Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tommy groaned miserably. Because that's what he was: The most miserable avian on the whole fucking planet.

But nobody seemed ready to acknowledge that, so he whined even louder and kicked ‘accidentally’ into Techno’s shoulder. But instead of a well-deserved inquiry about Tommy’s well-being, all he got was a deadpan look.

Tommy narrowed his eyes on the piglin. “Prick.”

“Look, if you're unhappy with my presence, I can go.”

“Nooooooo~o!!” He tossed himself around in the bed in an attempt to sit up straight. “Don’t go. Just be less of a fucking bore.”

“Eh.” 

Technoblade returned back to his book.

“Eeeey!” But once again, Tommy was ignored. Stupid, shitty, definitely-not-brother. Tommy had no idea why he tolerated that dickhead.

Tommy turned once again until he laid on his back. A dull arch simmered between his shoulder blades. It felt like a hematoma. And only if something pressed against it.

Seriously, it was nothing. 

Tommy didn’t understand why everybody fussed about the wing hatching. 

Well, then again, Most people were not as a big man as Tommy.

But Tommy WOULD die of boredom if Dad would actually force him to stay in bed the whole time. While sighing once again very audibly, Tommy rolled on his stomach. His life was so miserable. With pointed fingers, he picked on a loose strand in one of the many patchwork blankets beneath him. Nesting, Phil had called this meltdown when the old man suddenly had to bombard Tommy’s bedroom with every soft object that was available to them.

“When is Phil—”

“How would I know?” The answer was so even and quick. It was infuriating!

“You doing a shitty job at keeping me company!”

“Bruhh… My job is, and I quote, ‘prevent Tommy from exploding himself or something while I run the errands’. “

“Well, I’m a second again from exploding from sheer boredom!”

“Read one of your books then. I know you are behind with your book report anyway.”

“Nooooooo! That’s a shit advice! And dad is our teacher. He won’t make me do homework while I’m this pitiful and sickly!”

Technoblade rolled his eyes, but at least he closed his book. Fucking finally.

“I really don’t get how you could convince Phil that you are in—” Technoblade waved indecisively through the air. “wing labour, or whatever. You are just as insufferable as always.”

Tommy gasped. “I’m a DELIGHT.”

A scoff. A SCOFF!

Faster than Techno could blink, Tommy had smacked a pillow in the piglin’s face. The following squeal was the first satisfying thing in the whole - he looked at the wall clock - 34 endless minutes of his imprisonment. Techno jumped up. His eyes glinted in grim challenge and his floppy ears were wiggling in excitement. 

Ooooh! Shit shit shit! Deflect! Divert! 

Tommy jumped up, too. Accusingly, he pointed a finger towards Techno.
“How dare you, Technoblade! I’m in a very sensitive stage of my adolescent life! And you make fun of my pain. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Technoblade didn’t buy it. Tommy knew that. But sometimes, when Tommy quadrupled down, it became just too much of a hassle for Technoblade. And once again, Tommy was proven right when Techno’s snout wiggled in some nearly inaudible grumbling before he just sat back down… AND OPENS THAT FUCKING BOOK AGAIN!

NO! GOD DAMNIT.

“Teeechnooo! I’m soooooo boooooored!”

Tommy ended up suffering for cruel eight more minutes of tedious nothingness before Phil came back with bags full of stuff.

Perfect! As luck would have it, Tommy loved stuff.

He jumped up and ran to hug Phil. With no hesitation, Phil put his pitch black wings around Tommy and hummed at him.

“Oh no, chick, did you miss me that much?” Phil cooed. Behind Tommy he could hear Techno-prick scoff again, but he ignored him.

“Yeah, Techno had been so mean to me! The only thing that could undo the emotional damage would be many, many presents.”

“Subtle.” That darn heckler! Couldn’t Techno mind his own business for once?!

But fortunately, Phil just ran his hands through Tommy's hair and smiled down at him.

“Alright. Once you have recovered from your wing hatching, we are going to go on a shopping spree. Does that sound good?”

Yeah, it did. But…

“What is in the bags?”

Philza pulled his wings bag and held up the mentioned bags.

“All kinds of necessities you need for a wings hatching.”

Tommy was hopeful. “A shitload of drugs?” 

“God, no!” Phil pulled out the first item. “Calming tea—”

“Tea with effects are strictly spoken also drugs.” Techno peeped in. Tommy’s eyes lit up and he ripped the box out of Phil’s hands.

“Nice!”

“You two…” But the Phil bit back whatever he wanted to say in favour of presenting the next object. “A few sponges and bandages for later on.” He pulled the next things out. “Some ointments.”

“Potentially also classifies as drugs.” Techno told to Tommy’s delight.

“Painkillers.”

Techno barked out a loud laughter. “Oh, most definitely drugs!”

“Techno…. Stop inciting Tommy. He will need to rest at least the next two days.”

The fuck—?! 

“I don’t know about that, Dad.” Tommy didn’t want to lose his sick child privileges, so he was careful not to outright say, that he felt fine. “I’m pretty tough, after all.”

“Yes, you are, Tommy. But pushing the wings out of your back is a huge struggle for tough people too. Trust me.”

Tommy groaned. So far, this stupid wing-hatching had brought only promises for an undecided future. Nothing concrete of value yet. Maybe he should tell Phil that Tommy was wrong and he had only imagined his backpain. Then he could hide out in Uncle Grian’s house and meet there with his friends until Phil forgot to give Tommy the whole when-the-child-cried-wolf lecture again. But then he would also miss Mom’s return home in two days. Urgh. Fine. So he would let Philza fuss over him for two days. Maybe he could get Techno in a little trouble as a little side quest. 

“Phil, since you are back now, am I free of babysitting?”

That—- Tommy wished he had a pillow he could fling at that prick. (He considered throwing the tea but decided not to risk getting it confiscated by Dad.)

Phil picked up Tommy like a fucking child and carried him back to the bed-nest-whatever. Annoyed Tommy rolled out of Dad’s grip and disappeared under a blanket.

“Well, yes for now but please stay in the house. I might need your assistance until Kristen is back later on.”

“...I was suppose to go to my book club meeting today.”

Tommy huffed at that nerdy answer and peeked out of his blanket to humiliate Technoblade with all the scorn he could pack in one glare. But neither of them paid him attention. Horrible child neglect!

“I know, Techno, and I’m sorry. But Nicky and Ranboo can wait and this here can’t.”

Technoblade gave Tommy a look. A See-what-you-did-you-illness-faking-gremlin look. Danm, Technoblade’s glare was always so communicative…

Tommy swallowed and patted around for another pillow.

But then Technoblade’s eyes returned to Phil.

“Fine. I’m in my room.”

Yeah, that’s right! Run, nerd, run!

“Tommy?”

Phil laid down beside Tommy and ruffled his hair. Dad was so touchy right now. Well,, however, if Tommy was actually ill he always wanted to cuddle. Okay so stricly in favor of his act, Tommy nugged into the touch and let out a pitiful chirp. Dad smirked a bit. For a millisecond, Tommy thought Phil was onto him, but then his black wing covered Tommy’s form, and he cooed at him sweetly.

“My chick. So grown up already. Wings are hatching so soon…”

Uuuuuuuurgh. All that baby talk. These two days would feel like forever!
And he was right. That cuddling, that dim light under the protection of Philza’s wing, the molly warmth, the sound of their combined even breath. All of that boring stuff pulled the big man into a slumber.

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Little Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his mum leave the guest room. She closed the door softly before she turned to Tommy.

“Hm? What is it, sweetheart?”

Tommy balanced as he scratched his calve with one foot. Denying Mum any answer. He was angry. And Tommy couldn’t completely explain why. But he knew that Mum was somehow involved. Shooting her another glare, he fidged on his pyjama’s hem and waited for Mum to fix things again.

Mum hummed and stepped towards him. And just a second later, he was scooped up in a hug, and tickly kisses rained down on him.

Tommy giggled and wormed in her hold until the attacks finally ceased.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” she asked, her voice soft and warm.”Did you get scared alone in your room again? Do you want to sleep in Mum’s and Dad’s bed tonight?”

That… that was not what the problem was. But it was a nice idea anyway.

So Tommy nodded into Mum’s neck and hugged her tightly around the neck. As he was carried away, Tommy glanced back at the door his mum just had left. But it was still closed, which relieved him a bit.

Mum shifted him a bit in her arms to get the bedroom door open. The familiar smell soothed him immediately. And out of half-lidded eyes, he watched Mum stroke through the many fabrics - rugs, pillows, blankets - to the bed. Dad was already sitting there with a book in his lap. When Mum set Tommy down on the bed, Dad looked up and smiled the moment his eyes set on Tommy.

Dad cooed at him. Tommy chirped back immediately. Then Dad set his book aside and stretched an arm out for Tommy. With no hesitation, Tommy crawled across the mattress into his dad’s lap. 

His dad’s wigs wrapped around them. Tommy chirped again and poked at the black feathers that surrounded him. They shimmered prettily in the light of the bedroom's oil lamps.

“You’re staying with us tonight?” Dad whispered to him. Tommy nodded and tried to snuggle a little closer.
“Are you two ready to go to sleep? I’m putting out the lights now.” Dad pulled back his wings and revealed Mum into Tommy’s view. She had changed into her own pyjamas by now. The extra soft one that Tommy had helped to pick out was her mother's day present. Tommy’s heart made a happy jump. The excitement helped him over the temporary grief of getting picked out of Dad’s lap and tugged into bed beside him instead.

“Yeah. Ready.” Dad finally declared.

Then the room got drowned into darkness. Tommy held his breath. Listening into the void. His dad shifted a bit, tugging himself in. Mom’s sandals flick-flacked softly despite the cushioned floor. The mattress dipped and his mom scooched to his free side.

“You want a goodnight story?” Her soft voice barely reached his ears.

“no…” Tommy stretched his little fingers out until they bumped into something. Quickly, Mum grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.

“You want to talk?”

Now that everything was quiet. Tommy began to remember his bad feelings from before in the corridor.

“hm…”

“So, what can we chat about? Let me think of something.”

Tommy didn’t like the merry sound of that. He tugged at Mom’s hand.

“What is it, sweetheart? Is there something you want to talk about?”

Tommy swallowed. Gathering his courage.

“Why were you in there again?”

There was a pause. Tommy could hear his dad now also shifting. But it was still his mum who answered:

“In there? You mean in the guestroom with the piglin kid?”

“Yes!”

“He felt sick and needed help to put on new bed clothes. So I helped.”

“He gets sick too much! And he is creepy and quiet. He only stares with his creepy red eyes. And he had so many sleepovers here! Tubbo was never allowed this often. I don’t like him! When will the piglin’s parents come to get him?”

Dad spoke up now:

“Do you remember five weeks ago when we found the kid in the forest? His leg was so hurt that he walked funnily. And he was soooo thin and that makes him sick even now. Probably, his parents couldn’t take care of him for a long time already. And because it is so long ago it is hard to find out more about the kid’s parents, you know.”

Tommy felt his father’s finger brush through his hair as he thought about that.

“so,” Mum chimed in now. “Because he is nearly little as you–.” A devious hand tickled him all of a sudden and made him squeal in laughter. “---We have to take care of the kid instead of his parents for now.”

It took a while until peace returned but when it did, Tommy had an idea.

“I can teach him to talk, so he can tell you where his parents are!”

“Oh.” Dad didn’t seem as excited as Tommy about the idea. “ That is very sweet of you, chick. But we think he already understands… If you want to help, he probably will be happy just having company of another child for now. Can you do that for us?”

Tommy was sceptical. When the piglin actually could speak, he would have done so by now. However, if he wanted to teach the kid, he would need to spend time with him either way.

So meekly, he nodded.

“But he still is creepy.”

He felt his Mum kiss his eyebrow.

“Give it some time. He is a bit beside himself right now. Maybe you can become friends once he is a bit less sick. Hm?”

Tommy. was really sceptical.

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Tommy awoke with a groan out of his nostalgic dream. Something shook him on his shoulder, making the two spots on his back hurt.

“Techno! Gently!”

Phil’s warning tone made Tommy wake up quicker then the actual pain. A dumbfounded Technoblade stood above the father-son duo. 

“I was!”

“Well, then you need to be even more gentle, dickhead.” Tommy complained. Techno gave him one of these famous death glares. 

“What?! It DID really hurt.” Technoblade kept staring for a few more seconds. 

“Really?” The scepticism in the air was so dense it was almost touchable.

“Yeah. Really. Why would I lie about that?”

Simultaneously, Technoblade and Philza let out an exasperated sigh. Fuck them!

Tommy is about to give them a piece of his opinions. However, then he smells something exceptionally delicious that makes his stomach rumble violently. The pain that now resembles a dull poking like somebody pressing a solid object in between his ribs. It ached heavily but got pushed into the background in the face of his hunger.

As it turned out, the reason why Technoblade had disturbed them in their doze in the first place was because Technoblade had cooked up a little something for them all. 

Food sounded like a good plan. Tommy was about to sit up when an idea pop into his head. Quickly, he let out a very loud groan.

“Oh, I feel so weak… I think I have to eat in bed….”

To Tommy’s delight, Phil immediately cooed at him and promised to prepare a tablet.

However, Technoblade stood where he was. Staring.

Tommy - for absolutely no reason - felt like he messed up.

“I was really looking forward to the book club meeting today.” Technoblade stated as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. 

Tommy blinked at the sudden admission. And then he blushed at the implication of Technoblade saying at especially to him.

“Well, bitch, what I’m supposed to do? I’m sick! I’m fragile! And all you are is a dickhead to me!” Tommy spouted and despite his rightful anger, Tommy felt a bit bad the moment he saw Technoblade’s face darken.

“You just want the attention.”

“Fuck you!! Then go if you don’t want to be here! I don’t need you!”

Tommy himself didn’t understand why he was even getting so worked up about this minor thing. But he could see his words hit Techno. Good. Served him right just to go around and accuse Tommy of things. Even if those things were true, Tommy would never apologize!

“What is going on, boys? You’re being loud.”

Dad stood in the doorframe with steaming bowls of soup on the tablet in his hands.

Both remained silent. And that was the moment Tommy realized that something bad had happened. Because, normally, Techno and Tommy would never hesitate to throw each other under the bus.

Tommy could feel his pulse quicken. He looked at Techno, but the piglin looked through Tommy with glassy eyes. And— this stupid dream! Because now it was like a floodgate to this past time had opened and buried him under these memories. Techno when he first got here. An empty shell. It had taken days before he even moved unless mom or dad physically dragged him along and moved his body for him. He just…. existed. And Tommy wasn’t a stupid baby: He recognised how Technoblade - once he settled - was feverishly looking for ways to be useful. To prove that he deserved a spot here. No matter how mom and dad told him, he didn’t need to…

Shit. Tommy shouldn’t have said it.  Not ‘I don’t need you!’. It may be a throwaway comment for Tommy, but it wouldn’t ever be the same way for Techno. He really shouldn’t have said that. Even when Technoblade was being annoying. That was just something he shouldn’t say to his brother.

He should take it back. But Tommy also didn’t want Dad to know…

Tommy pressed his lips together and eyed Techno, who moved to pick at a loose tread on the hem of his shirt. Philza, meanwhile, had moved to the bed and settled the tray of dishes on the surface of the bed.

“Come on guys, what is up?” Philza probed once again as he handed each of them a bowl. The soup smelled good. Technoblade had been perfected pretty much every recipe Tommy could think of that entailed potatoes over the years.

Tommy peeked at the piglin. But Techno just stirred his soup wordlessly.

Tommy traced his fingers along the rim of the bowl.

“Tommy?” Phil persisted in his questioning. 

“Nothing. I just don’t feel hungry.” Tommy lied. But at the same time, it was not a complete lie. His intestines started to feel squeezy and actually sick. 

Phil frowned, worried.

“You need to eat for the painkiller to work properly, sweetheart.”

“I will eat later.” Tommy tried to convince his dad.

“I’m sorry, but that is non-negotiable. You need to eat and take the medicine before things get serious, Tommy.” And damn, he had really his serious face on. 

“But daaaaa~ad.”

“Don’t you dad me on this!”

“You so lame! The lamest dad in history!” Tommy huffed.

But Phil was not shaken one bit.

“Techno, tell Dad that he is being lame!” Tommy piped pitifully. But when he had hoped ganging up on Phil was enough to shake off the weirdness between them, he was disappointed.

“I finished eating. Can I go back to my room?”

Phil paused to scrutinize his older son. Then he looked between Tommy and Technoblade.
Slowly, he began to speak: “I know this might seem unfair right now, Techno, but I can’t have you two fighting at a time like this. When this here is done, I promise you to make it up to you, so please don’t be mad at Tommy for missing your book club meeting.”

Silence. Tommy shifted nervously in his spot.

Meekly, Tommy added: “I’m sorry for making you miss book club.” There. He apologized. That should make things right…?

But the soulless ‘okay’ that Technoblade whispered, barely audible, begged to differ.

Phil sighed, disappointed.

“You two… Alright. You can go to your room.”

When Technoblade jumped up, Phil stopped him shortly. Philza stood up and hugged Technoblade.

“I’m sorry, Technoblade. Thank you for your help. You know we love you, right?”

Tommy’s chest tightened. He felt like he should be there too. Saying nice things too. But he felt like Technoblade wouldn’t let him right now.

So instead of joining in, Tommy stared down at his soup.

He felt so sick. He would be able to swallow even one spoonful.

He peeked to his dad and brother. His dad had his back  turned to him. Techno’s gaze was vaguely in his direction but empty. So Tommy quickly took his bowl, emptied it in a lunchbox, that he had sneaked in to snack on candies while he was trapped in bed. But dad had found them and left him only with the empty box. Well, look how that turned out!

Quietly, he closed the lunchbox and hid it just in time before Dad returned to Tommy’s side and Techno left the room.

“Not hungry, huh?” Phil teased him affectionately when he gathered the empty dishes later.

Tommy flopped down and pulled one of the many blankets over himself.

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Tommy was seething. 

Dad was so mean! So so mean! He was… and Tommy’s heart fluttered satisfied as he remembers that fantastic word he just learn last week from an angry parent at the playground… He is such a bitch!

All that Dad ever want’s is doinging these stinky homeworks. Eventhough they are stupid. Tommy is sure that Dad only wanted Tommy for his ability to do homework. There was no way a parent that loved their child would be so stingy to them.

All Tommy had asked for was to skip homework… and school… for an undefined time, so he could handout with his friends more.

If Dad really loved Tommy, he would want Tommy do what makes him more happy. And surprise: Homework was not the thing that made Tommy more happy.

Tommy kicks this bedframe.

This all is so sucky. This all is… such a bitch.

“Bitch...” He growls quietly. Testing the word out loud. “Bitch.” He repeats now with more strength.

It is a good word. Tommy likes the hardness and the hissing. This is such a good word. He will use it as often as he can from now on. Especially since he is not supposed to.

Maybe he will even use it in front of Mum and tell her Dad said it was okay to say. Mum would be so angry at Dad. And even when Dad didn’t care if Tommy was angry with him, he would for sure care when Mum was angry with him. And then he would tell Uncle Grian also. Right, that sounded like justice.

Tommy kicks his desk now.

And that was a mistake: His carefully balanced books on the desk toppled over and fell down… straight on his feet.

Tommy screeched - angry? In pain? he couldn’t even tell.

“Bitch! Bitch book!!” He cursed loudly.

And it is so satisfying.

Tommy is angry. So, so angry. It is hard to think.

But all he could think about was how Dad would continue to make him read books or listen to Dad read them to him and make Tommy write and draw pictures about what he read… And everything was so unfair, and nobody ever listened to him.

Tears well up. And it’s embarrassing. Because he is big already. He is cool and knows many more curse words than anybody in his friend group. He should be the one deciding his life.

But here he is getting tossed around by stupid bitch Dad and stupid bitch books.

Tommy deserved better than that!

His eyes fell on the red backpack on the other side of the desk.

A big trekking backpack. Tommy’s backpack, which Uncle Grian gifted him last week, was when he came by to fetch Technoblade, who had come to help Uncle Grian sort his storage.

A new idea formed in Tommy’s head.

Tommy would run away.

Then Dad would realize what a bitch he was and beg Tommy for forgiveness and do as Tommy told.

Perfect.

With anger still heating up his body, Tommy gathered his stuff: Henry the plush cow, his favourite card game, his survival multi-tool-pocket knife (without knife), and his snuggle blankety.

He shouldered his bag and looked around his room one last time. He was ready to leave.

“What are you doing?”

Tommy jumped.

Technoblade stood in the doorframe tail swishing, Ears twitching in a way Tommy knew by know meant: curiosity. Perfect.

“I—” Tommy announced and pushed his chest out dramatically. “--am running away.”

Techno tilted his head questioningly. As if he was waiting for more. But Tommy didn’t know what. Also, his lack of response was really annoying.

They stood there and stared at each other. Both waiting for the other to continue.

Finally, Technoblade broke the silence.

“Away from what?”

“From home, duh.” Funny how Technoblade was the older kid, but Tommy still - even after a year - had to explain the piglin boy everything.

“But you will be back for dinner, right?” Technoblade’s ears have begun to flicker in shorter intervals now. Nervousness and worry. Immediately, Tommy’s mood improved.

Graciously, he corrects Techno.

“That’s not how running away works, stupid.”

“Okay… So when are you going to come back?”

Tommy thinks about that. That was actually a good question. “I guess when Dad stops being such a bitch.”

Tommy is a bit disappointed that Technoblade was not even gasping because of this brutal word. And even more disappointed when the piglin didn’t beg him to stay.

Techno just stays there frowning and useless.

“But how will you know when… ‘Philza stopped a bitch’?

Tommy pulled a face.

“Does Phil know?” Technoblade continued to ask.

“No?” And it is so weird to hear his dad’s name. Also Tommy starts to get annoyed by all these… annoying questions. So he walks past Technoblade into the corridor.

“I really think you shouldn’t be alone… running away.”

That makes Tommy halt.

“Argh! You! You all! Stop saying what I can and can not do! I’m big! A big man!”

Then he made the break for the door.

He looked back over his shoulder. But Technoblade was just standing there. Uselessly as usual.

Tommy knows exactly were someone who is running away is supposed to go, so the gripped the straps of his bag tightly as he took the path to the forest.

He’s been in the forest a few times already. Always with Mum and Dad, but Tommy is now his own mum and dad. So he will decide which pathes to take and where to go.

His heartbeat jumps in excitement. And happily, he skips in between the trees.

Being the decision-maker is fun! Until it isn’t.

Tommy forgot to bring a clock with him, so he couldn’t tell how much time has passed. But it must have been very long. First, it was fun to explore, examine mushrooms and bugs, wander around and explain to Henry all the cool stuff Dad taught him about the forest. But then he puts down Henry and his bag and runs off because he wants to gather sticks to build a cool tent. And when his arms were so full of high-quality building sticks that he could barely carry them all, he looked around and realized that he didn’t remember from what direction he came.

Henry! All his stuff! How was he supposed to survive in the wild without them?!

Tommy– He is not scared. He is big after all. But he is concerned a bit. He could admit that. He was big after all. He carefully sets into one direction, but he ends up on a clearing. And while Tommy can remember being here once for a picnic with Mum and Dad he doesn’t know how the place connects to the other places in the forest. Tommy slowly turns around himself. Looking for anything that could help him. But the problem is: Everything is half-familiar. He can remember taking these paths but not where to.

Tommy’s heartbeat speeds up without his permission.

Unsure, he chose one of them. But later, that path leads up a hill and Tommy is absolutely sure he didn’t go up any hills today.

His arms grew tried. After short consideration, he placed down his sticks before he returned the way he came from and chose another path. And that path just trailed off into the even denser forest. 

Tommy crouched down and wrapped his arms around his knees.

What to do. What to do?

Tommy rummaged through his head for some good advice about his situation, but he could barely hear his own thoughts over the thumping of his heart.

Tommy sniffles quietly and stands up again. Sitting here won’t help. He will need to try more.

So, once again, he returned to the clearing. However, when he arrived there he spotted the silhouette of another person. Tommy is frozen on the spot. Trying to decide if that means danger or rescue. However, before he could really pick it apart, he noticed the piglin's ears bouncing on top of the head with every step that the person stacked towards Tommy.

“TECHNO!”

Techno halted for a second before he half-lifted his hand awkwardly and waved. So Techno-like. Without actually deciding to, Tommy started running towards Technoblade.

“Techno!” He saw the soft smile on the piglin’s face first, then he noticed the big backpack Techno had strapped on his back. Tommy frowned.

“Are you running away too?”

Technoblade’s tails swooshed and his cheek reddened a bit.

“No…?” He spoke as if it was stupid. “But I thought I would keep you company.”

That… didn’t really make sense. But Tommy was so relieved he decided not to fight Techno on that. Not if that meant not being alone and lost.

Tommy took Techno’s hand (hoove?). It was familiar in its otherness. But at this very moment Tommy also feels comfort from it.

“But I’m the boss, alright.”

Technoblade looked down at his hand - ‘trotter’ remembered Tommy then - and then Technoblade looked at Tommy’s face.

“Alright,” Technoblade confirmed with a weird voice. Tommy didn’t swell on it.

He happily squeezed Techno’s hand, and then he had a great idea: “Okay! The first thing I decide is roles. Your role is to listen to me. And also navigation. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, boss.”

There may have been some mocking in the Piglin's tone. Nonetheless, Technoblade turns out to be a great underling. He found Tommy’s backpack again, helped to build a nice hut, brought them to the river, where they played nearly the whole day, showed Tommy what wood was good firewood and as the sun started setting down, he started a camp with sleeping bags around a campfire and even pulled food out of his bag. 

Tommy started to correct his assumption that Technoblade must not be very smart. Because Technoblade knew a lot about forests. And Camping.

When the sun is down and their bellies full, they snuggle into their sleeping bags.

It was quiet. Peaceful.  And Tommy was really exhausted in a good way, but something still had to be missing for it to be perfection. Tommy looked to Techno, who was lying down, breathing evenly.

“Technoblade?”

“Hm?”

“You're a good minion. I like you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then:

“I like you too.”

Tommy chirped back happily. He wormed in his sleeping bag directly next to Technoblade. The piglin sat up and watched him with a sidewards tilted head.

“What are you doing?”

And they were back to Tommy explaining everything that was obvious to Technoblade. The young Avian rolled his eyes.

“I come to cuddle.” 

Techno made a funny gurgling sound when Tommy pulled him back down again and shoved himself into Techno’s side. But a few minutes later, they had their sleeping bags combined into one big one and Tommy doze off embraced in their combined warmth and with Technoblade’s steady heartbeat near. 

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The next time Tommy woke up was in pain. And when he sobbed and had no calming cooing reply, Tommy realized that he was also alone.

The place between his shoulders was hard and hurting. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

Tommy could even describe how so foreign this pain was.

“Dad!” Was what he wanted to yell, but the pain overwhelmed him so much that only chirping left his throat.

He was hurting. Hurting so bad. 

It just had to stop.

He needed dad. He needed help.

He shrieked loudly but there was still no one, so Tommy had to get up to find them. However, when he uncurrled himself out of the blanket and landed in this process on his back, it felt as if the hard knots in his back got pushed into his lungs and squeezed out all the air out of the boy. With panicked movements, he tried to move around again. His feet got tangled and he fell face first back into his mattress. Irony taste filled his moth as he realized that he had bit his own lip in the fall.

Tommy whimpered.

“Tommy?!” 

Dad! Tommy chirped. Relieved, thankful.

“You’re not supposed to be awake. Oh shit, Tommy. Don’t be scared!”

He feels his dad pulling him up, hugging him, avoiding his agonizing shoulder.

“Breath, baby bird. Breath calmly. You need to go back to sleep. Everything is going to be okay.”

It didn’t help. Dad didn’t help. It only hurted and Dad’s advice was a useless on. Tommy started crying.

“Phil?”
“Not now, Techno.”

“B-But—H-he was just faking it!”

Tommy cried louder. Because he really wasn’t faking it this time. He needed them to believe him and save him. 

“Techno, please. Just bring me the medicine’s instructions on the kitchen counter. I must have messed up something when I mixed it into the food.”

There was a choked gurgling noise from Techno. And when he spoke, Technoblade’s sounded thick and pressed like that one time when he confessed that he ruined Mum’s irreplaceable special edition book that she had searched for four years.

“Tommy didn’t eat the soup.”

“What?”

“But he was faking it anyway, so I thought I didn’t matter—”

“Technoblade. Not now.”

Even through all the pain and panic, Tommy felt this special kind of fear rising.

Dad usually didn’t call Techno by his full name, especially not in that sharp tone, only when Technoblade did dangerous things that might kill himself. But right now, it was Tommy who this situation was about… 

So Dad was lying, wasn’t he? Nothing was going to be okay. Was Tommy going to die?

Tommy’s breathing was short and shallow.

“Sssssh, sweetheart. I know it hurts so much, my poor one. But I promise you are going to be alright. You just need to eat something for me, okay, my little one?”

Liar! Tommy wanted to scream, but instead, he cried and pressed his face harder in Dad’s chest.

“Technoblade. Bring me the leftovers from the medicine.”

After a moment, Tommy heard the clack clack clack of the piglin’s steps as he ran. 

“Tommy?”

Tommy chirped.

“You’re being so strong and brave right now, sweetheart. We’re taking care of you. You can go to sleep soon, and then when you wake up again, your wings will be there. Sounds cool?”

Tommy didn’t know.

The pain was so unfamiliar and … bad. Tommy couldn’t think about much more.

Clack, clack, clack.

A shadow cast on Tommy. He blinked and saw Technoblade’s form behind the blur of his tearful eyes.

“Here.”

“Thank you, Techno, you’re a big help. Now, please heat up the leftovers. Also, squash down the vegetable, so it gets easier to eat, got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

And again: clack clack clack.

Tommy could feel Dad’s tense form. Dad hated it when Techno called him like that. Even though Techno never did it on purpose.

Tommy didn’t get it. He loved when Techno played with him and called him boss. But maybe because both knew that it was just a game then.

Phil swayed them in a soft rocking motion that would make Tommy sleepy if it were not for all the pain. Tommy whimpered. Dad cooed soothingly.

He can hear the soft rustle of paper behind his back. Probably Dad, reading the instructions. The clacking of kitchenware in the distance. Probably Techno, doing what dad told him to do.

There was a disorienting timeframe in which Tommy head just… swam.

Then Dand nudged him out of their embrace and pushed something hard to Tommy’s lips.

“Here, Tommy, eat.”

Tommy didn’t really feel like eating. But if it would stop the pain? Tommy opened his mouth.

His stomach squeezed uncomfortably, but Tommy was determined to do whatever was necessary to escape the pain, so he pushed forward.

His stomach was protesting. Tommy ignored it.

He just concentrated on swallowing and the soft sounds Dad made at him.

And, finally, he was rewarded: Slowly but surely, he faded away.

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Tommy’s stomach twisted into tighter and tighter knots as he and Technoblade approached Uncle Grian’s house. His palms were sweaty, and his fingers clenched and unclenched nervously around Technoblade’s hand. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, each beat echoing in his ears like a drum.

His legs felt shaky, like they might give out at any moment, and his throat tightened as if it didn’t want to let the words escape. The closer they got, the harder it was to breathe. His mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios: Grian yelling at him, Grian slamming the door in his face, Grian saying he didn’t want to be his uncle anymore.

“He’s gonna hate me forever!”

Technoblade glanced down at him with his usual calm eyes. “No, he won’t,” he said plainly. “But even if he does, you still have to apologize.”

“That’s stupid.” Tommy muttered, pouting. “What’s the point if it doesn’t fix anything?”

Techno stopped in his tracks, turning to face Tommy fully. “The point is…” He said, voice low but not tolerating any contradictions. “... that you broke something that wasn’t yours. And you hurt someone. Whether he forgives you or not doesn’t matter. What matters is owning up to it.”

Tommy’s stomach churned, his eyes dropping to the dirt path. “But what if he never talks to me again?”

Technoblade sighed, his grip on Tommy’s hand tightening just slightly. “Then you’ll learn to live with it. But Grian’s not like that. He’s your uncle. He cares about you, even when you’re a little gremlin.”

Tommy frowned at the insult but didn’t pull away as Techno continued leading him further toward Grian’s house.

Tommy’s grip on Techno’s hand tightened as they stopped in front of the door. He couldn’t bring himself to look up, focusing instead on the cracks in the wooden porch beneath his feet. His knees wobbled, and his free hand fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, twisting it nervously.

“I—I don’t think I can do this.” Tommy whispered.

“Yes. You can.” Techno said softly but firmly, his steady tone cutting through Tommy’s rising panic.

Tommy swallowed hard, he peeked at the piglin, blinking back the prick of tears. “Will you stay? Here, I mean?”

Techno raised a brow. “I’m already here, aren’t I?”

That small reassurance eased a part of Toomy’s paralizing nerves. He gateheres his courage and jumped. Or more like: he knock on the door. 

Far soon the door opened. And when it opened, Grian stood there, his expression a mixture of confusion and weariness.

Tommy swallowed and the droped his glaze

Tommy stared at his feet. His throat felt constricted. Maybe he should just go again.

A shove to his side made him stumble. He glared at Techno, but he just looked at him expectantly. Calm. Because in Technoblade’s mind, there was no doubt that Tommy could do it. Tommy swallowed shallowed again and slowly looked at the adult in the door. Tommy’s voice was barely a whisper and a bit squeaky. It was a bit embarrassing.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Grian… for breaking your… uh, thing.” He shrugged helplessly.

“What thing?” Grian asked, probingly.

“The, uh, the glass bird thing.” Tommy mumbled, fidgeting under his uncle’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to—” Tommy stopped speaking when Techno tugged his hand. So Tommy cleared his throat and started new: “Well, it doesn’t matter. I broke it and I’m really, really sorry.”

There was a long pause, and Tommy’s heart felt like it might burst from the silence. But Technoblade squeezed his hand, grounding him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

Finally, Grian sighed, a small smile breaking across his face. 

“It was a bit of a mess, wasn’t it?” he said. “But I appreciate you coming to tell me. Accidents happen, kid. Just try to be more careful next time, yeah?”

Tommy’s head shot up. An exicited chirps slipped out befor he found his voice again:  “You’re not mad?”

“Not anymore.” Grian confirmed, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Thanks for apologizing though. It means a lot.”

Tommy’s heart thumped happily, and he chirped at his uncle in a promise. Grain grinned before he hushed them away.

“I’m busy. I have to finish the back of some buildings…”

As Tommy and Technoblade walked away, Tommy felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The nervous energy that had gripped his body earlier was gone, replaced by a calm, almost fuzzy feeling. He glanced at Technoblade, who still hadn’t let go of his hand, and smiled shyly.

“You were right.” Tommy wondered aloud. “It wasn’t the end of the world.”

Technoblade smirked and shoved him a little. “You did good.”

Tommy’s chest swelled with a sense of pride and comfort. Techno did sometimes things that made Tommy just feel… stronger in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. As much as Techno’s quietness and dryness sometimes annoyed him, in moments like this, Tommy was grateful for it. His brother liked to push him to do the hard things, but stayed by his side, and was always there to bear the consequences with him together...

For the rest of the walk home, Tommy’s hand stayed firmly in Technoblade’s. Neither felt the need to pull away.

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Tommy woke up heaving.  Cramps forced the contents of his stomach up.

He was throwing up on the bed.

“Tommy!”

Techno’s voice was right there. And Tommy’s first instinct was to reach for him but then he realized that every fibre in Tommy's body arched. Arms, legs, stomach, chest, neck. His finger, his toe, his eyes, his teeth, even the tip of his nose.

Arms wrapped around him and helped him up, steady and firm, as Tommy retched again. Techno held him with one hand bracing his back and the other gently supporting his chin to keep his head tilted forward.

“Breathe.” Techno murmured softly, rubbing small circles on Tommy’s back as the spasms subsided. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

When the worst of it was over, Techno shifted Tommy’s weight carefully, helping him sit upright against the headboard. He grabbed a damp cloth from the bedside and gently wiped Tommy’s face clean.

Tommy whimpered, his head falling against Techno’s shoulder. And in a more luid state he would maybe more thankful for Technoblade allowing it - eventhought Techno must be still angry with him. But his head was spinning so much with all the weird drowsiness. Like in a caruell… but through honey. 

He noticed his hands shaking. His whole body really… his breaths coming out in uneven hiccups. “I feel awful, Techno.” The little Avian croaked.

“I know, Tommy.” Techno wispered quietly back.. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit. Hold tight.”

With efficiency that was so typical for his big brother, Techno shifted into action. He grabbed the soiled bedding and set it aside, replacing it with fresh sheets he must have pulled from somewhere nearby. Tommy was too drained to notice where, but the familiar, clean scent was comforting. He pressed his nose into the softness.

“Alright, bed’s all good now. Sit here for a sec.” Techno helped him lean against a pile of pillows on the floor, while he tucked everything in place. Then, without a word, he lifted Tommy gently back onto the bed.

And for some reason that was what made Tommy cry.

Not the pain. All theses different kind of pain that made it impossible to tell them even apart at this point.

No, what made him break, was the the his strong big brother that would alway be there.

In his tear-filled vision, he saw Technoblade. He softly cupped Tommy’s face and slowly, softly bonked their foreheads together before Techno pulled back just as carefully.

Piglin’s way of showing affection seemed stupid and weird to Tommy 99% of the time. But right now? When was his mind too clouded for words? Tommy sniffed and bumped his forehead back at his brother.

“It’s alright, Tommy. Dad is on the way to get a doctor here. You know, what that means right?” Technoblade’s voice was barley a whisper but still Tommy yould feel the affectionate tease in the next words: “Real hardcore drugs.”

Tommy laughed, but it ended up in a hiccup, and then he cried quietly while Technoblaed stroked through his hair.

At some point, he heard multiple footsteps enter his bedroom, a needle in his arm, and finally, Blissful, empty nothingness.

Tommy woke up and immediately knew that he was safe.

It was a truth that he knew before he had a chance to analyse his surroundings. Or before he could free his brain out of the…. woooosh-y nice-y haze-y feeling.

He was lying on his stomach, face hidden in his crossed arms. But even so: He could feel it in his bones that Philza was not far away.

He should probably be wondering about this newfound talent, but it felt natural instead. Obvious to have.

“Chick?” Phil’s breath tickled the little hairs on his arms. And somehow, Tommy knew that Dad knew that he was awake. Not a guess. Not a gut feeling. Knew. Just like he knew that Mum must have returned from her travels. At least he could feel her next door.

“Dad.” God, his voice sounded rough, and his body felt heavy. Funnily, that made his business brain start to boot up again, slowly but surely. Capitalize on your own weakness! “Dad?”

A warm hand stroked over his head. “Hm?”

“I feel very weak. Can I have some ice creme?”

There was a pause and a moment. Tommy thought Dad’s old ears didn’t hear him. But then Phil chuckled and resumed with a ruffle through Tommy’s hair.

“Sure, chick, sure.”

But then he didn’t move a bit. Honestly, though, Tommy actually liked it better for Dad to stay close right now anyway.

“Everything is… weird?” Tommy muttered half to his blanket.

Phil hummed.

“The wings? Or the additional awareness, you mean?”

Wings…? Wings!!

Tommy flexed instinctively his shoulders… or- or something close enough to his shoulders, and sure enough, something responded! But not more than a twitch?

Dad chuckled.

“You will need to build up that muscle first before you can properly use them.”

Tommy turned his head to face his Dad… What he had said sounded suspiciously like homework. Something brushed his elbow. Surprised, Tommy chirped and turned his head to the other side of the bed. Next to him, Technoblade was sleeping restlessly. A searching hand closed around Tommy’s arm before Techno’s breath evened out again.

Tommy turned with a frown back to Phil.

“Don’t tell me, I also have to do extra work to that awareness thingy, too!”

Philza blinked.

“Oh. I mean that… that is just a sense that connects you with the rest of the flock…”

Tommy groaned.

“So that is a yes, isn’t it…?”

Phil looked at him a bit quizzically until suddenly he looked between Tommy and Technoblade and then back at Tommy. Suddenly, Dad’s lips pulled up in a grin and he ruffled Tommy’s hair.

“Well, if you look at it like that, I supposed, it is in itself an incomplete sense…”

“So NO extra training?!”

Phil laughed merrily. Tommy tried to swat his hand away but had a bit trouble to ccordinate his limbes with all the  swooosh-y-ness and drowsiness. So no sucess there. He had to subscribe himself to d ad being odd once again.

And loud: Tommy heard Technoblade grumbling.

“What’s happening?” The piglin asked with a sleepy voice.

“Nothing. Dad is weird again.” Tommy assured him. But instead of being assured and falling back to sleep, Technoblade was now wide awake.

“Tommy?!”

Tommy, exhausted, turned around once again.

Technoblade’s snout wiggled a bit when their eyes finally met.

A gesture Tommy yet had to decipher.

“Hey, Techno.”

“Hey.”

There was a pause. Technoblade didn’t look a bit angry. Tired maybe. Maybe even relieved. Techno probably didn’t remember in this moment the mean thing he said… minutes? hours? days? ago. But Tommy remembered in this moment suddenly very vividly and felt very bad. So even though Tommy knew that he could get away with it… Tommy took one of Technoblade’s trotter- hands- hooves - whatever - for moral support and licked his dry lips.

“Techno, I’m sorry I faked being sick at first and made you miss book club… And I really honestly didn’t mean it when I said that I didn’t need you.”

Technoblade’s face when guarded. He broke their eye contact, cleared his throat and shrugged.

“Yeah, whatever.” The piglin mumbled, face reddening. “You’re only apologizing on your own because you’re still high anyway, don’t you?”

Tommy was about to protest when the words clicked.

“Drugs?! Which one? How many?! I bet you had to use the extra hard ones on a big man like me!!”

Two deep - but also affectionate - sighs are his only answers.