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It took a lot longer than Phil thought for Techno to come home. Nearly three months after that world-shattering phone call Phil was finally allowed to see his baby boy.
Nothing could prepare Phil for the sight he saw walking into that hospital room. His little boy lay on an uncomfortable hospital bed, blankets pulled up to his shoulder. Techno lay on his side, eyes drilled into the wall, not even noticing Phil’s arrival.
The hospital staff gave him a list of warnings, one of which was touching him. In a desperate attempt to draw Techno out of his head, Phil tried talking to him, telling him stories of what Tommy and Wilbur have been up to since they last talked. He didn’t even blink out of his state.
Phil must have sat there for two hours, the last half of it being spent in silence. The only interruption was nurses checking in, and frankly, that's who Phil thought opened the door behind him. That was until a tall looming figure stepped up alongside Phil’s chair. This was no doctor or nurse, the military fatigues were a clear sign.
Phil probably should have stood, and shown his respect to this man, but an irrational anger sapped all of Phil’s energy. “Mr Watson?” The elder glanced over at the soldier, a man probably only a few years Techno’s senior. His hat sat tucked under his arm, a properly trained soldier it seemed.
It had been years since Phil’s service. A time he never regretted, but never wished to go back to. Even in his retired state, Phil found himself saluting higher-position officers during official events or meetings. “I’m your son's lieutenant.”
Ah, Techno’s commanding officer. A painful part of Phil’s soul screamed that he was only here out of pity and obligation. It's probably what any sergeant’s lieutenant would do when they were honorably discharged due to an injury sustained in an active battle zone. The much more logical side acknowledged the tears clinging to the man’s lashes. “I'm also the man your son saved when he sustained his injury.”
Phil couldn’t get himself to feel any one specific emotion. He was angry, in rage and fury wishing the man beside him had died instead of Techno being sent back beaten and broke. But Phil couldn’t believe that he didn’t wish the man had died instead, that very thought made a deep part of Phil sick.
It didn’t take long for the man to figure out Phil wasn’t up to having a conversation. He left with a comment about his condolences and that he left his phone number with the charge nurse. Visiting hours ended at 5 p.m., Phil stayed as long as he could before a nurse came and told him he could come back tomorrow.
Phil was thankful either way, he still had a son at home that needed feeding, and another son to give an update to. The only thing Phil could prepare for dinner was boxed mac and cheese, Tommy took it without complaint, his eyes sad as he probably put things together. He left for school earlier in the day with Phil being antsy to go to the hospital, only for Tommy to come home to an empty house. an hour and a half later he was handed mediocre tasting food as silent tears clung to his father’s lashes.
Even if Phil’s text to Wilbur had been carefully worded, hiding Phil’s emotion, Tommy’s phone call left little to the imagination. The boy’s caller ID was enough for Wilbur to grab his already packed bag, his frantic words making everything just a little more urgent.
Phil’s muffled sobs could be heard as soon as Wilbur unlocked the front door. Phil hadn’t even made it out of the kitchen before breaking down. His strong and brave father, a ma Wilbur had always looked up to, sat in a ball against the kitchen cupboard, sobbing into his knees.
Not even two days later Wilbur’s childhood bedroom was dusted and rearranged. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from his family at such a time, his own emotions almost driving Wilbur back into bad habits he had broken years ago.
— — — — — — —
Techno’s hospital discharge came through a week and a half after being transferred the the local hospital. Phil’s small sedan pulled up to the hospital’s entrance to allow a nurse to wheel the boy out. Phil helped where he could, taking the wheelchair from the nurse to fold up and put it in the trunk, allowing Techno to get situated without Phil lingering nearby.
“Are you hungry? We can stop and get food if you would like.”
“I wanna go home.”
“Alright, home it is then.” The drive was spent in silence, his once lively boy sitting stock still, his gaze locked in front of him. Even as they pulled into the driveway, Phil swiftly retrieved the wheelchair from the back, Techno remained silent. Tears of either pain or embarrassment filled his eyes as Phil helped move Techno out of the car.
Thankfully Tommy was at school when they arrived home. The house was quiet besides the sound of Wilbur rustling around in the kitchen. “Would you like to see Wilbur before you go lay down? He–”
“No.”
Phil took the stern tone as enough, no need to push the situation. Instead, Phil wheeled Techno into his childhood room, mostly untouched from the last time Techno was living in it. Phil once again helped transfer Techno from the chair to his bed, ignoring the pang of agony as Techno laid down, pulling the blankets up to his chin before rolling over, ignoring Phil’s presence as if they were back in that hospital room.
Phil quietly excused himself, exiting Techno’s bedroom to see Wilbur standing just outside the kitchen, tears in his eyes and Phil gently shook his head.
This was hardly the first time Techo locked himself away in his room. The only time he would leave his dark bedroom would be to use the bathroom or shower. Both of which he understandably rejected any kind of help with. Any other time the man could be found in his room, lying under his covers just staring at the wall, his back to the door.
It was common knowledge that only Phil was allowed in, most of the time Phil spent in there delivering meals, begging Techno to eat said meals, and then taking the last meal’s plate to be washed. The barely-touched food concerns Phil more and more by the day.
Tomy understandably was upset. He had yet to even see his brother who lived in the same house as him for a week at this point. Techno would exclusively shower when Tommy was at school or in the early hours of the morning when everyone was asleep. Bathroom breaks were equally well planned. Wilbur himself had only seen moments of his twin, his form rolling into or out of the bathroom or his bedroom. Wilbur tried to gain entry to his brother’s room, but each time Techno would forbid him permission to enter.
The boy sunk so far into his depressive state so quickly that sometime in week two Techno gave up on the long process of bathing. The food Phil brought in was getting eaten less and less.
At the end of week two Phil was driving Techno back to the hospital. A routine check-up and the first session of physical therapy. A few different things happened, but all of it was forgotten and overshadowed by Techno sitting on the floor of the physical therapy room, sobbing as he screamed about how he wished he had died.
One of the nurses had to steer Phil out of the room as he too started crying heavily, his baby boy hurting so bad, and yet Phil couldn’t stop it. This was not a scraped knee healed by Phil’s “magic kisses” or a cut finger with a bandaid. This was so far outside Phil’s league he didn’t know what to do.
The car ride home was silent, tears and self-hatred staining Techno’s face. The slamming of Techno’s door resigned both him and Phil back into the unhealthy routine they had adopted. Phil wanted to scream at Techno, yell and profess his love to his baby, and comfort him as he cried, but Phil would never cross Techno’s boundaries. Phil was the only life raft keeping Techno afloat.
Wilbur, who has been trying to pick up the slack around the house was already prepared for their return. Two plates of food sat on the counter, the brunette taking the initiative to hug Phil upon his entry to the room. “Didn’t go well?”
“No.”
“Sit down and eat dad, ill see if he will eat.”
Phil couldn’t help himself as he sat on the barstool. What had he done to deserve this? What had Techno done to deserve this?
Wilbur picked up one of the plates, pushing the other into Phil’s grasp. Techno’s room was empty behind the wooden door when Wilbur approached it. Not necessarily abnormal, Wilbur had sat outside this very door for hours since Techno’s return, praying to a god he didn’t believe in to help his brother.
“Hey Tech, it's me, I have some food if you want it.”
Silence.
“I need verbal confirmation if you down want it, otherwise I will come in.”
Silence.
“I'm coming in.” The door creaked ominously, the bedroom dark as the curtains were drawn. The only source of light is an old lamp on the bedside table. The mirror that was hung up on the wall when they were teens was now covered by a blanket. The figure of his brother was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room. “Tech?”
His twin’s shoulders could be seen shaking, Techno always was a silent crier. It wasn’t until Wilbur set the plate on the dresser beside the old one that Techno glanced up. His sniffling was audible now that his head wasn’t pressed into his arms. If anything the sight of Wilbur seemed to make him cry harder, the normally strong and stoic man left sobbing in the corner. The sight hurt some part of Wilbur’s soul, the same part that held Techno in such a high and bright light.
“G-go away.” The man’s voice was rough, probably from the tears.”
“I can’t Tech, you know that.”
“I said, go away!”
“You’re not going to scare me away Tech. You can’t push me away, I won't allow it.”
Perhaps it was frustration, or maybe it was the realization that Wilbur was almost exactly like himself that left Techno curling up again. The two were two sides of the same coin, so different in everything yet still the same coin, twins, stuck together from birth to death. “I fucking hate you! I hate you!”
The words stung but Wilbur knew Techno didn’t mean them, he was trying to get Wilbur to hate him. And, it wasn’t going to happen. Instead, Wilbur inched closer, kneeling before his brother, his brother whom he hadn’t seen in years. His brother was only returned to him as soon as the military could no longer use him.
Techno tried beating his way out as Wilbur pulled him against his chest. While the hits against his shoulders and chest hurt, they wouldn’t do any real damage. His broken wails, however, would haunt Wilbur’s nightmares.
Once Techno’s cries had calmed, it took very little convincing to allow Wilbur to help Techno back into bed. The two hobble across the room to the best of their abilities. As they got closer to the bed the lamp's dim light slowly illuminated them. With Techno lying in bed, propped up by pillows, Wilbur retrieved the plate off the dresser.
Unlike Phil, Wilbur wouldn’t beg for Techno to eat. This was unnegotiable. “I made you a chicken and turkey sandwich.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“The fuck you aren’t. You have eaten barely anything since you got home, you will be eating at least half that sandwich and half of either the carrots or the crisps.”
They sat staring at each other long enough for Wilbur to contemplate the ethics of force-feeding the man. Luckily Techno lifted the sandwich to his mouth, hand shaking as if the food terrified him. Instead of sitting in silence, allowing Techno’s brain to run wild, Wilbur tried to fill the room with meaningless talk. Each time he would approach a topic that upset Techno his eating would slow, and Wilbur would carefully try to steer the conversation away until Techno once again started eating.
Techno looked rather surprised when he reached for another carrot only to find his plate empty. The look on Wilbur’s face was no doubtable one of pride. The first full meal Techno had eaten in who knows how long. Hesitantly Techno handed the plate back to Wilbur.
“I’m proud of you Tech.” The man turned his head away, probably trying to hide a blush that was already hidden by the dim light. “Now, would you like me to leave? Let you get some rest?”
“Not really.”
“Alright, you wanna watch a movie together?” Wilbur leaned back to put the plate back onto the dresser. “We could go sit in the living room, and see if Phil wants to join. Tommy should be back from school in an hour as well.” It almost gave Wilbur whiplash at how quickly Techno went from receptive to closed off. At the mere mention of their baby brother Techno had shut himself down. It wasn’t even the prospect of leaving his room, and spending time with Phil, no, it was Tommy.
“Can we just stay in here for today?”
“Of course, perhaps we can sit out there tomorrow.”
Just like they did when they were teens Wilbur sat on the left side of the bed, both of them curled under the blankets as they watched a show on one of their phones. It was obvious Techno was a tad uncomfortable with the closeness, laying as far away from Wilbur as he could, flinching if they brushed against each other. It hurt somewhere deep in Wilbur’s soul, but this was progress from sitting in his room alone, refusing entry.
Sometime later, the sound of Tommy getting home echoed through the house. The boy is practically unable to be quiet, despite his best attempts. Techno tensed from where he lay, no longer watching Wilbur’s phone, his eyes locked onto the door until the sound of Tommy going upstairs reached them.
There were so many answers bouncing around Wilbur’s skull, begging to be asked but logically it was not the time. They lay there, show after show, the sound of Phil presumably cooking dinner and Tommy coming back down the stairs. Techno had dozed off at some point, his brow scrunched up even in his sleep.
Wilbur couldn’t help but stare at his brother’s face. The dim light did not allow much observation, but there were some very clear differences. Before Techno joined the military he prided himself on his long hair, dyed pink in solidarity with Niki. Now it was buzzed short, a little uneven, and patchy due to the hospital staff doing it instead of a barber. The frown clinging to the corner of his lips wasn’t abnormal, the intensity of it was, however.
When Phil gently knocked, pushing the door open with his foot, two plates in hand it allowed a deeper analysis of his brother’s face. He was well aware of the injuries Techno had sustained, earning him his involuntary departure, but seeing some of them was a visceral experience.
The scar that cut through his eyebrow, so very close to his eye, was still pink and inflamed as it dug through his cheekbone. Another ran diagonally across Techno’s lips, starting just beside his left nostril before ending tucked under his chin. Wilbur had to force himself to look away from the still red and irritated flesh peaking up from Techno’s shirt collar, the wounds still irritated enough to be delicate. “You got him to eat.”
Wilbur could only shrug, turning off the show, and allowing the room to sink into silence again. Techno turned over in his sleep, brow scrunching further as his breath caught in his throat. Before either Phil or Wilbur could do anything Techno’s eyes flew open, taking in his surroundings with paranoid eyes.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Techno to ask both Wilbur and Phil to leave, promising he would eat some if they just got out. For the first time in the entire time Wilbur had been back home Tommy, Phil, and he sat around the dining table to eat. The conversation was pretty light all things considered, all laughing as Tommy dramatically told the story of his day at school.
Phil, still snickering, sent Tommy and Wilbur away, telling them he would do the dishes tonight. Together Wilbur and Tommy retreated to Wilbur’s room, Tommy retrieving his homework swiftly on the way there.
Together they sat, working on their projects in each other’s presence. Tommy occasionally asked Wilbur questions about his homework, hoping the elder remembered how to do it.
It didn’t take long for Tommy to finish, or at least claim he finished as soon as he got bored. The blond quickly evaded Wilbur’s personal space as they devolved into conversation, occasionally breaking out in fits of giggles.
“Do you think Techno hates me?” Wilbur couldn't stop himself from quickly looking over, struggling to figure out how Tommy got that conclusion. “I just mean, he let you go see him today but he avoids me like the plague.”
Wilbur’s silence must have been interpreted as an answer due to Tommy’s sudden withdrawal from touch. The sudden look of complete despair rips Wilbur back into reality. “Tommy, I don’t think he hates you.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
“I’m not. Look at me,” Wilbur stared until Tommy finally looked over, “You’ve known Techno your entire life. When has he ever done something to make you think he hates you?” Wilbur didn’t even give Tommy enough time to try to warp a situation to support his beliefs. “Techno loves you. You are his baby brother. From the time he first met you, he has loved you.
“When he was allowed to hold you for the first time he refused to let you go, even if it was my turn. That first day he fell asleep holding you because he wouldn’t let you go. Or when he got in a fistfight with your bully in second grade, little 5th or 6th grade Techno.” Wilbur giggled to himself at the memory. “Phil had to drag him out of the office after he got in a screaming match with their parents.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Never seen him so pissed off, came home fuming.”
Tommy sunk back into Wilbur’s side, allowing the stories to fill the air. Tale after tale of Techno standing up for his baby brother or sacrificing things out of love. Some of them Tommy remembered, others he didn’t. Stories of when Tommy was brought to the pool the first time, when Techno clung to Phil’s leg and Tommy’s hand refusing to trust Phil with Tommy’s life. Nights where Phil would have to sit with Techno for hours dismissing anxiety after anxiety about Tommy or Wilbur’s safety.
It went on and on, endless moments of pure love.
“Why won't he let me see him? I want to help him feel better.”
“I don’t know for sure, I suppose I could guess if you would like.” Tommy fiddled with the hem of Wilbur’s shirt, allowing Wilbur to pull him against his chest. His nod was so small it was almost missed by Wilbur. “I think he is afraid you won’t see him as your big and bad big brother anymore. He’s struggling with his injuries, he lost a lot, not just his employment.”
“I don’t care if he is injured, he is still my brother, Wilbur.”
“I know bud, he just needs some time I think.”
As soon as Tommy dozed off Wilbur snuck out of the room, his little brother not being enough to stop Wilbur from his nightly routine of patrolling the house. The brunette would find himself sitting outside of Phil’s room, listening for his quiet snoring. It wouldn’t be the first time Wilbur took it upon himself to enter Phil’s room when instead of snoring the man was sobbing.
The next room would be Tommy’s, although with him currently in his room Wilbur passed it by without a second thought.
The last one, the one he would spend several minutes to hours sitting outside of was Techno’s. Something about hearing the quiet breathing or shifting of blankets made the fact his brother was alive and home more real for Wilbur.
And just like any other night, Wilbur would wait for the tale-tale whimpers to escape the room. It was no secret to Wilbur that Techo had almost nightly nightmares. Each time Wilbur heard his brother's discomfort he would creep in, sitting beside the bed as he quietly sang. Most nights it would stop the thrashing almost immediately. Others he wasn’t so lucky.
Either way, Wilbur wasn’t sure if Techno knew of his nightly escapades. Frankly, it didn’t matter as Techno whined and sobbed in his sleep, the pain and agony he was probably reliving enough to expedite Wilbur’s self-soothing ramblings.
It took roughly 15 minutes for Techno to relax, his eyebrows still scrunched and his eyes dashing under his eyelids.
Usually, that was when Wilbur would exit the room, and find comfort in his bed as he tried to think of the noises his brother made. Tonight, however, when Wilbur stopped the gentle song Techno immediately started whimpering again, his muscles tensing. He was still in the nightmare, Wilbur’s previous tactic not working.
Biting the bullet Wilbur gently rested a hand on Techno’s shoulder, continuing to hum as he did.
It was almost immediate. As soon as Wilbur’s hand touched Techno his eyes flew open, one hand gripping Wilbur's wrist tightly while the other swung wildly, connecting with Wilbur’s nose. Together the two tumbled to the ground, Techno grunting in pain as he collided with the hardwood flooring. Other than that Techno tried to right himself, trying to kneel up and defend himself, forgetting that he was now missing the bottom half of his right leg. Once again Techno tumbled to the ground with a shout.
Wilbur tried to soothe him, finding it hard to do around the bloody and possibly broken nose his brother had gifted him. It wasn’t until Phil barged into the room that Techno reacted again. With the flick of the light switch, everything was bathed in a warm yellow glow.
The sudden light also allowed Wilbur to see the full extent of Techno’s injuries for the first time. The burns danced up the side of his neck and below his shirt, much more irritated than Wilbur thought from the dimly lit version he had seen earlier.
Phil seemed to catch on to what was happening far faster than Wilbur gave him credit for. As a veteran, himself Phil probably had experienced the pure panic before, and like a child Wilbur cowered behind his father, hoping Phil could fix his mistakes.
The sight of Techno’s dilated eyes and far-off glare was not particularly a good sign. The sheen of sweat on his forehead and the rapid breathing caused Phil’s own heart to plummet before catching up with itself rapidly.
“Techno, you with me bud?”
No response.
“Sargeant, sitrep?”
It seemed to take a moment before Techno’s mind kicked in, taking the familiar tone and mannerisms with ease. “Injured sir, IED explosion roughly two clicks southeast. The lieutenant is alive but unresponsive, unknown hostiles.”
Wilbur tried to piece together the words and phrases while Phil seemed to fall into them as if it was second nature. It probably was second nature after yelling at recruits for nearly a decade. The only clear thing Wilbur could piece together was that Techno thought he was back on the he got injured. And Phil was trying his best to play into that while still drawing Techno out of it.
“I should be approaching your position.” Phil must have been trying to avoid getting socked in the face like Wilbur was, mistaken for a hostile. Techno’s brow scrunched in confusion, trying to make sense of the almost immediate response. This seemed to not be the way the scenario went, but Techno’s adrenaline-high brain cast that aside easily enough.
Phil carefully sunk to his knees beside Techno, instructing him to lean back against the nearby wall. At some point, the sound of Tommy’s feet approaching sent Wilbur moving in hopes of intervening.
“I need you to think about this hard sargeant.” Phil hadn’t pulled this tone of voice out in years, the familiarity of it unsettling in the most comforting way. “Where are you injured?”
“I can’t feel my leg, sir.” Phil couldn’t tell if this was a current feeling or a past feeling. The added illusions make everything harder to figure out.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Negative.” Techno quickly glanced around, searching for something. “I don't think the privates survived sir, I think I got them killed.” Techno’s breathing increased again, tears clinging to his lashes as he confessed to who he presumed was a comrade.
“It wasn’t your fault Sargeant.” Phil gently pulled Techno’s pant leg up, the stump that used to be right above his knee looking red and irritated. No blood seemed like a good sign though, the white bandages appearing to remain stark white.
“Any other injuries bud?”
“My back, I don’t wanna die sir.”
“You’re not going to die” Phil tugged Techno’s shirt up and over his head, leaving his abdomen bare.
The burns were gruesome, part of it still raw. Techno’s shoulder and back seemed to have had multiple spots scabs had been ripped off, and blood bubbling up enough to bead in the skin but very little fell.
“If I die-”
“You’re not dying”
“But if I do, tell my family I love them.”
Phil debated pulling Techno into his chest, giving up the charade they had going. Ultimately the paternal urge to comfort his baby won, even as Techno stiffened at first, Phil held him against his chest.
They sat on the bedroom floor for a while, Phil’s knees protesting by the time they parted. To Techno’s credit, he seemed quite a bit more lucid than he previously was. His eyes were still cloudy with confusion but at least he didn’t seem to be completely stuck in the past.
Wilbur was quick to return when Phil hollered for him, the sudden approach leaving Techno tensing up again. Although whether it be recognition or exhaustion Techno seemed to give up, relaxing back into Phil. “Can you grab his wheelchair for me bud?”
The blood under Wilbur’s nose had stopped flowing, most of it wiped off, leaving flecks of blood at the base of his nostril. Together, the two lifted Techno into his wheelchair before Phil wheeled Techno out into the living room. Once again, the pair helped transfer a pretty lethargic Techno onto the couch. Tommy has already disappeared to get blankets and pillows per Wilbur's request.
The blond stumbled as he entered the room, his eyes wide as he caught sight of Techno. The man was still shirtless with his sweat still bunched above the amputated stump of a leg. To his credit it only took maybe 20 seconds for Tommy to snap out of his surprise, approaching slowly with the bundle of blankets.
Phil and he gently wrapped the blankets around Techno’s shivering form, the brunette’s eyes dazed while moving languidly in post-flashback confusion and panic attack exhaustion.
It didn’t take long for Tommy to help himself to the extra space on the couch. The blond allowed a healthy bit of distance between him and Techno, a feat for the boy who tended to all but sit on the person’s lap he sat next to. He always tended to be a bit of a tactile person.
Phil sat in a nearby armchair, taking watch just like he would when any of them had nightmares as children. If they didn’t want to sleep in Phil’s bed with him they ended up on the couch, guard dog Phil cuddling with them or sitting nearby. Wilbur himself understood what Phil had been feeling all those years ago, not wanting to leave Techno to wake up alone.
So just like Tommy, Wilbur laid himself down on the floor, a spare blanket bunched up under his head as he lay on his stomach. The early morning hour left Tommy and Wilbur falling asleep quickly.
Techno seemed to still be stuck in his head a bit, his eyes locked in the distance as his brain processed or drifted from the stress of earlier. Tommy had slouched into Techno’s side unconsciously a while ago, Phil keeping a careful eye out for a negative reaction.
It was only when Phil stood, two mugs of hot cocoa in mind, that Techno seemed to even acknowledge anyone's existence. It was when Phil passed by the front of the couch that a hand tentatively grabbed at the hem of Phil’s shirt. At first, Phil thought it was a half-awake Tommy, but when he turned to investigate it was Techno’s hand and arm. “Don’t leave me, please.”
“I was going to get us some hot cocoa, would you like some?”
“No, please don’t leave me dad.”
“Alright,” Phil retreated to his original spot on his armchair. “How are you feeling buddy?” Techno’s eyes followed every one of Phil’s movements, fear clinging to him as if he didn’t trust Phil wasn’t going to make a mad dash for the door.
“Tired.”
“Why don’t you go to sleep then?”
Techno seemed to roll the question around in his mind, not quite having the energy to come up with an adequate lie to tell Phil. “Scared.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Do you think Tommy hates me, Dad?” Tears clung to Techno’s lashes, a slightly odd sight for Techno, who had prided himself on some sick sense of strength from repressing his emotions. Some part of Phil found it funny that Techno thought this even as Tommy was burrowing his head into Techno’s side.
Phil shook his head, hoping Techno was aware enough to notice the movement. “I don’t think he is capable of hating you, mate. He is a little upset with you.”
“I don’t want him to hate me,” Techno’s voice hitched as he tried to stop the sob that clung to the back of his throat. “I don’t want him to see me like this, he probably hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“Yeah, he does, why wouldn’t he?”
Phil had an entire list of reasons why Tommy wouldn’t hate him. A whole childhood of reasons on Tomy’s part. Techno had always been his big brother, the pinnacle of perfection, an idol in all things.
Before Phil could say his piece however Tommy’s hand flopped against Techno’s face in the sloppiest and most ineffective slap that has ever happened. Even Techno, who was in a mental breakdown was startled out of it, a confused glance being the only thing showing on his face.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up I will steal your other leg and hang it on my wall like a trophy.” Tommy rolled over, letting his head fall to Techno’s thigh as he got himself comfortable again. “I don’t hate you, we can have an emotional conversation when I wake up. But, if I wake up to Phil’s stupid ass voice and the moon is still visible I will start stabbing shit.”
From there it didn’t take long for all of Phil’s boys to all fall asleep. Despite the fact sleep called Phil, he couldn’t help as he fought the call, staying awake for as long as he could keeping watch over his little family.
It didn’t matter if Techno wasn’t the same boy Phil swaddled as a child, years and war changed something so deeply in him that it might as well have changed Techno’s DNA.
But he was still loved.
He was still family.