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Published:
2022-07-19
Updated:
2022-10-09
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13/19
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Tommy Craft's Fabulous Misadventures

Summary:

Tommy's uncle Phil would tell Tommy stories about his travels outside of L'manberg.
He would tell Tommy about the Goddess of Death, about fae and vampires and magic and sorcerers.
What he didn't tell Tommy is that maybe they weren't just stories.
After Phil's tragic death Tommy found out more about his seemingly dull world than he ever intended to - all thanks to a strange man dressed like royalty with a really stupid name.

Or: I got bored so wrote a DSMP/Skulduggery Pleasant crossover that no one asked for; you don’t need to have read Skulduggery Pleasant to understand this.

In loving memory of Technoblade <3

Chapter 1: Turns out Funerals are Pretty Boring

Summary:

TW for mention of death

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tommy Craft had never been a fan of funerals.

 

In all his 16 years of living he had only been to one – the funeral of someone who he didn’t even know which involved a whole load of people sobbing, drinking alcohol, and poorly telling stories of the dead person while Tommy stood off to the side talking idly to Tubbo.

 

This time, however, Tubbo wasn’t there, and Tommy actually knew the person who the funeral was for – though he was still standing off to the side under the shade of a large willow tree beside the forest behind the Craft Manor, while the funeral director droned on about “The Afterlife” and “The Goddess of Death” – none of which Tommy had ever really believed.

 

He didn’t even really know Philip Watson - not well, anyway. He had partaken in about two conversations with the man, who seemed nice enough, but always had an aura of sadness around him whenever he so much as looked at Tommy. He was interesting enough though – well respected in the world of architecture for his design of many gothic-style buildings and he always had fascinating stories about his travels far away from L’manberg.

 

The funeral was a somewhat pathetic affair – only twenty or so people attending. Even Tommy’s adoptive father, Sam, was too busy to attend. That was something Phil had accidentally taught Tommy: being well respected isn’t the same thing as being well liked.

 

Tommy was quietly zoning out, unaware of how much time he had so far spent there, when he saw the man with the pink hair.

 

He'd never seen anyone like the man before, who was also standing in the shade of the forest, a few meters away from Tommy – he was tall, with scars mapping his body in a delicate pattern over his muscles. He looked to be only around twenty, but was obviously unnaturally strong. He was wearing a white shirt with poet sleeves, a cape and a golden crown.

 

Seriously – who the fuck goes out wearing a crown?

 

Tommy watched the man, fascinated by his appearance until he was startled out of his reverie by the man turning his head and looking directly at Tommy with deadly red eyes. Adrenaline immediatley flooded through Tommy’s veins and he unconsciously leaped back as if he’d been electrocuted, panic clenching around his chest at the aura that he could almost see pulsing off the man.

 

Then, as suddenly as the man looked at him, he turned away and retreated into the darkness of the trees.

 

 

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Next thing Tommy knew, he was in the Craft Manor trying desperately attempting to avoid his extended family who resided in the formal dining room. So, naturally, Tommy was hanging around in the kitchen and stuffing his bag with as many packets of crisps as possible to share with Tubbo later. Or just to have for himself. He would figure that part out later.

 

Just as he was about to walk back to the door to leave, he heard a deep, British voice,


“Tommy. It’s been a long time, little brother”

 

Tommy rolled his eyes, hearing the smile in Wilbur’s voice and, without looking up from his bag, said “What the fuck do you want, bitch?”

 

His older cousin laughed at that. They weren’t really brothers, of course, only cousins, but on the rare occasions that Tommy saw Wilbur Craft they would keep up a bit of claiming to be brothers.

 

Wilbur laughed loudly and (in Tommy’s humble and honest opinion) slightly obnoxiously at Tommy’s comment, “I hear that your language hasn’t significantly changed since the last time I saw you.”

 

“I asked what the fuck you want,” Tommy looked up at Wilbur now – the man was just as Tommy remembered – wearing his usual brown trench coat despite being indoors, yellow turtle-neck sweater and with his brown hair a mess as per usual.

 

Wilbur laughed again, “Just to talk to you. Like I said, it’s been a while.” Wilbur looked Tommy over, raising his eyebrows with an amount of expression that only a hardcore theatre kid could achieve, “You’ve got a lot of snacks there. Any particular reason as to why?”

 

Tommy scowled, “None of your business, bitch”

 

“Okay then”

 

An only slightly uncomfortable silence fell between the two – lasting for at least a minute and the two just stood face to face, Wilbur looking down at the sixteen-year-old boy.

 

Tommy cleared his throat, “So, um… I’m gonna go, Big Man. I’m a busy guy, you know. Places to be, wives to have ‘n shit.”

 

Without waiting for Wilbur to reply, Tommy turned and fled, practically sprinting out of the living room and up the stairs, desperate to avoid the awkwardness of social interaction. He didn’t stop running for quite a long time through the labyrinth of corridors and staircases of the Craft Manor.

 

Finally, he came to a halt at a dead end – finding himself standing in front of a grand oak door with intricate carvings covering it and a polished silver doorhandle.

 

Frowning, Tommy stayed still for a few moments, considering his best course of action. He figured that he had two options:

 

1. Go in


2. Don’t go in

 

Naturally, Tommy chose the prior and without a second thought turned the handle and pushed into the room.
He didn’t know what he’d expected to see in the room, but what he definitely didn’t think he’d see was the man with pink hair standing behind a large circular desk.

 

There were books covering walls and a desk in the centre of the room with what looked like blueprints spread over it.

 

Oh, Tommy thought, this is Phil’s office.

 

Hearing the door’s loud creak, the man looked up and frowned at Tommy - though in the soft light of the evening sun shining through one dusty window he didn’t look nearly as threatening as he did at the service. Of course, that didn’t change how he had red eyes, but hey, Sam had always taught Tommy not to judge people on their appearance.

 

“Hello.” The man said in a deep, smooth voice to Tommy, the frown still not leaving his face.

 

“Who the fuck are you, bitch?”

 

The man’s frown deepened at that, clearly not expecting Tommy to immediately start excessively swearing at him.

 

“I’m a friend of Phil’s. I’m guessing that you’re some relation of his – I saw you at the funeral. He said that he doesn’t know many children-”

 

“HEY! I’m not a child!” Tommy spat indignantly,

 

“-so you look too young to be Fundy and not tall enough to be Ranboo, so I’d guess you’re his nephew, Tommy.”

 

Tommy froze at that – he hadn’t expected the man to know who he was. He scowled at the man, “The fuck’s it to you if I am? I bet you have a really stupid name, something that matches your stupid fucking personality,”

 

The man then had the audacity to laugh,

 

“Yeah, when Phil told me that you swear a lot, I didn’t exactly expect him to mean this much. And it matters to me because I’ve known your uncle for a long time. He spoke very highly of you. I always wished to meet his favourite nephew.” The man shrugged, “and for the record, my name is Technoblade, which I think is incredibly cool.”

 

Technoblade.

 

Technoblade.

 

The man’s fucking name was Technoblade.

 

Tommy didn’t think he’d heard anything more stupid in his LIFE.

 

He promptly burst out laughing.

 

“HAHAHA- your name- YOUR FUCKING NAME IS TECHNOBLADE- HAHAHAHA”

 

The man – Technoblade – scowled at Tommy,

 

“Yeah yeah, it’s stupid or whatever. I’ve heard it before-”

 

“HAHAHAHAHA”

 

“Okay, it’s not that funny-”

 

“HAHAHAHA”

 

“Kid, you can stop laughing. It’s genuinely not that funny-”

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

 

“Stop. Stop it.”

 

“OH MY GOD HAHAHA”

 

Eventually, Tommy’s laughter died down as Tommy doubled over with tears in his eyes.

 

“Are you done?”

 

Uh oh. The man did not look impressed.

 

“Sorry. But it is a really stupid name, though.” Tommy was still grinning, wiping tears from his eyes. Then a thought struck him, “wait- you said Phil spoke highly of me?”

 

Technoblade looked away from Tommy, sighing deeply through his nose, eyes determindly closed in an expression of exasperation.

 

“Yes. But given the impression that you’ve presented to me I already highly doubt his judgement.” Seeing Tommy’s disgruntled expression Technoblade walked away from the desk and past Tommy to the door, “well, as annoying as you may be, I wish you all the best in life.”

 

Blinking in confusion and this sudden statement, Tommy replied,

 

“Uhh- yeah. Thanks. You too, Bossman.” Tommy grimaced at the name he just called Technoblade. He forgot that not everyone was Tubbo, and therefore not everyone called people Bossman.

 

However, Technoblade just nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly, and walked out of the office down the corridor, leaving Tommy staring after him, perplexed.

 

 

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After the wake Sam’s car pulled up onto the long stretch of driveway. The sun had nearly set at this point, the night invading the navy sky.

 

Tommy, who had been waiting at the door, jogged swiftly over to the car and slipped into the passenger seat.

 

“Hey Toms. You alright?” Sam had evidently been concerned all day about the funeral, clearly thinking that Tommy had been closer to Phil than he really was and had therefore been treating the topic as if it was a sensitive subject.

 

“Yeah. It was fine. I didn’t really do much, kept to myself mostly, spoke to Wil-bitch and met a man called Technoblade. Fucking stupid name. He seemed cool though.”

 

Sam just nodded at this and pulled out of the parking space, driving up to the silver gates that blocked the mansion away from the rest of the world.

 

The drive home was fairly uneventful – the two didn’t talk much, Sam being tired from work and Tommy lost deep in thought.

 

He was still thinking about what Technoblade had said earlier – HAD Phil thought highly of him? They barely spoke, and Tommy wasn’t anything special. Why was HE Phil’s favourite nephew? Surely, Phil would like Ranboo more than him. He didn’t cause nearly as much trouble – though, Tommy supposed, he was pretty awesome.

 

Eventually they pulled up back at their house – it was bathed in moonlight and significantly smaller than the Craft Manor, having three bedrooms: one for him, Sam and Tubbo, but Tommy thought it was much more welcoming than the mansion looming omninously over people's heads.

 

Walking up to the house, Sam unlocked the door and walked through the hall into the kitchen. Tommy was following when Tubbo thundered down the stairs, waving aggressively at Tommy.

 

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo spoke extremely quicky, as per usual, “How was it? You okay? You don’t look too good Bossman. Did you get snacks? Was Ranboo there?” All of this came out of Tubbo’s mouth in about five seconds as he grinned at the other boy.

 

Tommy shrugged, “Fine, yes, yes and no. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

 

Tubbo’s face fell at the second to last comment, “Ah. That’s a shame. I hoped you’d see Ranboo – he’s really nice!”

 

Sam stuck his head through the door to the kitchen,

 

“Tubbo, lay off your brother. He’s clearly very tired – try not to bombard him with questions, yeah?”

 

Tubbo shrugged, “Okay, sorry King.”

 

Sam frowned, inspecting Tommy’s face, “You do look tired though, Tommy. Do you want to go to bed?”

 

Tommy wordlessly nodded and turned to the stairs.

 

“I’ll bring some food up to your room, if you want, Tommy”

 

Tommy nodded again, “Yes, please. Thanks Sam.”

 

He began to slowly trudge up the stairs, all of his energy evaporated. He did his best to ignore the concerned looks he knew Sam and Tubbo were giving him.

 

Tommy’s room was simple. It was tiny with plain, white walls, his bed, a bookshelf that was only half full, a set of drawers that also substituted as a bedside table, and a box that he kept his clothes in.

 

It wasn’t much, but Tommy didn’t want anything else – the more things he had the more mess he would make. Plus he never really spent all that much time in his room.

 

Tommy sighed slightly as he sat down on his bed, picking up his phone and scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly. He had exams coming up which he should study for, but he really didn’t have to energy to. Honestly, he never had the energy to study. Currently it was the Christmas holiday, so thankfully he didn’t have to worry about school for two weeks.

 

He could try to distract himself all he wanted, but Tommy knew that he’d still be thinking about Technoblade. (No, he didn’t care, shut up. He’d just never seen anyone marching around dressed like some fucking king and with a name that stupid before)

 

Technoblade seemed interesting. He appeared strange – but not just because of his name or clothes. He had an energy that seemed dangerous: like he could kill you and then everyone you'd ever loved without so much as lifting a finger. Tommy wasn’t scared, of course. He a was Big Man. Hell, he was the appointed leader of the Big Men. He never got scared.

 

Technoblade was just… intimidating. Yeah, that was it. He was slightly intimidating. Nothing Tommy couldn’t handle.

 

Tommy put his phone on his bedside table and flopped back onto his bed, his breathing slowing.

 

He was asleep in under two minutes, not hearing Sam put his food outside his door or Tubbo yelling at him to turn his light off. He was lost in abyss of of sleep.

Notes:

Soooo yeah, thanks for reading :D

This is my first fic, be nice to me >:( /j

I've written a few more chapters already, so hopefully I'll be able to keep motivation and get an okay upload schedule, but don't hold me to that.

Please let me know about any typos!!

Chapter 2: Philip Craft's Will

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tommy was woken by Sam loudly knocking on his door and yelling at him about how they were late and he “needs to get up now unless he doesn’t want to be allowed out with Tubbo tomorrow” or something along those lines.

 

Groaning, he rolled onto his side, looking at the clock on his bedside table before bolting upright. A few days had passed since his uncle’s funeral and for some reason Tommy had been told to attend the reading of the will.

 

Again, he’d never been close with his uncle so he immediately texted Ranboo to ask if he was going as well, but Ranboo responded in seconds saying that he wasn’t invited and - given that he had been living in Esempii for the last five years - he probably wouldn’t have gone even if he had been on the will. Ranboo had known even less about Phil than Tommy had.

 

Tommy rushed through getting ready for the reading, throwing on yesterday’s clothes, brushing his teeth and sprinting down the stairs. He was panting heavily by the time that he reached the door, but still grinned at Sam, who was watching him with an amused stare.

 

“Ready!” Tommy semi-yelled, puffing his chest out, despite breathing heavily after running around the house.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow, “didn’t you wear that shirt yesterday?”

 

Tommy glanced off to his right, “Uhh… no?”

 

Sam sighed, “Well you don’t have time to change it, so let’s just hope you don’t smell too much. Come on. It’s an hour-long drive to the solicitor’s office.”

 

Tommy’s response was to snap finger guns at Sam before running over to the car, his body thrumming with energy.

 

Eventually they arrived only ten minutes late (Sam had been stressed that they’d be half an hour late and entirely miss the reading) and made their way into the plain white office.

 

The two were greeted by the solicitor (named Antfrost), Wilbur (who waved at Tommy, giving a lopsided grin), Fundy (who appeared to be thoroughly bored), and, most surprisingly, Technoblade, who stared at Tommy, his expression stolid and unchanging. Tommy did notice, however, that while he was still wearing the dramatic shirt and boots, he’d ditched the crown and cape. Thank god, Tommy thought – he didn’t think he could exactly bear being in the same room as someone dressed as some kind of medieval royalty for over ten minutes.

 

Antfrost looked up at Tommy and Sam, nodding politely at them, “Ah – Mr. Awe and Thomas Craft, I presume,” he smiled at Tommy, who nodded.

 

“Yes, that’s us,” Sam replied, pulling up chairs beside the desk for him and Tommy, who, somewhat awkwardly, sat down beside Wilbur, who promptly began elbowing him in the ribs repeatedly.

 

“Right,” Antfrost looked back down at Phil’s will, “Are we ready to begin?”

 

The group nodded,

 

“Wait, that’s all of us?” Tommy interrupted, his voice just slightly louder than it should’ve been, but Antfrost smiled warmly at him from across his desk.

 

“Yes. It seems that Philip Craft was relatively selective with his company.”

 

Tommy nodded, still perplexed.

 

“We’ll begin then.” Antfrost began to read:

 

“’Firstly, I’d like to address my son, Wilbur. To you I leave most of my possessions – my house, money and cars. As your father I do not exactly trust that you will be responsible with them, but I hope that you don’t cause too much trouble.”

 

Wilbur grinned, looking, in Tommy’s opinion, far too happy for someone who just heard his own father’s will. Honestly, no one in the room looked particularly upset and Tommy was starting to think that he was the most troubled by Phil’s death and he barely even knew the guy.

 

Antfrost continued, “Secondly, I would like to address my good friend Fundy. You were always like a younger brother and nephew to me, and therefore I leave to you my extensive collection of maps for I know how much you love to travel.”

 

Fundy looked up, incredulously. “That’s it? Just his maps? He had so much more that he could’ve given to me! Wilbur gets his house and his fortune, and I’m left with a collection of maps?” he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eye, and he took the old, dusty maps from Antfrost without further complaint.

 

Antfrost paused but seemed to ultimately elect to ignore Fundy’s half-hearted outburst; instead deciding to continue reading the will, “Next, to my old friend Technoblade, I give you a piece of advice: your path is your own and I have no wish to sway you, but sometimes the greatest enemy we must face is ourselves, and the greatest battle is the darkness within. There is a storm coming and sometimes the key to safe harbour is hidden from us, and sometimes it is right before our eyes.”

 

Tommy blinked at this: he’d heard some pretty shit advice, but this just seemed overly vague and cryptic. Technoblade, however, simply nodded again; his expression was still yet to change.

 

Antfrost cleared his throat, “And finally, to my nephew, Tommy. I have always loved and respected you, even if I never really showed it to your face. So, to you, first and foremost, I owe an apology for not being for you as much as I should or in the right ways. For that, I am deeply sorry – more than you could ever know.”

 

Tommy blinked, highly taken aback by this statement. Why was Phil apologising? Phil didn’t even know Tommy apart from two limited conversations – why would he care so much about a boy he barely spoke to? First he was - apparently - bragging about Tommy to Technoblade and then he wanted to apologise? Needless to say that Tommy was incredibly confused at this.

 

He was too distracted by his thoughts that he barely registered Sam’s hand resting gently on his shoulder and Antfrost continuing reading,

 

“To you, though it may not seem much, I offer my discs. They are more important than you guess, and they may help you in the future. The world is larger and scarier than you imagine, and I hope that these help you in some way that I did not.”

 

At that, Antfrost produced two large music discs and passed them over to Tommy, who was still sitting frozen in place: his late uncle’s words echoing around the caverns of his mind

 

“With that I give my final thoughts.

 

“I thank each and every one of you for everything that you have done for me, and I hope that you can all find it in your hearts to forgive me for the things that I have don’t to hurt you all. I love you all in different ways and I hope that you all find solace in each other.

 

“I’m also aware that Sam will probably be at the reading, so if he is I would like to thank him for looking after Tommy so well.”

 

Antfrost shut the note and looked up at the five men almost expectantly.

 

Technoblade stared at Antfrost. “So, if that’s it can we go?”

 

Antfrost, who had clearly been expecting a much more emotional response, made a face. “Um… sure, that’s it. I hope you enjoy your day.”

 

 

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Standing outside of Antfrost’s office was, in Tommy’s opinion, quite boring.

 

Well, as boring as it could be with a lanky ex-theatre kid breathing down your neck.

 

Technoblade had left immediatley, somewhat to Tommy’s dismay - not bothering to state a reason for his abrupt departure.

 

Wilbur grinned down at Tommy, still looking far too happy for a man who’s father had just died.

 

“Soooo…. Toms. As my favourite cousin-” Wilbur began,

 

“I’m the only cousin you’ve met.”

 

Wilbur ignored this, “I was wondering if you’d like to go back to Dad’s house to hang out with me? We can check the place out and shit!”

 

Tommy frowned slightly and glanced up at Sam, who shrugged and replied,

 

“I don’t see why not. What time will you be back?”

 

Somehow Wilbur’s grin widened even more,

 

“I was thinking he could stay the night?”

 

Sam nodded again, “Sounds fine. I trust that you're fairly trustworthy. We’ll have to nip back home though to grab Tommy’s stuff and then we’ll be right over?”

 

“Hang on-” Tommy burst out, “I don’t remember ever agreeing to this-”

 

 

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An hour and a half later Tommy and Sam were sitting in the car outside of the Craft Mansion for the second time that week, the sun setting over the acres of forest in the distance. Tommy had packed a small backpack and left his new disks in the draw beside his bed.

 

“Sammmm, I don’t want to go see Wil-bitch Soot,” Tommy whinged at Sam, throwing his head gently at his father’s shoulder.

 

Sam laughed slightly at the boy’s theatrics,

 

“Careful, Tommy. Keep being this dramatic and you’ll end up being like Wilbur yourself. Plus, we both know that you like him really.”

 

Tommy grunted.

 

“I think it’ll be good for you to reconnect with the rest of your family. God knows you need more friends than just Tubbo.”

 

Tommy groaned again, “but I hate Wilbur. Plus I have a lot of friends, I’ll have you know. The ladies call me “Big Man Toms, the Friend and Women-haver”

 

Sam snorted loudly, rolling his eyes, “Point A, no one has ever called you that; Point B, you talk far too much about Wilbur Soot for someone who hates him; Point C, name three friends who aren’t Tubbo, imaginary or animals.” Sam raised his eyebrows, evidently expecting a response.

 

Tommy hesitated.

 

“Well… there’s Ranboo-”

 

“When was the last time you saw Ranboo?”

 

Tommy elected to ignore that comment.

 

“Then there’s… there’s… uhh…”

 

Sam sighed, “You’re going to see Wilbur. You can call me if it gets really bad there and I’ll come and pick you up, alright?”

 

Tommy rolled his eyes, resigned to his obvious fate.

 

“Okay. Let’s get this over with then, I guess.”

 

A few minutes later, Tommy was standing in one of the many living rooms of the Craft Manor again, trapped in a giant house with a maniacal prick named Wilbur.

 

Yeah, he thought, this is really not a good idea.

Notes:

Chapter two!!

I was going to upload this later in the week but my summer holidays finally started so I got impatient lmao

Thank you so much for the hits and kudos on my last update- it really means a lot to me :)

Next chapter should bring more action and a fair amount of Crime Boys content, which I'm looking forward to!!

I hope you have a great day/evening/night :D

Chapter 3: As if Tommy's Luck Couldn't Get Any Worse

Notes:

TW for violence and passing out
Stay safe!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wilbur’s dumbass smile never did leave his face, did it?

 

He was constantly grinning at Tommy like a deranged maniac, a constant smile etched across his face.

 

Wilbur looked at Tommy,

 

“Do you want to put your stuff down? There’s not much by the looks of it, but it can’t be fun to hold all the time.”

 

Tommy shrugged, refusing to even lay his eyes upon a bitchless wimp like Wilbur.

 

Wilbur frowned at Tommy, “I also suggest that you have a shower, you kinda stink.”

 

“oH, I’m sorry that my manly stench is too much for your pathetic baby man senses to handle-” Tommy burst out at Wilbur, scowling and trying to pretend that his lips weren't being pulled upwards in amusement, “but some of us aren’t so weak that we can’t handle a bad smell.”

 

Wilbur laughed again, “Okay, child. But seriously, you smell. Get changed you literal child.”

 

Tommy gasped over dramatically, holding a hand to his chest and blinking repeatedly at Wilbur, “How dare you challenge my masculinity?! Surely you know that my ego is fragile at best!”

 

Wilbur put a hand in between Tommy’s shoulder blades shoving him lightly towards the door, “Shut it child. Go and get changed. Do what your Big Brother Wilby told you to.”

 

Tommy scowled but resigned himself to trudging up the stairs to the guest room that Wilbur directed him to and – needless to say – did not get changed.

 

Or shower, for that matter.

 

He simply dumped his backpack which contained his necessities on the bed and wandered back into the living room again.

 

Upon Tommy entering the room, Wilbur immediatley wrinkled his nose dramatically.

 

“Child,” Wilbur said, “you evidently did not shower or get changed.”

 

“Nope,” Tommy flung himself down on the plush sofa by the door, kicking his legs up on the glass coffee table carelessly.

 

Wilbur just sighed and threw himself down next to Tommy, tipping his head up to gaze at the ceiling.

 

Tommy took that opportunity to properly look around the room. It was Wilbur’s (and had been Phil’s) personal living room – it was therefore a much smaller and more comfortable room than their official living room that they had used to entertain guests at Phil’s funeral. The walls were painted a light shade of robins-egg blue and the centre of the room was made into a sort of nest filled with a chaotic assortment of blankets, pillows and items of clothing that Wilbur had repeatedly insisted was 'meticulously organised'.

 

Tommy felt somewhat bad for staring – especially after Phil's tragic death even just being in the room seemed like an invasion of privacy. This was their special place and Tommy couldn’t help but feel that he was intruding.

 

“So,” Wilbur looked back at Tommy, a single eyebrow raised, “what do you want to do now?”

 

Tommy shrugged. He wasn’t used to being in a room with just one other person unless they were Tubbo or Sam. Especially not Bitch Boy.

 

“We could watch a film? I can grab some snacks for you if you'd like? Unless there’s something else you want to do?” Wilbur prompted.

 

Tommy shrugged again, “Sounds good to me, prickface.”

 

Wilbur nodded, hauling himself up off the sofa with a dent where he had been sitting in the fabric. He padded noislessly out of the room with an animal-like grace and speed, leaving Tommy alone with the thoughts echoing around his head.

 

Tommy couldn’t help but feel bad for the man. For all the half-hearted insult Tommy threw at him and claimed to despise him Tommy really did like the guy.

 

Back when Tommy was a kid, Wilbur would be the only person to talk to him at family gatherings if Ranboo wasn’t there. Wilbur was there to help him on his “heists” whenever he was staying overnight at the Craft Manor and decided to steal some food from the kitchen in the middle of the night. For all Wilbur masked his feelings to the rest of the world Tommy knew how much it hurt for your parent to die – especially when they were so young.

 

Tommy never really knew his own parents – they had died before his first birthday in a fire. Sam had adopted Tommy a year later. Even now, though, he would still lie awake late at night wondering what they were like; who they were as people; how they looked after him. Even though he never knew them he felt slightly betrayed that they weren't there for him - even though logically he knew that it wasn't their fault.

 

Tommy could hardly bare to think how much Phil's death must have affected his only son - especially considering that as far as Tommy was aware Wilbur never knew his mother who had died in childbirth.

 

Wilbur pushed the door open with a creak, pulling Tommy away from his string of thoughts.

 

He held up a packet of biscuits and some chocolate, still smiling at Tommy.

 

For all Tommy’s complaining, he really did like that about Wil. He always seemed genuinely happy to see Tommy. Not many people were.

 

“What do you want to watch Toms?” Wilbur was speaking gently, as if sensing Tommy’s bone-deep exhaustion.

 

“Up.” Tommy stated decidedly.

 

“Alright.” Wilbur’s smile was considerably softer at this point.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

Wilbur had fallen asleep halfway through the film with his head buried in a pillow that rested on his curled up legs and Tommy was, for lack of a better word, bored. He'd tried multiple times to fall asleep to no avail so he made the decision to walk around and explore the house. He'd been up for only forty five minutes and had so far managed to get lost three times, loop back to Wilbur’s living room where the man was still sleeping - twice - and now he'd somehow ended up in the main guest kitchen on the ground floor.

 

He was standing by the sink with a cup of juice that he’d found in the fridge, leaning against the counter, his posture even worse than usual.

 

A shrill ring bounced around the room causing Tommy to look up, confused, to see the landline in the corner of the room ringing with an unknown number.

 

Tommy hesitated for a moment, his body freezing up in his spot. He didn’t think he should answer someone else’s phone, but at the same time what if it was something important? Plus, fine, he was just nosey.

 

Briskly striding over to the opposite side of the pristine kitchen, Tommy made up his mind, picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

 

“Hello?” he asked in the politest voice he could muster.

 

“Who is this?” The voice on the other side of the phone was rough and gravelly; they spoke clearly and loudly with hatred woven into every thread of their words.

 

“Look,” Tommy replied instinctually, “I don’t know who you are, so I’m not gonna just tell you my name. Stranger danger ‘n all that. Prick.”

 

“Who is this?” the person on the other end disregarded Tommy’s language.

 

Tommy chewed his lip.

 

“Hey dude, I think I made my point clear. I’m not going to tell you exactly who I am. But if you’re looking for Phil, I’m afraid-”

 

“I know Craft is dead. Now, if you want to live, I suggest you tell me who you are.”

 

“Dude, there was a line which you have very much crossed by now. I’m not going to tell you my name; now kindly fuck off.”

 

“Don’t talk to me like tha-”

 

Tommy slammed the phone back down, trying to ignore his white and trembling hands. Inhaling deeply, he grabbed onto the counter, clinging desperatley to it for support and considered going to tell Wilbur about the situation.

 

Stop it, he told himself, you’re being stupid. Its just a phone call – no one’s actually gonna hurt you.

 

The sound of smashing glass bounced around the tiles, even louder that the phone had been.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

A tall man wearing a white hoodie, tight black trousers and a golden chain around his neck pulled himself through the window and leaped into the room, completely disregarding the broken glass that littered the floor of the kitchen.

 

He gave Tommy a deranged grin while Tommy stayed frozen by the door, his legs stiff and unresponsive to the screams to get the hell out in his head.

 

“Hey kid,” the man’s voice was the same as the person’s on the phone; only slightly calmer and less maniacal. If it weren’t for the glass surrounding him and the long knife in his hands he could easily have passed for a normal person who Tommy wouldn’t have looked twice at on the street. “I really don’t want to hurt a child, so I suggest you give me the key, okay?” The man smiled tauntingly.

 

“Wha- what key?”

 

The man laughed softly, a dagger of ice slicing through Tommy’s soul, “playing dumb won’t help you, boy. Now I suggest you tell me where it is.”

 

With his heart desperately trying to beat itself out of Tommy’s chest he shook his head, frantically trying to avoid confrontation.
There it was again – the insane grin, accompanied with a laugh and a few steps forwards this time.

 

“What do you want from me? I don’t know anything about a key,” if he weren’t so panicked Tommy would likely have been ashamed of how his voice shook and how he had to force out such simple words.

 

The man laughed again, “Me? I want nothing to do with you. I’m just here to collect the key. I’m willing to take it peacefully or pry it from your dead body. It’s your choice!”

 

On the last word he leaped forwards at Tommy with unnatural speed and grace, kickstarting Tommy’s limbs into action and he flung himself to one side, landing on his knees, a shock being sent through his body. Tommy stumbled backwards on his knees, eyes wide and body shaking violently – a building sense of nausea taking over his stomach.

 

The man’s grin widened, and he turned to face Tommy’s slight frame, “I see you choose the latter,” Tommy stumbled to his feet, desperatley trying to keep away from the man at all costs, his breathing deep and uncontrolled, “it’s a shame. I struggle to enjoy hurting people as young as you.”

 

Tommy flung himself at the door, trying desperately to control his limbs and sprinted down the hall, his steps clumsy and uneven, breath wild, making him feel lightheaded. The man’s footsteps were nearly silent on the soft carpet, so Tommy had no idea how close he was – he just kept desperatley running, passing the living room and nearing the door.

 

He was nearly there.

 

He was so close.

 

He just had to reach the door-

 

A cold, calloused hand gripped the back of his shirt and slammed his body against the wall as more adrenaline coursed through his veins.

 

A gold tooth flashed at Tommy and the man’s grin remained on his unhinged face, the glint of the silver knife in the man’s hand was nearing Tommy’s throat.

 

This is it, Tommy thought with his pulse pounding in his throat where the dagger was about to plunge into, this is where I die.

 

But it was at that very moment that the door was completely thrown off of its hinges, falling into the room; a large, muscular figure loomed in the doorway towering over the man in white and the next thing Tommy knew he slid down the wall as a fist descended onto the man’s head, launching him backwards and off of Tommy.

 

The person drew their hand back, again, flames engulfing it. They launched the fire forwards, hurling it at the man who the flames surrounded – but he seemed unscathed by the flames licking his body. The person hissed and cursed under their breath after the flames flickered out in a wave of smoke and the man pointed the knife at them.

 

A wave of invisible force launched forwards from Tommy's defender, flinging the man backwards and further away from the door to the outside world.

 

The man backed away from the other figure, eyes wide, chest heaving. A flash of green flew from the man’s hand, past Tommy and out of the door and, in a flood of violet particles that burst out into the room, the man dissipated into thin air.

 

Tommy blinked up at the person above him, trying to clear the little fuzzy spots from his wavering vision and calm down his unrestrained heartrate. Long pink hair dangled down above his head.

 

Wait.

 

Pink hair.

 

Don’t tell his it’s-

 

“Well, that certainly was eventful,” Technoblade calmly told him, as if he hadn’t just stopped someone from murdering Tommy on the spot.

 

But there was something different about Techno. His nose was much more snout like, he had even more gold jewellery on his body than he had before, and two large tusks protruded from his mouth.

 

Hang on…

 

Tusks?

 

Okay, Tommy was seriously weirded out at this point, but he automatically took Techno’s offered hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet, his body unable to stop himself as he was too busy trying desperately to not let his mind be taken over by the black that wavered in his vision.

 

Technoblade let go of Tommy’s hand and glanced over to the side at the doorframe,

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

Tommy stared at him.

 

“I’ll fix it for you, if you’d like – though I suppose it’s not your house.”

 

Tommy continued to stare at him.

 

“It’s really not the end of the world. It’s an easy fix.”

 

Tommy stared even more.

 

Then, in a dull voice Tommy spoke, “You have tusks.”

 

Techno nodded, “I do, yes.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. They’re really fucking ugly.”

 

That was the last thing that Tommy said before darkness completely clouded his vision and he stumbled forwards into Technoblade’s arms, as if the man had been predicting that very event.

Notes:

Hello!!

I ended up merging Chapter 3 with some of Chapter 4 because otherwise it'd be really short; so I think I may have just thrown the flow off of the entire story from here lmao ;-;

ALSO, I may not update next week because I'm going on holiday and have no more fully written chapters. I'll TRY to get something that I can publish ready for then but no promises. I haven't really planned much of the rest of the plot from here but I'm just gonna keep going and hope for the best.

Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day/night <3

Chapter 4: Gogy?!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The next thing Tommy knew, he was lying on a sofa in the plush main living room, his head propped up on a particularly fluffy pillow. He pushed himself upwards with great effort and held himself up in a sitting position.

 

At his side Technoblade was also sitting up; he was engrossed in a hardback book that looked like some of the bullshit that Tommy’s teachers tried to force him to read last year and drinking a mug of tea.

 

“I see you’re up” Techno didn’t so much as look at him, his red eyes still enraptured in his book.

 

Tommy cleared his throat and swallowed thickly, “Yeah. Uh- I’m sorry about that.”

 

Techno shrugged, “It’s fine, you had a big shock. But I suggest you don’t pass out again.”

 

“Bitch shut the fuck up.” It was a feeble attempt at Tommy’s usual humour, but he supposed that it was better than nothing.

 

Techno sighed slightly prompting Tommy to finally ask, “Okay but actually what is going on? One moment I’m just hanging out with my cousin and the next I’m being attacked? What the hell? Are you real? You don’t seem real.”

 

Techno shrugged nonchalantly, “I think so. Of course, I might not be. You might not be. I could be a figment of my own imagination.”

 

“Oh oka- wait what?”

 

Technoblade simply stood up off the sofa, setting his book down. He looked hard at Tommy, who began wondering what deep and insightful thing he would say about existential terror and the uncertainty of reality.

 

Instead, he said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

 

Tommy blinked up at him, “Uh… sure?”

 

Technoblade led him into the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil. Tommy took a seat at the table and watched as Techno moved around making two mugs of steaming tea.

 

Techno set a mug down in front of him and took a seat opposite the boy who picked it up and took a sip. The tea burned his throat but it somewhat grounded him, keeping him attached to whatever little sense of reality he had left.

 

“So. You threw fire at that man, and he magically disappeared. How?” Tommy wasted little time in demanding, not bothering to make his tone more polite for the man.

 

Techno closed his eyes, an exasperated expression laying across his face.

 

“I suppose there’s no avoiding telling you, is there?”

 

Tommy straightened his back up, vigorously shaking his head, “No.”

 

“Well,” Techno began, “What do you want to know first?”

 

“You threw fire at him.”

 

“You’re really caught up on the fire thing, aren’t you?”

 

“How? Was it magic?”

 

Techno nodded, “I suppose it was magic, yes.”

 

“And when he disappeared. Was that magic too?”

 

“Yes, it was.”

 

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyes were pulled wide, his mouth hanging slightly open as he gawked at the man.

 

There was a brief pause before Techno spoke again.

 

“You look like a goldfish. Or maybe you’re just going to pass out again.”

 

Tommy spluttered indignantly, accidentally choking on a mouthful of scorching tea.

 

“Hey, fuck you bitch, I am NOT a goldfish!” he yelled, coughing violently. Then he paused, thinking for the first time in his life before he spoke, “speaking of passing out, I think Wilbur’s still asleep upstairs.”

 

Techno, who had been repeatedly tapping his fingers against the mahogany table stilled, “Wilbur? As in Phil’s son?”

 

Tommy rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the question, “Noooo… I mean someone else with a name as dumb as Wilbur.”

 

Techno snorted – something which Tommy would have overlooked an hour earlier, but now couldn’t help thinking about how pig-like the sound was.

 

“Well, I’ve known the kid for a while. Trust me, he can sleep through anything.”

 

Tommy knew from experience that this was true. He’d been round a few years ago to go camping with Wil in the forest behind the manor. There had been a full-on thunderstorm that scared him shitless; the fact that his cousin slept through the who extravaganza didn’t exactly boost his morale.

 

“You didn’t answer who you are. And I mean it this time. I want to know who you really are. Not just your name.”

 

Techno looked down at the table for a few moments, staring at the wood grain, red eyes determinedly fixed away from Tommy, who began to worry if he’d upset the man. But then Technoblade began to speak,

 

“Well, I’m part piglin. Netherborne.” Before Tommy could interrupt to ask what the fuck he was on about, Techno continued speaking, “the Nether is another dimension. One of many. It’s the land of fire and lava. Piglins are a breed that live there – humanoid hogs, I suppose. I’m like them except half of me is human; piglins usually can’t enter the overworld – that’s where we are now – without turning into mindless zombies. But I obviously can.”

 

Techno paused, looking up from the table at Tommy, who was back to blankly staring.

 

“But- but-” For the first time Tommy was at least partially lost for words, “I thought those were myths. Like the Goddess of Death and shit…”

 

Techno smiled wearily at him, as if he’d expected that. “I guessed Phil told you about that.”

 

Tommy nodded mutely.

 

“Well, I can only tell you limited things, but yes. Most of what your uncle told you is true. Magic, monsters, hybrids. Some of it is… far-fetched, I will say, however it is largely based on fact.”

 

Tommy wasn’t sure exactly what to think about that. It sounded completely ludicrous and normally he would laugh at Technoblade for what he was saying but after the last hour… well, he as feeling slightly more open-minded. Still though, it as hard not to feel as if his head as going to explode from the amount of questions he wished to ask the man. Was Phil magical? What about Tommy himself? Could ANYONE do magic? Was there really a Goddess and Angel of Death? Could mages live for hundreds of years as Phil claimed?

 

Tommy licked his lips and opened his mouth to ask a few of them, but Technoblade put his cup down on the table and stood up with a cat-like grace.

 

Looking down at Tommy he nodded and spoke, “Well, I should probably be off. I have someone I want to see in an hour or so and if I stay here I’ll most likely be late. It was wonderful saving your life and all but some things are more important.”

 

He started towards the door, but Tommy couldn’t help but to yell out, “HANG ON, you’re just going to LEAVE me here?!”

 

Techno frowned with the look of someone questioning if they’d said what they intended to, “Yes? That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

 

“Wait, you can’t just leave me here! What if he comes back?”

 

Technoblade shrugged at him, “Not my problem, kid. It’s not my responsibility to save you again if you’ve been irresponsible enough to let him in to the house.”

 

Tommy just gawked at this in disbelief, “Firstly Wilbur hasn’t done shit to help me, he’s probably still asleep and secondly the doors off its hinges and the window’s broken! I’m not irresponsible for him getting in, that’s YOUR destruction of the building!”

 

Technoblade froze at the door, before turning slowly towards Tommy again, “I… suppose that you may be right, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

 

Tommy gawked even more, “I don’t know – stay here with me? Try and do SOMETHING that’ll stop me from being attacked again?!”

 

“Well,” Technoblade hesitated, gesturing towards the door with his head, “I really do have to meet George,”

 

“Then take me with you!” Tommy interrupted.

 

Techno sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that night. “I suppose I could do that… but you’ll have to promise not to say anything vulgar to my acquaintance. Or insult him. Or tell him your name. Or just speak to him. You know what, why don’t you just not even look at him?”

 

Tommy scowled at him, “What? Why not? Do you have something against my fabulous TommyInnit charm? Because, if you do, I know many women who will disagree.”

 

Techno pointed at him, nodding, “And that, child, is exactly why you should keep your mouth shut around him. You have a habit of being incredibly annoying, for lack of a better word.”

 

Tommy just nodded back at this, “Thank you. Many people find me annoying at first. But don’t worry, I’ll grow on you – I’m rather like moss in that sense.”

 

Techno blinked at that, profusely shaking his head, “You know what? I’m not even going to ask. Come on kid. I’ll take you - but please behave”

 

Tommy grinned, not believing his luck.

 

 

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Five minutes later Tommy was sitting in the passenger seat of Techno’s old, run-down car grinning like a madman at the little skill required to annoy the man into letting him join.

 

Techno, on the other hand, did not seem to be as happy as Tommy was at this development. He kept glancing away from the road and at the boy with an expression that said that he would rather be anywhere else than his current position.

 

Tommy chose to ignore Techno’s disgruntled manner and chose to pick up his usual energetic persona, yelling and talking with a constant stream of (largely unconnected) words - featuring the most prominent topics of conversation such as: women, his favourite choice of swear words, Techno’s stupid name, Techno’s stupid face, how Tommy was the World’s Biggest Man, Tommy’s many wives, and how people were starting to think that Tommy was gay because he kept flirting with his friends.

 

Techno chose to bear this in silence and just keep driving forwards, hoping desperately that Tommy would eventually get bored and shut up. Needless to say that this did not happen.

 

Eventually Techno stopped at a red light, exhaling heavily and turning to look at Tommy through narrowed eyes, “Child. Do you ever – and I mean EVER – shut hell up?”

 

Tommy rose the volume of his voice from its usual volume of Way Too Loud and cried out, “oH oKAY, I see how it is, you fucking hate me, don’t you?!”

 

Techno opened his mouth, flinching back as if Tommy had punched him, “What? No I never said that – I was simply implying that you can be annoying, which you’ve admitted to yourself-"

 

“No no, I see how it is,” Tommy blinked away fake tears, “You just hate ME, don’t you? You see me as the family disappointment!”

 

“Dude, I literally never said that-”

 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t blame you – I‘m just sorry that I couldn’t live up to your expectations of ‘Phil’s Favourite Nephew’.” He adamantly turned away from the man, decidedly facing the car window scowling.

 

Techno gritted his teeth so loudly that Tommy could practically hear them and started the car forwards again, “look, Tommy, I don’t hate you. I never claimed to hate you.”

 

Tommy turned back to Techno, his eyes intentionally watering again.

 

He gave a small, shaky smile, “You mean it?” His voice was significantly smaller than usual.

 

Techno shrugged, his scarlet eyes back on the road ahead, lighting up occasionally from the light of a lamppost, “sure.”

 

Tommy grinned at that, a wide smile stretching across his face, “Thanks! Also I really don’t care if I annoy you!”

 

Techno’s jaw clenched, “No. I didn’t think you did.”

 

Tommy’s grin widened and he went back to telling Techno about the time he and Tubbo had spent six months stealing every whiteboard pen their maths teacher owned before getting noticed and receiving multiple after-school detentions.

 

Techno seemed to take it as his saving grace when they finally pulled up in a dismal car park beside a large, deserted looking building that Tommy and Tubbo occasionally passed on their way into the city but never paid much attention to.

 

Techno opened his car door and Tommy followed suit. He didn’t miss Techno’s breath of relief the moment he stepped foot out of the car.

 

The temperature was incredibly harsh, even for December. The below freezing temperature immediately felt like a slap in Tommy’s face, causing his teeth to chatter and shivers to wrack his body. He remembered Sam asking if he needed a coat before they set off for Wilbur’s and him adamantly denying it – a choice he highly regretted now. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

 

Sam – what would Tommy tell his father when this madness ended and he was dropped back with Wilbur?

 

Tommy didn’t want to think about it.

 

Techno grunted at him, “Kid, you ever gonna come over here? I thought you wanted to meet George.”

 

Tommy, realising that he had been standing frozen in place, blinked and nodded, withdrawn from his thoughts.

 

The two started towards the building, walking through the dismal car park before approaching the door to the tall building. Tommy tried to ignore his heard pounding in his chest and his breathing getting shallower as they neared; worry rising in his stomach at the unknown setting.

 

Techno pushed the door open, ushering Tommy into the entrance who stepped in, barely daring to look ahead of him. However, contrastingly from what he believed would happen, warmth flooded his body and bright yellow lights welcomed him into a surprisingly tastefully decorated room. The run-down appearance of the outside of the building could not juxtapose the brightly lit inside with a desk and a sofa furnishing the room.

 

Techno wasted no time in striding across the room to another door at the opposite end and stepping into the next room.

 

Tommy scrambled to follow him, darting out of the room and into a new room featuring a grand, carpeted staircase.

 

The pair started up the staircase silently; all of Tommy’s energy from earlier seemed to have evaporated mysteriously. Tommy trailed after Techno all the way, slouched over.

 

Eventually they reached the top floor of the building and entered a pair of huge gilded doors. The room ahead was even larger than the entrance. But what shocked Tommy the most was the sheer number of books that lined the walls – rows of shelves stretching from floor to ceiling crammed together in the dusty, yellow light of fake candles in stands scattered around and a single chandelier in the centre of the room. Curtains were drawn over huge windows, blocking natural light out to preserve the books.

 

Techno started out into the rows of shelves, Tommy still following dutifully - speechless from the sight of so many books.

 

Tommy couldn’t help but think about how Tubbo would hate this place unless the pair of boys were running around or causing some other kind of chaos.

 

As they entered a cramped aisle, a tall and thin man ran up to them, smiling widely.

 

“TECHNO! Hello! Lovely seeing you here again! It’s been a while!” his enthusiasm was only matched by Tommy’s own.

 

The man was wearing a purple hoodie with an odd swirling pattern in the middle that looked homemade – messy stitching attached differently coloured sleeves and hood to the main body. Another thing that peaked Tommy’s interest was the goggles that he had on his head. They looked like stream punk goggles but with one eye purple and the other green. They had the same swirl in each glass as his hoodie had.

 

The man’s warm brown eyes seemed to catch sight of Tommy and he smiled at the boy, who awkwardly lifted the corners of his mouth slightly.

 

“Hello, I’ve not seen you before! What’s your name?”

 

Techno immediately pushed Tommy back, looking intently at Tommy, “Don’t tell him. Don’t tell anyone here your name.”

 

“Why not?” Tommy questioned immediately, confused at the strange orders.

 

The man took that moment to interrupt, “Because we’re friends with a fae! Techno and I are safe because we’re both magical in some sense but you,” he moved uncomfortably close, shoving his face in front of Tommy’s, “you look human.”

 

He smiled again and Techno shoved him back, muttering something about personal space,

 

“I’m Karl by the way! My pronouns are he/they/xe - it’s lovely to meet you!”

 

Tommy nodded slightly, “He/they,” he muttered.

 

Karl’s smile seemed to brighten.

 

“Anyway,” Techno cleared his throat, “We should probably go and see George now. He’s expecting us. I think. I may have forgotten to tell him but that’s not my problem.”

 

“Of course!” Karl pointed to his left, “He’s over there!”

 

Technoblade nodded and led Tommy to a plush armchair in the corner that seated a short man (who seemed engrossed in a book) with delicate features, an extensive amount of jewellery and an outfit not dissimilar to Techno’s.

 

Tommy began to wonder what the deal was with people wearing crowns was.

 

But then the man looked up at Tommy and the world seemed to freeze.

 

Ice flooded through Tommy’s veins, shutting his body off and he stood in place; completely still, something that didn’t usually happen.

 

Tommy stared at the man, who looked intently back as if he was studying Tommy for a piece of art.

 

After what felt like hours Techno cleared his throat loudly, calling the man’s eyes up to him and away from Tommy.

 

“Ah, Techno,” the man’s voice was smooth and velvety with a ring of musicality to it, “To what do I owe the pleasure of one of your visits?” He asked, putting his book down and leaping to his feat, seemingly ignoring the laws of gravity. He seemed to float where he stood, not allowing the floor to touch his boots.

 

Techno, however, did not treat him with the same reverence that Tommy would have. He coughed again and stated bluntly, “I wanted to ask you something, George.”

 

Ah, so this was George. Tommy should have expected that to be honest but his mind was too muddled from seeing the man.

 

“Of course. However I do not remember ever meeting your new friend. I am George Found, child. And you are?”

 

The overwhelming desire to tell George his name flooded Tommy’s senses - even to the point of Tommy not complaining about being called a child. He barely remembered Techno’s warning from earlier. He opened his mouth, about to tell George when Techno interrupted,

 

“You don’t need to know. He’s here because someone broke into Phil’s house and attacked him. They seemed to be after something.”

 

George frowned, “Well, that IS exiting.” He paused, “However I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

 

Techno scowled, “Yeah, well I think it does. Or you at least have some idea of what could be going on.”

 

This triggered George to raise his eyebrows and intently look at Tommy with the same gaze he had beheld Tommy with, “Continue…” he prompted.

 

Techno, continuing to be entirely blunt, stated, “I think it was Dream.”

 

George blinked with a surprise that was impossible to get a sense of how real it was. “Dream?” He questioned Techno, his voice cool and sounding like an interrogation question.

 

Techno nodded in response, frowning, “Yeah. Dream. You know, annoying dickhead who claims to have reformed to leech off of the council. Your ex boyfriend.”

 

George opened his mouth somewhat angrily, “Okay. First of all Dream and I were not dating. Secondly he really has reformed - he hasn’t hurt anyone in hundreds of years. You’re just jealous that people actually like him.”

 

Techno snorted, “He sounds a lot like your boyfriend. Also I wouldn’t be jealous of that prick - not after I left him in the dust after our little competition. And I don’t need validation from other people.”

 

George sighed, apparently deciding that this was a battle not worth fighting, “Regardless of how you feel, you know you can’t just blame him for everything.”

 

“Yes I can and I think he’s after the Book.”

 

George groaned at that, pinching the top of his nose bridge, “Techno, PLEASE stop this for once. The Revive Book’s a myth and you know it.”

 

Techno nodded affirmatively, “Yes it it. However Dream may not think so; he could have gone after it.”

 

George scowled, “Look, I know Dream and you don’t like each other after the war but PLEASE stop blaming him for everything. And I suggest you leave your little friend here out of it.”

 

“WAIT,” Tommy took this as his perfect opportunity to interrupt the conversation, “What war?”

 

George’s features softened again and he looked back at Tommy, “A war fought for independence decades ago. Techno and Dream fought a lot over it. The still hate each other now.”

 

“Hang on,” Techno started, “I don’t HATE Dream. I just seriously dislike him.”

 

“DECADES?!” Tommy burst out, his mind swelling with the new input of mind-boggling information.

 

“Of course,” George spoke quickly over Techno, “magic slows down your body’s ageing. Techno and I are both a few decades old.”

 

Tommy blinked, about to ask a few hundred questions before Techno interrupted, “Anyway, thank you, George. Please let us know if you see anything? Or if you talk to your ex again.”

 

George looked coldly at Techno at the taunt, “ Of course.” His tone matched his expression perfectly.

 

Techno nodded calmly before quite literally pulling Tommy away from George and to the door, ignoring how Tommy was seemingly in a state of shock and unable to speak.

 

The made their way down the stairs, passing Karl again who waved and called, “BYE TECHNO AND STRANGE CHILD!” before they exited the room and headed down the stairs into the icy winter air once more.

Notes:

Hello again!! :D

I know I said I may not update this week but thankfully I finished most of this chapter last week so I only needed to finish the final scene today.

Sorry about any typos - I normally write on my laptop but I’m on my phone currently so there may be more than usual (feel free to let me know about any tho!!)

Sooo yeah… on a slightly different not it’s getting harder to keep consistent with this since I didn’t plan much before writing so sorry about any inconsistencies with the rest of the plot aaaaa

Have a wonderful day and thanks for reading as always!!

(Also yes, I did want an excuse to confirm Tommy’s pronouns in this, shut up /lh)

Chapter 5: Dream gets angry

Summary:

TW: Violence, somewhat controlling behavior

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The two began the trek through the deserted car park back to Techno’s car, Tommy still in silence, wondering the whole time what exactly was going on.

 

He’d been told so much in the last few hours and yet so little - apparently fae and other magical creatures were real, people could practise magic now, there was another dimension, Techno was apparently centuries old and he had to be careful with who he told his name or god knows what might happen (he certainly didn’t know - no one had bothered to explain to him what would happen if George somehow did find his name)

 

Once they were seated in the car Tommy looked intently at Techno, “I think that I deserve a full explanation now.”

 

Techno raised an eyebrow, “I have given you multiple explanations for various things.”

 

“Telling me a bunch of random information that I don’t know what to do with doesn’t count, Techno!” Tommy burst out, looking daggers at the man next to him. Techno remained still, looking down at the steering wheel his eyes unmoving. Tommy noticed that he was tapping his fingers against the wheel again. Techno, like himself, rarely ever seemed to stop moving. At that thought Tommy realised that he was bouncing his leg anxiously and forced himself to stop.

 

“Look, I’ve said before that I think I should be careful with what I say. I don’t want you to get any more involved with this that you have to be.”

 

Tommy stared wide-eyed at him, “Well there’s no point in saying that now! I AM involved now and by not telling me these things you’re making the situation arguably worse! Don’t you think that I need to know to protect myself? I don’t even know why I can’t tell that George guy my name!”

 

Techno exhaled heavily, “ I’ve told you before that George is a fae. With your name he can control you fairly easily. Now you’re related to Phil, who had some level of magic, so you may be protected but we don’t know for sure.”

 

Tommy didn’t respond but was thankful that things were starting to make some more sense than they did earlier, “Thank you- wait, what do you mean that Phil was magical?”

 

Techno, starting the car, said, “How did you think I knew him? We me at a meeting in the Council. He was a witch - though not a particularly powerful one.”

 

Tommy stared, open mouthed, “My UNCLE was a WITCH?!” Techno nodded, “AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO TELL ME?!” Tommy was yelling at this point, wide eyed and incredulous that no one had thought to tel him this fairly vital piece of information.

 

Techno shrugged, pulling out of the parking space, “I assumed that you would have guessed by now. Clearly you’re not as intelligent as Phil thought you are.”

 

Tommy’s mind was going at what felt like light speed; he barely registered the insult so instead - after stuttering a bit - asked, “So is magic genetic? Or can anyone be a witch?”

 

“Well that depends on what you mean by witch. If you mean mortal witches who work with energy then yes, anyone can do that. But if you mean witches like your uncle and I then it’s genetic - a lot of people are natural witches but never think to practise because they don’t even know magic exists; but only a small amount of people can do magic - mostly only hybrids and other magical species can practise.”

 

“So…” Tommy’s mind had now gone from super fast to completely unable to work, “If Phil was magic then…” He let his voice trail off.

 

“You may be able to, yes,” Techno shrugged - they were on the main road at this point, “However you may not know for a long time. Phil may not have been powerful enough for the magic to pass to you.” Tommy didn’t notice the way that Techno shiftily looked away from him.

 

“Oh. How long will it take for me to know?”

 

“No idea.” Techno turned onto a smaller road; Tommy noticed the smallest sliver of sunlight pushing the darkness away on the horizon, “Could be minutes to years. Usually you’ll show some traits before you’re twenty one, but not always.”

 

“What traits?” Tommy was eager to ask.

 

Techno’s mouth drew into a thin line, “Usually you show traits like moving things be accident without touching them or creating sparks on your hand. It depends on what kind of magic you have.”

 

“What kinds of magic are there?”

 

“Well, the most common kind is elemental. Manipulating the elements around you. That’s the most like the magic that humans can practise. However there’s also things like death magic, sigils and just boosting traits like strength and stamina which are more common in hybrids such as myself. Other things like teleportation and telekinesis are also possible, but very rare and near impossible to learn unless you’re a natural at it.

 

“Oh. What do you do?”

 

“Me? I just practise elemental magic. My Nether blood prevents me from doing much else because I’ve already got naturally increased strength and speed. Magic’s very good at stopping people from being overpowered; if you’re particularly strong in some way you’ll be weak in others - so anyone who’s exceptionally powerful would probably be fairly easy to defeat with something fairly simple.”

 

Tommy just nodded at that before plucking up the courage to ask, “What about Phil?”

 

“He practised death magic, mostly. Very good at it technically but not especially naturally gifted.”

 

Techno’s previous statement struck Tommy’s mind, prompting him to ask, “What did you mean by the Council?

 

”Magic politics, I suppose. It’s like a government for magic folk. It’s led by three Elders - Puffy, the head Elder, Eret and Skeppy. There are other jobs and such, for example I’m a detective for the Council and Eret used to work at preventing humans from discovering us before they got promoted to an elder. It may sound interesting now to you but after you’ve been to hundreds of council meetings you begin to develop a different opinion. They also stop anyone from doing dangerous things with magic - like intentionally practising in public even though mortal’s minds are programmed to ignore magic; it’s a safety mechanism, I suppose. They also look after dangerous magical artefacts.”

 

“Is there only one council?

 

”No, most countries have one however the L‘manberg one here is sort of the headquarters. They rule only over L’manberg but most meetings are held here since the population of witches and other magical beings is densest here in Esempii.”

 

Tommy nodded again and the car continued down the road which had now morphed into a winding road with a canopy of trees at each side, the forest hinting that they were close to the Craft Manor.

 

Tommy sat in surprise, wondering how so much time had passed so quickly - he knew that he had a tendency to forget about time and space when thinking particularly hard but it rarely got so prominent that almost an hour could pass without his realisation.

 

Eventually the car passed through the iron gates that swung open for them ominously and they pulled up to the drive of the manor - the two people inside still in complete silence.

 

Tommy felt Techno’s gaze fall on him for a brief period of time before Techno spoke, “Well that certainly was more peaceful than the drive to George’s”

 

It was at that moment, ironically, that the window beside Tommy smashed, pulling a scream from his throat.

 

Tommy flung himself towards Techno, grabbing the man’s arm as a fist descended on the windshield shattering the glass and letting the freezing air into the car.

 

A man’s face was visible through the broken windshield - a man with a crazed grin, blonde hair and a white hoodie. The same man from earlier except this time he looked even more like a stereotypical serial killer with blood flowing from his fist where glass had clearly stabbed into his hand when he punched the glass and a bruise on his temple.

 

“Hello,” he said in a raspy voice that clawed at Tommy’s mind and fear paralysed his body yet again.

 

“TOMMY, RUN!” Techno yelled, reaching over Tommy and throwing the door open, trying the avoid the man who stood on the front of the car, still leaning down.

 

Tommy, running purely on adrenaline, did not hesitate to obey, frantically undoing his seatbelt and throwing himself out of the door.

 

The man reacted as quickly as Tommy had, however with more grace and speed than Tommy’s clumsy, panicked movements. He leaped off of the car onto the ground and began to sprint after Tommy who had ran immediately to the only place he thought he could be safe in - the forest.

 

Tommy entered the trees which blocked out the little light that the rising sun provided, sprinting desperately through the trees in near pitch black, just avoiding several trees that he almost crashed into. He didn’t dare to look back, didn’t dare to think about his burning legs and lungs, didn’t dare to wonder where Techno was. He just kept running, blocking any thoughts out that told him that this was where we would die.

 

Instead he focused on running, placing each foot down after the other and keeping an even pace.

 

He could hear the man behind him - Tommy knew he was fast so he kept turning round corners and trying to narrowly avoid as many trees as possible. He didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going - half formed plans flew around his brain, all wild and impossible. So he just kept running.

 

Eventually Tommy reached s clearing - specks of light hit the ground in patches but not enough for Tommy to be able to see clearly. What he did see, however, was the glistening water of what Tommy took to be the lake that he and Wilbur had a picnic at years ago.

 

Tommy decided what he’d do a split second before he did it; as the man ran at him at full speed Tommy quickly darted to the side and placed a hand on the man’s back, pushing him forwards into the cold, murky water.

 

Tommy heard the splash and something dropping, however he didn’t hear anyone resurfacing. He stood frozen, not breathing, waiting for the man to pull him in as well or for him to be attacked as well.

 

However what he heard instead was the crunch of footsteps on leaves from behind him. He quickly whirled around, raising his hands in a defensive position hoping to block any attack that would be thrown at him.

 

The steps stopped beside Tommy and he squinted to make our Techno’s large form.

 

“Well,” Techno said, “he seems to be gone.”

 

Tommy - with great effort - forced his vocal chords to work, “Y- yeah…”

 

Techno seemed to sense Tommy’s confusion, “Remember when I said earlier that being strong in certain types of magic made you weaker in others?” Tommy nodded, “Well I think that’s what happened. He was resistant to fire my so he was weak to water. It’s a fairly common pattern.”

 

Tommy nodded again, trying not to enter yet another state of shock. He saw Techno’s head move up and down slightly in a nod, “Well done, by the way.” Techno said to him.

 

“What- what for?” Tommy replied.

 

“He was fairly skilled. You managed to not only avoid him but to kill him as well, even if you didn’t know his weaknesses. Not many people could do that - especially not with as little training as you.”

 

Tommy nodded and tried to put his arrogant facade back on, “Yeah, well. I’m an alpha male, what can I say?”

 

Techno, for the first time, laughed at Tommy’s joke and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

 

Together they walked back through the woods in the golden light of the sunrise.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

Once the two people had left the lakeside Punz dragged himself out of the muddy water, coughing up a mouthful of water and struggling to breath.

 

He’d learned how to hold his breath under water for long periods of time years ago and it seemed to finally come into use. He ignored the burning in him lungs and instead attempted to get onto his knees from the position he was currently in of lying on his stomach on the muddy shore of the lake.

 

He carefully stood up on shaky legs, trying to control his trembling hands.

 

While he knew that he would recover quickly enough from the water he also knew that it was no use going back to fight Technoblade and the boy. While, it’s true, he was weak to water his power up wasn’t powerful enough for water to kill him. Dream had made sure of that when he gave Punz the extra magic.

 

Instead, Punz removed one of his spare enderpears from his pocket, grimacing at his dwindling stash. He’d have to go back to the Nether soon to get more.

 

He glanced around - the forest was slightly more visible than it had been when he was chasing the boy. Light flecked around the floor, lighting up the trees that surrounded the lake.

 

Freezing cold but burning with shame from the idea that a young human boy had defeated him (no - not defeated. Punz had every intention of returning to get the key and probably kill him in the process) Punz threw the pearl as far away from the Craft Manor as possible, his heart rate picking up as he felt the rush of adrenaline that accompanied enderpearl travel.

 

The world went black for a moment and then, with a jolt of pain running through his body, Punz re-emerged just outside of the woods on the opposite side of the gate - an impossible feat for most but he’d been training with enderpearl throwing for decades.

 

He grimaced, the sharp pain quickly fading from his bones and he began to walk forwards with no idea where he was going but knowing that he’d find Dream eventually.

 

The sun was well and truly in the sky when he finally teleported to Dream’s side in a large, plain white room in Dream’s base near the ruins of Pogtopia. The room was largely unfurnished apart from a single desk and an empty shelf; a door was at the opposite end from where Punz was.

 

The man slowly turned his head to look at Punz, his face obscured by the unnerving white mask. Punz attempted to control his breathing and tried not to vomit - his stomach would be off after teleporting over ten times in a few hours at the best of times; the combination of his weakness from the water and the look that he knew would be on Dream’s face only emphasised his nausea.

 

“I see that you’re back.” Dream’s voice was even cooler than usual, anger lacing his words delicately. Punz knew that Dream most likely already knew what ha happened but it did little to lessen the fear of the man in front of him.

 

“Yes, sir.” Punz said shortly, reluctant to converse with Dream when he knew that Dream was beyond furious.

 

“I see you do not have the key.” Dream tilted his head to one side. Punz could guess what his expression was but he wished he knew for sure. The porcelain mask with the daunting smile made the anxiety that already dug its claws into his stomach much worse.

 

Before Punz could even consider replying, Dream laughed coldly: ice that constricted Punz’s lungs stopping him from breathing correctly. “Defeated by a child, Punz. I thought you were stronger than this.” Dream paused, “I suppose not.”

 

“I- I’m sorry, Dream.” Punz hated how weak his shaking voice sounded - that probably didn’t do anything to convince Dream that he really was strong, “I was caught off guard; don’t worry though, I plan on returning to deliver you the key and Technoblade’s head. They boy’s too, if possible.”

Dream didn’t respond; instead he simply stepped closer to Punz. Punz’s breathing sped up and he thought how this was a million times worse than the water had been. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking because of how the water weakened him or fear.

 

“Oh, you will.” Dream was no longer projecting his voice - now he was nearly whispering at Punz which somehow was more terrifying than it had been before, “You know what will happen if you fail me again, don’t you?”

 

Punz frantically nodded, not trusting his voice.

 

Dream stood still for a moment not moving a single muscle.

 

Eventually, he stepped away from Punz’s and turned his back to the man, slowly walking away. Punz felt his body physically slump forwards as he relaxed.

 

Then Dream turned back to him and all the fear and anxiety flooded Punz’s exhausted body yet again.

 

“Come,” was all Dream said leading the way to the door. Punz didn’t hesitate to follow him out into the corridor, almost stumbling in his haste to obey. Not that it was really possible for Punz to stumble - his training had stopped most flaws in his movement.

 

The corridor stretched out a long way - the base was hidden but huge - with thousands of different rooms, most that Punz couldn’t even begin to guess what their contents were.

 

He expected them to turn off at the library or the hospital, however Dream continued to keep walking in silence. The pair’s footsteps were near silent despite the stone that tended to amplify any noise and bounce it around the walls.

 

After about ten minutes of mundane walking Dream sharply turned and pushed open a door that Punz wouldn’t even have noticed in the white monotony of the corridor.

 

The room was a stark contrast with what little of the building Punz had seen so far - the walls were a cool shade of grey with multiple comfy looking sofas and a soft rug in the centre. Candles on tall stands resided burning in each corner - not that they were needed due to the wall length windows that let the late morning sun into the room, illuminating several exquisite paintings that hung on the walls.

 

On one of the sofas a man sat; his posture perfect and legs crossed. Punz immediately recognised the face of George Found, even though he hadn’t seen the fae since… well, he couldn’t have see George since the war, probably. It was common knowledge that when Sapnap had died in the Pogtopia War the remaining two members of the Dream Team had split away from each other. Punz had chosen to remain loyal to Dream, so he hadn’t seen George in years. He stared at the man, wondering if his eyes were working properly. It’s not every day you see an old friend you hadn’t met in literal centuries.

 

George, however, immediately looked past Punz and at Dream.

 

“Ah, Dream. It has been a while, old friend.” George said calmly, his demeanour matched by Dream’s who stood unnaturally sill, mask still on.

 

Dream inclined his head to the other, “That it has.”

 

Silence fell between the three - still no one acknowledging Punz’s existence.

 

Eventually, Dream sighed, “Cut the chase, George. What do you want?”

 

George smiled slightly after a brief pause, “Ah Dream. Always so impatient. Tell me, when did we become so cold towards each other?”

 

Dream impulsively scowled, “We stopped being friends when you left when I needed you the most.”

 

“Look, I’ve told you that it was best for both of us.”

 

Dream narrowed his eyes, “I’m not getting into this now. This conversation isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Punz blinked in surprise at this statement - Dream rarely gave up an argument.

 

“That’s fair.” George stood up and tilted his head slightly to look at Dream - if it were a few hundred years ago Punz knew that the two would be having a lighthearted argument about the height difference. George continued speaking, “I’m here on business.”

 

“Is that so?” Dream lifted his mask up, resting it so it was half on-half off his face.

 

George nodded. “It is to do with the Elders.” Dream raised an eyebrow at this piece of information, “You see, they let me know that a while ago two of their employees disappeared. They were called Smallish and Solidarity. They were sent to… watch you.”

 

Dream’s other eyebrow rose with the first, “They were spies?”

 

George shrugged, “Sure. You could call them that. Are you surprised that you’re being watched by the Council, given your track record?”

 

“Of course not.” Dream paused before speaking again, “Well, do you have any idea where they are?”

 

George laughed in a way that seemed to be mocking, “One would think that you’d be intelligent enough by now to realise that if we knew where they are they would not be lost.”

 

“Well, what do you want from me then? I didn’t even know they were spying on me, let alone where they are now.” Dream’s words were cool and the almost unseeable glare on his face didn’t go unnoticed by Punz or - he guessed - George. To most Dream would look almost entirely calm but Punz could almost sense the anger that bubbled in his stomach. Punz shut his eyes for a second, praying that Dream would be able to keep control of his anger - that didn’t happen very often though.

 

“Well,” George said, “They wanted to know if you knew anything.”

 

“Well I don’t.” Dream’s words were spoken curtly and bluntly, the angry heat behind them almost palpable. “And I don’t see why they sent YOU to ask me.”

 

George shrugged, clearly trying to repress a smile of amusement from the sight of Dream’s anger, “I needed a way to get back into their good books. Elder Puffy was starting to get suspicious of me again; it’s been a while since I did anything for her and the Council is naturally suspicious of fae. We need to stay as “clean as possible”. I don’t want to get arrested.” A small smile played across George’s face.

 

“Okay, well you can go back to tell them that I don’t know anything. They could turn up tomorrow safe and well.”

 

George laughed, sounding like a bell quietly ringing, “They won’t. They turned up yesterday.”

 

That seemed to be the last straw for Dream and he was quick to burst out, “Then why the hell are you here, you-”

 

“They’re dead.” George’s voice was quiet but it still easily overpowered Dream’s yelling.

 

“Oh.”

 

Dream spoke again, “You think I did it.”

 

“I didn’t say that - however I would be lying if I said that the elders - especially Elder Eret - were not suspicious of you.”

 

“Right. Well you can tell them that I stopped killing long ago. They, of all people, should know that I’ve changed significantly after the war considering the amount of people they’ve apparently had spying on me.”

 

George shrugged, “I’ll let them know your response.”

 

“Leave, then.”

 

George hesitated, “That wasn’t the whole reason I came to see you.”

 

Dream sighed, “I could never have guessed.” His words dripped with sarcasm.

 

George smiled coldly again before speaking, “Technoblade came to see me a few hours ago.”

 

Dream recoiled and then froze looking like a deer caught in headlights, “Technoblade? Why?”

 

“He wished to talk about you. He believes that you sent someone to break into Philza Craft’s old mansion to steal something, almost killing Philza’s nephew in the process.”

 

Punz felt his heart jump to his throat. He made sure to hide his discomfort but he knew that if George suspected anyone of breaking in it would be him.

 

Punz didn’t miss George’s eyes briefly flickering to him before he looked back at Dream.

 

“That’s ridiculous.” Dream snapped - Punz knew that while it would convince most George definitely noticed the pause before Dream spoke. “What on earth would I want from him? He isn’t even a particularly skilled witch and I haven’t seen him in years.”

 

George shrugged, “Just thought I’d let you know.”

 

Punz had a feeling that George was intentionally skipping over some information.

 

George ignored the slightly stunned silence and walked briskly to the door. Without even a goodbye he pulled it open and left Dream and Punz alone together in the room.

 

Punz watched Dream intently; the man’s expression was void of emotion but his fists were clenched and he was trembling in place with his eyes fixed on the door that was now slightly ajar.

 

After a few minutes, Dream suddenly broke out in a flame of anger, throwing his fist through the door with none of the careful moments he usually used. A loud crash echoed through the corridor.

 

Punz stood completely still, not wishing to draw any attention to himself. Dream froze again, his fist still through the hole in the door, shaking even more as breaths rattled his lungs much faster then usual. Punz knew that he was no longer looking at the man with great control over his emotions and careful moments that were deliberately practised to make sure that he was as fast and graceful as possible.

 

Dream, as quickly as he had punched the wall, withdrew his and and whipped around to face Punz, who caught a glimpse of his face properly. His eyes were pulled wide, mouth in a thin line and his eyebrows pulled down in an expression of pure, terrifying anger.

 

It had been a long time since Punz saw Dream like this. He had been careful not to lose control again since the last time he got thrown into prison.

 

“Come.” Was all Dream said and, for the second time, Punz silently resigned himself to following, hoping and praying that Dream wouldn’t try to harm him in the same way he used to try and take his anger out on Sapnap.

 

In the corridor, Dream, who seemed to be struggling to form words, growled at Punz, “Go to your room. I can’t deal with seeing you anymore.” before he marched down the corridor to god knows where.

 

Punz, finally, let out the breath he had barely dared to take.

 

He slouched down from his strict posture that he kept whenever people were around - thankfully the corridor was as deserted as it usually was.

 

He shut his eyes for a moment, intentionally breathing deeply, before walking the opposite way that Dream went - returning to his room as he’d been asked, completely forgetting about the ender pearls that he needed to get.

 

As soon as he opened the door to his room he leaped across the length of it, falling down onto the bed.

 

The combination of water, fighting and being up all night finally took over and he shut his eyes, not bothering to get changed, blocking out all thoughts of the previous conversation.

 

He couldn’t help thinking that those were thoughts for him to unpack later, as the void of dreamless sleep claimed him.

Notes:

Hey everyone!!

TWO UPDATES?! Yeah, I have nothing better to do so here’s another chapter written on my phone - as always feel free to let me know about typos!!

I originally planned for Punz to die here, but I decided to let him live for a bit because I’m a coward and don’t like killing characters (but always know that Jimmy and Joel could’ve been in this had they not died before they could be introduced).

ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day and I’ll (hopefully) see you when I next update!

Chapter 6: Crime Boys and War

Notes:

TW: Vomit, panic attacks, blood, war, death

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Techno and Tommy approached the manor slowly. Techno seemed immediately to understand that Tommy was beyond exhausted, which Tommy was more than thankful for.

 

Even at Techno’s slow pace however, Tommy trailed behind the man, his legs aching and lungs burning.

 

After about half an hour, the two made it finally to the door of the house which was still off its hinges - though was now leaning beside the doorframe outside the house. Techno looked at Tommy,

 

“Did you move the door?”

 

“No. I assumed you did.”

 

Techno shook his head, staring at the entrance to the house silently.

 

Tommy took the opportunity to shove Techno out of the way and march into the building – only to notice that the lights were on and some of the windows open.

 

“Hey, wait!” Techno called, “You don’t know if it’s safe!”

 

Tommy scoffed, not bothering to turn around, “Big Man, I’ve been attacked multiple times in the past few hours. I reckon I’ll be fine.”

 

He could sense Techno’s disapproving expression – a sense that was only confirmed by Techno’s sarcastic response of, “Well alright then.”

 

The sound of Techno’s footsteps followed Tommy to the kitchen, only for them to abruptly stop with Techno almost crashing into Tommy, who had completely frozen in the doorway.

 

A tall, thin man caught Tommy’s attention – he had short, messy brown hair and was turned to face the recently broken window.

 

He slowly turned around to face Tommy, eyes narrowed, and mouth pressed into a thin line, “Tommy.” Wilbur’s quiet tone screamed at Tommy to run away as quickly as possible, “What the fuck did you do?”

 

Tommy automatically stepped back, somewhat crashing into Techno, who remained unmoved by the contact. Tommy thought he’d been afraid when he was attacked, but that paled in comparison to the look that Wilbur was giving him; pinning him in place and causing his words to stick in his throat. The expression looked so alien on Wilbur’s face that usually sported a bright smile or laughter – Tommy didn’t think he’d ever seen Wilbur angry, and he definitely did not want to see it again.

 

“I- um…” Tommy could barely speak; mostly unsure of what to say. How would he explain this? He never wished more than this moment that he could turn invisible, or disappear from the face of the Earth or just do SOMETHING that could get him away from Wilbur’s accusatory gaze. However, because he could not do those things, he resorted to shuffling on the spot, twisting the hem of his t-shirt around his hands and trying desperately to avoid eye contact.

 

Then, Wilbur looked up and away from Tommy. A look of surprise overtook the fury that had previously been on his face, his eyes widening and his mouth opening slightly, “Techno?” Now it was his turn to freeze in place as he stared at Technoblade, “What are you doing here? I thought you left already. And what are you doing with Tommy?” He spoke the last sentence as more of an accusation than a question.

 

Techno shrugged, clearly unaffected by the look of daggers that Wilbur had now aimed at his rather than Tommy, “I was around the area and I heard Tommy being attacked.”

 

Wilbur’s mouth opened even more and be backed away slightly, taken aback by the news; his eyes, still open like saucers, flickered between Tommy and Techno before he proceeded to blink rapidly.

 

Tommy couldn’t help but think about how stupid his cousin looked at that moment.

 

“You- you what?” Now it was Wilbur’s turn to be lost for words. His gaze fixed back on Tommy, “You got attacked?!”

 

Tommy shrugged, trying (only partially successfully) to maintain his nonchalant expression, “Multiple times, actually.”

 

If Tommy thought that Wilbur’s eyes couldn’t widen any further, he was proven wrong at that moment. “You- got attacked? What? Why are you with Techno? What happened?”

 

“Dream.” Was Techno’s only response.

 

Wilbur swallowed and nodded quickly, “Right. Okay.”  He glanced at Tommy, “So I take it you know about magic now, then?”

 

Tommy nodded, breathing slowly to attempt to calm his heartrate.

 

“R- right. Okay. Do you know about me and Phil, then?”

 

Tommy blinked at the question that seemed to come out of nowhere, “Uhh… I know Phil could do magic, if that’s what you mean?”

 

Wilbur shut his eyes, rubbing his face slowly, before speaking to Techno again, “You didn’t tell him? Surely that’s pretty vital information.”

 

Techno frowned, “I didn’t know how much Phil would want me to tell him. Plus, I thought that you might want to tell him.”

 

Wilbur sighed theatrically; Tommy supposed that it was good that his cousin wasn’t so shocked that he couldn’t even give exaggerated responses to things.

 

After a few moments of only slightly awkward silence Wilbur spoke to Tommy, “Phil’s alive.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Tommy couldn’t think of what else to say – after a night full of revelations and absurdity this piece of information seemed to be the least important thing he’d been told in a while.

 

“Oh?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow – something he had spent weeks learning how to do a few years ago.

 

“What do you want me to say, bitch boy? That doesn’t seem very important compared to some of the other shit I’ve been told today.”

 

Wilbur frowned, “Well… I’d just expected a greater reaction from you, that’s all.”

 

Tommy scowled, “We don’t all practise facial expressions in the mirror for acting purposes, you know.”

 

Wilbur looked indignant at that, his expression only growing more dramatic as Techno snorted in laughter.

 

“Well,” he spoke to Tommy again, “What if I told you he’s also your father?”

 

Time seemed to slow down – Tommy felt his body freeze up. Okay, he thought, this was news.

 

"He's what-?" Tommy demanded, refusing to believe that he heard Wilbur correctly.

 

Wilbur swallowed, his jaw clenching, "Your dad." He froze, hesitating anxiously. “I- Tommy... we’re brothers.”

 

Tommy stood in place, facial expression remaining unchanged. He could feel the panic rising in his chest again; his breathing pace speeding up as he gasped for air, feeling like a fish out of water. He tasted the bitter flavour of bile on his unusually dry tongue which he swallowed with great effort. The lights surrounding him seemed far too bright all of a sudden and he frantically threw out a hand to the counter to hold his body up; the world spun around him and he clenched his jaw, trying desperately not to throw up.

 

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was unusually timid, sounding concerned and shaky.

 

Another wave of nausea wracked Tommy’s body and he tore his hand from the counter, reaching for the bin and wretched into it.

 

So much had happened that night, and it all seemed to catch up to him in that moment; he had been attacked – almost killed; he had just discovered that magic was real; some really powerful witch was apparently after him and now his dead ‘uncle’ was not only apparently alive, but not even his uncle. Tommy couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

 

By the time he’d finished throwing up what little was in his stomach he grabbed back onto the counter in a desperate but futile attempt to steady his shaking body. Were his legs always this weak? That couldn’t seem to be able to support his weight.

 

“Tommy?” Somehow Wilbur seemed even more concerned and desperate than before.

 

Tommy still didn’t have the energy to respond so he instead kept both his mouth and eyes clamped shut.

 

“Tommy,” Wilbur’s voice sounded for the third time, however this time he sounded gentler and calmer, “Can I touch you?”

 

Tommy could barely comprehend the request, his brain not allowing him to intake information. Instinctually, he shook his head; he didn’t think that he could handle anything else that could mess with his senses right now.

 

“Okay,” Wilbur kept the soft voice, “Tommy, can you focus on breathing please?”

 

“Can’t,” Tommy gasped, clenching his fists tighter on the counter.

 

“Tommy, listen to my breathing, yeah? I need you to do your best to copy me, okay?”

 

Tommy did his best to nod and follow along with Wilbur’s even breathing. He didn’t know how long he stood there listening to his breathing gradually slowing to match Wilbur’s, but eventually some of his panic evaporated and he felt as if he could open his eyes.

 

The world was still spinning, but it felt more like a smaller shaking rather than the huge swoops that faded to black and back to bright light ever few seconds.

 

A dull ache throbbed in his arms, and he looked down at his hands to see that he was holding the counter so hard that his knuckles were completely white.

 

Slowly, he managed to release his grip on the counter and carefully stretched his fingers out a few times to try and release the ache.

 

He turned his head to Wilbur, again slowly and with great effort, as if he was trying to move through syrup. Every movement seemed to be so much more difficult than usual. Dully, he noticed that he was still trembling – though not as badly as he had been a few minutes earlier.

 

“Hey,” Wilbur was speaking so quietly that it was barely a whisper, “You back with me?” He was frowning slightly but his eyes were wide and he was chewing his bottom lip.

 

“Y- yeah. I think so.”

 

“That’s good. Do you want to go and sit down?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright. Come on.” Wilbur’s tone still hadn’t changed. He led Tommy slowly into the living room next door and watched and Tommy shakily lowered himself onto the sofa.

 

Exhaustion had begun to set in by now – the combination of the panic attack and getting so little sleep had clearly affected Tommy much more than he thought it would have. Unconsciously, his eyes flickered shut and he fell asleep despite the adrenaline that his body was still trying to get rid of and the sour taste of bile that remained in his mouth.

 

 

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After Wilbur was sure that his younger brother was asleep the man wasted no time in turning to give Techno the best I am going to kill you look that he could muster.

 

He had woken up about an hour ago to notice that Tommy was not with him, and he needed to use the bathroom anyway so he got up from where he had been asleep.

 

He spent a long time searching the house, getting increasingly worried about Tommy; the manor was big but there was only a certain amount of places where Tommy could be. His calls to his brother grew more and more frantic as he searched every floor, desperately trying to find Tommy.

 

He reached the ground floor in a state of pure panic and looked at the front door, which was the exact moment when he felt like his heart stopped.

 

The sight of the door on the floor off its hinges immediatley made him think of the worst case scenario – had Tommy been hurt? Had he fallen into the window and been seriously injured? Wilbur could hardly bare to think of the possibilities.

 

After a moment of staring at what once was to door, Wilbur practically ran through the corridor to look into the other rooms; the living and dining rooms seemed fine but the kitchen was an entierly different story.

 

Wilbur began to panic even more at the sight of shattered glass that littered the flood and the jagged glass that framed a hole in the window.

 

He was staring at the ruined window, trying (and failing) to organise his thoughts, when footsteps behind alerted him to people in the house. He turned round, body tense, half expecting to see someone who had tried to kidnap his little brother but instead was greeted with Tommy and someone else who he couldn’t be bothered to focus on.

 

But now, after Tommy's panic attack, Wilbur was staring at Techno, fury clouding his vision.

 

What did you do?” Wilbur growled at Technoblade, wanting to harm anyone who had hurt the boy – the person who caused Tommy to have such a severe mental breakdown.

 

Techno held his hands up defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

 

Wilbur’s even angrier look immediately showed the other that he didn’t believe that.

 

“Look, I told you already. I was in the area and Dream sent someone to attack Tommy. I saved his life.”

 

“What did you do after that?” Now Wilbur had to force his voice to be calmer in case he began yelling and accidentally woke Tommy.

 

“Well, the kid seemed pretty adamant that he wanted to come with me to see George.”

 

“Oh, really?” Wilbur didn’t bother to mask the disbelief in his voice.

 

Yes. I tried to stop him on multiple occasions, but he insisted that I’d be leaving him in more danger and more confused if I walked away. So I took him with me.”

 

“You took him with you? To see a faerie?”

 

Techno shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah. Anyway, that went fine and all, but then we got attacked by the same person again as we arrived back here. Tommy managed to get away and push him into the lake. He clearly had some sort of spell that made him fire resistant, so the water killed him.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Wilbur couldn’t think of what else to say. That did sound like something that Tommy would do, honestly. Even so, it didn’t mean that he was exactly happy with Technoblade.

 

Techno cleared his throat, “Anyway. It’s nice to see you again. It’s been a while.”

 

Wilbur simply nodded, exhaustion overpowering the anger that he felt just a few moments ago. Plus, even though Techno shouldn’t have taken Tommy with him, he really didn’t do much wrong.

 

Techno spoke again, “Do you want some breakfast?”

 

Wilbur sighed, “It’s half four in the morning, Techno.”

 

Techno raised his eyebrows, “So? It’s the morning and I don’t suppose either of us have the intention of falling asleep.”

 

Wilbur shrugged, “Okay then.”

 

The two started towards to kitchen again but before Wilbur left the room, he turned back to look at Tommy’s sleeping form.

 

Don’t get attacked again, he thought, before following Techno out to get food.

 

 

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Approximately 300 years earlier, during the L’manberg War for Independence

 

It wasn’t often that Technoblade managed to relax.

 

Right now, however, he was sitting in his tent, polishing his sword to the perfection that it deserved. It was a gift from Philza that the two friends had jokingly named the “Orphan Obliterator”. That name didn’t seem so funny now that Techno had claimed so many lives with the weapon, but he kept the name regardless, for old time’s sake.

 

Techno took a deep breath, trying not to think about that. He was a warrior, so it was better to slaughter his enemies without a second thought. If he thought too much his mind would take over, preventing his hands from moving to slice heads off necks, plunge his weapon through chests, or pummel his fists into a head.

 

So, it was better not to think about how they were all people – people with families and friends. People with likes and dislikes. People who were desperately hoping to return home to those they loved.

 

Even so, suppressing those thoughts did not stop Techno from waking up regularly from nightmares drenched in sweat and panting heavily. He didn’t like to think about that either.

 

Techno had been asked by Phil to join him in fighting in a war for L’manberg’s independence about 50 years ago. He’d been promised that the war wouldn’t last long, however it was still going. It was the longest war Techno had participated in to date.

 

Techno was shaken from his thoughts by Puffy barging into his ro om, wild eyed and with her hair a tangled mess. Blood soaked her clothes under her armour – whether it was her blood or not remained to be discovered.

 

“Techno,” Her voice was equally as desperate as her expression, “It’s Bad. He’s been shot – we need help. Now.”

 

Techno wasted no time in leaping to his feet and lifting his sword into his hands that were now perfectly moulded to hold his weapon.

 

“Where?” He grunted at the woman, who beckoned at him.

 

They set off, running out of Techno’s tent to the battlefield, weapons ready; though they were met with none of the attacks that Techno had been expecting to be greeted with.

 

After a few minutes of sprinting across mud, over what used to be lush hills that had been worn down by trampling soldiers, the pair found a group of people on L’manberg’s side, all gathered around something. Techno hated how easy it was to guess what they were looking at.

 

Shoving through the crowd, Techno was confirmed to be correct.

 

Lying on the muddy floor lay Bad Halo – a demon who specialised in necromancy (death magic) and a known spy for L’manberg.

 

An arrow stuck out of his stomach from a tiny gap in his netherite armour. His pure white eyes were unfocused and gazing up at the cloudy, grey sky above him. Blood – old and new – could just be made out to be shining on his pitch black, leathery skin.

 

Techno squatted down beside Bad, examining his wound. He shut his eyes slowly, inhaling through his mouth to avoid the coppery smell of blood. The scent was something he had gotten used to over the many decades he had been a warrior for, but when it came from someone you knew… well, then it was slightly different.

 

He opened his eyes again, and, as gently as possible, lifted Bad up bridal-style.

 

“MOVE IT!” Puffy yelled from behind him at the people who blocked his way. As soon as people shuffled from Techno’s path, he began to sprint, keeping his movements perfectly even so not to move Bad too much and put him in even more pain than he was likely in already.

 

He made his way to the medical tent in record time, panting and legs burning just enough to be annoying. He placed Bad down on a bed and looked expectantly at Scott Smajor – a replacement medic after the last few were killed by a spy from Esempii.

 

Scott looked down at Bad, blinking in shock, “Bad?” he croaked, voice hoarse and terrified.

 

“Help him.” Techno demanded. Techno had never been very close to Bad; however he knew how heartbroken Captain Puffy would be if he died now.

 

“I…” Scott seemed to be struggling to speak, “I will. Yes.”

 

“Good.” Techno’s reply was equally as blunt as his demand had been.

 

Then, Techno turned to march back to his tent, trying desperately to push away the images of Bad’s body – of his eyes only half open. He tried to get rid of the thoughts of Bad’s life fading away, of what could happen. He’d lost so many old friends in wars before. He didn’t want to lose any more – regardless of how close he was with them.

 

“Is he going to be okay?” Puffy skidded to a stop in front of him, grabbing his arm desperately.

 

“I don’t know.” Techno knew it would be no use lying to try and make her feel better, “Scott’s looking after him now.”

 

Puffy nodded, letting go of his arm with shaking arms and muttered, more to herself than to him, “Please let him be okay…”

 

Techno nodded gravely, not saying anything.

 

Scott came to Techno’s tent the next morning to tell Techno that Bad had died. Apparently, he had already been injured a while ago and the infection had killed him.

 

That was the saddest part – he might have recovered from being shot.

 

What followed passed in a blur.

 

Puffy was inconsolable, taking her sadness and rage out on her enemies, slaughtering hundreds of people the next day by Techno’s side. It was a terrifying sight; Puffy was splattered with blood, her sword in her hands ruthless and the fury in her eyes raged equally as horrifically. The only place where she wasn’t covered by blood was two streaks down her cheeks from where she had been crying.

 

She had let an enemy soldier into the camp – Bad’s best friend, Skeppy, who had sobbed over Bad’s cold body, screaming bloody murder while Puffy attempted to comfort him.

 

It hadn’t taken much for Puffy to convince Skeppy to join L’manberg, after that.

 

Puffy and Skeppy remained solid friends after that day, mourning their friend together, swearing to kill everyone who had ever harmed the demon.

 

Bad’s body was sent back to L’manberg to be given a proper funeral. Many people, from L’manberg and Esempii alike, attended.  It was the last show of peace until the war ended. Bad would have loved the sight of people from both sides peacefully coexisting. But the peace didn’t last for long.

 

L’manberg won the war 50 years later after brutal fighting and huge amounts of death.

 

The battlefield was masked from human’s sight – looking like a wasteland to them. However, monsters and mages still visited the site to view the place where such horrific events occurred.

 

On that battlefield remains a plaque that reads, “In Honour of Bad Halo. An honourable fighter and a true friend of all. Rest in Peace.”

 

Techno hadn’t been to visit the memorial in a long time.

 

He didn’t think that he could face going back there.

 

Notes:

HEY!!

This chapter was VERY different from the original book but I don't hate how it turned out, especially the Techno backstory :D

Anyway, I'm back home now which had kind of made my writing schedule worse because I have other things to do lmao help-

NO PROMISES by the way, but we MAY be getting 4/4 SBI content next chapter!! (gremlin grin)

As per usual, feel free to let me know about any typos and have a fantastic day!!!!

Chapter 7: Dadza and Mumza (Unfortunatley not in the same scene)

Notes:

TW: mention of war and violence but nothing graphic

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up at around 10am after what felt like only a few seconds of sleep.

 

He stretched up, trying to ease the ache in his neck that was a result of sleeping sitting up on the leather sofa.

 

He reached up slowly and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, grimacing at the lingering taste of bile before he pushed himself off the sofa on legs that felt like they were made from lead.

 

He reluctantly trudged out of the living room, hunched over and with his hands shoved into his pockets. He walked into the kitchen, hoping to get a drink of water to soothe his dry mouth and burning throat. It would also be nice to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

 

However, when he entered the kitchen he was greeted by Wilbur and Techno sitting at the table across from each other, conversing like old friends. Both men immediatley looked up at Tommy and Wilbur smiled with a similar gentleness to the one he used a few hours prior.

 

“Hey,” Wilbur greeted, “You feeling any better?”

 

Tommy simply nodded, reaching up to the cupboard to take a glass and filled it with water. He relished the cool water that soothed his mouth before swilling the drink around and spitting it into the sink. It didn’t entirely get rid of the taste, but it made it much more bearable.

 

“There’s some coffee for you, if you’d like it.” Techno said, looking Tommy up and down, “You look dead on your feet.”

 

Tommy swallowed another mouthful of water, “Thanks,” he made sure that his tone sounded adequately sarcastic, “Good to know that you’re back to being your usual, cheery self.”

 

Wilbur gave an amused huff and Techno rolled his eyes.

 

“Thanks, though.” Tommy reached for the coffee filter and poured himself a mug. Not bothering to let the drink cool down, he lifted the mug to his lips, relishing in the way the drink burned his mouth. The pain seemed to wake him up more than the caffeine did.

 

“So,” Tommy didn’t think that he could handle avoiding the topic for much longer, “We’re brothers, then?”

 

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, I kinda made those jokes kind of as a coping mechanism.”

 

“Oh.” Tommy seemed to be saying that a lot, lately. “What… what happened? I thought my parents were dead.” He pretended that his voice didn’t catch in his throat when he spoke the last word.

 

“Well, Phil had you, but his wife – our mother – died in childbirth.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it’s alright. It was a long time ago.” Despite his words, the remnants of sadness still played across Wilbur’s face, “Phil – Dad – didn’t have the time or energy to take care of another child by himself, and I don’t think he wanted you to know about magic.”

 

“Why not? Why wouldn’t he want me to know?” Tommy hated the hollow feeling in his chest at the thought that his own father had left him.

 

Wilbur laughed harshly and without mirth, “Tommy, you’ve been attacked twice in one night. You had such a bad panic attack that you threw up. Techno said that you passed out a few hours ago. Why do you think that he didn’t want to let you know about this? It’s too dangerous.”

 

Tommy felt harsh, sharp anger cutting through his chest, “Well maybe I wouldn’t have been in so much danger if I’d been taught how to defend myself! He didn’t do me any favours stopping me from knowing about this because now when shit like this happens I’m not prepared!” Tommy was yelling at this point, giving Wilbur a glare that his brother would have been proud of had it not been aimed at him.

 

Wilbur looked down, face tinged pink, “I know! I know, Tommy! But there’s no point in yelling at me, I didn’t decide that.”

 

Tommy swallowed, conceding that Wilbur was right.

 

“Look,” Wilbur bit his lip, “I’ll tell you what. I know where Dad is right now. I can take you to see him if you want.”

 

Tommy froze, his mug shaking in his iron grip. He didn’t know what to say at that. Did he really want to see Phil? He wasn’t sure if he could bear it right now.

 

Then, before he could let his anxiety consume him, he responded with one word.

 

“Okay.”

 

 

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Tommy had no idea where they were going.

 

After he had tried (and failed) to eat a slice of toast, Techno had silently led him and Wilbur to his car and they were now driving along a winding road surrounded by trees and greenery. Wilbur had been worried that Sam expected Tommy back now, but Tommy called Sam to tell him that he and Wilbur were going into town and Wil would drop him back in the evening. Sam had seemed delighted that Tommy was enjoying spending time with his “cousin”, which Tommy had of course adamantly denied.

 

After that, Tommy sat in the back of the car next to Wilbur (who Techno had refused to let sit in the front seat) in total silence.

 

Tommy felt his eyes get heavy again and fell into a half-sleep, only partially conscious.

 

He was shaken back to reality by Wilbur after a while, unsure of how much time had passed, and looked around.

 

Outside of the window was thick, dark green forest and a thin dirt path that Techno’s car was on. It was impossible for Tommy to tell where exactly they were, but it was clear that they were far away from the bustling concrete streets of central L’manberg. A small stream trickled beside the path, rocks pushing the water around and causing the rippling sound of running water to be clearly heard, even from inside the car. Snow had began falling: a thin coating covering the trees which thankfully sheltered the path, making it easier to walk.

 

“Come on,” Techno grunted, pushing his door open, welcoming sounds of leaves, wind and birds into the car.

 

Tommy hurriedly removed his seatbelt and opened his car door, stepping out into the freezing forest. He couldn’t help but be thankful for the coat that Wilbur had forced him to take with him before they left.

 

Techno wordlessly led Tommy and Wilbur further down the path, which seemed to be far too small for the car to continue down. The three walked briskly through the thick trees, pushing deeper into the woods while snow fell on their heads, the thin coating quickly becoming considerably thicker.

 

After about an hour and a half of walking beside the stream, when Tommy’s feet were badly aching and he was sure he had at least one blister, the three approached a small cabin which looked like it was from a fairytale.

 

The cabin was made from stone and wood in a small clearing; it had plants growing around it and smoke twisting out of its chimney, cutting a path through the large snowflakes that covered the tiled roof. The window shutters were open, revealing a warm light that glowed through the small windows.

 

Techno, unlike Tommy, did not seem mesmerised by the cabin’ beauty and continued his brisk pace through the creaky wooden gate, marching up to the door and rapping on it. Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s arm and dragged him up to the door as well.

 

The door opened quickly, and the smiling face of Philip Craft welcomed Techno and Wilbur while Tommy hesitated in the background.

 

Tommy didn’t know how to react now; he knew Phil was alive, sure, but hearing something and seeing it for yourself were very different experiences. Tommy had half expected Wilbur to be lying, but here Phil was, looking the same as he did when Tommy last saw him.

 

“Techno! Wilbur! It’s lovely to see you! Honestly, I didn’t expect to see you today – I would have made lunch had I known you were dropping by.”

 

It was Techno who responded, however the unsure tone that he used sounded alien in his voice that usually echoed confidence, “Yes, well this is a… special occasion.”

 

Phil frowned, sensing that something was wrong, “What happened? Are you okay?”

 

“Um…” Techno reached behind him and grabbed Tommy’s shoulder, pulling the boy forwards, who stood next to him, waving slighty and very awkwardly.

 

All the colour drained from Phil’s face; a look of a mixture of intense shock, worry, fear and many other unidentifiable emotions flooded his face.

 

“Tommy?” Phil spoke Tommy’s name as if he didn’t believe it, sounding incredulous and horrified.

 

“Um… hi.” It was a pathetic way to speak to the person he had just seen for the first time after finding out that they were alive, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

 

“Why- how- I don’t-” Phil seemed to be even more lost for words than Tommy was.

 

“Can we come in?” Techno asked, interrupting Phil’s stuttering.

 

“I- yes, sure. Of course.”

 

Phil held the door open, allowing the three into the house.

 

The interior, Tommy quickly found, was just as beautiful as the exterior. Large armchairs littered the main area around a wood fire that flickered happily in the fireplace, casting yellow light around. Plants grew in pots around the room and on the wooden windowsills; the ceiling beams had fairy lights wrapped around them and bookshelves lined the walls. A small kitchen was off to the side, separated from the living room by a small table with a few chairs around it, and a few doors led into separate rooms that Tommy guessed were bedrooms and a bathroom. For a house that looked so small, the inside seemed spacious.

 

“Um,” Phil still seemed unsure of what to say, “Do you want some tea?”

 

“Sure,” Wilbur shrugged as Techno replied,

 

“I could do with some tea.”

 

Tommy didn't respond, trying to avoid Phil’s intense gaze that had settled on him and was refusing to move.

 

Then, Phil seemed to pull himself from his stupor and wandered over to the kitchen, busying himself with the tea. He seemed to intentionally be looking everywhere except at Tommy.

 

Techno and Wilbur sat down at the table and Tommy, only slightly awkwardly, followed suit.

 

Phil placed four steaming mugs on the table even though Tommy hadn’t asked for one.

 

Then, finally, Phil properly addressed Tommy.

 

“So. I suppose you know about everything now?”

 

Tommy shrugged, still trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat in his face, “Um… I know some stuff, yeah.”

 

Phil sat back in his chair, burying his face in his hands.

 

“I told him a fair bit.” Techno unhelpfully supplied.

 

“What… what happened?” Phil asked, an exhausted tinge to his voice.

 

Quickly realising that Tommy was struggling to speak, Techno and Wilbur took initiative in explaining the night’s events to Phil (omitting the parts where Tommy passed out and threw up), taking turns to talk and only occasionally speaking over each other.

 

Tommy continued to sit in silence, bouncing his leg and staring at the mug in front of him that he hadn’t even touched. He noticed that Phil also hadn’t drank any of his tea either.

 

When the story was finished, Phil shut his eyes, breathing deeply.

 

The four sat in silence for a while, watching Phil process the information.

 

Eventually, Phil spoke again, “So… I suppose that despite my best efforts you’re involved in this now?”

 

Tommy nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t mean to, but I prefer to know this shit.”

 

Phil laughed softly, “You seem fairly calm about this.”

 

Tommy shrugged and spoke in an even tone, “I’m actually not. I’ve been in a constant state of panic ever since I found out.”

 

Phil exhaled heavily, lifting his mug up but not drinking anything.

 

“Why did you abandon me?” Tommy cringed at how weak and pathetic his voice sounded, like a baby animal crying out for help.

 

Phil scrunched his eyes together before speaking; when he opened them again, they were wet and glistening, “I had to.” He spoke the words as if it physically pained him to say, “It… it wasn’t safe – we were on the brink of another war with Esempii and my wife died. I didn’t want to bring you into that environment.”

 

“So you got rid of me?” Tommy looked away from the man awkwardly, realising that he'd been maintaining an uncomfortable amount of eye contact over the duration of the conversation.

 

Phil flinched so hard that he spilled his tea over his wrist.

 

“No! Well, I didn't want to. I gave you to Sam – he wanted a child desperately. I knew I could trust him; I never wanted to give you to him, but it was the only choice I had. I know you don’t believe me, and I understand, however please trust me that I love you so much! I wouldn’t have given you to him had it not been necessary and even so, I am beyond sorry for everything I did that hurt you. Even though it was necessary, I've never regretted anything more.”

 

Tommy didn’t know what to say. This was all… so much. Too much. He began worrying that he may be sick again.

 

Phil was still gazing at Tommy with a partially imploring – partially expectant gaze.

 

Tommy said the only thing he thought he could, “Alright.”

 

Phil slumped back in the chair, breathing in relief, “I don’t expect you to forgive me but… do you think you could at some point?”

 

“I… I don’t forgive you now. I’m not in the right place to and I’m trying to process everything, but… it’s a start.”

 

“Thank you. Genuinely. That’s more than I deserve.” Phil still looked as if he was about to cry.

 

Tommy nodded, the bitter feeling towards Phil that curled in his chest lessening slightly, “I know.”

 

 

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Niki Nihachu was bored.

 

She was currently standing on a pier in Rivendell, watching the sea churn restlessly beneath her.

 

It was nearing five in the morning, and another night of fruitless patrolling left Niki mentally drained in a way that no fight ever could. She sat down on the pier, swinging her legs, the toes of her boots scraping the sea and watched the horizon – the winter Sun wasn’t even beginning to rise.

 

She sighed, lamenting on her old life when she was fifty, when she had fought in the Pogtopia war. That, compared to the L’manberg War, was a pathetic event. Some mages from the neighbouring country Pogtopia had attempted to take over the L’manberg sanctuary. Niki had helped fight against them on Captain Puffy’s (the head Elder) request. L’manberg won, as everyone expected, but not without a brutal fight; L’manberg was the largest and most powerful city apart from Esempii, so Pogtopia never really stood a chance. Even so, the battle had almost killed Elder Skeppy, causing the people to doubt the Council’s power.

 

That wasn’t Niki’s problem, though. After the fight she and her best friend, Jack Manifold, moved around the continent together, working as arbiters – mostly being hired by different sanctuaries for short periods of time to take out criminals and terrorists that the elders didn’t have time to deal with. She and Jack were respected and feared as the most powerful duo of the time.

 

But then, after a decade, Jack was hired to permanently work Las Nevadas and Niki wasn’t invited. Jack had accepted Quackity’s request without a second thought, which had quickly escalated into a huge argument between the two. Jack left immediately, not bothering to keep in contact with Niki, breaking her heart into pieces. She kept working as an arbiter for around a year by herself, but it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as it had been. Every fight, every battle, every failed coup reminded her of her friend that she would never speak to again.

 

Finally, she couldn’t take being an arbiter anymore.

 

It was then that a message had arrived from Scott Smajor – an ex-healer who had recently created a country in the Land of the Empires – who needed someone to try to take care of all the crime that raged in Rivendell. She didn’t hesitate to accept and swiftly travelled to the other continent.

 

It had been a good distraction from everything – from the war in Pogtopia, from her friends who she hadn’t spoken to in years, from her and Jack’s argument. She had thrown herself into fighting – the low-stakes work had been a perfect task for her then.

 

However, since she had been employed the crime rates had dropped to nearly zero, and what had once been fighting several criminals every night became her wandering around the capital city aimlessly; lucky if she could even stop a small robbery.

 

Even then, on the rare occasion that she would face a somewhat powerful mage, it wasn’t much of challenge. Sure, back when she was younger and less practised she would have jumped at the opportunity to face someone remotely strong, but now even the most skilled people she fought on the streets of Rivendell stood so little of chance against her that she barely needed to bother getting her sword out.

 

Now, almost twenty years after Jack left, she felt remarkably similar to how she had when she became truly alone for the first time. She thought that the dull ache would get better over time – which it did to an extent, but it never went away.

 

Despite being over eighty years old, her appearance hadn’t changed since the war, so she still looked twenty; but she had grown so much and was exhausted of how mundane her life had become.

 

She gazed aimlessly into the murky depths of the water, trying to stop everything from playing through her head for what felt like the hundredth time. She dully wondered if Jack felt the same.

 

She wondered what would happen if the water swallowed her, pulling her down into the depths and away from society. She wondered who would remember her. Probably not many people.

 

Then, a soft glowing purple light lit up in her peripheral vision. She blinked, half expecting it to be a hallucination from her lack of sleep, but it didn’t disappear.

 

She cautiously turned around, placing one hand on the sword that hung from her belt, but doubting that she’d really need it due to the lack of criminal activity at the moment.

 

In the seconds that it took for her to turn round, she ran her thoughts over what it could be – however when she set her sights on the woman in front of her, her mouth fell open.

 

This was definitely not what she expected.

 

The woman in front of her was wearing a long black dress and a veil that Niki could just see a pair of warm dark eyes and an equally warm smile through. She stood at an unnaturally tall height and had majestic crows balanced on her shoulders and large hat, all who looked down at Niki with beady eyes that looked far too intelligent for regular crows. It took Niki a moment to realise that the purple light emanated from the woman – and not only that, but she also had a pair of large black wings from her back which reflected the purple light, feathers shining elegantly.

 

The woman, Niki saw, was the very image of the Goddess of Death.

 

Then the woman spoke softly, with a warmth that Niki had never imagined – she had always been taught that the Goddess of Death was heartless and cold towards humans. This woman was the complete opposite of that,

 

“Hello, Niki Nihachu. I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”

 

Niki had no clue what to say or do; eventually, she decided that her best idea was to fall to her knees with her head bowed, which was exactly what she did.

 

The Goddess laughed softly, “You do not need to kneel. I am not here to be prayed to, don't worry.”

 

“Oh.” Niki stuttered slightly, pushing herself to her feet. She took her second-best guess of what to do and so said, “What is it that you wish, my lady?”

 

“I have a small request of you, one which I believe will benefit both of us, as well as many others.”

 

Niki nodded eagerly, wishing nothing more than to help the Goddess in front of her, “I will do anything you require as long as I am able, my lady.”

 

“Thank you for your loyalty,” Niki didn’t know that it was possible for the Goddess’ smile to warm even further, “I wish for you to return to L’manberg.”

 

Niki blinked, taken aback, “Of course, I will do that if it is what you ask of me – however may I ask why?”

 

The Goddess nodded, “You see, my beloved husband and sons are likely going to be in danger soon – not just them, actually. While they are at the crux of the danger, it may be a threat all of humanity. You are perfect to help, and I sense that you are not enjoying it here anyway. This will offer a much greater challenge for you.”

 

Exitement thrummed through Niki's veins at the idea of something so challenging that the Goddess of Death personally visited her to tell her about it. It was what she longed for - something to push her beyond her limits - something so powerful that it drove away all thoughts of her old friend, forcing out the hollow feeling that had plagued her since her friend's departure. She could barely keep herself standing in front of the Goddess as she itched with the desire to leave and hunt this mage or monster

 

Niki nodded quickly, eager to fufill this quest, “In that case, of course I will, my lady. I would love nothing more. When shall I leave?”

 

“As soon as possible, preferably. The danger is imminent. You will find out what your task is shortly after you arrive. And thank you, I knew that I could trust you. Like I said, I have wished to converse with you for a long time. Even before the Pogtopia War.”

 

Niki licked her dry lips, trying to keep the grin on her face restrained enough that she looked at least somehwhat sane “Of course. I will try to get a flight as soon as possible.”

 

The Goddess nodded approvingly, still smiling down at Niki, “Once again, thank you.”

 

Then, as suddenly as she arrived, she disappeared into thin air, her body evaporating into small black particles that looked like tissue paper which dispersed and evaporated into the early morning air.

 

Niki took her phone out of her pocket and swiftly began searching for plane flights to L’manberg, finding one that set off at nine am that was almost empty.

 

 She began running along the short journey to the main Rivendell airport, wondering what adventures awaited her in her home country.

Notes:

Hello!! :D

NIKI AND MUMZA LETSGO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Look everyone! The author just realised that they were somewhat projecting onto Tommy and accidentally made him autistic coded! Point and laugh!

Please do let me know if any of the history/worldbuilding doesn't make sense here because while writing this I am sleep deprived, shaking from the amount of caffeine I've consumed, and melting in above 30°C heat so my brain is fried.

Also feel free to tell me about any typos!!

Have a magnificent day, night or other time you may currently be experiencing :)

Chapter 8: The Stange Man at the Window

Notes:

No TWs, but sorry for the very dialogue heavy chapter - I'm currently very emotionally drained and it didn't help that all I wrote in my plan was "Sam, Tub and Tech. VAULT." so this is all I could write.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After a long time of sitting at the kitchen table in silence disperced with fragments of broken conversation, Techno had driven Tommy back home. Wilbur had tried to start up a conversation in the car a few times, but had quickly realised that his efforts were fruitless.

 

Tommy had silently left the car as it pulled up on Sam’s driveway and made his way into the house. It was around 4pm, so Sam probably wouldn’t be back from work at the hospital for a few hours. Tommy wandered into the kitchen, stomach growling at him. He set about the mundane task of making himself a sandwich and sat down to eat.

 

After he had finished and put his plate into the dishwasher, he heard the front door open. Sam wandered into the kitchen and unceremoniously threw his bag down on the floor.

 

“Hi, Tommy. I didn’t expect you to be back for a while.”

 

Tommy nodded, “Yeah I got tired, so Wil drove me back home.”

 

“Ah. That was nice of him.” Sam’s eyes shone as he smiled, likely thinking about how well Tommy and Wilbur were supposedly getting along. Tommy reluctantly supposed that he wasn’t wrong; he and Wilbur already seemed to be closer. Sam spoke again, glancing at the plate, “Did you not eat anything while you were out?”

 

Tommy shrugged, “Not hungry.” That wasn’t technically a lie – Phil had offered them lunch, however both he and Tommy felt too ill to eat. Wilbur had given Tommy the honour of finishing his lunch for him after Tommy could only stomach a few bites.

 

“Where’s your brother?” Tommy jumped slightly, realising that Sam meant Tubbo, not Wilbur.

 

Tommy shrugged again, “Not sure. Asleep probably.”

 

“Ah.” Tubbo had a habit of sleeping until eight at night and going to bed very early in the morning. Tommy frequently joked that he was practically nocturnal at this point.

 

Tommy swallowed hard, trying to unstick the words that refused to leave his mouth.

 

“Are you alright? Your anxiety seems to be bad.” Sam sounded concerned, looking Tommy up and down.

 

Tommy dully realised that he was shaking again; he seemed to be doing that a lot recently, so much that he barely noticed. He cleared his throat as well as possible and finally plucked up the courage to say, “Wilbur told me something while we were out.”

 

Sam’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, “Oh?”

 

Tommy nodded, “Y- yeah. He said that- he said that Phil was my father.”

 

Sam completely froze, his hand stilling by his sides and his face lost some of the colour that was usually present. Sam seemed to struggle to speak as much as Tommy previously had been. Tommy waited for Sam to speak, which he finally did,

 

“Did he?”

 

Tommy nodded. Sam exhaled and semi-collapsed into the chair by Tommy, “How are you taking it?”

 

Tommy ignored the question, “So it’s true then?” Sam’s reaction seemed genuine so far – Phil’s story seemed to line up.

 

“Yes. He gave you to me about a year after you were born. He didn’t want me to tell you in case it upset you, but he wanted to stay close to you.”

 

Tommy nodded – Phil had also mentioned that, saying that he pretended to be Tommy’s uncle so he could continue seeing him.

 

“I… we- we agreed that we’d tell you when you turned eighteen, but then Phil…” Sam left the rest of the sentence hanging in the stagnant air of the grey kitchen. That was another thing that Phil had explained – people had noticed that he wasn’t aging, so he had to find a way to leave permanently, and so other people wouldn’t try to find him. Apparently, that was what he did the last time he had to leave somewhere, and it resulted in the death of one of his friends.

 

Tommy didn’t say anything; he seemed to be unable to speak.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I really wanted to, but he quite literally begged me not to.”

 

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

 

“Even so.” Sam’s eyes were just so sad. Tommy could hardly bare to look at him. “I- I’m sorry, can I go? I need to think.”

 

Tommy nodded and watched Sam get up from the chair, unable to utter the apology he so desperately wanted to give for even thinking about saying something that would make Sam so upset. He struggled showing his love for people, so one of his biggest regrets was not being able to give Sam the love and thanks he deserved.

 

He’d been getting better at learning how to talk to people, but that wasn’t nearly enough to show Sam his appreciation for everything he’d done for Tommy. Phil may be Tommy’s biological father, but he hadn’t done any of the stuff Sam did for him: he hadn’t held Tommy when he was repeatedly awoken from nightmares or when Tommy had a bad panic attack; he hadn’t checked in on Tommy when things were loud or busy; he hadn’t been there to defend him when Tommy got in trouble at school for something he didn’t do; he didn't remind Tommy to eat after he forgot because he was concentrating on something. Sam had helped Tommy so much in so many ways that Phil never could. So yes, Phil was Tommy’s biological father, but any father figure that Tommy could ever have automatically paled in comparison to Sam’s kindness and gentle understanding.

 

Tommy wouldn’t replace Sam for the world.

 

He watched the man reach the door and, without thinking, blurted out, “I love you, Dad.”

 

Sam turned around in the doorway, eyes filled to the brim with tears, “I love you too, Tommy.” His voice was choked full of emotion that Tommy couldn’t understand, “You’ll always be my son, regardless of who your biological parents are. I promise.”

 

Then, Sam turned back around and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Tommy frozen and expressionless in the kitchen.

 

 

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A few hours later Tommy’s door swung open loudly as Tommy was sitting on his bed trying to distract himself by watching Youtube, and Tubbo marched in.

 

“Hello, dearest brother of mine!” Tubbo was practically yelling, a wide grin on his face.

 

“Well done on waking up, Tubbo.”

 

Tubbo frowned comically, “Well it’s not like you’ve been around for me to talk to.”

 

Tommy grinned back, “Well I’m sorry for being so much more popular than you. It’s not my fault that you don’t talk to people.”

 

Tubbo scoffed, I don’t think that a cousin counts as a friend.”

 

Tommy froze, unsure of if he should tell Tubbo about Phil or not. He didn’t have time, though, since Tubbo picked up on Tommy’s uncomfortable demeanour,

 

“Ha! You know I’m right!” Tubbo looked even more gleeful than before.

 

Tommy theatrically rolled his eyes, “No you’re not, dumbass.”

 

“Yes I am, and you know it.”

 

“So,” Tubbo flopped backwards onto the bed next to where Tommy was sitting and looked up at him upside down, “What did you do today, Mr I-have-so-many-friends?”

 

“Wil and I went into town together. Wandered around a bit.”

 

Tubbo groaned, “Sounds boring as shit.”

 

Tommy snorted with laughter – people often thought that he swore a lot, but they clearly hadn’t met Tubbo, “It was, big man. I’m gonna beat the shit out of Wilbur.”

 

“Go off, king.” Tubbo reached up to fist bump him, still grinning.

 

Tommy fell back on the bed, so he was resting beside Tubbo and rolled over to look at him, “So what do you want to do?”

 

“Your mum.” Tubbo’s response was instantaneous.

 

Tommy elected to ignore that comment, “Seriously though.”

 

“No clue. Sleep, probably.”

 

“Didn’t you spend the whole day sleeping?”

 

Tubbo shrugged as well as he could while lying down.

 

This was nice, Tommy realised. It was nice to just hang out with Tubbo – no magic, no dangerous people trying to kill him, no supposedly dead fathers. It seemed oddly domestic, but not in a bad way.

 

The emotional gravity of the previous days’ events still weighed on Tommy’s shoulders, but with Tubbo beside him cracking jokes and practically yelling down his ear like nothing had happened Tommy’s new knowledge seemed much more manageable.

 

He wished he could stay like this forever.

 

 

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Tommy woke up to see a man standing outside his window, tapping lightly on the glass.

 

He jumped so much at the sight that he almost fell off the bed onto Tubbo, who hadn’t wanted to leave Tommy’s room so had elected to sleep on the floor. Apparently, he slept on the floor semi-regularly regardless of where he was. Tubbo confused Tommy.

 

“Hello,” Technoblade grunted after Tommy clambered out of bed, nearly stepping on Tubbo and opened the window.

 

Tommy glanced between Techno and Tubbo anxiously, “What the fuck are you doing outside my window at six in the morning?”

 

Techno shrugged, “Actually I’ve been here since around half five. You should really close your curtains, by the way.” Tommy was too busy trying to comprehend what he said to be freaked out by that piece of knowledge

 

Tommy glared and Techno spoke again, “Why is there a child on the floor, by the way?”

 

Tommy glanced over his shoulder and (not gently) kicked Tubbo, who didn’t move, as expected. “That’s Tubbo. He lives here for some reason.”

 

Techno nodded as if that made perfect sense, “Ah. Do we need to go elsewhere so we don’t wake him?”

 

“Nah, Tubbo can sleep through pretty much anything. You never told me why you were here.”

 

Tommy, even after a full night’s sleep, didn’t have the energy to feel much. His emotions still simply did not seem to be registering.

 

“Ah. Well, you may recall that I told you about the Elders?” Tommy nodded, “Well, I uh… I may be in just a little bit of trouble. For some reason they don’t like me dragging a regular teenager into this mess. No clue why.” Tommy couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

 

“Okay, what does this have to do with me?”

 

“Well,” Techno looked shiftily away, “I may have been called in to talk to them – and you need to come as well. Something about 'ensuring your safety' but of course, you’re perfectly safe with me.”

 

Tommy didn’t say anything about the amount of trauma that he had acquired over the last two days and how he was likely to be attacked again if he continued to stay with Techno.

 

Instead, he asked, “When do we need to be there?”

 

Techno glanced down at his non existant watch, “Approximately one hour ago.”

 

Tommy stared at the man, trying to process what he said, “WHAT?”

 

Techno shrugged, “I did tell you that I’ve been here since half five in the morning. I also want to talk to you about something else.”

 

"That's fucking creepy, dude."

 

"Wanting to talk to you?"

 

"I mean the standing outside my room for half an hour. Also, shouldn’t we be more worried about the fact that we’re an hour late for a meeting with the literal magic government?”

 

“Eh.” Techno seemed strangely nonchalant, “It’s all good. I’m friends with them – sort of – plus it’s not like they have anything better to do. Trust me, we’d have waited for three hours before meeting them if we arrived on time.”

 

Tommy sighed, “Okay.” He began to pick up his jacket and pull some shoes on – he’d gotten changed as soon as he got home yesterday and accidentally fell asleep in those clothes. Sure, he hadn’t showered since he heard Phil’s will, but only Wilbur had commented on that so far.

 

Meanwhile, Techno continued to speak, “So basically, I found something interesting.”

 

“Well done.”

 

“Basically, you’re a member of the Craft family, right?”

 

Tommy nodded, “I suppose.”

 

“Well, the Craft family has a… vault. A very large and interesting vault.”

 

Tommy raised an eyebrow as he pulled a sock on, “As fascinating as this is, can you please tell me the point?”

 

“I’m getting there. Don’t rush genius.” He paused, letting Tommy mull over his words, “This vault; it is an oasis of ancient information – I think that it most likely contains some knowledge on the Revive Book.”

 

Tommy froze, “Wait, really?”

 

“Yes; the Craft family likely has some connection with the Goddess of Death, who is rumoured to have given the book to the Angel of Death; bringing it to humanity. Of course, we’re not really sure how much of that is true, however going there is our best bet to get some information.”

 

“Right. And I need to go because…?”

 

“Well-” Techno didn’t seem to expect that question, “Don’t… don’t you want to go?”

 

Tommy shrugged, “Not really, no.”

 

“I- oh.” That seemed to have thwarted Techno’s plan.

 

“I have had a paradigm shift and decided that magic is of the devil.”

 

Techno looked intently at Tommy, who stared blankly back, “You’re joking, aren’t you.”

 

“Yes. I’d love to go with you.”

 

Techno exhaled, visibly relaxing, “Good, because I’ll need you to get in. It’s only possible to enter with a member of the Craft family.”

 

He walked over to Techno, almost falling over Tubbo and scrawled a message on a post it note explaining that he was going out with a friend which he stuck to Tubbo’s forehead.

 

“Ready?” Techno asked, stepping back towards the window.

 

Tommy raised an eyebrow, “You know, Sam’s working the night shift tomorrow, so he’ll be asleep all day. We don’t have to leave through the window.”

 

Techno nodded, “Ah, that makes sense. Come on.” He slipped out of window anyway and Tommy groaned, following him out of his room and onto the cold street.

Notes:

Greetings and salutations.

GUESS WHO FINALLY FINISHED THE FULL PLAN!! I also updated the tags, so if you look there you could get an idea of some characters who may be intoduced...

You can probably tell that I would die for Sam in this fic. /hj

Next chapter should be more enjoyable, especially considering that you'll probably meet one of my all time favourite CCs (hint: I mean Eret)

Anyway, I'm gonna go to sleep now, so have a good day blah blah and please tell me about typos because I'm not sure if I'm even gonna bother proof reading this.

Chapter 9: The Sanctuary and Potential Ghost Hunting

Notes:

TW: mention of war, violence, blood

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Approximately 400 years earlier

 

The Angel of Death had seen a lot of people in his life, but something was very different about the famous (or infamous) Blood God.

 

Technoblade was a warrior – that was an irrefutable fact. This was one of his first major fights and he cut through the soldiers as if they were made of paper. He would have looked terrifying to anyone else – his eyes glowed red, large tusks that protruded from his mouth as deadly sharp as the blood soaked sword in his hand was. A golden crown gleamed on his head, showing his sheer power that came from his nether enhanced strength.

 

Philza had met piglin hybrids before – watched them with their brute strength; but none of the raw power they fought with came even close to matching the calculated and deadly moves that Technoblade consistently threw out. His enemies never stood a chance.

 

Philza watched the fight from the clouds in wonder – it was no surprise that Technoblade had gained the title of The Blood God when he slaughtered so many people in mere seconds. He had initially started watching Technoblade a few weeks ago on the order of the Goddess of Death, who didn’t like going to Earth too often. Now, though, he watched out of pure curiosity. The man was fascinating and Philza fully intended to find out how this warrior – how this unnatural fighter – was simply so powerful. Even people who spent all their magic on physical strength could barely be half as strong as the warrior cutting through people.

 

It saddened the angel slightly – he knew how people feared death. Still, everyone died. That was the one fair rule of life, so it was his job to collect the remaining souls that cried on battlefields. He did his job calmly and to the best of his ability; death may upset the family and friends of those affected but it would happen anyway. Philza couldn’t spare much sympathy when there were so many others deserving of it.

 

Of course, he didn’t always have that opinion. He used to be as mortal as those The Blood God slaughtered; but when he was in his eighties (still looking twenty, though) he had attracted the attention of the Goddess of Death after he had been killed by the hand of his own father. She had mercy for him for some reason that Philza couldn’t understand and after a few decades of training, made him her Angel of Death. It was his job to collect souls and give messages to humans and mages alike – something that his love did not enjoy doing.

 

The battle ended much faster than he thought it would – the crowds of people dispersing, leaving spirits weeping on the battlefield, crying to follow the others but knowing that they never could.

 

The only man who remained now was Technoblade, standing on a hill, gazing out over the destruction – his usually deadly red eyes now held an emptiness, his face softened slightly.

 

Curiosity took over Philza and he stepped down to the ground, materialisin g from thin air.

 

Technoblade blinked and looked around Philza, trying to find somewhere that the angel may have come from. However, as expected, he found nothing other than the man standing in front of him.

 

“Hello,” Philza smiled at The Blood God, “I wished to speak with you.”

 

The two quickly became close friends after that – whenever possible Philza would spend time with the piglin hybrid, watching his battles, talking to him in the quiet moments that rarely came around, aiding him with godly strength which only strengthened the rumours that had began to spread that maybe Technoblade really was a god. The pair laughed at that, wondering what people would think if they found out the truth.

 

It had been a long time since Philza had a real friend – at least since he died – and this man, this piglin, was everything he could want and more. Techno admitted to also not having many friends – something that Philza already knew – so having each other was good for both men.

 

Even when Phil’s wife called him back to her realm for years – sometimes decades – at a time Philza knew that Techno would always be waiting for his return. It gave Philza hope, it gave him something dependable after years of simply moving from battlefield to battlefield.

 

Centuries later, the Goddess of Death noticed how the monotony of Phil’s afterlife had begun to wear him down, so she had given him the option of being returned to mortal life for a few centuries until he died again, when he would return to his old position. Philza had agreed without hesitation, knowing that even if he couldn’t see his beloved during him time as a mortal, she would always be with him.

 

Techno had continued to stick with him, through all times – still one, constant friend. Even as Phil met new people, new friends, no one could compare to Techno. No one could compare to the one person who was always there for him.

 

Even when Philza had settled into his family’s old manor while Techno continued working elsewhere the old warrior would visit him. Even when they didn’t see each other for years, the pair knew that the other was always waiting elsewhere – an unspoken obligation to remain the best of friends through everything that Phil’s new life threw at them.

 

A few years later, Kristin blessed Phil with a son – a son that she called Wilbur Soot. Phil had taken the boy in with pure joy, promising to love him for all of eternity and longer. Even though Wilbur was mortal now, Phil knew that one day he would return to the Goddess’s realm with Phil by his side. Phil would always be by his side. He silently promised that to the baby every night.

 

Techno had returned from his travels when Wilbur was around two and – despite claiming to despise children – quickly grew very attached to the toddler, simultaneously claiming that ‘no he was not soft, shut up’.

 

Eight years after Wilbur’s arrival, Philza was blessed with another son – however this one Kristin had made him promise to give to a human he trusted before the boy turned two. It had broken Phil’s heart more than he had even known was possible – giving Tommy to his human friend, Sam. Phil hated the idea of getting rid of his youngest, but he trusted his wife, so he agreed despite the pain and nightmares it caused him. He knew that Sam would take good care of his child, raising him as far away from magic as possible.

 

He ignored the dull ache that surfaced in his chest whenever Tommy called Phil his uncle instead of his father like he should have, instead trying to focus on the fact that he at least got to watch his son grow up, even if it was only from the side lines. He put more energy into helping Wilbur, who faced a similar heartbreak due to not being able to see his little brother as much as he would have liked to.

 

Even through all of that he didn’t tell Wilbur about his true past – instead saying that he was a mage studying necromancy; that was something that Kristin had been perfectly clear to do. He hated nothing more than lying to his children but, still, he trusted Kristin with both his life and death.

 

When Tommy had turned up at his door he had been beyond terrified, fear racking his body in a way that it hadn’t since he died. He didn’t want Tommy to know about magic and beyond feared what could happen now that he did.

 

The look of distrust and betrayal that clouded Tommy’s eyes when the boy looked at him was enough to completely shatter Phil’s heart into pieces in a way that nothing else could.

 

He would never regret anything more, no matter how long he existed – alive or dead – for.

 

 

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Techno’s car pulled up at a normal looking bus stop in central L’manberg.

 

Tommy looked around at the deserted shelter, shivering slightly in the thin layer of frost that coated the ground.

 

He glanced around as Techno looked expectantly at him.

 

“Why are we here? What’s going on?”

 

Techno looked around, seemingly examining the timetable, “This is the entrance to the Sanctuary.”

 

Tommy frowned, confused by this, “What do you mean, the Sanctuary?”

 

“Oh,” Techno looked surprised by the question, “Did I not tell you? It’s the headquarters of the Council. The elders practically live here. In fact, I don’t even know why I threw the word practically in there – they literally live here.”

 

“Oh. So, they live in a shitty bus stop in the freezing cold?”

 

Techno gave him an annoying smile that communicated his feelings of superiority, “Not exactly. Haven’t you learned by now that looks can be deceiving?”

 

He pressed his index finger to a bus time that read “15:30 – Espempii” and one of the seats tipped up, leaving a gaping hole in the ground. Tommy’s mouth fell open; he thought he was done with surprises for at least a week, but apparently not.

 

Techno looked brightly back at him, “Come on! We’re already an hour and a half late.” Despite his words Techno still didn’t look particularly stressed by their appalling timing.

 

Then, Techno walked towards the gaping hole in the ground and stepped into it, seemingly disappearing into thin air.

 

Tommy stayed still, staring at where Techno had stood. The hole in the ground stared back at him, a threat of torturous abyss.

 

Hesitantly, Tommy took a step forward so he teetered on the edge of the chasm.

 

Then, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Tommy stepped forwards and fell into the blank darkness.

 

Tommy expected to be falling for a long time but was instead met almost immediately with bright lights piercing his pupils. He blinked the white spots from his eyes as he landed on something that felt remarkably soft.

 

He looked up to see Techno ominously looming over him.

 

“You took a while.”

 

Tommy scowled up at him, “OH I'm sorry that you just expected to me jump into prime knows where out of blind trust. Not all of us can be as awesome as you, you know.”

 

“Well, thank you for admitting that, at least.” Techno roughly grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled him to his feet, giving Tommy the opportunity to look properly around the room.

 

There was a desk on the other side of the room with a young person behind it wearing a dark green jacket and with a long braid down their shoulder that had tones of brown and blonde in it. They looked at Techno with a slightly annoyed expression,

 

“Techno, for the last time, can you please stop entering the Sanctuary through the emergency entrance?

 

Techno looked at them with an expression that said, ‘we both know I’m better than you, so shut up’.

 

“How do you know that this wasn’t an emergency?”

 

They narrowed their eyes as Techno pulled Tommy over to the desk, “You’ve come in that way with the different - but equally as stupid - excuses for the last three visits you’ve been to.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Techno pointed at them, “That is because different emergencies occurred each time.”

 

They sighed, “I doubt that. What’s your excuse this time?”

 

Techno looked at Tommy and conspicuously whispered, “What’s our excuse?”

 

“Um…” Tommy thought for a moment, the chaos fuelling his energy, “We were being chased by a group of rabid polar bears.” He spoke confidently and calmly, looking the person directly in the eyes.

 

Techno pointed at him, nodding with equal confidence, “Yes. Exactly.”

 

The person sighed yet again and typed something into the computer in front of them, “Okay. Don’t blame me when Elder Puffy tells you off, though.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

They sighed again, “Well you’re almost two hours late for your meeting, so it’s been rescheduled for an hour’s time. You should’ve been sent an email.”

 

Techno looked blankly at them.

 

They ignored the look, instead turning to Tommy, “Since you’ve never been here before I’ll need some of your details now.”

 

“Um,” Tommy looked uncertainly at Techno, who nodded at least somewhat encouragingly, “Sure.”

 

“Ok, can I have your full name, age, birthday, species and gender?”

 

“Thomas Craft, 16, 9th of September, I’m human – I think, and male but only kind of.”

 

“Okay, that's great, thank you. You can either wait here or… you know what? You can wait here. I don’t trust Technoblade to be let loose in the Sanctuary unsupervised.”

 

Techno looked indignant, “Actually, I was thinking of showing him the Death Book.”

 

They blinked, “The Death Book? Why?”

 

Techno shrugged, “I thought he’d be interested.”

 

“Okay…" They looked thoughtful, "well Sneeg’s on duty in about a minute, so I can take you there if you’d like?”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

Tommy had no idea what they were talking about.

 

They looked at him, “I’m Olive, by the way. My pronouns are they/them but I’m good with any.”

 

Tommy nodded, still mostly unsure as to what was happening.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

A few minutes later, after following Techno and Olive through the corridors of the Sanctuary, Tommy was standing in yet another library (Seriously, what was the deal with magic people and having libraries?) looking at a large leather-bound book that stood in a glass case. There were countless objects in cases like that scattered around the library, but none were as prominent as this. It stood in the centre of the library, lit up by a bright light underneath it with gold carvings in the stand it rested on.

 

It stood closed; words carved into the front in an ancient language Tommy didn’t understand.

 

“This,” Techno said smugly, as he owned the object, “is the Death Book.”

 

Tommy blinked at him, utterly unimpressed, “So?”

 

“What do you mean, ‘so’? this is one of the most powerful objects in existence!”

 

Tommy nodded calmly, “Ah. You see, Tech-no-blade, I really just do not care.”

 

He heard Olive snort in laughter beside him, “Yeah Techno,” they said, “it’s not that special. I suppose it’s like you in that sense.”

 

“Exactly! They get it!” Tommy fist bumped Olive, grinning deviously at Technoblade, who spluttered.

 

“Anyway,” Olive said to Tommy, “Do you want to go and do something actually interesting now? We could go ghost hunting or something.”

 

“Hell yes!” Tommy remembered how he and Tubbo used to go ‘ghost hunting’ together, where the pair would just sit in front of Tubbo’s curtains, yelling whenever the wind pushed them around and adamantly insisting to Sam that their house was haunted.

 

Techno looked at Tommy, “Well I suppose if you want to go ghost hunting with Olive you can – just know that if you do you won’t be able to go to the vault with me.”

 

“WAIT,” Tommy yelled dramatically, “NO PLEASE! Let me go with you”

 

Techno looked as if he was about to respond when Olive said, “Wait, do you mean the vault? As in the Craft Vault.”

 

Techno nodded, looking at them curiously. Olive’s eyes widened, “No way!  I heard that there’s a load of ghosts there! I’ve always wanted to explore!”

 

Tommy’s eyes widened, “You can actually speak to ghosts?”

 

“Yep!” They nodded happily, “It’s the magic I chose to work on.”

 

“Awesome!” Tommy’s face glowed with excitement, “Can you show me? How do you do it? Is it scary?” He spoke to Technoblade, “Why can’t you do that?”

 

Techno looked back at Tommy with a bland annoyance – an expression Tommy had gotten very accustomed to.

 

“I’m sorry if throwing fire and superstrength isn’t good enough for you.” Tommy entirely missed the sarcasm,

 

“Good. You should be. But, because I’m a good person, if you want to tell me more about the Death Book you can. Purely to boost your severely lacking ego, of course. It’s not like I actually care or anything.”

 

Techno rolled his eyes, “Well the rumour is that it’s another one of Goddess of Death’s books. It has a list of everyone in the world in it. If you cross their name out and burn that page they’ll die almost immediately. Is that cool enough for you?”

 

Tommy did his best to hide his excitement, instead saying, “It’s not ghost hunting, but I guess it’ll do.”

 

Techno’s still annoyed expression perfectly juxtaposed Olive’s laugh.

 

“Come on, child. We’re going to be late for the meeting.”

 

Tommy raised his eyebrows, “Oh, so now you care, Technobitch?”

 

If Techno had to suppress an amused grin, no one noticed.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

Olive guided them to a hall and waited outside while Techno and Tommy entered the main room of the sanctuary. Tommy, for the first time, saw the elders.

 

They were sitting behind a large oak table, looking past him and at Techno with remarkably similar expressions on their faces.

 

In the centre was a short woman with long curly hair that was dyed so one half was pure white and the other brown. She was wearing a long red coat and a hat that made her outfit remarkably like a pirate’s.

 

On her left was a tall person with shoulder length curly brown hair, a crown on their head and some sunglasses. They wore a long dress that was a similar colour to the woman’s coat, a golden cape, and some thigh high boots.

 

On the right was a man with blue tinged skin and crystals growing dotted around his head that were the same cornflower blue as his eyes. He was dressed the most casually by far in just a blue hoodie and jeans.

 

The woman in the middle spoke, “Technoblade, not only were you late, but you used the emergency exist again, this time using the excuse that you were being ‘chased by a pack of rabid polar bears’.”

 

“Ah,” Techno nodded at her, “Yes. That was Olive's idea.”

 

The woman raised an eyebrow, “Sure. I presume that this is the boy.”

 

“Yes, this is Tommy. I apologise in advance for anything and everything he says.”

 

She smiled slightly, observing Tommy. The person on her left spoke, “When was the last time he showered?” They laughed slightly as they spoke, “He smells pretty bad.”

 

Tommy opened his mouth, fully prepared to yell at them when Techno’s hand clapped over his mouth.

 

The women looked at Techno, slightly taken aback, “Sorry,” Techno said, “He was probably going to yell something offensive- are you licking my hand?!

 

He removed his hand as if Tommy had burned it, looking down at the saliva in disgust. Tommy grinned triumphantly up at him and the person on the left had to clap a hand over their own mouth to prevent themself from laughing aloud. The other two smirked and the man on the right spoke,

 

“I like him already.”

 

Tommy straightened up proudly, smirking at Techno who seemed even more annoyed than before, wiping his hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

 

“So,” the woman was still poorly supressing a smile as she spoke to Tommy, “My name is Elder Puffy, and this is Elder Eret and Elder Skeppy.”

 

Tommy nodded, trying to remember their names. He didn’t know a whole lot of people, so it wasn’t very hard.

 

“I take it that you agreed to help Technoblade out on his current case?”

 

Tommy nodded, back to reverting to blind confidence, his brain blocking out all the nerves that he should be feeling, “Yep. I figured that he’s pretty shit at his job so he could use the help from someone as awesome as me.”

 

“What he means,” Techno cut it, “is that I rescued him from an attacker, and he refused to leave me alone.”

 

Tommy nodded, “Yeah, that too I suppose.”

 

“Okay…?” Puffy sounded unsure of what to say, “Well at least Tommy agreed to this, but I hope that if he doesn’t manifest any magical traits soon this will be the last of our affairs that he is involved in.” She looked at Techno with an accusatory expression.

 

Techno gave a half shrug, “Probably. But his father is Philza Craft so I suppose we’ll have to see.”

 

“Wait,” Eret said, “you mean he’s from the Craft family? And he only just found out about magic?”

 

Techno hesitated, “It was a… special case.”

 

“Care to elaborate?” They looked over their glasses at him, revealing eyes that had no pupils. It shouldn’t have shocked Tommy given everything he had recently seen, but he was surprised anyway.

 

“Not really.”

 

Eret simply nodded, readjusting their glasses.

 

“You never actually told us what you’re doing with him.” Skeppy snapped slightly.

 

“You never asked.” Techno calmly responded.

 

“Well now I am.”

 

“I want to investigate Dream. I believe it was one of his men who attacked Tommy.”

 

Puffy’s demeanour immediately changed, “Techno, please stop obsessing over my son. He’s changed a lot since the war – we can all see that except you.”

 

Skeppy nodded approvingly, “You've accused Dream of doing something heinous countless times now, which is bad enough on its own but now you’re dragging a child into it?”

 

Hey, I am not a child!”

 

“And a human one, at that. This really is a new low. You have no evidence on Dream whatsoever.”

 

“Well, who else would it be?”

 

Puffy stared at him, “I don’t know, but why don’t you investigate that instead? I know that you and Dream dislike each other-”

 

“That’s an understatement.” Eret muttered,

 

“-but that doesn’t mean that you can accuse him of attacking Tommy! He hasn’t done anything wrong since he was released from jail.”

 

“HEY!” Tommy yelled, “I was the one attacked here! Don’t you think you should listen to me?!”

 

“You’re a child,” Skeppy snapped, “We’re not going to take your word for it when you don’t even understand the situation.”

 

Tommy gaped at him, “Look I’m sorry but did you see me get attacked?! Techno saved my life multiple times, so you’ll excuse me if I trust him more than you when you’ve done fuck-all to help!”

 

Puffy spoke to Techno while Skeppy glared at Tommy, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion, “Techno, I’m sorry but you accuse Dream of doing something wrong at least once a decade, so you’ll excuse me for not trusting you. Please find something better to do with your time and leave Tommy out of this.”

 

Tommy wanted to yell again but one look from Techno shut him up, “Puffy, I know that you trust Dream and I get that – he is your son after all, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore that he hasn’t been in the sanctuary much recently. Both spies to sent to watch him turned up dead. Even George thinks he’s up to something, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t want to idly sit by and do nothing if he’s planning on trying to take over!”

 

“That’s enough!” Skeppy yelled, glaring at Techno, “Stop this! It could have been anything that killed Smallish and Solidarity, stop blaming people who probably had nothing to do with it!”

 

Techno looked like he was going to argue but Eret spoke instead, maintaining their calm demeanour despite the yelling, “What do you think his motives would be, if it was Dream?”

 

“I think he’s after the Revive Book.”

 

Skeppy laughed loudly and coldly, “You don’t really think that do you? I know you dislike Dream but I didn’t imagine that you’d stoop so low as to think he’d want something that doesn’t even exist.”

 

“Elder Skeppy,” Puffy snapped, “That is enough. But Techno, you are aware that the Revive Book isn’t real, correct?”

 

Techno nodded, “Of course but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to find it. He’s believed in it for years.”

 

Puffy sighed, “No he doesn’t. Please, Techno. Find something else to do.”

 

Techno scowled, “Fine. If you’re stupid enough to not even bother asking him yourself, I’ll have to continue without your support.”

 

Puffy rubbed her forehead, exhaling heavily, “I suppose I can’t stop you. But if you do anything to harm him without a good reason, I will have no choice to arrest you.”

 

Techno nodded, “That’s fair.”

 

“You may leave. The other elders and I need to discuss this together.”

 

Techno turned and walked out with Tommy quickly following suit. They found Olive still waiting for them, who raised their eyebrows at Techno,

 

“That didn't sound like it went very well.”

 

“Hmm,” was all Techno said, before looking at Olive intently. They shuffled around on the spot uncomfortably. Tommy noticed that Techno’s gaze tended to do that to people, “You said that you can talk to ghosts, right?”

 

Olive nodded, “I- yes, I can.”

 

Techno nodded approvingly, “How would you like to go to the Craft Vault with us?”

 

Olive’s mouth fell open.

Notes:

Yo!

Don't ask why Olive's here because, trust me, I have no idea. They weren't in ANY of my plans up until actally writing this but, hey, here they are! And not me giving them the ability to talk to ghosts because of them being level 1000 in phasmaphobia- (Seriously though, I love them so much they've recently become one of my favourite CCs)

Also ERET AND PUFFY!! :D YAY!!! And fyi I only used they/them pronouns for Eret here so as not to be confusing as to who I'm talking about - to be clear, though, she uses any pronouns :)

Anyway, I uploaded this a bit early because otherwise I'll be stuck in waiting mode for the rest of the day instead of doing my art homework.

Please let me know about typos and enjoy your day!!

Chapter 10: An Unexpected Seance

Notes:

TW: Unstable rooms (earthquake-like shaking), paranormal activity (that's mostly crack though ngl)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tommy struggled to adjust his eyes to the dim light in the basement of an art gallery in central L’manberg.

 

Tommy, Tubbo and Sam used to visit the gallery semi regularly when Tommy was a kid and going there was still highly regarded as a huge treat by the family. Tommy struggled to comprehend how he could visit somewhere so much and still not know the magic that was tied so tightly to its roots. That seemed to be happening a lot though – with this, George’s library that looked just like an old building; bus stops that he’d gotten off at with Tubbo; hell, even the Craft Manor. Tommy wondered how many other places that he had core memories at had other forms of magic around that he would never know about.

 

Olive had agreed to go with them after Techno had explained the situation. Apparently, they had been so enthusiastic that the vault was haunted that they made Techno want to see if any ghosts knew anything about the book. Tommy shouldn’t have been so surprised to find that ghosts were real.

 

Snifferish, the security guard, led them through the basement that was now being used as a storage room to the other wall where a tapestry hung between boxes and shelves full of sculptures and paintings. A few flickering yellow bulbs cast an eerie light upon the room, throwing shadows around. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched and was constantly on edge; every shadow was some magical creature about to strike, each statue was another one of Dream’s men preparing to attack, every painting held a danger too fearsome to behold.

 

Technoblade glanced back at Tommy, who had fallen behind the rest of the group.

 

“You good, kid?”

 

Tommy jumped as he realised that Techno was talking to him,

 

“Yeah, I’m good Big Man. I’m an alpha male, I don’t get scared. Fear? Pfft, never heard of it. You’re a pussy.”

 

“Alright then.” Tommy sped up slightly though to catch up to the others.

 

 They stopped at a tapestry at the end of the room which sat between boxes and shelves of art, looking neglected but still in reasonably good shape. It depicted a man Tommy had never seen before with black armour that seemed to glow purple, a green shirt and a mask that covered his face bearing a sinister smile. Even just the sight of the blank smile boring into Tommy’s eyes sent a shiver of dread down his spine. There was something eerily lifelike about the tapestry.

 

“That’s Dream,” Techno muttered, “he’s worn that mask for years and no one really knows why.”

 

Tommy nodded with his eyebrows, unable to draw his eyes away from the vibrant colours of the fabric that shone through the fine layer of dust that obscured everything around it. A feeling of dread built in his chest; this is who was after him? Tommy hoped he wasn’t as mind numbingly terrifying in real life.

 

Snifferish grinned, “This is the vault. You won’t be able to get in, obviously, because you'd need a member of the Craft family for that,” Tommy shifted uncomfortably in place, “but you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like. should go, though, to make sure the humans know to leave. No pressure for you to leave just yet but please be gone by nightfall.”

 

“Thanks,” Olive was practically thrumming with excitement, they seemed to be unable to stand still.

 

After Snifferish had left Techno wasted no time in pushing the tapestry to one side revealing nothing but blank wall along with a few dusty cobwebs.

 

“That was less impressive than I though it would be,” Olive remarked, and Tommy silently agreed.

 

“Give me a minute.” Techno began a thorough inspection of the wall while Tommy doubted that he would find anything. “Ah. Tommy, come over here.”

 

“Why?” Tommy wandered over to Techno’s side anyway, looking expectantly at him.

 

“Put your hand here.”

 

Tommy scowled, “You know what? No. How about you tell me what’s going on for once and then I’ll think about it.”

 

Techno’s scowl was almost enough to make him back down.

 

Almost, but not quite.

 

Techno, likely realising that this was not a battle worth fighting, said, “There’s a mark here on the wall. I think if you touch it the vault will open. It’s common knowledge was that you need a Craft to touch the vault to open it so it should work.”

 

Tommy pondered his options. He figured that he could either

 

  1. Be obnoxious and not do what he was told
  2. Do what Techno wanted and get into the vault.

 

As ever, he elected to do the prior.

 

“What if I don’t?”

 

He didn’t know it was possible for Techno to look so annoyed,

 

“I will personally kill you.”

 

“Oh. That’s fair.”

 

He pressed his hand where Techno had pointed and the scowl on his face evaporated.

 

A churning sound filled the stone room like rusted cogs turning for the first time in centuries. Tommy felt the ground literally shaking, rattling ceramic around, shaking dust from the high ceiling onto the three people, causing the tapestry to ripple like water and push the cobwebs off.

 

Tommy swallowed, shutting his eyes, and not daring to even look up in fear that the ceiling was going to collapse on him. He frantically reached out, grabbing onto the first thing he felt to try and gain stability. He quickly realised that the object happened to be Techno’s arm who, even faster, reached out and pulled Tommy to him, trying to shield him from the ceiling that sounded like it was about to collapse.

 

Then, as quickly as it started, the shaking stopped with the noise stopping simultaneously. But still, Tommy remained frozen in place, eyes clamped shut, clinging onto Techno, who also didn’t let go.

 

After a few moments Tommy risked cracking open his eyes, looking slowly around the room. Immense relief flooded his body as he was met by no cracks in the stone or a ceiling that was about to cave in. instead, when he looked around where blank wall had been behind the tapestry was a large doorway into a cavern. He squinted into it, wondering what could be in the depths. From all he could see, it looked mostly empty, just stone walls similar to those that already surrounded him with more shelves and boxes packed with objects that Tommy couldn’t recognise.

 

It looked like simply an extension to the room they were already in if you didn’t count that it was marginally worse lighting.

 

Techno cleared his throat and Tommy realised, with a flush of embarrassment, that he was still clinging onto the man. Pretending that there was no red tinge to his cheeks or neck Tommy pulled away, stumbling slightly.

 

He coughed as he was met with a cloud of dust, blinking more out of his eyes that had begun to water excessively.

 

Olive was still grinning despite the dust that made their hair look white and covered their clothes.

 

“Come on!” They practically yelled, stepping through the doorway into the vault.

 

Tommy looked at Techno incredulously which Techno returned before they both followed Olive.

 

“Oh yeah,” Olive didn’t even bother looking at them, too busy walking around the room, “there’s definitely something around this area.”

 

As soon as the words left their mouth the doorway closed behind Techno without the shaking and creaking this time.

 

Great, Tommy thought, as if this wasn’t terrifying enough already.

 

The walls seemed much closer now, shutting in on Tommy, trapping him.

 

“Tommy? Are you okay?” Olive asked, “You look frightened.”

 

“Nope. Not me. I can fight a ghost, no big deal.”

 

Neither of them responded, Olive continuing to look around for signs of ‘paranormal activity’ and Techno searching for another area.

 

“Ah,” Techno said after a few minutes, “I found an entrance for another part of the vault.”

 

“Great,” Tommy muttered, “Just what I wanted. Another part of the haunted vault to explore.”

 

“I thought you wanted to go ghost hunting.”

 

Tommy glared at Techno, “Shut up.”

 

Tommy’s glare only increased as he saw the so called ‘entrance’ which turned out to be a small hole in the base of a wall that lay behind a box. With a lot of grumbling and complaining (mostly by Tommy) all three of them crawled through into a room that – at the first sign of life – lit up, the candles and small lamps around immediately flickering to life.

 

“Whoah,” Tommy and Olive gasped at the same time.

 

This room was huge; far too big to fit underneath the gallery with the ceiling towering far above them. The objects lining the room looked pristine, bronze shields shimmering, gold jewellery reflecting the yellow light, the books that were held up by pedestals looking timeless – old in style but in brand-new condition.

 

The room was circular, with steps in a ring leading down to an area in the centre that held a strange looking black table with a red tablecloth which a closed book hovered over. The book seemed to glow purple in the same way that sets of armour around the room did. The books scattered around the room seemed to have the same effect, casting a faint purple glow around them.

 

“What is that?” Tommy breathed, not expecting an answer.

 

“An Enchantment Table. They’re incredibly rare. George has been looking for one for years for his library. I thought they’d all been destroyed.”

 

“What does it do?”

 

“It’s called an Enchantment Table, isn’t it?”

 

Tommy looked at him blankly.

 

“It enchants things. You see the books around? They all contain different enchantments that can be put on armour or assorted weaponry. Most enchantments can only be put on netherite – a special, extremely strong, extremely rare kind of metal that you can only find in the Nether. That’s what my sword – Orphan Obliterator – is made of.”

 

“You named your sword Orphan Obliterator?”

 

Techno cleared his throat, a slight red tinge colouring his cheeks, “That is the least important thing I just told you.”

 

“You do realise that up until yesterday I thought I was an orphan, right? That’s pretty problematic of you, you know.”

 

“I told you it doesn’t matter.”

 

“Sure. Kill the orphans. I’m going to twitter cancel you.”

 

Techno opened his mouth to respond but Olive beat him to it, “Shush. There’s definitely some kind of ghost here. It feels powerful.”

 

Tommy didn’t know what to think about that. If you asked him any more than ten minutes ago he would have said that he was a complete sceptic and that he didn’t believe in ghosts. Sure, the idea that ghosts were real was cool and he used to lie awake at night staring into his dark room in the hope of seeing one, but he didn’t really believe that he ever would. It was always Tubbo who claimed to see and hear ghosts, but Tommy never really believed him. Now though, he wondered if Tubbo was being honest.

 

“You- you think so?” Tommy’s voice came out much less confident than he intended.

 

“Yes.”

 

“So how do we talk to them? I’m new to the ghost hunting business myself.” Techno said, sounding much calmer than Tommy did.

 

“We should start by just trying to get them to reveal themself.” They raised their voice slightly to talk to the rest of the room, “If there is anyone here, please make yourself known.”

 

“Hello.” Tommy replied, meriting a look from Olive,

 

“Not you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Olive repeated their request.

 

Tommy jumped and whipped around to look over his shoulder as he felt something cold touch his back that felt suspiciously like a hand.

 

“What happened?” Olive asked.

 

“Something touched my back,” Tommy said, still scanning the room around him to try and see the thing that touched him to no avail.

 

Olive nodded, looking even more exited than they had before, “Thank you for that. If you’re still here, just to be sure, can you touch Tommy again?”

 

“Hang on, please don’t- AHH!” The same hand-like thing poked at Tommy’s arm.

 

“Did it work?” Olive’s eyes were shining.

 

“If touching my arm counts, yes.”

 

“Great! That’s great. Now that we know something’s here, we’d like to talk to you. We have some questions for you.”

 

No response.

 

Tommy shivered at the temperature suddenly dropped and a gust of icy air pushed at him.

 

“What happened?” It was Techno who asked now.

 

“Did you feel that? The cold air.”

 

“No.”

 

Tommy stamped his foot, scowling, “Why are the ghosts targeting me?”

 

“Come on,” Olive said to him, “the ghosts clearly feel the most connection to you. Do you want to see if we can summon them?”

 

Tommy slumped over, realising his fate but dreading the thought that he could be possessed, “Do we have to?”

 

“This is what we came here for, right? I thought you said you can fight a ghost, right?”

 

“Well yes but that doesn’t mean-” Tommy never got to finish his statement when he froze as another hand touched his shoulder. “Fuck… I don’t want to do this.”

 

Techno, not picking up on his desperation, raised an eyebrow, “Tough luck 'alpha male'. Come on. Olive, show us what to do.”

 

Olive looked around, still searching the room. They wandered over to an empty space in one area of the room and sat down. They reached into their bag and pulled out a pot of salt, a lighter, some candles and a smudge stick.

 

“Do you just have that with you?” Tommy was feeling yet more dread, even more than he had been feeling before. Great, Tommy thought, he was back to shaking again.

 

“Sure. You never know when you’ll need to conduct a séance.”

 

“Weird.” Tommy reluctantly followed Techno over to Olive who sat down beside them.

 

When they were all sitting down in a circle Olive began to spread the salt around the three in a circle, waving the burning smudge stick around. Tommy didn’t know much about magic or witchcraft, but this was pretty fucking scary.

 

Olive sat down once they were finished and pulled the lighter back out to light the candles.

 

Placing the smudge stick down, they offered their hand to Tommy and Techno so the whole group was holding hands in a circle. Tommy tried to push the panic down at how suddenly this was all happening; he didn’t agree to participating in a séance but here he was anyway. He forced his breathing back to normal, trying (and failing) to stay calm. As if he had sensed Tommy’s panic, Techno squeezed his hand a bit tighter. It didn’t do much to calm him, but it was a nice gesture. Or it was just a mistake - it was probably a fifty-fifty chance.

 

Olive cleared their throat, “We welcome any spirits in this area into the spell circle. We wish to communicate with you.” They looked up at Tommy and spoke in a quieter tone, “This might take a while.”

 

The words had barely left his mouth when a figure appeared in the circle. They were incredibly short with a hat covering long hair. They had a bright smile and dark eyes.

 

“Hello!” They said in a slight Welsh accent, “I’m Aimsey!”

 

Olive blinked a look of shock on their face, “Hi... Um, to be clear, you are a ghost, right?”

 

Aimsey nodded, “Yep! Thanks for summoning me, by the way. it’s been a long time since I’ve seen another person.”

 

Tommy really had no clue what was going on, except for the fact that he wasn’t being murdered and the ghost seemed friendly, so he supposed that his odds of being killed were lower.

 

Olive nodded slightly, looking as if they were about to pass out, “Cool. Forgive me if I seem shocked. No entity I’ve spoken to has seen this… alive.”

 

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I have been told that I’m unique.”

 

Olive chuckled slightly but their eyes were still unusually wide.

 

Techno spoke, cutting immediately to his point, “How long have you been here for?”

 

Aimsey began hovering off the floor, crossing their legs in mid-air, “No idea. Probably a couple of centuries but it’s hard to tell. Unlike most ghosts I change appearance with the time.”

 

Oh, Tommy thought, so that explains the modern outfit.

 

“By the way, you don’t need to stay in the spell circle. This entire room is protected from outside entities. Plus I can take corporal form anywhere here, I just wanted to fuck with the Craft.”

 

“Hey!” Tommy burst out. He was already the most scared, ghosts targeting him only made it worse.

 

Aimsey grinned and the three let go of each other’s hands, Tommy silently thankful since his palms were getting gradually sweatier. “Sorry dude, but it was funny. Plus you said you can fight me.”

 

Tommy scowled, “Oh go on then. I could take you any day bitch-”

 

“Who are you people, by the way? You never gave me an introduction.”

 

“I’m Olive. This is Technoblade and Tommy Craft.”

 

Aimsey’s eyes widened, and they didn’t seem to be able to hear the second name, “Technoblade? As in the Technoblade? The Blood God?”

 

Tommy pretended not to notice how Techno stood taller, a small proud smile on his face, “That’s me.” Tommy also ignored the smug look Techno shot at him.

 

“Whoa. There are so many stories about you! Is it true that you were blessed by the Goddess herself? Are you really a god? I’ve heard stories that you have the strength of over a thousand people!”

 

With each word the smug look intensified. Tommy wanted nothing more than to punch it off his face.

 

“I’m not a god, no, and nor have I had any direct contact with the Goddess – though I have met others who would technically be counted as deities. I maybe wouldn’t say I'm as strong as a thousand people, but I’d give myself about a hundred.”

 

Tommy snorted, “Bullshit.”

 

“You haven’t seen me fight.”

 

“Yes I have-”

 

“Not properly. But fine, maybe I exaggerated a bit, but I am objectively very strong.”

 

Their argument seemed irrelevant to Aimsey, who seemed to no longer be in a state of awe and had instead floated over to Tommy and began poking his arm repeatedly.

 

“Why are you doing that?”

 

“Because I can.”

 

“Please stop.”

 

At the same time Techno said, “Keep going. It’s funny.”

 

Aimsey seemed to listen to Techno much more than Tommy. Tommy sighed and scowled, though he didn't move.

 

“So Aimsey,” Aimsey stopped poking Tommy to look back at Olive, “What did you do in life?”

 

“I was a historian. I looked into ancient deities and magical objects.”

 

Techno nodded, “That’s perfect, actually.”

 

“I have been told that I’m perfect before.”

 

“In that case, do you know anything about the Revive Book?”

 

Aimsey’s eyes lit up even more, “Ooooh yes, I do! I worked on that for a long time!”

 

Techno nodded, “That’s great, can you tell us about it please?”

 

“Sure!” Aimsey looked how Tubbo told Tommy he looked when he was talking about his favourite series or game, “It was created by or for the Goddess of Death, that’s for certain. The main rumour is that the Angel of Death dropped it while gathering souls on a battlefield but it’s impossible to know for sure. Some sources say that she gave it to a trusted human who died and left it behind. And some – though not many – say that the Goddess has many of them and just lost one that she didn’t notice was gone. As I said, it’s impossible to know.” They spoke incredibly quickly though Tommy didn’t struggle to keep up. So he took the moment to ask,

 

“Wait a second, everyone talks about this ‘Angel of Death’ dude, but who is he?”

 

Tommy didn’t notice Techno looking determinedly away from him,

 

“That depends on what you believe. Some believe that the Goddess created him herself, others that he was a fallen human or that she blessed him with her power. There are hundreds of stories about him with very little evidence behind any of them. He used to collect souls – specifically from battles but he disappeared a while ago. No one knows who he is or where he went; it’s like he just stopped existing.”

 

“Wow,” Olive breathed, “That’s a lot.”

 

“Mhm.” Aimsey was now hanging upside down in the air, staring off into the distance.

 

Tommy glanced at Techno who had become suspiciously quiet and was still looking anywhere except at Tommy.

 

“Anything else about the book?”

 

“It renound because you can use it to revive any dead person – write their name in it and throw it in lava. The person will be reanimated withing twenty-four hours. But that’s the catch. You must burn it – that’s where the rumour that you can only use i once comes from, as well as that the Goddess could have many. If she can only use one book once she may need a lot of books. If she has so many of one thing, well, she’s less likely to notice when one goes missing. But that could make it even more dangerous. If someone was to learn the contents they could potentially make an infinite amount of the books. That's all theoretical, though.”

 

Techno was now looking at Aimsey in surprise, “I… didn’t know that.”

 

Aimsey nodded happily, “Like the angel, the book disappeared years ago. A lot of the information about it disappeared at the same time.”

 

“It’s returned.” Tommy burst out. Aimsey stopped floating about, nearly crashing to the ground before they caught themself. Tommy supposed that even if they had fallen it couldn’t hurt. Could ghosts feel pain? He wanted to ask but Aimsey seemed too shocked by the last piece of information.

 

“It’s… back?”

 

“Not back,” Techno spoke over Tommy, “But we know someone who is looking for it. We need to find it before them.”

 

Aimsey seemed even more shocked, their face going paler – could ghosts go pale? Aimsey was already literally see through.

 

“Who- who’s looking for it? Why would they be looking for it?”

 

“He wants power. He’s a ‘reformed’ war criminal.”

 

“That’s too much power for one person to have.”

 

“I agree. We want to stop him from getting it.”

 

Aimsey nodded, chewing their nails, lips white, “Please do. Stop him, I mean. Honestly, destroy it. We can’t trust humanity to have it, it’s too much power.” Techno solemnly agreed, “As to where it is... I can guess but I’m not sure. I knew people who researched its possible location, but I didn’t work on it much myself. Obviously, it’s connected to the Craft family with their links to the Angel of Death, but other than that… it’s likely underground. That was something a friend told me when they worked on it.”

 

Techno frowned slightly, rubbing a hand on his jaw slightly, “Thank you. You’ve been a big help.”

 

The words barely left his mouth when a rumbling noise filled the room, bouncing off the weaponry along the walls and the glass cabinets that scattered the floor.

 

Techno and Tommy locked eyes; it was the noise of the vault door opening.

 

Aimsey’s eyes widened, and they whipped to look around at the door, lips even paler, eyebrows rising to their hat.

 

The room continued to shake, and Tommy froze, unable to move his legs from their position. He wasn’t sure if his hands were shaking from the room or from adrenaline.

 

“Who-?” Olive let their sentence immediately trail off; they also looked like they were shaking, but Tommy didn’t know for sure due to his vision was wavering.

 

Tommy looked around, trying to focus on the others but failing. Aimsey flickered and vanished, dissipating into thin air. What was worse was when the sound of footsteps echoed through the room beside them – no one seemed to want to move, leading to a few moments of silence, listening intently to the person beside them.

 

Locking eyes with Techno, Tommy knew that they were thinking about the same thing.

 

Dream.

 

But how could he get in? Dream wasn’t related to the Crafts…

 

Techno silently gestured at the others to stay still, drawing his black sword from his belt with the same purple glow as the other weapons in the room. He silently padded across the room to stand by the small entrance, sword raised.

 

A few more minutes passed of Tommy barely daring to breath, eyes fixated on the entrance, gradually beginning to sting as he didn’t blink.

 

But then the footsteps grew closer to the entrance, shuffling about. Then, the person slipped through, and Tommy jumped far more than he guessed he would.

 

Ranboo?!”

 

 

Notes:

Hey folks!

Ok, so if you saw the tags earlier you may have guessed that there were originally meant to be two ghosts here - Aimsey and Billzo. Sorry about cutting Billzo, but after looking into his boundaries I found out that he said he didn't like fanfictions written about him. He was talking largely in the context of shipping, but even so, I don't want to risk violating his boundaries in any way - even if he could add more comedy to the scene. So yeah, sorry about that and sorry about putting the tags for him on previously.

Other than that, I don't hate how this chapter came out and 30K WORDS LETSGO!! I honestly didn't think I'd write this much so I think it's very cool that I did!!

And ngl I'm proud that I did actually plan Ranboo's appearance - I don't usually plan this kind of stuff, but I acually did for once!

Anyway, please tell my about any typos and have a wonderful day <3

Chapter 11: Yet Another Near Death Experience

Notes:

TW: Violence, near death, near panic attack, kidnapping, heights and falling

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tommy stared at his cousin, who stared back.

 

“Ranboo? As in Phil’s nephew?” Techno scowled as he realised that neither boy was going to answer him, both too busy staring at the other.

 

“Tommy?” Ranboo’s voice broke.

 

They both continued to stare.

 

Olive looked over at Techno, “I think we broke the Tommy.”

 

“Mhm”

 

“What- What are you doing here?” Tommy sounded almost as stunned as he felt.

 

Ranboo was still practically frozen except for opening and closing his mouth repeatedly.

 

“Huh,” Techno looked between him and Tommy, “The goldfish look must run in the family.”

 

Tommy glared at him through the shock, gaining an amused smirk.

 

“I- I was just looking for ideas for where Phil is…” Ranboo didn’t seem to be able to speak very well. Tommy frowned, having remembered how to speak,

 

“I thought you were in Esempii, how are you in L’manberg?”

 

Ranboo was unresponsive, looking down at his worn-out shoes.

 

A few more moments passed of silence, Techno and Olive watching the two boys.

 

Finally, Ranboo seemed to gain his voice, “I, um… I just thought that there would be information here since I doubt Phil's actually dead. I didn’t think anyone else would be here – especially not this late at night.”

 

“Oh.” Tommy still didn’t know what to say. Questions flung themselves around his mind too quickly for him to grab onto them and form words. “So… did everyone in the family know about magic except me?”

 

Ranboo shuffled awkwardly, chewing his lip, “Maybe. The Craft family is a pretty well renound magical family.”

 

“So… are you magic?”

 

Ranboo nodded awkwardly, the tips of his ears slightly red, “Yeah. I- uh- teleport.” He said it more like a question, as if he was asking for Tommy’s approval.

 

Tommy felt his eyes widen and he started flapping his hands by his sides, “Really?” Ranboo nodded, glancing off to one side, “Dude that is so cool!” Ranboo blinked at him with heterochromatic red and green eyes that Tommy used to see as steel grey.

 

“You- you think so?”

 

Yeah! Holy shit dude, how do you do it? What are the limitations?”

 

A small smile began to form on Ranboo’s face as he looked at Tommy who was practically vibrating on the spot and repeatedly shaking his hands with excitement.

 

Techno took that as the right moment to interject, “Well, I can confirm that Phil is alive considering that I've spoken to him. I can even show you where he is, if you’d like.”

 

Ranboo whipped around to stare at Techno, “Seriously? Can you? I really want to talk to him.”

 

“Why?” Tommy asked, wondering what reason Ranboo would have to see Phil (was he also a secret child of Phil’s? If that was true Tommy thought he may pass out).

 

Ranboo shrugged, the red tinge colouring his ears again as he ran a hand through his split dyed hair.

 

“Regardless,” Techno called before Tommy could start yelling, “we can’t take you right now since we’re rather… preoccupied. But once we’re done, we can take you since we’re probably gonna see him fairly soon anyway.”

 

Ranboo nodded, looking relieved, “Thanks. Thank you. That sounds great.”

 

Techno nodded without smiling, “We should leave. We’re done here. Come on.”

 

One by one the four crawled out of the room and back into the entrance to the vault where the door creaked open again for them, sounding much quieter this time. The other three left and Tommy turned around quietly and muttered a few words of thanks to Aimsey, promising to get the book before Dream. If he felt someone lightly punch his arm, he didn’t say anything.

 

 

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The corridor was dark by the time they were back up the stairs out of the basement, the setting sun a glorious view out of the window

 

The group walked through corridors following Techno who claimed to know exactly where they were going but (considering that they got lost multiple times in the winding building) Tommy doubted that.

 

They had reached a dead end by a window when Tommy finally burst out,

 

“Why the fuck did they build this place like a labyrinth?!”

 

Techno quickly answered, wanting to show off his knowledge, "Probably to stop intruders from escaping. They'll have a lot of magical break ins because of the vault."

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw Olive nod in agreement.

 

Then Tommy scanned the area and jumped as he saw a figure lurking in the shadows. It stepped forward into the faint light from the window with a horrified look on their face,

 

“I thought I told you guys to leave before nightfall!”

 

“Yes. And I didn’t listen.” Techno seemed to be unbothered by the interruption, “Speaking of leaving, you don’t happen to know the way out, do you?” He wandered over to Sniff, the rest of the group following him like sheep.

 

Sniff’s look of terror intensified as Techno approached and then strode past them. They glared at him, their anger not masking their fear, “Why the fuck are you still here? Don’t you know what will happen?!”

 

They just had time to spit out the last words before they doubled over, clutching their stomach, “Run,” they gasped, pain racking their body and they fell to their hands and knees, “Go!” They yelled.

 

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice, and apparently neither did the others. He ran down the corridor to the fork where they had entered. He turned back to look past Olive and Ranboo to see Snifferish’s body twist and contort, fur covering their skin and face elongating into a muzzle with sharp fangs protruding from their jaw.

 

“They’re a werewolf,” Techno hissed, apparently now much more on edge than he was before, “We need to run. They’ll immediately attack anyone in their vicinity.”

 

Techno began to back away, turning to run, but quickly saw that no one was moving, “Didn't you hear me?! I told you to run! Separate!”

 

That was all it took for Olive and Ranboo to begin running, turning around and running down opposite corridors. Techno, however, turned back to see Tommy frozen in place from the fear that paralysed his body. Techno wasted little time in grabbing Tommy’s arm and even less in sprinting down the corridor that headed straight, dragging Tommy with him.

 

That was all it took for adrenaline to kick in, fuelling Tommy’s legs to move forwards and pushing him to follow without Techno literally dragging him.

 

He could hear the wolf following him though they moved so quietly that it was a struggle to make out the padded footsteps on the carpet.

 

“Keep going, we should be able to get a lead now since Sniff’s still gaining their senses back after the shift!” Techno called to him, fear and desperation lacing his voice and giving Tommy an extra boost of energy – if something was strong enough to make Techno that afraid then Tommy should do as he said.

 

Even running as fast as he could, Tommy could tell that Techno was itching to speed up, forcing himself to slow his pace so he could stay beside Tommy. If Tommy was capable of fully forming thoughts at the time he would have been grateful.

 

As it was though, all he could focus on was keeping running despite the burning in his lungs and legs. He shouldn’t have been this tired so quickly; he supposed that was an effect of sitting in his room all day and never exercising. But even so, he kept running, not letting himself slow down as more adrenaline coursed through his body.

 

He didn’t know how long he ran for – time and space seemed to blend into an unrecognisable mess as he followed Techno through the winding corridors and rooms of the gallery. The only thing that felt real in his wavering reality were the desperate breaths he took, feeling like water clogged his lungs and forced all air out of his body.

 

The two eventually reached an area where the corridor spilt off into two sections and Techno spoke to Tommy quickly and in a low voice. Tommy could no longer hear Sniff’s footsteps, but that could be a good or bad thing.

 

“We need to split up – throw them off our scent. With any luck they’ll follow me. Just get out of here in any way you can, ok? We’ll meet up outside.” He sounded desperate as he looked at Tommy.

 

Tommy, through his gasps for air, managed to get out the words, “What- what about you?”

 

Techno shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, kid. Just meet me outside.”

 

Tommy nodded silently and turned, picking back up into a sprint despite his screaming muscles and Techno did the same in the opposite direction.

 

He’d barely made it down the corridor before he heard the sound of paws behind him and he could just conjure up one thought: fuck.

 

Techno’s plan hadn’t worked.

 

Tommy was truly fatigued by now and knew that he had no hope of outrunning a wolf. But he had no other plan, so he simply kept going. That is, he kept going until he reached yet another dead end with a window, the branches of a tree just visible through the glass.

 

Fuck, shit, pussy, wanker.

 

Tommy was trapped.

 

The only way out of the building from here with a wolf rapidly approaching was to jump out of the window. He whipped around to see Sniff running up the corridor, claws extended, and teeth bared in a growl.

 

Tommy made his decision, impulsively throwing his hands out, pushing air at the glass so it shattered, suddenly bursting into shards that scattered over the ground. He didn’t even have time to take a breath before the threw himself out the smashed window at the tree, praying that the branches would cushion his fall.

 

They did not.

 

The little air was forced out of his lungs as a large branch walloped his stomach. A smaller branch hit his head and he found himself slipping off the branch he landed on. He scrabbled around, trying to cling to a branch, scraping his fingers on the rough bark.

 

Finally, he gained balance on a branch that seemed secure and looked over at the window he had jumped from in time to see the wolf turn and pad down the corridor, walking away from where Tommy had just been. He took a breath of relief as well as he could while panting so much.

 

Then he realised something.

 

He didn’t even touch the window.

 

As soon as he envisioned the window shattering so he could escape, it broke into pieces with the perfect amount of room for Tommy to jump from. it was like he made the air around him solid as he pushed it at the glass with enough force to break the window.

 

But that wasn’t possible, was it?

 

The realisation quickly dawned on Tommy.

 

He did magic!

 

A grin forced itself onto his face despite the blood that spilled from a cut on his head into his eye. He actually did magic! Tommy had wished to do magic as soon as he found out it existed, and now it seemed like his wishes had been granted. Maybe now he could learn from Techno or join the council or do something more than what his mundane life at school forced him to do.

 

Fuelled by this thought, he pushed himself down, precariously lowering himself to the ground and letting go of the branch to be greeted with a short fall.

 

He stood still for a moment, taking in the area around him. He was standing just outside the art gallery on concrete with a row of trees surrounding him. He realised that his breath was rising, frozen in the cool air. The frost was another hint of the low temperature, but the adrenaline in his veins prevented his body from feeling the bite of the cool air. He knew it would probably be a little while until he could fully register the environment.

 

After a little while of trying to process what had just happened and getting enough oxygen into his body, loud calls of his name alerted Tommy to the others searching for him.

 

His body reacted quickly, and he found himself calling back until he saw Techno, Ranboo and Olive running at him. He didn’t have time to say anything before Techno grabbed him into a hug.

 

Tommy froze up, unsure of how to react. This was the second time he’d been this close to Techno and h didn’t respond to the contact.

 

“Thank prime you’re okay.” Techno said slightly too loudly into Tommy’s ear.

 

Tommy coughed slightly, attempting to push Techno away from him, “Um, I’m good Big Man. But let’s remember that personal space exists, yeah?”

 

“Sorry,” Techno muttered, letting Tommy go, “what happened?”

 

“Eh. A fair bit,” Tommy was still out of breath enough for his words to sound more like gasps, “got chased around and jumped out of the window. I also think I did magic.” He was too fatigued to correct his tone, so everything came out monotonous and sounding as detached from emotion as Tommy felt.

 

“I’m sorry, you what?!” Olive demanded.

 

 

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The next day Tommy found himself back in the Craft Manor.

 

Sam hadn’t been home the night before due to his work, so Tommy was greeted by Tubbo slapping him in the face for arriving so late and then hugging him. Tommy was starting to worry that he was upsetting Tubbo by being out of the house so much, saying he was with a friend but he couldn’t exactly tell him the truth. Plus, he wasn’t really lying; Techno hugging him yesterday seemed to be confirmation that they were at least past being acquaintances, but he wasn’t sure. Ranboo said he already had somewhere to stay and denied Tommy’s offer to stay at Sam’s house immediately. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was lying or not.

 

Tommy yawned – he hadn’t slept much the night before as he was preoccupied with trying – and failing – to do more magic. He had been trying to move objects around his room with the air, tried summoning a ball of fire in his hand, tried teleporting. None of it, to his annoyance, had worked. Not that he would've gotten much sleep anyway since Techno insisted on checking all of his wounds, meticulously cleaning them which had taken over an hour. So, all in all, it wasn't really his fault for being home so late.

 

Techno led Tommy down to the basement that Tommy didn’t even know existed until then and, in Techno fashion, told him nothing about why they were there.

 

Wilbur was out with a friend who had arrived back in L’manberg for the first time in years, so he made Techno swear not to demolish the house or break any doors down. Techno had agreed, but Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t spot Techno’s fingers crossed behind his back.

 

Now, the two stood in the basement beside a wall that held an empty bookshelf, a jukebox and door. Techno looked at Tommy with a smirk.

 

“I think we’ve found the book.”

 

Tommy stared at Techno yet again.

 

“What are you on about? This is a wall.”

 

Techno nodded, smirking more. Tommy hated it when Techno looked at him like that – with an expression that said, ‘I know more than you’.

 

“Yes. But it’s also our way to the book.”

 

Tommy wasted no time in glaring at Techno, “Can you stop being arrogant and cryptic for one minute and just tell me what the fuck you’re on about?”

 

Techno sighed, dropping the smirk for his usual expression that made him look like he was about the kill someone. “Remember what Aimsey said?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Of course I have to be working with someone with no object permanence.”

 

Tommy shrugged; now it was his time to smirk obnoxiously, “It’s all part of the TommyInnit charm.”

 

“The Tommy-what charm? You know what? I’m not actually going to ask.” He paused as if expecting Tommy to respond, but spoke again when he was greeted with silence, “Aimsey said that the book was likely buried underground somewhere, and it had a connection to the Craft family. Here is the entrance to some caves owned by Phil.”

 

Tommy gaped, “How many different locations does my family own that I don’t know about?!”

 

Techno shrugged, looking amused by Tommy’s reaction, “Numerous. You may find them some day.”

 

Tommy couldn’t process that quickly enough to respond.

 

“But the question is… how do we get in? Dream clearly knows about this already, it’s just the key that’s holding him back. We need to find it before him.”

 

The next few moments passed in a blur.

 

A burst of green smoke flooded the air surrounding them, obscuring Tommy’s vision and causing tears to flood his eyes as the gas stung them.

 

He looked around desperately, scanning the room only to find that he couldn’t see even a foot in front of his face. Loud clangs and smashes reverberated around the room and Tommy tried to back away, only to stumble and fall over the jukebox, landing painfully on one of the bruises that littered his body.

 

The smoke began to disperse as Tommy stumbled back onto his feet, almost tripping again.

 

That was when he saw the man – Dream.

 

He looked somehow infinitely more terrifying than he had in the tapestry, his mask's eyes glowing with a light the same green as the smoke. The green glow held no positive energy – just the acidic promise of instantaneous death. He stood almost as tall as Technoblade, but the lack of muscle made him seem far more elegant than the burly man. He looked like he would meticulously plan your death and smile with the mask the whole while as he watched you perish.

 

He was wearing the same set of netherite armour as he was in the tapestry, minus the helmet, and held a long sword by his side. There was something inhuman about his paper white skin and dead looking blonde hair. He was the very image of terror – something that seemed so very real, but impossible at the same time.

 

Tommy looked at Techno, who had a vibrant green bubble surrounding him that pulsated with a swirling glow and was lying on the floor, completely still with his eyes closed. He looked asleep – no, Tommy thought, he looked dead.

 

“Kill the boy.” Dream demanded.

 

Tommy whipped his head around to look at whoever he was talking to, knowing that he was powerless against Dream. His eyes finally focused on the man in a white hoodie. He didn’t even have time to wonder how the man was alive before Dream disappeared, taking Techno with him.

 

The man in white approached Tommy, eyes narrowed and lips in a thin line in an expression of pure rage, fury fuelling his movements as he approached.

 

I am going to kill you,” he hissed, drawing a dagger from his belt, “You can’t escape again. You can’t beat me.”

 

He continued approaching, twin daggers in each hand as he backed Tommy into a corner.

 

Tommy was sure the man could hear his heartbeat judging by how loudly it thumped in his own ears. It felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest – even more so than when he was running. He kept pointlessly backing away from the man until he hit the wall, knowing that he couldn’t escape. The man was blocking the only door and trying to run for it would just make it easier for the man to kill him.

 

So, he did the cowardly thing. He shut his eyes and waited for death to reach him, a strange calmness overcoming his senses as he accepted his fate.

 

But it never did.

 

Instead, he heard a small vroop sound in one ear and opened his eyes again only to see darkness as he felt like his body was being hurtled through space at the speed of light.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, the panic returning after the moment of calm that came with almost dying, wondering what the hell was going on but powerless to defend himself from it.

 

After what felt like hours of travelling, he found himself land heavily on a marble floor, his legs immediatley collapsing. He lay still for a moment, trying desperately not to throw up the little breakfast he had. He shut his eyes again, trying to ignore how the floor felt like it was spinning beneath him.

 

“Sorry,” an apologetic voice called from above him – one that could only belong to his favourite (and only) cousin.

 

“What they fuck, Ranboo?” Tommy gasped, struggling to force air in and out of his lungs, flinching as the movements aggravated the bruises on his chest

 

“I said I was sorry. And I did just save your life.”

 

Tommy, finally able to open his eyes, looked up at him, only to have to look back at the ground as the world began to spin again. He caught enough of a glimpse of the room to know he was in the Sanctuary, though.

 

“What happened?” he gasped.

 

“I was going into the Craft Manor because I wanted to have a look in one of the libraries, but I saw Dream leaving the basement with Techno; so, I thought you might be there. Turns out I was right. You’re welcome, by the way.” He sounded far calmer than Tommy.

 

“Thank you,” Tommy snapped. He probably would have sounded more grateful if he could think clearly. Finally, he looked up again, thankful that the world seemed somewhat stable, “What now?”

 

Ranboo looked back, “Now?” he said grimly, “we need to talk to the elders. They’re the only hope we have to get Techno back.”

 

 

Notes:

Heya folks!!!!

Sorry for the slightly late upload, I've been busy on another WIP and completely forgot about this lmao - I do plan on keeping my Monday + Thusday schedule for the moment though, don't worry.

I'm not the world's biggest fan of this chapter, mainly because the pacing seems off; but the pacing of the entire story is atrocious, so I'll have to live with it. (And yes, I know I said Ranboo's in American earlier shhhhhh I did more worldbuilding)

AND 300 HITS?! Whoa - I didn't expect to reach that!! It may not sound like much, but I'm proud of that since I'm half way through my first fic!! Thank you all so much!! Thanks for all the comments and kudos, by the way, it means so much to me <3

Have a wonderful day or night everyone! <3

Chapter 12: The Rescue Plan (or lack thereof)

Notes:

*Waltzes in with yet another late chapter*
TW: Death, kidnapping, blood, injury, murder

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wilbur laughed at something Niki was saying, almost choking on his cup of coffee.

 

The pair were sitting in a small coffee shop and talking idly. It had been a long time since Wilbur had seen Niki – about five years since he had visited Rivendell, but when she messaged him that she was in the area he had jumped at the offer to meet up.

 

It was nice, in a domestic way, just sitting and talking to an old friend amid such chaos. It was a good way to pull his thoughts from the knowledge that Dream was close to taking over the world.

 

Despite that, he doubted any distraction would be enough to stop him from worrying about his little brother; who knew so little about magic, who had been flung into this world with no warning. It seemed safe to say that Wilbur’s anxiety wouldn’t shut up until he knew Tommy was completely safe. He tried to drag himself away from falling into the darkness of those thoughts and talk to Niki. He was somewhat successful.

 

He barely saw Tommy as the boy grew up – watching him as if it was a montage in a film.  In every scene he was presented with a different boy – from the loud two-year-old he watched leave his home permanently; to the small four-year-old who ran around and refused to believe that Wilbur’s name was anything other than ‘Wilby’; then suddenly he was six and trying to fit as much chocolate cake in his mouth as possible; Wilbur blinked and he was eight and never shut up about Sam and Tubbo; and all of a sudden he was fourteen, on a camping trip in the forest behind the manor and laughing hysterically as Wilbur failed to start a fire without magic. Moments like that highlighted Wilbur’s life: watching his younger brother grow up from the side-lines, basking in any moment that he could spend with the boy and captivated by his every movement. It physically hurt whenever he had to leave his brother’s side, reminded of the life he could have had with Tommy had he not been taken. He trusted his father with his entire being and then some, but he didn’t think he could ever forgive him for giving Tommy away to a human – no matter how good his reason was.

 

But Wilbur learned to live with the pain, learned to live with the dagger that carved into his heart every time he even thought of the boy. It may not be the life he wanted, but it was the life he got, so he should make the most of it.

 

“Wilbur?” Niki asked, concern bubbling behind her eyes as Wilbur jumped out of his thoughts, “Are you okay?”

 

Wilbur shook the fuzz out of his head, “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine – just zoned out a bit there.”

 

Niki smiled slightly, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly though the concerned look didn’t leave her eyes, “I can tell. Do you want to talk about it? It seems to be bothering you.”

 

Wilbur sighed, tracing the rim of his now empty cup with a finger, “It’s… it’s my brother. I think I’ve told you about him."

 

Niki huffed slightly in an amused manner, “Yes, you have. A lot.”

 

Wilbur laughed slightly, remembering the many rants he went on to Niki about Tommy, “Ah. Sorry about that,” Niki waved her hand in a way that said it didn’t matter, “well… he kind of-” the words stuck in Wilbur’s throat, but he did his best to unstick them, “he knows about magic”

 

Niki’s eyebrows shot up, “Really? I thought Phil was determined to keep that away from him.”

 

Wilbur nodded, laughing slightly without his previous humour, “He was, yeah. But Tommy has a knack of getting into trouble. Long story short, we think Dream’s after him.”

 

The look of fear on Niki’s face was unmatched, “Dream?! But why-”

 

Wilbur shook his head and cut her off, “We think he’s after the Revive Book and he thinks Tommy knows where it is. Of course, he doesn’t but Dream’s sent people to attack him twice now. I-” Wilbur’s voice cracked, “I want to protect him, but I don’t think I can. Especially not when all of humanity could be in danger and Techno seems intent on dragging him into this anyway.”

 

His vision wavered as if he was underwater. It took him a moment to feel the tears slowly dripping down his face, his senses numb from the despair of what could happen to his Tommy. Tommy should be safe, in the mortal world and not directly in Dream’s firing line. To Dream, Tommy was nothing more than an insect. He would be so easy to kill. Wilbur didn’t think he could live with himself if that happened.

 

Niki’s face softened, “Oh Wil. That sounds awful.” She paused, the entire coffee shop seeming to pause with her as if the whole world was on the edge of its seat, watching the conversation play out. “But… from what I’ve heard, Tommy’s strong and determined to get what he wants. Even if Technoblade wasn’t involved, he would have gotten into this anyway. As you said, Tommy has a knack for getting into danger. But that doesn’t change that he can take care of himself – and if he can’t Techno will do it for him.”

 

Wilbur nodded slightly, that did make sense after all. If Techno liked Tommy enough to keep him around then he surely would protect him. Wilbur knew how asocial Techno was, so getting him to spend time with you was a great feat.

 

Still, he watched Niki intently, looking for signs that she could be lying but found nothing. What he couldn’t see were Niki’s thoughts – wondering if this was the task the Goddess had given her.

 

Then, as if on cue, Niki’s face went paper while as she read a new message on her phone. She stood up abruptly as Wilbur watched – partially perplexed, partially terrified.

 

“We have to go.” She snapped – it wasn’t usually like her to be so blunt, which immediately set Wilbur’s nerves off even more than they already were.

 

“What?!” Wilbur instinctually stood up a second after Niki, “What happened?!”

 

She threw her bag over her shoulder and threw her head around to look at him, “I got a message from Puffy. She needs our help – Dream has Technoblade.”

 

Wilbur gaped at her, not believing that he heard her correctly, “Dream has what?!”

 

Niki strode out of the shop, Wilbur swiftly jogging to try and keep up with her rapid pace, “Before you ask, I don’t know all the details. All Puffy said is that someone came to the elders asking for help because apparently Dream kidnapped Technoblade. She knows I’m here and said she’d give me a job when I’m needed. I suggest you come as well since you knew Techno.”

 

Before he knew it, Wilbur was through the emergency entrance to the sanctuary which was, thankfully, just down the street and marching alongside Niki to the Elder’s room, panic brewing behind his eyes.

 

Techno had been with Tommy. Was Tommy okay? What if he’d also been taken? Or worse, what if he’d been-

 

No. Wilbur couldn’t think about that now. Now he just had to keep moving forward. If they had also taken his brother, he’d do anything to get him back.

 

“Niki Nihachu,” Puffy said – fuck, Wilbur hadn’t even known they were already there, “I’m glad you arrived so swiftly. And…” she looked pointedly at Wilbur with one eyebrow raised. Puffy was the only Elder in there, Wilbur noticed. He supposed that Eret and Skeppy were busy elsewhere – so much was going on at the moment that the elders were required to help.

 

Wilbur cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh- Wilbur Craft.” Yeah, he definitely didn’t use proper etiquette there. He was too used to spending time with his dad and Technoblade who had no respect for authority whatsoever.

 

Puffy’s other eyebrow raised, “It’s been a long time, Wilbur. I understand why you’re here though, so you may stay.”

 

Wilbur nodded – it was better to stay silent than embarrass himself further.

 

Puffy looked between the two, “As you know, Technoblade has reportedly been kidnapped by Dream Taken.” A pained look came on her face at even the mention of her son’s name, “We don’t have any proof but two different people have come forward about it and we have no reason to disbelieve them, so I think we’re better off safe than sorry.”

 

Wilbur couldn’t take it anymore, “Who- who told you?”

 

Puffy gave him a knowing and gentle look. Wilbur would have been less scared if she didn’t know what he was talking about, “Don’t worry, your brother’s safe.” Relief flooded Wilbur’s body, forcing most of the tension out of his muscles, leading to him nearly collapsing. “Dream likely wasn’t targeting him, but even if he was then he’s shockingly tough.”

 

Wilbur realised for the first time that his hands were shaking – the panic before had prevented him from realising it.

 

Puffy exhaled with more force that was necessary, “On the downside, that does mean that he’s insisting to go with you on the rescue mission for Techno. I asked him not to, but stubbornness always has been a common trait in the Craft family.” Wilbur felt a bubble of pride growing in his chest, despite the fear that he’d be probably directly invading Dream’s base, “Speaking of which, he and his father are just outside – they’ve both agreed to join you.”

 

Niki had begun grinning – Wilbur knew how she was longing for an opportunity like this for years, “Cool. When do we go?”

 

Puffy smiled slightly at her, “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic. You leave as soon as possible. While Technoblade can handle himself, I’d rather get him back as soon as possible.”

 

 

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Techno scowled at Dream with as much expression as possible.

 

Dream simply gave him a twisted smile back, which Techno found to be arguably more annoying than of he got angry.

 

The sedative had worn off about an hour ago so now Techno was subjugated to watching Dream pace around. The boredom was getting too much – Techno couldn’t even move due to the binding spell Dream had put on him and he was severely under stimulated. Normally even when he wasn’t doing anything he could at least move around.

 

This wasn’t his first time being kidnapped so he knew for a fact that he preferred torture to sitting in a chair doing nothing.

 

He felt his focus slipping and tried to ground himself to reality, but with so little to focus on in the room it was nearly impossible not to slip into dissociation. Still, he did his best to focus on the environment, finding potential exits and mapping the blank room. It wasn’t much, but it was better than losing focus and missing a potentially vital moment.

 

The last time he did that it almost cost him his life; he swore then to never make that mistake again, but his promise was getting harder to uphold by the minute.

 

He didn’t know how long he sat there for, doing anything to keep him in reality which mostly involved watching Dream pace around the room and trying not to panic that Tommy may have been killed.

 

He promised himself when he met the kid that he wouldn’t get attached to him, but that promise was also very quickly broken. Look, it wasn’t his fault, okay? Tommy was loud and obnoxious, sure, but he was also funny and much stronger than he gave himself credit for. Plus, it had been years since Techno had made a new friend – especially one who genuinely seemed to like him and didn’t just want the power that came from being associated with him.

 

He had grown to love care for Tommy far quicker than he knew was possible. The boy was a breath of fresh air from his old, stagnant life.

 

Finally, the door of the room opened, crashing open with a loud noise.

 

Techno watched as the familiar person in the white hoodie marched into the room, covered in dust and a mask on the bottom half of his face not hiding his familiar furious expression.

 

“Punz,” Dream spoke for the first time, stopping his pacing.

 

Ah. So that was the man’s name. Good to know.

 

“Did you kill the boy? Or were you defeated by a human child again?”

 

Punz’s silence said more than any explanation could have.

 

Dream laughed harshly, unmatched anger fuelling the noise, “Don’t tell me you’re so useless that you couldn’t fight a boy? At least tell me that you’ve injured him or gotten the key.”

 

Punz hung his head – the direct opposite to the thankfulness that Techno felt. At least Tommy was somewhat okay, and Dream couldn’t get the key. At least not just yet.

 

“I- I’m sorry, Dream. Some teleporter came in and took him away before I could get him.”

 

Techno watched Dream step towards Punz, knowing the expression that was under his mask. Seeing Punz’s expression he knew that Punz also understood.

 

“Tell me Punz,” Dream hissed, voice deathly quiet, “Can you not also teleport?”

 

Punz seemed to be frozen as Dream approached, “I- I didn’t know where they were.”

 

“So,” Dream snarled, hand resting on the polished handle of his sword, “You can’t even kill a child and then you have the nerve to come back here as if you are my equal?”

 

Punz stumbled back as Dream leaned into his face, the panic evident in his hunched posture and shallow breathing.

 

Dream didn’t even bother to laugh this time, drawing the netherite sword from his belt and narrowing his eyes as he stepped forwards, watching as Punz stumbled to the ground. Techno felt a small amount of pity in his chest that he had to force down, reminding himself of the number of times that Punz had tried to kill Tommy.

 

Punz watched with wide eyes as the sword that was now poised above his head descended rapidly, raising his hands in a pathetic attempt to defend himself from the sword as it plunged deep into his chest.

 

Dream was quick to remove the blade and pull his mask up, watching through eyes as expressionless as those on his mask as blood pooled quickly from the wound, gurgling up into his mouth, choking him. Punz stared up at Dream as he spluttered on the blood filling his lungs and pouring from his chest.

 

He coughed, choking on the blood that bubbled up his throat and preventing him from breathing. His eyes rolled up in his head, the blank white visible somehow still revealing his terror.

 

It was somewhat painful to watch, the helplessness evident in the wound that was still leaking blood onto the floor - even as the life dripped out of Punz's body.

 

He coughed one last time, more blood spilling over his stained crimson lips and fell backwards onto the floor, dead.

 

Techno felt oddly cold as he watched the life fade from Punz. That was unusual for him. He had killed so many that he thought he was desensitized to death – he was used to watching countless bodies fall, cries smothered by a pool of blood spitting from their mouths. But this felt… worse for some reason. Maybe it was how personal the murder was. Maybe how it was Dream’s ruthlessness. Maybe it was that he was forced to watch, powerless to do anything, but knowing that even if he could save the man he wouldn’t. Punz deserved it for trying to kill Tommy. But even then… did he really have a choice to attack Tommy? Techno knew that working with Dream was very much kill or be killed.

 

He let his gaze linger on the corpse for a moment, though was swiftly pulled away from it by Dream approaching him.

 

He knew how easily Dream could kill him now but couldn’t bring himself to fear. He knew that if Dream wanted to kill him then he would have done so by now.

 

No. Dream wanted something else.

 

He wanted information and would do anything to get it – even if Techno didn’t have it.

 

“So.” Dream was standing directly in front of him now, his mask pulled back down over his face and the blood of his old friend splattering his clothed. Techno did his best not to scoff at how badly his outfit clashed with his armour. “Now that that’s been dealt with, I believe we have some business to look into, wouldn't you agree?”

 

Techno rolled his eyes, “If I knew where the key was I would have found it by now, trust me.”

 

God, Techno was getting sick of hearing Dream laugh.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t be so easy to break, Blood God.”

 

The name caught him off guard – it had been years since anyone had called him that old nickname. He’d lost it when he stopped fighting in every war the world threw at him.

 

Techno shrugged, “Okay. As long as you know that you won’t get anything from me considering that I don’t know anything.”

 

He could hear the cold smile as Dream spoke, “Well. We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

 

Dream raised a hand after putting his bloodied sword back into it’s holder.

 

Then, he clicked his fingers and Techno felt a scream torn out of his throat as an unimaginable pain racked his entire body, fire licking his veins.

 

 

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It turned out that the help Elder Puffy had promised Tommy and Ranboo for getting Techno back was really just Wilbur and Wilbur’s friend Niki.

 

Huh. Tommy didn’t know Wilbur had friends.

 

She seemed nice, though. She smiled at him when he saw her and laughed at his jokes. Her appearance made him wonder if having pink hair was an in thing with mages. It suited her, though.

 

Apparently, she was a well-known warrior in the magical world, having a reputation of winning every battle that only Technoblade could match. At least Tommy could see where Techno got his ego from now.

 

As Tommy looked around at three powerful witches, he couldn’t help but feel very out of place – he was the only person here who had no control over magic. Sure, he had done it once, but he didn’t know if he still could.

 

Despite his discomfort and Puffy’s discouragement for him to go with them, he refused to be perturbed in his decision; too worried for Techno to even consider doing anything else.

 

“So,” Ranboo asked no one in particular, “what’s the plan?”

 

Wilbur stood up even straighter as if pure confidence fuelled his movements, “We go in. We save Techno. We leave.”

 

Okay, maybe Tommy didn’t feel so out of place anymore.

 

He blinked at the rest of the group, all who seemed to be fuelling each other’s blind confidence, “Do we know where Techno even is?”

 

Wilbur nodded, “It’s pretty safe to say that he’s probably at his usual headquarters, so we go there?”

 

“And if he’s not?”

 

Niki shrugged, “We’re screwed.”

 

Tommy nodded understandingly – it was good to know that even if they had no plan they had enough tenacity to make up for it, “Ah. That’s good to know.”

 

Ranboo frowned slightly, “We should be fine. There’s only so many places Dream could be, and he’s too focused on getting information to bother killing Techno.”

 

That was a good thing, at least. Techno may be in danger, but the likelihood of him being dead was practically zero.

 

“Come on, Tommy!” Wilbur called. Tommy jumped, realising that the others were on their way out while he was stood thinking.

 

He scrambled to catch up with them, only panicking slightly as he sat in the back of Wilbur’s tiny car squished against Ranboo. He had asked earlier if Ranboo could just teleport them there, but apparently teleporting took too much of Ranboo’s energy for him to use it much so they had to resort to traditional travel.

 

Tommy barely even had time to panic as they set off.

 

The others were so sure that they’d get Techno back that he couldn’t really doubt them.

 

 

Notes:

Um... hello *awkward wave*

Yeah, sorry for ANOTHER late chapter - I've been busy trying (and failing) to do my schoolwork. Also sorry for the shorter chapter - for an explanation refer to my previous point.

Speaking of school, I'm going back soon and will have a lot less spare time - so I'm probably going to have to cut my updates to only once a week - I'm really sorry, I just won't have the time. I'll try to keep my updates consistent though, and write longer chapters.

With that said, have a great unspecified time of day and I hope to see you when I next update :D

Chapter 13: A Simply Marvellous Rescue

Notes:

BAGEL'S BACK BABY!!! :D
I had a huge motivation boost after my other WIP doing pretty well - I love this fic but it isn't very popular which can stop me being motivated to write it - so I decided to write some more of TCFM in between updates of that.

TWs: animal abuse, animal death, torture, kidnapping

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

All things considered; Tommy wasn’t nearly as scared as he thought he would be. He was still in the car and was fairly sure that even Wilbur didn’t really know the directions. Either way, Tommy was getting sick of seeing the twisting rural roads of outer L’manberg – they were pretty at first, sure, but they all looked the same and the speed at which Wilbur drove was making him feel nauseous again.

 

They had been driving for a few hours and Ranboo had fallen asleep with his head on Tommy’s shoulder, squishing Tommy up against the car door. A piece of the door was digging painfully into his ribs and it was safe to say that he was pretty goddamn uncomfortable.

 

He had just begun to start dozing off himself when they pulled up in a random car park in the middle of a forest that looked suspiciously familiar to that behind the Craft Manor.

 

“Where the fuck are we?” He called to Wilbur as he shook Ranboo awake.

 

“Dream’s base. Or we will be soon.”

 

Tommy stared at him, ignoring Ranboo’s dazed blinking and got out of the car. “Dude, are you feeling okay? The whole being-overly-vague thing seems to be contagious.”

 

Wilbur laughed again, “Sorry. You forget I grew up with Technoblade as a role model. But the whole deal with Dream’s base is that if you walk around this forest looking for it, you’ll find it eventually. It doesn’t really have a set place.

 

Tommy didn’t bother responding – out of everything he’d experienced recently that seemed to be the most believable thing he had been told. Instead, he followed Wilbur and Niki to the forest, focusing on the crunching noise the stones made beneath his feet.

 

Ranboo walked beside them, matching their paces together as the two trailed behind the adults in the green shade of the leafy canopy above them.

 

They walked for hours – Tommy asked Wilbur about the amount of time it would take to get there but, of course, was met with a vague ‘I don’t know’. If it wasn’t for the tranquillity of walking through the woods and listening to the chirping of birds around them, he probably would have punched his brother in the face.

 

The group was oddly quiet – Wilbur and Niki occasionally muttered conversation to each other while the others walked in silence. Tommy’s feet were aching and spine felt as if it was about to tear itself from his body when Wilbur cried out, “Ah, here we are!”

 

Tommy blinked at him, an impassive expression on his face, “Uh, are you feeling okay Big Man? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but there’s literally nothing there.”

 

“Ah,” Wilbur’s cocky grin seemed to choose that moment to make its grand entrance again, “that’s what you think. Come and stand here,” he gestured to a space beside him.

 

Tommy debated choosing to stay where he was but found that curiosity got the better of him. Rolling his eyes slightly, he wandered over to stand next to Wilbur, though immediatley took a step back when he saw what Wilbur pointed at.

 

It was a huge building that occupied a place that previously only had trees and rocks in it. It resembled a hospital with blank white walls, and the sparse windows all had blinds drawn over them. A set of large doors facing them seemed to be far more foreboding than welcoming.

 

“Has… has this always been here?”

 

Wilbur grinned again, “Nope!”

 

“…Right. Wonderful.”

 

“Not to interrupt or anything, but I seriously think that we need a plan now.” Niki interrupted, her eyes trained on the building with a kind of determination and concentration that only someone truly immersed in their work could hold. She was grinning, though and repeatedly shaking her hands out in a similar way that Tommy sometimes did when he was particularly happy.

 

“That we do,” Wilbur nodded, “Ranboo, you can’t teleport anymore today, can you?”

 

Ranboo shook his head, “I’ll probably pass out if I do.”

 

“I can!” Tommy joked.

 

“Shut up Tommy.” Wilbur’s tone was still oddly bright despite the circumstances.

 

Niki stood up straighter, still with a roguish look of determination, “Ranboo and I can be a distraction. There probably aren’t too many guards since Dream doesn’t need them but we should still watch out. We don’t know what could be in there.”

 

Wil nodded, “Okay, how are we going to do that?”

 

“We can go through the main entrance. You see if you can find an entrance elsewhere. Remember, we’re not trying to fight anyone. Just try and get in and out as quickly as possible. Find Techno and leave.”

 

Wilbur nodded gravely, then looked at Tommy, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Tommy didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes. Absolutely.”

 

Wilbur didn’t seem to trust the answer, but he nodded regardless, “Alright. Come on then.”

 

Tommy jumped, realising that Wilbur was wandering away and that he was most likely expected to follow. He did so, jogging to catch up and then walking beside his brother in silence.

 

The back of the building was just as sparse as the front with the same plain walls.

 

Wilbur nudged him quietly and pointed at a slightly open window, “Hey, there’s an entrance,” he muttered, “stick with me unless I say otherwise, okay?”

 

Tommy nodded after a moment, realising that he must be gaining confidence since he was barely panicking. Either that or he just wasn’t processing anxiety.

 

Silently, Wilbur pushed open the window that was already slightly ajar and stepped through, struggling to get into the building. After getting stuck a few times and cursing under his breath a lot, he was in the building. Tommy followed with ease, being smaller and more flexible than Wilbur. Wilbur wasted no time in glaring at him and Tommy stuck his tongue out in response.

 

Wilbur rolled his eyes and beckoned Tommy to follow. It was probably bad that Tommy was having to stop himself from laughing aloud, thinking about how they must look like the people from old silent films.

 

The room they entered was fairly large but bare, holding only beds that lined the walls with sheets the same vacant white as the walls, floor and ceiling.

 

Wilbur led them to the door, walking down one corridor,

 

Do you know where we’re meant to be going?” Tommy hissed at him as they stepped in time, footsteps muffled by the cautious nature of their gaits.

 

Wilbur shook his head in a no but continued walking with silent confidence.

 

Internally sighing, Tommy followed him, listening out for anything that could be even slightly suspicious as they kept walking in a straight line.

 

Then, “Shhh,” Wilbur hissed.

 

What? I didn’t say-” A glare from Wilbur cut him off and they stopped walking. Wilbur seemed to be listening intently to something, but Tommy couldn’t guess what it was.

 

Wilbur started walking suddenly again, with Tommy still not very far behind him. They turned down a corner and then Tommy heard it.

 

Someone was coughing a lot and in a manner that sounded painful. Then –

 

Footsteps.

 

Tommy didn’t have enough time to move before Wilbur grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and yanked him into a room, shutting the door behind them shutting his eyes like he was trying to keep the world away from them.

 

Tommy didn’t dare even trying to ask what was happening, the panic finally beginning to set in.

 

The footsteps got louder until they were right outside the room that they were lurking in.

 

Tommy clamped a hand to his mouth, trying to placate his frantic breathing as the footsteps stopped. He watched, as if from a distance, he and Wilbur wait stuck in place for the person to pass them.

 

Eventually, after both eternities and mere seconds, the person started walking again – away from their hiding spot.

 

Slowly, the panic dissipated, and Tommy removed his hand, realising that it was trembling. He glanced at Wilbur and began taking in his environment; the room could not be any more different from all the ones they passed. Instead of being pure white and lit with fluorescent lights, it was dark and dingy.

 

Instead of the beds that lined the walls in the room that they entered through, cages were on the walls, stacked up like crates.

 

Most contained strange creatures: flat animals like manta rays that hovered in the cages; green blocky creatures; tall, humanoid creatures as black as night with purple eyes; floating white blobs with eyes like candlelight and so, so many more.

 

All the creatures were in an awful state - with hair falling out, an eye or two ripped from their skull, gashes crossing their flesh that bled black or with limbs missing. They all looked underfed and restless, though as if they had accepted their reality years ago and now wallowed in hopelessness.

 

The most terrifying animal was the rotting piglike humanoid. One next to Tommy grunted at him and when he looked into its eyes all he could see was Techno. The tusks and scarlet irises were so like his mentors that he couldn’t bare to keep his eyes on the broken animal.

 

The smell of rotten flesh invaded Tommy’s nose as, looking around, he saw that every other cage would hold the decomposing body of a creature. Tommy had never seen anything like any of the animals, but his heart felt like it was about to burst.

He had always felt a stronger connection with animals than he had humans and the decrepit state that these were in was far beyond terrifying. Plus there were hundreds of them.

 

Different eyes of the animals lay upon Tommy; a once deep indigo now light purple, red that looked like a fire slowly burning itself out, sky blue dulled grey and gold that had lost its shine. The animals all looked at Tommy; some with curiosity, some with anger, but all with infinite amounts of pain.

 

Tommy’s heart felt like it was going to burn out of his chest.

 

“Tommy,” Wilbur’s voice was oddly far away as he stared around the cages, each one greeting him with a new horror.

 

Tommy,” he sounded louder now, more insistent, but Tommy couldn’t move, “We need to go.”

 

Did he not understand? Did he not care about what he was a witness to? Tommy vaguely felt his bottom lip shaking and- were those tears?

 

“Come on, Tommy.” Wilbur snapped and there was an odd pressure on Tommy’s arm. He felt himself being pulled somewhere and he didn’t think he had the energy to resist.

 

“But-” Tommy muttered through the daze, “but the animals.”

 

“I know, Tommy and I’m sorry, but we can’t help them.”

 

That seemed to shake the fuzziness from Tommy’s mind, and he turned to Wilbur with a glare, “What do you mean we can’t help them? We have to! We can’t leave them here!

 

Wilbur’s eyes slipped shut again – how could he look away from them? How could he see this and pretend it was okay? Tommy felt as if he was going to be sick again.

 

“I know, but we don’t have anything to help them right now. We will later, but right now we need to find Techno, yeah?” Wilbur raised one hand that had a phone in it. Tommy barely noticed him taking a photo.

 

Techno. Tommy remembered something about having to help him, about Techno being in trouble.

 

Right now, though, nothing mattered more than the cages in the stone room.

 

“Come on, Toms. We’re gonna go find Techno, yeah?” A hand was placed on Tommy’s upper back, trying to guide him out of the room.

 

Then Tommy snapped, “No,” he hissed, trying to tear his arm from Wilbur’s grip.

 

“Oh god, please don’t yell-” Wilbur whispered, looking around anxiously.

 

“I’m not leaving them! I can’t leave them! Why don’t you care?!”

 

A sharp sound filled the air and a strange stinging appeared in his hand.

 

Wilbur’s face came more into focus, an aghast expression on it, “Tommy, I swear I do care and we will help them, but right now we literally can’t. Once we get Techno back, we can agree on something. I promise.”

 

That- that sounded reasonable, actually.

 

The wave of anger seemed to be retreating as quickly as it had washed in and he was beginning to remember why they were there in the first place.

 

And Wilbur was right, wasn’t he. They couldn’t take the animals back. It wasn’t possible, no matter how much he wanted it to be so.

 

Wilbur seemed to be calmer already and Tommy started to see a strange mark on his face-

 

Shit.

 

He’d slapped Wilbur.

 

He clapped his hand over his face, realising what he’d done.

 

“Fuck, Wil, I’m so sorry-” he gasped.

 

Wilbur shook his head, “It’s okay. But right now we need to get Techno back, yeah?”

 

He nodded his head, the smell and confinement of the crowded room finally getting too much. He didn’t think he could hate himself for anything more than letting Techno get kidnapped but the remorse over leaving this wretched place quickly overtook it.

 

And, finally, he allowed his brother to drag him from the room that he knew would haunt him forever.

 

The cold air of the corridor was both a breath of relief and a source of panic for Tommy, letting him finally breathe in something other that decaying corpses and old animals waste but also coming with the realisation that the animals subjected to living in the cages could not do the same.

 

Even as Wilbur guided him quietly up the corridor to the room at the end, he could not shake the images from his head.

 

Wilbur’s hand was also shaking as he went to open the only other door down that area. Tommy watched him open the door.

 

Even before the door was fully open, a broken and gravelly voice called from within, “Back to torture me again so soon?”

 

Techno.

 

God, Tommy had missed Technoblade.

 

But if that was true, why could he hardly bare the thought of seeing him again?

 

He didn’t have time to think of that, though, because Wilbur pushed the door open and Techno spoke again,

 

Oh.”

 

Techno was in awful state.

 

His hair, usually so perfectly braided, hung loosely around his shoulders cut choppily short and fresh cuts littered his already marred flesh. He looked exhausted, to put it simply. Like a thousand stars had been born and died in the time it had taken them to get there, his shoulders hanging down and eyes bearing scars worse than the physical ones he had.

 

“Hello. You got here far sooner than I expected you to.”

 

Wilbur nodded, though Tommy couldn’t see his face, “The elders only fucked about for half a day, surprisingly.”

 

“A record,” Techno replied dryly as Wilbur walked over to the chair he was tied to.

 

Tommy watched silently from beside the door as Wilbur cursed under his breath upon examining the chains.

 

“Enchanted,” Techno supplied, gaining a scornful look.

 

“No shit, Sherlock. I can see that.”

 

Wilbur reached into one of his pockets, grabbing a notebook and pen.

 

“You need a breaking charm.”

 

Wilbur glared again, “I know that, thank you, Technoblade.”

 

Techno shrugged, “Don’t get mad at me for assuming you’re stupid when you’ve given me no reason not to.”

 

“Nice to know that even torture can’t stop you being obnoxious.”

 

“I prefer to think of it as my unique flair.”

 

Wilbur placed the piece of paper he had been drawing on onto the chains and touched it with one hand.

 

The chains began glowing light blue – all Tommy could think when he saw them was of the eyes of the animals in the room up the corridor.

 

“Hey, Tommy, by the way.” Techno said to him, nodding slightly.

 

Tommy tried to smile back, though it probably didn’t look recognisable. He didn’t bother attempting speech.

 

“Nice to see you.” Tommy nodded again. Techno raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response that he wouldn’t get.

 

“I’ll tell you what happened when we’re out of here.” The chains stopped glowing and slipped off, allowing Techno to stand up and stretch back. His bones made a horrible crunching sound as he stretched his back. Wilbur passed him a small dagger that he accepted immediately.

 

“Alright.” Techno walked straight over to Tommy as soon as he could stand and hovered awkwardly in front of him, “Uh. Well, hi then. Again.”

 

Tommy felt the corners of his mouth lifting again at how uncomfortable the man looked – though he supposed it shouldn’t be funny since Techno was clearly in pain. Thankfully he already felt too guilty about everything else to really care much about that.

 

“Do you know when Dream will be back?” Wilbur muttered, glancing at the door once Techno looked ready to leave.

 

Techno shrugged, “Not sure. He said he was going to investigate something but didn’t say what.”

 

“Ah,” Wilbur said, scratching the back of his neck, “yes. That was probably us. Ranboo and Niki are creating a distraction as we speak.”

 

Techno’s eyes shot up, “Niki? You mean Niki Nihachu, right?”

 

“Uh huh. She agreed to help us.”

 

“Ah. She's a good fighter. Come on. We should probably leave as soon as possible.”

 

For the second time, someone placed their hand on Tommy’s upper back and guided him out of the room. That was probably for the best since he likely wouldn’t have realised that they were moving and stayed there for about half an hour. Techno walked with him out of the door and guided him down the corridor.

 

“Do you know the way out?”

 

Wilbur went slack jawed after hearing that, “Ah. Yes, I may have forgotten about that bit.”

 

“Wonderful. I suppose we’re guessing.”

 

“It’s worked thus far.”

 

Then, just as they turned the corner, they saw him.

 

Tommy had seen Dream before but that didn’t make his sight any less chilling. He tipped his head to one side as the group froze watching him silently. The mask still covered his face entirely, white porcelain obscuring him.

 

“Gone so soon, Technoblade? And I see you have the child with you again. You’re going to get him killed, you know. Humans are so… delicate.” His voice was smooth and sardonic.

 

Techno’s hold tightened on Tommy’s arm and a low growl issued from his throat. Wait, since when did Techno growl?

 

Dream laughed coldly, “I thought you were more human than piglin by now. I suppose I was mistaken.”

 

He held Tommy even tighter at that, pushing Tommy behind him and growling even more. Tommy poked his head around the side, scowling at being kept away from seeing what was happening.

 

“You really do care about that boy, don’t you? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

 

Dream started walking towards them, sword in one hand. Techno held the dagger that Wilbur had given him in his own.

 

“Techno,” Wilbur’s tone was warning as Techno moved into a defensive stance, “it’s not worth fighting him. We should go.”

 

Techno blinked at him, seeming to be drawn out of a trance.

 

But by then it was too late.

 

Dream attacked, throwing his sword out at Techno so quickly that Tommy barely saw it. In a flash, Techno was advancing, blocking Dream and reposting with an attack of his own.

 

The two moved impossibly fast, hitting and blocking and counterattacking in a blur. One moment Dream seemed to be winning, the next Techno had countered him and returned at hit that would have been fatal to everyone else.

 

You haven’t seen me fight, Techno had told him.

 

 For the first time, Tommy fully understood that statement. If this was Techno fighting while seriously injured, he couldn’t imagine how good he would be while completely healthy.

 

“Come on,” Wilbur snapped, pulling Tommy from his reverie staring at the battle. Wilbur was turning to run down the corridor. Glancing at the fight one last time, Tommy thought that it would be better to follow Wilbur.

 

 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 

 

Niki was trying to fight about five guards at once, sword batting between them in a frantic flash. She couldn’t help but notice that she was lacking some of the usual precision she usually fought with after not fighting much for years but it was all worth this; it was exhilarating.

 

Ranboo was leaning against the wall, trying to stop blood escaping his head from where he had been injured. Niki only spared him the odd glance when she could, but from what she saw he was barely conscious, so her main aim currently was to keep the guards away from him.

 

She hadn’t fought enough in so long and now, the familiar movements, the harsh breath, the sweat dripping down her sword were all so familiar but so different from anything she had done recently and the adrenaline coursing through her veins was everything.

 

The guards didn’t look human; they were all wearing matching white uniforms with masks that covered their faces that were similar to Dream’s but lacking the smile. They fought and bled the same though – she learned that after fighting about twenty of them. She didn’t kill unless she had to – she never understood people who said they did – but sometimes it was inevitable.

 

She plunged her sword into the chest of one guard and swiftly turned to block another’s attack. The entire time she couldn’t shake the bright grin off her face.

 

She had just returned a hit to another guard and – crap, she didn’t think she could block that in time-

 

The guard about to hit her, though, suddenly collapsed, falling to the ground to reveal Wilbur standing beside them, his face pale and with a small – now blood soaked – dagger in one hand.

 

“Thanks,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath before hitting the last guard in the head with the hilt of her sword. “Did you find Techno?” she noticed Tommy standing behind him, looking terrified and shaking all over.

 

“Yeah,” Wilbur was clearly struggling to speak through his heavy breathing, “but Dream found us. He started fighting Techno. Techno can take him but he’s weak now; come on, you’re the best fighter here, we need you to help.”

 

Niki nodded and was quick to follow Wilbur when he ran off to show her the way, leaving Tommy and Ranboo behind. That was for the best, Ranboo was injured and Tommy looked even more traumatised than he had been before.

 

They turned a corner, and there Dream was.

 

Niki had seen him before but every time she did it felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. It was rumoured that he had a power that could strike fear into the heart of anyone and, after seeing him, Niki didn’t hesitate to believe it.

 

Techno’s exhaustion from torture was clearly catching up to him as he was backing up against the wall, breathing heavily and blocking as if every movement took great effort. Anyone would be able to see that the next move could be his last moment.

 

She didn’t have time to panic, though, as she threw herself into the fight without time for even a thought about self-preservation.

 

Dream whipped around as she attacked him, turning away from Techno to block a strike to his neck. Niki was good, but she had underestimated Dream’s ability.

 

He was much faster and stronger than she was, but she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She pushed back, shaking with the effort of keeping his sword away until the pressure released and another hit lurched forwards.

 

She knew she couldn’t win this, but she might be able to keep him away for long enough for them to escape. She had invested all of her magic in physical strength and it was time to see if it really paid off.

 

She was defensive, blocking attack after attack knowing that every stumble, every slip could be the last mistake she ever made. She kept going, though, the adrenaline pushing the thoughts out of her mind. She dodged another attack, not able to return one of her own before another was thrown at her, slipping slightly and the blade getting worryingly close to her neck.

 

Techno seemed to be recovering by this point and tried to join in again, launching an attack from behind to distract Dream for long enough so that Niki could regain her footing. Dream laughed slightly,

 

“Two against three and you still can’t beat me? What happened to the acclaimed strength of the Blood God?”

 

Techno grunted, sweat dripping down his head as he tried to parry another hit; Niki kind of felt bad for him, she knew how difficult fighting with a dagger could be, let alone while completely exhausted.  She stepped in again, pushing Dream back and allowing Techno another breather.

 

Niki had finally launched an attack of her own, but then Dream flashed and vanished, reappearing behind her and leaving a group of purple stars where he used to be.

 

Niki cursed loudly and only just managed to turn and block – how the fuck had he managed that?

 

She didn’t think that Dream had any ender blood, but apparently he could teleport anyway; she wondered how he could do that.

 

Another crazed laugh fell from Dream’s lips, and he cried triumphantly,

 

“It worked! It actually worked!”

 

Niki didn’t have time to ponder what that meant before he was attacking again, and she had to block. Somehow this attack felt even stronger than it had before, when Niki held against it, she found herself straining with the effort and barely able to keep on her feet. She began wondering how it was possible for Dream to be even stronger than he already was. Techno also seemed to be stunned, watching the two battles from the wall he was clinging onto with a stunned expression.

 

Laughing again, Dream backed up suddenly, leaving Niki shaking and holding her sword like it was her lifeline.

 

Equally as suddenly, he turned and ran away, putting his sword back in his scabbard with Niki too tired to even try and follow. She and Techno stared at where they had been until,

 

“What the fuck was that?” Techno croaked, his voice barely working and seemingly shaking even more than she was, a mixture of blood and sweat dripping down his face.

 

Niki shook her head, confusion wrapping around her brain.

 

Why did Dream just leave? How could he teleport? How did he seem to be even stronger and faster than was humanly possible?

 

“I have no clue.” Oh, right. She had forgotten that Wilbur was still standing behind them, “but it doesn’t look good.”

Notes:

YO! UPDATE POG! THIS CHAPTER TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG TO WRITE!!!! I’VE ALREADY SPENT 5 HOURS ON THIS SOMEHOW SO I’M NOT GONNA PROOFREAD IT AGAIN!!! IF THERE’S ANY SPAG MISTAKES FEEL FREE TO TELL ME!!!

Not Sam, Phil, and Techno battling to be Tommy's father figure lmao

I was gonna make this a double update but I have 6 pieces of artwork due in two days, so I should probably do those instead because each takes me 3-5 hours and I haven't even started- (dear lord, why did I take art???? we get so much work to do help). Long story short, the next time I update will be the next time I’m willing to stay up all night to write.

Don't forget to take care of yourself and have a great day! :D