Work Text:
Tommy would like it stated for the record that he was not originally trying to run away, regardless of what Technoblade, Philza, Wilbur, the subordinates, Quakity, Tubbo, that one guy at the gas station, or anyone else seems to think. Tommy dares anyone faced with a fuming Technoblade to not run. They won’t, because his brother can be fucking terrifying.
Sure, he got spooked by Dreams' sudden appearance (spooked was an understatement; he was terrified to his bones), but his plan was just to hide out in a safehouse until the fucker got out of their territory. No plans of splitting off into the sunset whatsoever!
But now Tommy is stuck in a bind. He really does not want to continue running away because, for one, he never wanted to, and for another, even with his skill, he has no doubt he will eventually lose this game of cat and mouse that he and Techno are playing. Unfortunately for Tommy, he has enough common sense to be absolutely terrified at what is going to happen when his brother catches him.
If he is lucky, he will end up just getting shot once when Techno captures him (Wilbur did not get off so lucky when he tried running away; the fact that he tried multiple times makes Tommy think he was just using a really weird suicide method). So clearly, this situation needs to be dealt with quickly and with finesse. The first step requires Tommy to get an untraceable phone. Easy enough.
Walking into a crowded subway space with a hood to cover his features, he searches for a good target. Suit guys A, B, C, and D are all ruled out right away. Sure, they might be distracted by the sense of urgency they display, but they likely use their phone for calls often and are the type to kick up a fuss regarding a missing phone. That also rules out any people showing clear signs of poverty, phones are essential, and Tommy isn’t gonna steal from someone who is already struggling. He was living on the streets once, and he knows what something like that can do to a person.
A sense of panic washes over him when, on his search, Tommy spots someone clearly from the Syndicate. A civilian wouldn't be able to tell, but the hybrid features combined with the ring and tattoos give it away easily to those who know what to look for.
Tommy forcefully relaxes his body and catalogs whether this man is an immediate threat. Nope, it’s fine. The man hasn’t noticed Tommy and seems to be going about his own business. Tommy is wearing a good disguise, both clothing-wise and personality-wise. He has changed his body language to fit more with a teenager heading to or from a party. Tommy’s clothes reflect that, too. He is wearing a black crop top with a white undershirt and a black pair of sweatpants. It is unlike his usual style and falls into the category of eye-catching yet forgettable. Even his hybrid features are hidden, one of the big perks of being a demon hybrid is that he can hide his features in order to blend in with society.
No one who is trying to remain undetected would wear this. That is what most people would think. They would be wrong. Plus, most people see the outfit and assume he is a woman, and Tommy has enough comfort in his gender to see this as the boon that it can be.
Tommy continues tracking the man as he leaves, but is soon distracted
from the mafioso by a man yelling at a hybrid. Listening in, he gleans that the man is a bigoted prick, and looking at him, the man seems to be rich if the outfit he is wearing is anything to go by (which it is, Tommy is amazing at profiling people). Smiling widely, Tommy decides exactly who his target is.
Walking by with purpose, he discreetly watches the man who is still going on a titrate. Tommy takes care not to bump into him, seeing how much of a fuss the man makes about that. With how distracted he is, Tommy has no issue snatching his phone and then some. He did not need the man’s wallet, but money is always nice. Plus, screwing over assholes always makes his day.
With that done, he hops on the nearest subway and emerges on a different side of town. He slides out his newly acquired phone and puts in the numbers he knows by heart to make his first call.
Holding it up to his ear, Tommy waits for the call to connect. He would be worried an unknown number would prevent an answer, but Tubbo absolutely adores fucking with salesmen and scammers, so Tommy should be fine. This thought is proven correct when he is met with the voice of a young child.
“Hell, oh, Mr. or Ms. Adult! How can I help you?” is heard through the phone’s speaker, the person clearly having the tone and intonation qualities of a 7-year-old.
Instead of fucking with Tubbo back, Tommy decides that the threat of Technoblade is worth simply cutting to the chase: “Tubbo, I need your help so bad.”
The voice switched instantly to the serious voice of a teenager who can and has hacked the Pentagon.
“Tommy?”
Tubbo is a good friend who has helped Tommy out more times than can be counted. That said, the slight of Tommy leaving without informing him will not go unpunished, and Tommy is distinctly aware that if he cannot make a good enough case to Tubbo, he will be snitched faster than he could say pog. Because Tubbo is a good friend, but he is also a possessive one, and Tommy leaving him is very clearly not fucking allowed.
“Ok! So I really need you to hear me out before you get mad at me, Tubs!" Tommy rushes out before he can start threatening him.
“I am coming back, I know I have been on the run for like almost two weeks now, but I have a plan! Frankly, with how mad everyone is at me,” Tommy continues despite Tubbo’s utterance of his own grievances," I can not currently go back if I wanted to, which I do. So plan. With your help. Please, Tubbo, I will literally beg you right now.”
“If you want to come back, why did you leave in the first place? Also, what the fuck is your problem with Dream? I tried looking into it, but I found nothing.” Tubbo voices, tinged with bitterness and anger.
“Long story, short version, I didn’t really mean to, it just kinda happened. Is knowing about Dream and I’s relationship a dealbreaker for obtaining your help?” Tommy asks, both hesitant about being a waiting duck. He is still moving, but his focus is mainly on this conversation. Not a good move when being hunted by Techno of all people. and actually explaining his relationship with Dream. He put it behind him into his mind vault. Shush, Puffy, it’s fine. And this whole thing started because he didn’t want to dig it up.
So when Tubbo’s reply is a resounding yes, Tommy takes the time to find a good hiding spot before answering.
“You know how I was weirdly talented when I ran away and met you on the streets?”
“Yes,” Tubbo confirmed. It had always perplexed him, despite Tubbo being a similar prodigy in his own area of expertise.
“Yeah, well, being trained from the age of five to be a weapon will do that to you. When you met me, I had just run away from Dream. I was not treated well there, if my scars were any indication, and I had tried to kill Dream before leaving. I failed, seeing as he is still alive, but he was incapacitated long enough that I was able to get out. It isn’t really common knowledge, but if you research the name Theseus, a basic ass name I know, look at Dream, not me, instead, you should be able to find information. That or hack into his files on me. I am certain he kept the videos, too, the fucking creep. But, yeah, not the best thing seeing him there without warning.”
Tommy could hear the fast-paced typing that accompanies Tubbo wherever he goes. When Tubbo gasps and drops a mug of coffee if the crashing sound is anything to go by, Tommy knows Tubbo opted for Dream’s files.
“Not pretty, I know. Now will you help me?” Tommy says, clearly not wanting to address what he knows Tubbo saw.
Luckily, Tubbo does not wish to continue either as Tommy gets an affirmative.
“Great. So, the plan is I call Philza, and I need you to make this phone untraceable in case this goes bad. Then, should I need to prove why I bailed, you will swoop in to help with that. Now should Techno decide….” Tommy continues, listing contingency A to Y.
(Z is a dumb letter that should go fuck itself, no Tubbo, it isn’t just because the one time a situation escalated all the way to a Z plan Tommy ended up losing the tip of his middle finger. Shut up. It is not funny.)
When Tommy gets the text that everything is ready, he is up on the roof of a mall. At this point, his goal is simply to be in the most outlandish places that no one would ever look. Sighing, Tommy brings the stolen phone above his head where he is lying, eclipsing the sky, and dials the number.
The phone barely rings once before the call is picked up. It is not a habit of Philza’s to pick up random numbers speedily; he has confidence in his ability to handle threats with or without info and time on his side, but with Tommy still missing, it makes sense.
“Father.”
The phone shifts as the person on the other end takes in the situation. It is certainly a shock to have the person that you put a bounty on call you.
Philza has always been good at adapting, though, “Tommy, to what do I have this pleasure?”
Tommy needs to go about this delicately for any chance of succeeding.
“I don’t have much use for 100,000 dollars in all honesty, so I was thinking if I could trade the reward money for the reward of not getting the shit beat out of me? Thoughts?”
Or he could just do that. Thank you, brain-to-mouth filter. For nothing, you suck. Ok, well, nothing Tommy can do now.
“My thoughts?” Phil ponders over the phone, likely trying to trace the call, “Well, I think it is incredibly fascinating that you think getting off light would be anything less than that. Truly, Tommy, you know how much trouble a stunt like running away is.”
Phil is correct, running from any mafia is a recipe for disaster, but the syndicate? If Tommy were anyone other than himself, he would have just killed himself here and now to avoid Phil getting his hands on Tommy.
“But you would be open to a less severe punishment?” Tommy jumps on the smallest opening that was handed to him, like a dog with a bone.
“I could consider it, yes. But why should I consider it, mate? You ran.” The emphasis on the last word sent chills down his spine. Phil was definitely pissed.
“Now, how exactly did you get Tubbo on your side? The last time he spoke, he was ready to immobilize you for the next twenty years. It was quite a fun idea, really. An IV pumps your veins full of drugs so you couldn’t move. You’d be on them for an undetermined amount of time, but long enough you’d get hooked. We would use the good stuff too, the really addictive ones. Then, eventually, you would get cut off. Full freedom back, you could do whatever you wanted. Or you could stay tied down in exchange for just one more hit? Do you think you would? Break your own legs just for the chance we give you a little more? I think so.” Phil was trying to get into his heart; Tommy knew that. He also knew exactly what that process would look like. Wilbur did it to him once before.
When the mad chemist had first invented Blue, he was exposed to so much of its fumes that paranoia crept into Wilbur's mind. He started thinking Tommy was going to leave. Wilbur’s solution to that was to secretly slip doses into Tommy’s own food. Eventually Tommy found out, but by then he was hooked. Near the end, right before Phil caught wind of the whole fiasco, Tommy was dissociated most of the day. He would have to step out on missions, his hands shaking from the withdrawal of a few hours without Blue in his system. Hallucinations plagued his days, and Tommy still can’t sort out what happened in that two-month period. It got so bad that Tommy couldn’t even enjoy the highs that Blue apparently gave all that much, only taking it in order to avoid the pain of not having it in his system. Wilbur would make Tommy beg on his bad days, when he believed everyone would abandon him.
Techno was put in charge of weaning Tommy off, Phil being busy with Wilbur. Tommy was not in trouble in the same way Wilbur was, having not started willingly, but both men were mad that Tommy never informed them. That anger made Tech much harsher when Tommy would sneak extra. Techno would make Tommy work out until he dropped. If he was tired, sit down and drink water. If he wasn’t, then Tommy better be moving. Still, it was better than Wilbur, who was cut off cold turkey.
Tommy shouldn’t shout; he knows better. Hell, he and Tubbo made a plan on what to do when Phil goaded him. But the jab hit exactly where it meant to.
“Tubbo figured that punishing me for your mistakes was asinine.”
“My mistake? I don’t recall making any mistake other than trusting you to behave yourself. Though that was clearly a major one.” The acidity in his voice was not even slightly dulled by the speaker held to Tommy’s ear.
Tubbo seemed to decide Tommy was fucking it up too much, as before a hole could be dug further, his voice crackled into the call, shocking Tommy back to sanity.
“Pissing Phil off more is not the goal here. I am sending the info to Phil. While he reviews it, you should take a walk. Specifically, you to the other side of the mall because Techno is in your location.” With that, Tubbo cut the call. Tubbo would re-link the call once Phil had looked through the nice little scrapbook of Tommy’s childhood trauma.
The information about Technoblade, however, kicked Tommy back into gear. How the fucker is still able to track Tommy by scent will forever elude him. He is covered head to toe in the most artificial cotton candy perfume known to man. Tommy likes the treat, but honestly, the perfume makes him gag.
Technoblade has tried explaining it before, during one of their scenting sessions.
Tommy sat on Techno’s bed, fidgeting with the rings he nabbed from the man's jewelry box. Techno was rubbing his wrist over Tommy’s neck at the moment, so Tommy got to use his hands. Every once in a while, Tommy would feel Techno pause to sniff the air and then go back to focusing on Tommy.
“So, why the fuck does rubbing your hand on me three times matter so much more than two?” Tommy blurted, trying to parse out how long this whole thing would take this time. Both of them had been on different jobs out of the city for the past two months and didn’t get much overlap time to hang out, work, or play.
Now that Phil declared the two of them are finally done with outside missions for a bit, Techno has dragged Tommy to his den for scenting. Out of all the hybrid instincts, this is the one Tommy gets the least. He understands the concept of wanting to mark who is in your pack and all, Tommy does that himself in the form of magic claims. Anyone who can sense demon magic would see Tommy’s magical handprints all over his family. The part that doesn’t make sense is how Techno is able to track him from it. There is no magic in the piglin process of scenting whatsoever. It really shouldn’t be possible how easily Techno can find him so easily in a big city.
“Brat, I've told you before, it is because of the ratio of combinations. I can tell my own scent from anywhere, and piglin sweat is a unique smell, both due to the supposed nether relation and the way magic warped the physiology of the species. When it mixes with others at the correct amount, a melding smell is formed, and it can’t be covered.”
“Yeah, buttt whyyyyyyyy not? Actually, never mind, you're just gonna speak more nonsense.”
No sense at all. Really, what the fuck kinda explanation is that, Techno? It sounds like a half-baked worldbuilding idea in a shitty novel to justify the guy catching the main character.
Still, Tommy runs down from the roof and into the mall full of civilians.
Tommy is just in time too; he sees a flash of pink on the roof he was just on. Technoblade likely wouldn’t shoot Tommy until he was close enough that people wouldn’t notice. When Phil calls him back, Tommy will gain temporary protection as Techno defers to Phil’s decision-making.
So, game of keep away. Easier said than done.
Tommy is looking around for a bigger shop; a smaller one would just put Tommy in a box and make it easier for Techno to corner him. Tommy sees a map of the place and locates his store. It is big, with two floors, and it focuses on clothing and makeup. A general rule of thumb is that women are more likely to step in when someone is in need of help, and Tommy definitely needs some of that.
Especially because Tommy can sense Technoblade’s presence, meaning there is no doubt Technoblade knows where Tommy is.
There is a delicate balance of drawing enough attention that Techno is hesitant to take drastic measures, and not drawing so much that Techno decides that brute forcing it is the easiest way. That means that both Techno and Tommy are stuck speed walking.
They kill off two minutes just getting to the battleground of Tommy’s choosing because of this. A bonus for Tommy, whose win condition is simply stalling long enough.
Walking in, Tommy begins heading to the makeup section, both because it falls in line with his disguise and because some barriers can keep Techno apart from him.
Techno follows, a scowl on his face as he sees Tommy’s plan. Yikes, Tech is also really, really mad. Ok. This is fine.
This is not fine, it is terrible. For some unknown reason, Tommy forgot to account for customer service. Fuck.
A woman no older than 25 walks up to him, her name tag proclaiming her to be a Jesica.
“Do you need any help finding what you want?” It is a valid question, seeing as Tommy has been rotating between the aisles at a speed quite peculiar. However, it is not appreciated.
“No, she is fine. My sister was just browsing. Thank you for the offer, though.” A hand clamped onto Tommy’s shoulder, and dread spread through his body like a title wave.
Tommy smiled along as his shoulder socket was getting squeezed to death.
“Of course, just ask if you need anything.” With that, Jesica walked away, leaving Tommy to his doom.
“Hey, Techno.” Tommy tries to feign normality. Seeing as the hands' grip strength increases, Technoblade is not amused.
“Why don’t we talk over there, Thes?” It was not stated as an offer. Tommy nodded in agreement.
They go to one of the corners of the store, and Tommy feels the press of a gun barrel to his spine. It takes all of his self-control not to arch away from it.
“Now,” Whatever Techno was going to say is cut off by the shrill ringing of Tommy’s stolen phone.
Quickly, Tommy answers and puts it on speaker phone.
“Well, mate, Tubbo represented your case well enough,” Phil’s voice rings out, causing Technoblade to snap his neck towards the phone. With the solace of temporary protection, Tommy lets his head tilt back to rest on Techno’s chest.
It is surprisingly helpful in finding his happy place, considering there is still a gun pressed against him. He closes his eyes and breathes.
“We both know that the uncertainties in what your punishment will be unsettle you. Frankly, you deserve it, with how little we knew about your location this past week and a half. So, instead, here is what I am willing to offer you.” Tommy can feel Techno’s eyes boring into him. Technoblade is likely pondering what Tommy did to appease Phil. The answer is bear his fucking soul, but Techno doesn’t know that.
“Your stunt forced your poor brother to run all around searching for you. I am going to leave your punishment in his hands. Techno won’t get to decide until you two are back home and he has read all the information. I recommend Tommy, you act really sweet to your brother until then. It is a five-hour flight back and all.” Tommy feels his anxiety rising; he would have much preferred simply knowing what he was walking back into.
Still, Tommy can read between the lines: ‘If your brother chooses anything too extreme, I will step in, but otherwise you're on your own.’
“Technoblade, you are to handle Tommy nicely until then.” With that final order, Phil ended the call, leaving Tommy to sit in silence with the person who controls exactly how miserable Tommy is going to be for the next while.
Technoblade let out a huff of annoyed amusement as he pocketed his gun, “How’d you manage that, runt?” Tommy was manhandled by the building of a man until they were walking out of the mall and onto Techno’s motorcycle.
“I managed to get Tubbo’s help with enough begging,” Tommy admits as Techno lifts him up onto the leather seat and hands him the spare helmet. Hypocritically, too, seeing as the man doesn’t ever use one himself. Bu, Tommy doesn’t need to piss the guy off more, so he puts it on with no complaints.
“That checks out. That kid scares me.”
“Yeah.”
With that, Techno sits behind him, cornering him in with his arms. Tommy would comment on the safety concern, but Techno is so much bigger than him; the extra arm reach isn’t really an issue.
They drive in silence, the only noise that of the city and the wind.
Tommy considered attempting to make small talk, but decided letting Techno decide when they converse is the smarter idea. So he contents himself with watching the cars fly past them as Techno swerves. Tommy is really glad Technoblade pulled his hair into a bun, seeing as he was missing his trademarked braid. The lack of pink hair whipping Tommy in the face is relieving. Though the fact that Technoblade hasn’t taken the time to braid his hair when hunting Tommy down does cause his stomach to sink with guilt.
Still, not initiating small talk means the first words uttered are when Techno pulls into the private airport.
“Get up,” a hand grabs Tommy and plops him onto his feet like a child before he could follow the order. Clearly, the slight levity Technoblade found earlier vanished. Replacing it was the cold, hard anger Tommy had been expecting.
“I don’t trust you to follow me, so get in front.” Techno gruffly voices, which actually hurt Tommy’s feelings slightly if he is being honest. He totally handed himself over, which says a lot because this whole situation is absolutely horrendous.
Tommy did as told, though, because, unlike what Techno thinks, he can in fact be trusted. He walks to and up the plane stairs and then waits for Techno to tell him where to sit since his brother is an absolute control freak. Tommy is not let down as his wrist is succinctly snatched by Techno’s larger, more scared hands. Tommy lets himself (Techno would have been able to anyway, but he didn’t resist it, so whatever) be dragged to a seat. Technoblade throws him onto the cushion and, with a sharp “Stay,” turns around to grab something.
Tommy groans when he sees what it is.
“Really, Tech? How am I going to escape 500 feet up in the air?” Tommy snarks. He was trying to behave, but come on, dude? Handcuffs? They aren’t even padded like the ones Techoblade uses when he wants Tommy to stay in his den.
His complaints bear no consideration on Technoblade’s side, apart from a warning growl to behave. Then, with a flourish, Tommy was tied down to an airplane chair. Tommy thanks his lucky stars that this is a private plane and therefore the seats are soft.
Techno chuffed contentedly and moved to sit opposite him, only a small table separating them. Techno’s red-eyed stare felt as though it was bearing down the weight of Atlas onto Tommy’s person. They sat like that while the plane began to take off, the poor henchman sent to pick them up hiding out in the cockpit. The shakiness of the plane's takeoff jostled Tommy around slightly, and he ended up banging his cuffed hand against the movements. Tommy was familiar enough with throwing his body around to know it wouldn’t end up bruised, so that was nice.
Their standoff was broken when Technoblade’s phone pinged, likely with the info Tubbo had given Phil. For God's sake, every person Tommy knows is going to be aware of his tragic orphan background at this rate. The emotional vulnerability would give Tommy hives if he hadn’t already committed to aggressively ignoring any and all attempts to speak with him on the matter. He had thought, and so everything would be fine, and Tommy would not feel as though he was an onion with its shell peeled off.
Tommy is pretty sure his guess was correct when Technoblade pulled out his work computer and reading glasses. What fucking mafioso needed reading glasses, man? It’s kinda embarrassing. Still, Tommy had no way of knowing for sure, seeing as he was chained to his fucking chair.
Tommy is one hundred percent sure that it is the damn book of traumas when Technoblade lets out a guttural growl. Not the type that says ‘I am angry at you’, not the ‘I am about to maim someone, not even the ‘everyone in a five-meter radius is going to be six feet under’ type of growl.
No, it’s the type of growl that strikes fear into the bones of anyone who hears it. The type of growl that sparks a primal fear into even the most ignorant humans.
Tommy watches the veins bulge on Technoblade’s forearms as he clenches the armchairs hard enough to dent. The man is clearly using all his self-control to keep himself seated and not launch himself onto Tommy. The man is a brute, and that means he is supposed to protect Tommy. In front of him is proof that he failed to protect Tommy. The fact that Technoblade didn’t know Tommy at the time would do nothing to persuade the man's instincts that he didn’t fail.
Technoblade’s own past as an underground child fighter would do the man no favors.
Somehow, Technoblade manages to stay still, a feat that honestly impresses Tommy. Instead, Technoblade slowly removes his hand from the poor armrest in order to scroll lower. If Technoblade is one thing other than a perfectionist, it is thorough. Tommy knows that by the end of the night, his brother will have memorised every line. This thought is then discarded, because it doesn’t matter. It does, he doesn’t want his brother to know this information about him.
The handcuff irritates Tommy now. He wants to move, to get rid of the terrible feeling in his chest. The dumb thing makes that really hard to do. Tommy nearly caves in the second hour of sitting in dread and goes to pick it, but before he does, Technoblade gets up and breaks it off himself. The rip off metal shocks Tommy enough to look up from glaring at the now destroyed piece of metal.
Staring at Technoblade’s eyes, he sees only black, the man's blown pupils swallowing any hint of red.
He picks Tommy up and moves them to the bed. Usually, Tommy would judge the need for a bed in a plane, but when their organization is filled with basically only hybrids, he can see the reason.
As Techno straightens out the bed to his purpose, Tommy observes how deep in his instincts Technoblade truly is. He is at the point that, as long as Tommy stays where he is supposed to and does what he is asked to, anything else will be ignored.
It is for that reason that once the two of them are settled, Tommy reaches to undo Technoblade’s bun.
The fact that it wasn’t braided bothered Tommy the more he looked, and so now that he can do something about the travesty, he jumps at the chance.
That is how the rest of the flight goes, Technoblade cuddling Tommy into submission and Tommy braiding the man's hair. Tommy is righting a wrong, if you will.
Tommy is still in drag.
“You're getting piercings.”
Techno’s voice reverberates through the room, grabbing the attention of its other inhabitant.
This is an extremely light punishment, all things considered, but it is an upsetting one nonetheless. Tommy has avoided getting a single piercing since he met Technoblade six years ago. To lose that control over what happens to his body is upsetting. Ironically, more than any torture session that other organizations have put him through.
But Technoblade already has his piercing kit out, as well as multiple beginner earrings. So Tommy steals himself and goes to where Techno is setting up.
“Alright, Toms, sit down. I need to disinfect the needle.” Tommy sees that there is no professional machine for the process, and figures that it is part of the punishment as well. Instead, Tommy has to watch as Technoblade holds the needle over the lighter Tommy gifted him last year, flames licking at the metal.
Techno grabs hold of his chin and gives him only the warning of, “Don’t move,” before stabbing through Tommy’s ear.
It realistically shouldn’t hurt with Tommy’s pain tolerance, but due to his heightened fear, it does. It hurts like a motherfucker, actually.
Only when Technoblade slides an earring into the just-made hole does Tommy let out a pained breath.
Technoblade has no empathy, though, instead immediately going higher. Tommy expected only one piercing; clearly, he was wrong.
Still, he isn’t a pussy, so when Technoblade keeps going higher and higher, Tommy sits still and takes it.
He doesn’t know how long the process took, but they finished, and Technoblade held up a mirror to show off the small chunks of gold that resided on his starter earrings.
After a glance, Tommy looked away. The change in appearance would bother him for some time. Technoblade didn’t mind, however, already lost in the sauce of his instincts.
Tommy would adapt though, he always does end up managing.
As he gazes at the happy form of his brother, Tommy knows why.