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Technoblade got hit with a fucking truth potion, and Tommy is over the goddamn moon about it.
Now, okay, listen. Here’s the thing. Ever since Tommy met Wilbur, Technoblade had been some great, stoic warrior who never had a problem shedding blood. To be completely fucking honest, he was Tommy’s hero. He won’t ever tell anyone that, but the statement still stands. Tommy wanted to be just like him when he grew up—maybe even better. He was ‘The Blade’, he was a hero, he was everything.
Wilbur liked to call them all brothers when they were in Pogtopia. Before his head got bad, Wilbur had told them over and over that the three of them were brothers, and Phil was their dad, and they’d adopted Tubbo out of a box on the side of the road. It was nice. Tommy liked to pretend that it was true sometimes. Even after it was all over—after Wilbur was gone and L’Manburg was gone and Techno was gone and Tommy was gone—he still liked to pretend that they were a family. That Wilbur and Techno were his big brothers, and Phil was their dad, and they were a happy family of four. He liked to pretend.
He only stopped pretending when he was faced with everything he had become, everything Techno and Dream had molded him into, and he’d decided he wanted to be better. That he needed to be better for himself, for Tubbo, for Wilbur and L’Manburg, for everyone. So he stopped pretending that they were a family. He stopped pretending that Techno could be anything other than the powerhouse he made himself to be. Techno would never be anything except a hypocrite of a man who failed to recognize those outside of his goal.
Even still.
Even still, he’d let Tommy rob him. It wasn’t even robbing after Techno knew he was there; it was just Techno letting him take his things. It was sharing, basically. It was weird.
It made it hard to not pretend that they could’ve been a family at some point.
And then the prison. Tommy died. Dream revived him. Dream revived Wilbur. Techno and Phil broke Dream out of prison.
(Ranboo died.)
It’s a lot. There’s… there’s a lot. Tommy’s brain keeps trying so desperately to get him to forgive them—not because they deserve it, or they could be mistaken, but because Tommy misses them. He misses the idea that Wilbur carved into his head of Phil as this amazing, loving father. He misses the way Techno used to look after him, even if he’d been doing it for his own gain.
He. misses them the same way he misses Dream sometimes. He misses the good parts. He misses feeling like he’d belonged, or like he’d been wanted.
But that’s a lot to think about. What Tommy is going to think about right now is the fact that Techno got hit with a truth potion, and he is absolutely about to sneak his way into Techno’s house to ask him whatever questions he wants. Is it a little mean? Yes. Does Tommy care? Nope! This is what Techno gets for breaking Dream out of prison. Tommy’s going to forgive him just like he always does, but first, he wants some answers. Some answers he’s going to get.
He slinks his way in through the basement doors that Techno never fucking locks, climbing up the ladder with a sneaky little smirk on his face, and pushing the trapdoor open. Techno stands with his back to him, hunched over a brewing stand as he probably tries to brew a potion that’ll counteract this one. Alas, Tommy is here to be distracting now. Techno won’t kill him while he’s here.
(And if he does, well. Dream won’t let him stay dead. That’s still a factor he’s doing his best to ignore.)
“Technoblade!” Tommy crows, delighting in the way the much larger man jumps. “It’s your favorite person!”
Technoblade groans in what could possibly be agony but is likely just annoyance, and he turns slowly to pin Tommy with a Look. It’s some cross between annoyed and blatantly distressed, and Tommy’s grin grows.
“Out,” Techno demands as though he’s talking to a dog. “Out of my house.”
“Awe, but Techno! Don’t you want to spend time with me?”
“Not right now,” he grouches, and then he looks positively murderous after. Glee crawls up Tommy’s spine at the clear demonstration that the potion is still active.
Tommy climbs the rest of the way out of the basement and then sits down on one of the unoccupied counters, swinging his feet and fiddling with the loose threads at the end of his cardigan sleeves. Techno looks like he’s trying to disappear into thin air. Or maybe he just has to shit.
“Why do you look like that?”
“I’m in emotional distress.”
Tommy throws his head back and laughs. He nearly topples off the counter with the force of his laughter, and by the time he manages to calm down, he has to cough due to a lack of air. It’s funny. Sue him.
“I didn’t know you felt emotions besides revenge, Technoblade.” Tommy teases, and it’s not a question, so it doesn’t require an answer. Techno’s clear relief almost makes Tommy feel bad, but it also doesn’t. Fuck remorse. Techno doesn’t feel it, so Tommy won’t either.
He follows Techno outside when the older man tries to escape him, scurrying around on his heels like a baby piglin. He’s close enough to take the end of Techno’s cloak in his hands as though he were small, but he doesn’t. He’s too big of a man for that, thanks.
“Which polar bear is your favorite?” Tommy asks as they walk by the bears.
Techno answers, “Steve,” without hesitation, and Tommy mournfully pats Baba on the head as they pass.
“I’m sorry, friend,” he tells the bear, and then he rushes to catch up to Techno yet again. “What’s your favorite thing about your dumb book club?”
“They don’t tell me no,” Techno responds, and his steps stutter. Tommy feels like his eyebrows relocate into somewhere on his scalp when Techno picks up his pace. “Go home, Tommy.”
“Home isn’t safe, Blade,” Tommy snarks back, and he hurries after Techno. It’s a little difficult, but Techno had worked to make this prosthetic function in the snow, so Tommy can still keep up with him.
That’s another reason Tommy has such a hard time acknowledging that Techno isn’t the brother Wilbur crafted him to be. Technoblade has worked so hard to make this stupid prosthetic for Tommy. He’d taught him how to fucking walk again. It’s hard to look at Techno and just automatically associate him with horrible things because something good is still attached to his fucking leg.
Anyway.
“Speaking of that: why the fuck did you break Dream out of prison?” There it is. There’s the million-dollar question. Tommy’s just put his cards on the table, and Techno has no choice but to put his own cards down, too. The self-proclaimed Blood God can’t hide anymore, and Tommy is a shark in the water that’s tasted weakness on his tongue. He’s going to get the answers, or he’s going to die trying.
“I owed him a favor,” Techno answers, plain and simple and unburdened. Like that means anything at all. Like owing a monster or a person a favor is a justifiable reason to break that monster out of prison. “And Sam put Ranboo in prison, too, so we had to get him out.”
Tommy files that fact away for later; he’ll ask Sam about it. His brain is still jumbled from the actual day, his communicator still gone after Dream broke it all that time ago. Maybe Sam will be able to tell him more.
“Why not just break Ranboo out of prison? Why did you have to break out Dream, too?”
“The prison’s weakest point was under the main cell, and like I said, I owed Dream a favor.”
There’s something nasty crawling up Tommy’s spine and settling delicately between his shoulder blades, pushing down on the nerves there until he curls in on himself a little more than normal. He doesn’t like where this is going. He doesn’t like any of this.
“So if-” and he has to stop, swallowing around the terror that’s making his hands shake worse than before. “So if Dream had wanted you to give me to him for that favor, would you have?”
He wants to cover his ears; he wants to curl up in a ball under the snow until he freezes to death. Anything to get away from the reality of whatever Techno’s answer is going to be. Because Tommy wanted to know when he knew he couldn’t, but now he’s going to know. Techno is going to answer, and he’s going to do so honestly.
“Yes,” Techno tells him. He says it without struggle, without hesitation, without remorse. Never remorse. “I owed him a favor.”
They’ve stopped walking, now. Techno has turned to face him, and even though his wide shoulders are blocking the cold wind, Tommy still blames the watering of his eyes on it. He hates the way his throat works around this newfound information. He hates the way Techno stares down at him even more.
“Was that all I was to you? A favor to repay?”
Tommy knows, you know? He knows he was never as important to Techno as Techno was to him. If Technoblade cared for him in the same way, why would he do the horrible things he’s done? Why would he break Dream out of prison, knowing full well how awful Dream was to him? Techno knew Dream killed him, didn’t he? Ranboo had said he’d told Techno.
So Tommy knows that their friendship is one-sided. He knows that Techno doesn’t think of them as brothers. He knows that Techno hates him.
(So why is there a hand-crafted prosthetic on his leg, and why is he being shielded from the snow? It makes his head hurt. He hates it.)
He holds his breath for the upcoming yes. He nearly chokes on it when Technoblade says no instead.
“Is that really what you thought?” Techno asks him, the loose strands of his hair that have slipped from his braid smacking him in the face. It probably stings. Tommy knows that the cold air on his cheeks stings. “You really think that I think so little of you.”
“What else am I supposed to think, Technoblade? You would’ve given me up to Dream. You- you hid me from him, and you still would’ve given me back? How does that make any sense?!” Tommy feels like he’s grasping at straws. He feels like he’s finally stepping off that cliff over the lava, only to turn at the last minute and grapple for the ledge.
“I owed him a favor-”
Tommy definitely doesn’t sob when he opens his mouth next. His breath doesn’t punch out of his chest when he tries to speak, and his face doesn’t crumble, and he doesn’t fold in on himself even more. “You were supposed to be my friend, Techno!” He grabs for Techno’s shirt, fisting his hands in the fabric and trying to shake the mountain of a man. He doesn’t succeed, but he tries. “Dream ruined me, and you were gonna give me back?!”
“If he’d asked me to, yes.” Techno looks like he hates himself for having to answer, but Tommy knows he’d still answer the same even without the truth potion. He’s not stupid. He knows who Techno is.
“How does that-”
“You were supposed to be my friend, too, Tommy,” Techno snaps, face pulled into a snarl as he stares down at him. “You betrayed me just as much as you apparently think I did you.”
It feels like all the fight is pouring off Tommy’s shoulders and settling somewhere in the pit of his stomach or the soles of his feet. He lets his forehead thump against Techno’s chest, and with his face no longer visible, Tommy lets himself cry. Only a little bit. He’ll only mourn for a little while.
There’s a difference between knowing something and then having it confirmed. Tommy liked it better when he could still pretend sometimes that Techno wouldn’t have given him back. He shouldn’t have come here.
Technoblade doesn’t push him away. It’s just the two of them in the snow, perfectly silent against the howling wind. Techno’s torso rises with every breath he takes.
“Did you ever care about me at all?” Tommy asks, and for a moment, he’s afraid Techno didn’t hear him. If he didn’t hear him, the stupid truth potion won’t work, and Tommy will have to ask again. He doesn’t think he has the strength to ask again.
He waits for the no. He wants him to say no because if he says no, it would make sense. Someone who cares about Tommy wouldn’t give him back to Dream. Someone who cares about Tommy wouldn’t break Dream out of prison.
“Yes,” Techno chokes, and he really must have tried to keep that one under wraps if it actually sounds like it hurt him when the potion forced it out.
“Did you care about me when you offered to give me back?”
Again, he gets a yes. It doesn’t make any sense.
Tommy tries not to let his mind get too jumbled, but it’s too late for that. He’s all out of sorts right now. He misses when things were easy. He misses the beginning of Pogtopia when it was just him and Wilbur and things weren’t terrible even if they also weren’t good. He misses when he could pretend he had a family that loved him.
“You should leave, Tommy,” Techno tells him after a long time, but they’re both standing still. Tommy doesn’t step away and Techno doesn’t push him. Maybe it’s reminiscent of when Tommy was still sick and in pain, crowding close to the most comfortable heat source his delirious mind could find. Maybe it’s nice to pretend for just a second more.
After what could be an eternity, Tommy leans back. He keeps his grip on Techno’s shirt, and he does his best to catch the older man’s eye. “When everything goes up in flames, are you going to side with me? Or are you going to side with Dream?”
Technoblade can claim to care about him all he wants. He can say what he wants—although really, he can’t, not with this cursed truth potion in his system—but Tommy knows what happens if Techno doesn’t choose him. Phil won’t keep protecting him if Techno chooses Dream. All Tommy will have is Quackity and Wilbur, and Wilbur still thinks Dream is his hero. Wilbur still doesn’t know.
Tommy doesn’t want to tell him. He just. wants people to know. He wants the people that know to choose him. He wants the ones that don’t to trust him when he says Dream is bad. He doesn’t understand why everything is so messy.
Techno looks like he’s struggling, gaze flicking back and forth between Tommy’s eyes and the scar that covers so much of his face. Dream put that scar there. Techno broke him out of prison.
“Me or Dream, Technoblade.”
“It depends on what will benefit me more,” Techno says, and this time Tommy really does sob. There’s his answer. There’s his fucking answer.
He tucks himself in again, forehead tucked against a beating heart as his shoulders shake. Techno puts a hand on the back of his neck, and Tommy tries not to think about the last time someone touched his neck. He just cries as quietly as he can, hating himself for the vulnerability he shows. Hating Technoblade for being exactly as he’s always been even more.
“I think your definition of caring about people is a little skewed, big man.” It’s garbled when it comes out, but at least it’s out there. At least Tommy actually managed to say it this time. He sniffles on reflex, finally stepping away from Techno and rolling his shoulder to rub away the feeling of Techno’s hand on his neck. Tommy shakes himself once, twice, and then steps back even further.
Techno doesn’t say anything. Tommy doesn’t know why he expected him to.
When they part ways, Tommy pretends he can’t feel Techno’s eyes on his back. He slips through the Nether with fear crawling all over him, jumping at every sound, twitching at every shadow. When Ghostboo joins him on his walk, he slips behind the ghost every time he’s startled.
Tommy hides in Tubbo’s old house, barricaded in the attic while Sam Nook stands outside. Sapnap will come to check on him soon, maybe.
He doesn’t think about the answers he’s gotten. He knows he would have been happier if he’d just let himself keep pretending, but when has he ever let something that makes him happy continue? That doesn’t sound very self-destructive of him. That doesn’t fit his brand.
Wilbur said they were brothers, and Phil was the dad. Tommy doesn’t want to be a family anymore.