off of Tommy’s head, leaving Tommy looking like a disgruntled cat - with a pink streak in its hair of course.
Aww, he's like us!
Everyone will know he's ours!
Techno almost wants to disagree with the voices - Tommy was still his own person after all - but maybe Dream would back off if he sees that Tommy is claimed by another god now.
Or you're just possessive.
As Techno shakes his head to silently disagree, he gestures for Tommy to turn around and get a look at himself in the mirror.
At first, the kid doesn’t give much of a reaction, turning his head this way and that wordlessly, as if deciding if he liked it or wanted to shave his head even more than before.
But eventually he turns to Techno, the left corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upwards.
“I love it, Techno,” Tommy says.
“Well, that's-, I'm-,” Techno stutters, suddenly overwhelmed by the genuine gratitude in Tommy’s eyes, something warm settling in his chest that hadn’t been there since Tommy ran back to Tubbo. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to welcome it back, yet. Isn’t sure if it'll be worth the loss, when Tommy inevitably decides to leave again. “I'm glad you like it, Theseus.”
Tommy looks in the mirror one more time. “No, yeah, I really do, Techno.”
Techno lets him stay the night, figuring sending him back to L'Manburg through the snow alone would probably kill the kid.
Or maybe you just want him to stay.
Tommy asks to visit the dogs to wish them good night when he says as much and Techno can’t bring himself to tell him that they're most likely already asleep anyway just then.
So they sit with the sleeping dogs, Tommy burying his face in their thick fur, pink streak peaking out between blond curls, and Techno can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Tommy is worth it.