Chapter Text
Techno wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been playing. He was vaguely aware of how hard he’d been hyperfocusing, only aware of the screen in front of his eyes and the keys under his fingertips, but he had no idea that it was morning until the sound of another person joining the server met his ears.
“Good morning Technoblade” “Hallo” Wilbur sounds upbeat, a far cry from how dead he’d sounded before he went to bed. “I’m over losing Manburg.” That seems unlikely, but it is good to hear his friend not sounding very very sad. “I’m gonna be happy while revolting” “That’s the best type of revolt.” Wilbur snickers in agreement.
He’s a little excited to show Wilbur the farm; he’s been working very hard on it and it’s actually gotten very big considering how few potatoes he had to start with. The sound of the cows just reaches his ears and he grimaces and turns down the volume again because fuck those cows. Books were good, cows were annoying as fuck.
He realizes, a moment after his mouth closes, that he probably should’ve lied, but eh, Wilbur can just look at Discord and see it if he really wanted to. “I haven’t logged off.” Wilbur pauses and the sound of his brain working is almost audible before he speaks up again and tries to act like he’s not concerned.
It gets very hard to not sound concerned as Techno continues to sound beyond exhausted. “Techno, how long have you been awake?” Techno sounds about ready to pass out as he takes several long moments to respond. “I…don’t...remember the last time I slept.”
They both get distracted for a bit with Tubbo and the...not-going-to-be-mentioned incident with the arrows and Tubbo, but by the ninety-minute mark of his stream Techno is sounding about as tired as Wilbur has ever heard him and he’s still bloody farming which is a little concerning; how good is Techno at working through tiredness? He doesn’t super want to ask.
It was pretty clear that Techno was tired when he literally ran into the middle of the enemy town and started trying to shoot someone very far up on a flag. It wasn’t wildly successful but at least he didn’t literally die, so...success? He managed to avoid Tommy murdering everyone and made a note to talk to him later because he sounded very pissed before turning his attention to the 72nd issue of the day.
“Technoblade?” “Wilbur” “My stream is off now” “I heard.” Wilbur leans back in his chair, massaging his temples. “Dude, go to bed before I sick Phil and Tommy on you.” Techno gives a dry laugh. “Weren’t you just havin’ a conversation that was centered on your sleep schedule bein’ shit?” “Yes, but I do sleep.”
Techno gave a non-committal hum and continued to plant new potatoes. “...Technoblade, go to bed or I am going to sick Philza on you.” he gives a dry snicker, leaning back in his chair suddenly aware of how uncomfortable he was. “If it was that easy to fall asleep, Wilbur, you’d do it more.”
Wilbur didn’t really have a way to disagree with that but he tags Phil to join and a moment later his voice filters in. “Hey there boys, what’s up?” “Techno has been on the SMP for 16 hours and he won’t go the fuck to sleep.” Techno mutters something under his breath as Phil immediately switches to what they all call his concerned parent voice. “Tech? Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Can’t.” He grunts, slowly shifting so his head is leaning back and he’s staring up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers against his leg. There’s a nervous energy pinching under his skin, leaving him shaky and nervous as he switches discord to his phone and stands up to move around the room, legs groaning in protest at the sudden movement.
“Tech, you need sleep.” he groans, leaning against the wall glaring down at his phone like it’s the machine’s fault. “Don’t make me come over there and lecture you on taking care of yourself, pig man.” He gives a dry laugh, leaning his forehead against the wall and biting down several comments that weren’t sarcastic enough for him.
Phil’s voice softens slightly, and Techno’s glaring increases in exhausted ferocity even though Phil can’t see it. “Techno. What’s wrong man? What do you need?” He sighs, leaning against the wall with a low groan as his head gives another stab and he shifts on his heels despite the stab of pain it brings to his very sore legs.
“Techno?” Phil’s voice spikes a little in concern. “Tech, can you let me know that you’re alive over there please?” He gives a tired groan but reaches for the phone he’d left on the bed. “M’ brain won’ shut off” he hums, stretching out his legs as best he can while still standing. He feels almost fragile, arms wrapped tightly around himself in a careful facsimile of a hug.
“Can we do anything?” Phil questions aloud, Wilbur apparently deciding that Phil was more qualified for this which...yeah. Techno sighs, slowly stumbling back to his chair. “I...I don’t...I’m sorry” He leans his forehead against his desk with a groan, brain foggy. There’s silence for a moment before Phil speaks up again, voice comfortingly firm. “Ok, Tech?”
“Mmmhm?” He was vaguely aware of Tommy’s voice piping up and a “SHH” from Wilbur that grated on his exposed nerves but Phil was still speaking so he tried to focus before realizing he’d missed everything the man had said and silently cursing his stupid fucking brain. “Tech? You get that?” He must’ve made a sound because Phil speaks up again.
“Ok, I want you to stand up ok?” He instinctively gathers his legs under himself and struggles back to his feet, hands shaking a little and picking the phone up with one hand. “Go get some water, ok?” He nods, stepping slowly into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water, quickly realizing how hungry he was and downing two and a half of them.
“I’m gonna assume you haven’t eaten?” That doesn’t wildly seem like something that needs an answer and by the time he’s hauled his brain through sludge enough to make the words make sense, Phil seems to have guessed that that meant no. “What’s your favorite food, Tech?” “Uhhhh” he blinks, taking a moment to try and sort through his thoughts but it feels like he’s swimming in jelly and he gives a quiet noise of relief when Tommy gives a much quieter than usual “oh! I know this!”
Phil seems vaguely surprised; it’s not that Tommy wasn’t someone who cared about what they liked; it was more that his memory of such things rivaled Techno’s in how horrifically awful it was. “You were telling me last month that it was pasta with olive oil and parmesan from that restaurant on your street!” “Uh huh, ordering, thanks kid” Wilbur speaks up and Techno blinks, taking what feels like several minutes to give a “uhh sorry, what?”
“Your food should be there in like five minutes. I put contactless delivery so no socializing. Positive of the pandemic.” “...you ordered me food?” “Yup!” “...why?” “Because I’m pretty sure if you cook you’re gonna burn the apartment down at this point man.” He doesn’t disagree though and ten minutes later there’s a knock and when he finally hauls himself over to the door he finds food.
Phil is still rambling in the background about...something. Hardcore maybe? Tommy chimes in, eagerly, so probably MCC not hardcore unless Tommy had developed a new hobby in the last two days. He finished wolfing down the pasta, more than a little weary as the exhaustion of...he still wasn’t sure how many days up.
“Techno?” He hauls his eyes back to the phone and gives a groan. “Mmm?” “Just making sure you were alive over there man. Is there anything else we can do?” He shrugs which isn’t wildly helpful when he’s not on video chat but Phil blessedly seems to get what he was going for. “Tech, lay down kid.” He gives a shaky nod, wandering his way over to his bed, curling up around the stupid stuffed creeper that Tommy had sent him as a gift for...Christmas? Or his Birthday? Stream anniversary? Something important.
“You asleep?” “No” Phil gave a concerned chucklee and he could just about imagine him leaning back in his chair. Wilbur and Tommy had fallen silent until Tommy blurted out “Willlllbur sing a lullaby.” They all fell silent for a minute, before Wilbur gave a little laugh. “Sure, I can get my guitar, and I’m not even in the bath this time.” Phil and Tommy are both quiet and Wilbur is reminded that he maybe hadn’t told them that story...time to redirect the focus to Techno because this was about to turn into lecturing him.
Techno curled up a little, unable to find a still position that felt reasonable in any way. Wilbur had gone silent for a moment and while he’d thought it was just a desperation to not answer Phil’s “I’m sorry, why the fuck did you have your guitar in the bath?” but a moment later the familiar sound of Wilbur’s guitar fills the chat and Phil and Tommy both fall quiet.
He’s playing something soft, and Techno doesn’t have to focus on the words to know that Wilbur is actually playing something close to a damn lullaby. He doesn’t really have it in him to actually ask why the fuck Wilbur knows a lullaby, so he just kinda goes with it, burying his head in his pillow with a content sigh. He lets the music soothe the tenser edges of his brain, shifting a little to get more of his body touching his rough blanket in an effort to actually be able to lay still.
Despite it all he didn’t think he’d actually manage to sleep; he’s used to spending hours laying in bed unable to sleep. But the ridiculous fucking creeper plush is soft and Wilbur really is a good singer and Phil is telling Tommy off for...something in the background and it feels safe.
He wakes up seventeen hours later. He props himself up against the wall, flexing his wrists and hands out before glancing down at his phone and giving an amused snort when he sees the voice chat hadn’t ended; he could hear Wilbur singing to himself as he set up his setup. “Mornin’ man.” Wilbur quiets and Techno can almost hear him blushing and he gives a sharp snicker. “Good morning Technoblade!”
“Are you about to stream?” “Yeah! I’ve got to take our country back. Or, more likely, kill cows for two hours.” Techno snickers, standing and heading for his setup. “Alright I’ll be on in twenty, cow killing is something I can get behind.” He switches his audio back to his computer and settles down in his chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
“...Wilbur?” “Yeah Techno?” “Thanks.” “No problem man, anytime. But if you let yourself get in that state again I think Phil is going to go over to your place and force you to sleep.” They both snicker at the prospect as Wilbur starts his stream and Techno heads over to the cow farm to do some more cow murder.