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Chapter Text

It was only when Tommy heard the damning sound of the front door gently sliding shut behind him, that the reality of the situation fully hit. 

Without a word, he wrenched himself out of the hold, willing his trembling legs to carry him a few stumbling steps as far away from his sire as he could possible get. It’s not far by any stretch of the imagination, but Tommy knew that the message got across when all he hears is the slightly exasperated sigh from behind him. 

”I was hoping I’d have time to brew us some tea.” Philza spoke in a light voice, as if this was a time for pleasantries. 

Fuck your tea, Tommy thought to himself with such virulent fury that his muscles tensed up. Some basic, distinctly human urge for once rearing its head to promote nothing but mindless violence. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying against all odds to keep calm. Even if every part of him wanted nothing more than to grab ahold of his sire and shake some sense into the egoistical tyrant who had just signed the death warrant of hundreds of innocents for nothing. 

”Fuck you,” Tommy whispered, too angry to formulate anything more eloquent. ”Fuck you, and your petty—” 

”Hush.” Philza’s voice brook no argument, and despite Tommy’s searing frustration, despite the mountains of reasons against it, he found himself obeying. Philza’s eyes were… Not cold. Not like they’d been in that sickening place. But Tommy wasn’t dumb enough to kid himself into believing that the dull gleam reflected in the ruby red irises was anything near pleased. 

”At least take a seat,” Philza beckoned in a smooth voice, still upholding the image of indifference. And it wasn’t for the first time that Tommy wished his glare could kill. 

The silence stretched out, neither party willing to budge as the apartment remained eerily still around them. Like a tomb. 

Tommy dispelled the unwanted imagery as quickly as it’d appeared, desperately trying to avoid thinking of the inn-keeper, the fucking speech, and the horrifying realization that the building he was standing in. Had soundly slept, and fed and sought safety in, was one built on the foundation of who knows how many tortured victims. 

Knowing that he’d been walking and screwing around so carelessly in that horrid place, on top of those horrifying fucking cells, made him almost miss being able to throw up. Anything to get rid of the festering nausea that hadn’t left ever since he’d seen the stone close in around the thrashing body, since the muffled screams had been buried beneath layers of concrete. 

He didn’t bother looking up as he heard the soft approaching footsteps, and merely turned away from the outstretched palm reaching towards his cheek, a useless offer of comfort that Tommy would rather spit on than accept. 

”So angry,” Philza murmured softly, a thumb gently sweeping away a stray tear even as Tommy stubbornly looked away. ”Such an angry child of mine.” 

”You had no right.” Tommy insisted through gritted teeth. ”No right.” 

Philza’s smile turned glacial. 

”On the contrary,” He began, voice smooth like poisoned honey. ”I had every right.” 

Tommy turned to look at him with a teary eyed glare. 

”You should’ve killed him,” he hissed. ”If you weren’t going to let him go, and you weren’t going to accept that I’m fine, I lived. Then you should’ve at least put him out of his misery, not—” Tommy’s words fell silent, the budding rant dying on his lips as he looked straight into the face of death. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, like the fur on a bristling cat— and Tommy was sure, so sure that this was how he’d die— with this cold, terrifying expression being the last thing he’d ever see.

”We’ve had this discussion before.” Philza spoke in a tone so frigid, so furious, that Tommy felt all bravery, all righteous anger, leave his body like air after a sucker punch. ”Do I need to remind you of how that went?”

Tommy couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. 

Red eyes slid shut, dispelling the invisible pressure that had for a moment been so suffocating that Tommy thought he was going to get crushed. He let out a staggering gasp, choking on the air in his hurry to ease the strain in his lugns as he both felt and saw the vampire slowly exhale. The hands that had been itching closer and closer to his face retreated, coming to rest on his shoulders as if his sire just needed a reminder that he was there, within reach. Tommy listened to his own painstaking gasps for air, as he felt the existential terror slowly unlatch its claws one by one. And by the time he’s almost back to normal, his sire has managed to visibly pull himself together with a deep inhale, filling dead lugns with air that he would never need. 

”I’ve been tolerant.” Philza eventually spoke up again as he slowly opened his eyes to look at Tommy with such intensity that he couldn’t turn away. ”I’ve been patient and understanding. I’ve let them stumble and misstep as they slowly adjusted to the new order of things.” 

Red eyes flashed, molten rage that felt older than Tommy, sparkling to life before quickly sizzling out. 

”But it’s been years. Decades even. And it’s gotten quite evident that nothing has been learned. Every new transgression is worse than the previous, every power tripping provocation more and more insulting, but this?” Philza laughed. Freezing cold, and horribly, horribly cruel. ”They’ve been practically hounding me for a reaction. It’s about time I give them what they so clearly desire.” 

”It was just one man,” Tommy whispered pleadingly. ”And— and I’m fine! I don’t want a fucking war in my honor just because of some—.”

”Child,” Philza crooned softly, with enough warmth for Tommy to pause. ”It’s always just one man backed by a few others. And in this case, just one man would’ve been enough to rob me of you forever.” 

And Tommy… Tommy didn’t know what to say to that. He opened and closed his mouth, willing something, anything that somewhat resembled a response to come out. But there was just nothing. Just his sire’s patient gaze, once again filled with warmth and… Something else. Along with the affectionate brush of knuckles against his cheek, as soft and featherlight as freshly fallen snow. 

”There will be a war,” Philza spoke in a voice so gentle that Tommy could almost convince himself that he was mishearing. Struggling to string the tone and words together when it all felt so disconnected and wrong. 

”You can’t.” Tommy protested weakly as he tiredly dragged a palm over his face. ”You— do you have any idea what that would mean?” 

Philza’s smile was positively predatory. 

”I’m not human enough for something like this to bother me, mate.” 

’Not human enough’. Right. 

”Right and wrong isn’t about being human.” Tommy spat. ”You have the choice to not ruin who knows many lives, and you’re choosing wrong.” 

”Fear is the mother of morality,” was all Tommy got in response. Each word practically dripping with satisfaction. ”And I can promise you that the boundaries of morality has changed, many, many times over throughout the ages. Besides,” the smile sent Tommy’s way was positively scathing. ”One could argue that the morally right thing to do would be to exterminate the changeling murderers before they inevitably strike again.” 

”Two wrongs don’t make a right.” Tommy argued weakly, despite knowing that it was useless. There had already been talks of war, that much he had understood from that disastrous meeting. All the Angel of Death’s inclusion would really mean was that it’d end a lot sooner and brutal than otherwise. 

”I’m not overly concerned with others perception of right and wrong. And truthfully, neither are you.” 

Tommy’s head flung up. He stared at his sire with a mixture of disgust and betrayal, as he bared his slightly pointed teeth in a furious snarl. 

”Don’t you dare—” Tommy begun, low and threatening as he took a step forward. His sire didn’t even twitch, he only calmly watched Tommy’s approach with the same steady confidence he always wore wrapped around him like a cloak. 

”Don’t kid yourself.” Philza practically purred. ”I know you’ve stood aside as the Hunters did whatever they desired to their troops. I know you’ve been part of the little groups sent to terrify families into giving up their children for a cause that only leads to a painful and ultimately needless death. All to protect yourself and what you considered yours.” 

Tommy didn’t answer. He couldn’t, not when his throat felt like it was closing up at the wave of unadulterated shame that washed over him. Because no matter how he had tried to excuse it, avoid it, it was true. 

”I didn’t have a choice,” he tried to weakly defend himself, hating the tremor and clenching in his chest that revealed the words to be the lie he knew them to be. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the cowardice even as he shamelessly wallowed in it. 

”You did.” Philza’s words weren’t condemning, and yet Tommy didn’t think that he’d ever felt as accused in his life. ”And I’m glad you went with the choice that brought you to me.” 

There was an exhale and the next thing Tommy knew was the weight of familiar arms settling around him. He made no move to protest, other than the initial tense up, as he was brought close to a stone hard chest. Listlessly, Tommy let his head rest against a collarbone, having grown so familiar with the position that tucking his head into the crook of vampire’s neck had become almost instinctual. He felt his eyes clench shut as the words rung in his ears, along with the sounds of needlessly broken doors and desperate pleadings of relatives who could in the end only watch as their sons and daughters wordlessly left. Surrounded by so many other young men and women who just didn’t have the strength to attempt what their children had tried. 

With his eyes closed, everything else just felt so much more intense. The soft fabric beneath his cheek, and the steady pressure of arms wound close around him, stood out like the light from a lighthouse amidst a raging storm. Everything else was too much, but somehow the presence of the one being who had inadvertently, and in some cases, outright, been the source of all his troubles, was now the one single steadfast anchor for Tommy to cling to. 

Almost unwittingly, Tommy felt the itchy sensation of wet lashes parting as he emptily stared out from the security of his sire’s arms. Still the same perfect, expensive, penthouse. Still the same foyer he’d walked through with Wilbur just an hour or so ago. And despite everything, it was still the same, traitorously comforting nest.

”There’s a lot of things I’d like to talk with you about,” Philza commented softly as his fingers began to card through Tommy’s hair, expertly unwinding some of the stubborn knots. ”Some things that I wish we had the time to fully get to the bottom of, but I’m afraid there’s no time.” 

What? 

Sensing Tommy’s suddenly uncertainty, Philza only pulled him closer. As if to combat the sudden tension that left Tommy stiff as a board in his arms. 

”I’m not happy about it,” Philza continued, sounding almost careful, ”but I can’t have you here unguarded when you’ve already been targeted.” 

The arms around Tommy tightened their hold, offering a comforting squeeze.  

”Rooting out the ones to blame for this mess won’t take long. Less than a month, no more than that, I promise.” 

”You’re sending me away.” 

The words were damning, a realization Tommy had been tethering on since Philza had first broached the topic. Dancing around words that weren’t any more comforting just because they had been carefully picked. He should be happy, Tommy realized distantly. A single silver of sanity fighting against the sudden surge of emotions he didn’t want to touch with a ten feet pole. He should be happy. Happy because he’d be way from them, happy because finally he’d be free—  

”Oh, child-” 

No, Tommy wasn’t anyone’s fucking child. Fruitlessly, he tried to wrench himself out of the hold, but Philza’s grip was unyielding. And despite knowing that there was no chance that he’d be able to break free from it, Tommy wedged is hands between them and pushed. In response, Philza merely shifted his hold, and unwound one of the arms wrapped around Tommy’s back to place a palm against nape. Pressing until Tommy was once again fully tucked under his chin, like a resisting puzzle-piece slotting into place. 

Powerless, Tommy squirmed in the hold as he uselessly kicked at the ancient’s legs, eyes squeezed shut. The fabric pressed against his face was wet, but Tommy paid it no mind as he continued to fight. Something furious burning in his gut even if it felt like his throat was closing up and—

Tommy pinched his lips shut, but there was no stopping the gasping sob bubbling up his throat. Philza was trying to shush him, muttering platitudes into his hair. All empty sounding and wrong. He didn’t know why he was crying, why he was struggling, when this was an opportunity he couldn’t turn down. When escape finally seemed possible for the first time since the Dark Auction. 

He should be happy. 

”I’ll never let you go,” Philza attempted to placate. ”You’ll always be my son, there will never be any backing out of that for either of us. But I refuse to keep you amidst a potential war zone.” 

Tommy only snarled in response. 

”Let go—!” 

”Never,” Philza replied instantly. But it was a lie, and Tommy was so fucking tired of all these lies. 

”You’re a liar.” Tommy whispered. ”And horrible, and a fucking monster, and I—” Hate you.

”I know.” Philza only murmured in response, pressing a kiss onto the top of Tommy’s head as if none of Tommy’s words mattered. As if he could magically make everything better by just holding on. ”You have all the right to be mad at me for failing you.” The arm keeping Tommy pinned shifted, and Tommy couldn’t help the pained whine when a palm pressed against the scar, as if to apply pressure to the already healed wound.

”But I won’t risk you again.” 

”You might as well let me go then.” Tommy said emotionlessly. ”I’m not some fucking baggage for you to ship around whenever it pleases you.”

”Of course not.” Philza replied in a tone that was clearly meant to sound casual, but whose delivery ended up dead on arrival due to the underlying iron. He wasn’t happy, and Tommy couldn’t decide if his attempt at hiding it infuriated or thrilled him more. ”But you are my youngest son. A child, my child. You can hate and curse me all you like, but that will never change. And though I admit that my track-record hasn’t been spotless, especially as of late… I do take care of, and treasure, my children.” 

”This isn’t care.” 

The arms around Tommy eased up, but before he could take the opportunity to wrench himself free, they returned. Cold palms pressed against his cheeks, cupping his face as a thumb gently wiped away the lingering wetness clinging to his lashes. The hands angled his head backwards, until he had no choice but to look up. The expression on Philza’s face was a new one. 

Something unsure and anxious twisted in Tommy’s stomach, and despite knowing that he himself must look like a wreck, he couldn’t help but focus on how downcast the ancient looked. For the first time that Tommy could remember, genuine sadness softened the otherwise cold features. This was uncharted territory, and the simmering fury that had been the ancient’s ever-present companion since Tommy got hurt, was gone. And without it for Tommy to latch onto, to ground himself with, he felt infinitely smaller and vulnerable. Because all of the sudden, it stopped being about the war, about the Organisation and their roundabout attempted murder of the Angel of Death’s changeling, and instead, became very, very personal. 

”I’m your father.” Philza said softly. ”Caring for you and your brothers comes before anything else. Even my own desires. This isn’t abandonment, I’m not letting you go, but you’re young and I can’t both protect you and put an end to this without risking you getting stolen from me.” 

Philza’s eyes were unwavering and full of emotion that Tommy refused to scrutinize. The switch up from the vampire’s normally so guarded front was disorienting, and Tommy found himself looking away first, his chest, painfully tight. The hands lingered, but Philza made no move to force further eye-contact, and instead pulled Tommy close again. This time, Tommy allowed himself to be engulfed in the hold without struggling, but still stubbornly remained stiff. Willing his body-language to convey all the words that had turned to ash on his tongue. Except for…

”When are you doing it?” Tommy asked after a moment as he wound his fingers around his cardigan’s fabric. Pressed as close to Philza as he was, Tommy felt the subtle stiffening of his sire’s limbs. 

”… Not immediately,” Philza began cautiously. ”I’ll try my best to delay everything until you’re no longer reliant on my blood. But if that fails then I’ll send the last of the supply with you.” 

A trembling exhale left Tommy’s mouth, and against his will a small, nagging sense of trepidation begun to tug at his mind. Dread curled in his stomach, and Tommy… suddenly felt out of his depth. 

”Where am I going?” He asked tensely as he begun to pull away. ”You never said where I’d be going.” 

The sadness still lingered in Philza’s expression but it had definitely been sidelined in favored of careful neutrality. 

Had he had a bit more energy, a bit more strength, Tommy might’ve laughed. Instead, all he could do was stare at Philza with disbelief. 

He should’ve fucking figured. 

”You’re sending me out of the country.” 

Philza didn’t smile, but there was a softness to his eyes that enraged Tommy something fierce. 

”This was always the plan. I’m just moving up some things.” 

A short laugh bubbled up Tommy’s throat despite everything, completely devoid of any actual joy. 

”Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He questioned harshly. ”How long have you been planning this for?” 

”Leaving was always the plan. I just hoped we could linger a bit longer for your sake.” 

The admittance was like a boulder tumbling into a still lake, ruining the calm surface and sending ripples of pure agony that washed over Tommy who was left frozen in its wake. 

”This isn’t our home.” Philza said, as if to try and belatedly soften the blow. ”The original plan was to move back away from human civilisation once we were sure that the treaty would hold.” There was an angry spark to Philza’s gaze, but as he met Tommy’s eyes, they quickly cooled into something apologetic. ”We were going to stay longer than initially intended, for you. But I can’t risk you.” He said again, as if repeating it would help the meaning sink into Tommy’s head quicker. 

Even the thought of leaving his city was daunting, but manageable with Tubbo’s hand in his. But the country? Tommy nervously wet his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Scotland was one thing, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch geographically… And truthfully, he hadn’t put much thought into his escape plan beyond it being just that, an escape. 

”Where?” He forced out through gritted teeth, and despite refusing to open his eyes and look at his sire, he could feel the other’s searching gaze on him. 

”North of Europe,” Philza replied softly. ”Closer to one of the communities we’re associated with, where it’s safe.” 

Tommy exhaled, eyes still closed. 

”It’ll be a month at most,” Philza promised. ”Techno and I will call every day, and then we’ll join you.” 

Tommy opened his eyes. 

”What about Wilbur?” 

Philza blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question before his expression softened into something warmer, a small smile quirking his lips.

”He’ll accompany you, of course.” He reassured, unaware of the bone-melting relief that unexpectedly washed over Tommy. It took everything not to stumble, and for a moment Tommy almost felt okay, before icy fear froze the blood in his veins. This… wasn’t something to be relieved over. Gods. 

”Is it really alright?” He asked in an uneven voice in an attempt to deflect the focus onto something else. ”Don’t you need his ability?” 

Philza hummed, as if the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind despite Tommy knowing for sure that it must’ve. 

”Not particularly,” the ancient replied after a moment. ”Besides, much like you he’s ill-suited for this. I’ll be more assured knowing the two of you are far away from here once it comes to it.” 

Okay, this was… manageable. Maybe. The only thing was—

”And Tubbo?” Tommy asked in a small voice, a silver of true terror coloring it. Philza’s expression turned slightly complicated, and just when Tommy felt his heart drop to his stomach did the ancient open his mouth to speak. 

”Schlatt has made the decision to stay mostly out of the oncoming war with his changeling in mind.” Philza began carefully. ”I cannot guarantee that he and his son will chose to come to Europe given his roots, but—” he quickly added as Tommy’s expression turned crestfallen. ”I will extend an invitation. I won’t force him to accept it, but I promise that the two of you will be able to stay in touch, even if it’s not physically.” 

Tommy looked away, feeling as if he had something stuck in his throat. It wasn’t much, not by a long shot, but it was something. He felt his stomach twist and tiredly closed his eyes. Gods, what a mess. He’d have to call Tubbo, and… conduct something vaguely plan-shaped. As well as figure out what the fuck to do about these traitorous emotions. 

The hand on his shoulder gave a light tug, and feeling all scoped out like he did, Tommy offered no protest when he was gently pulled towards the sitting area. It felt like his legs had turned to jello, the exhaustion that had been on the back burner since Wilbur had woken him up suddenly on the forefront of his mind. He willingly sank down on the couch before Philza could prompt him, and immediately moved to lie on his side. He wasn’t going to sleep, he was too emotionally wrung out to slip away into oblivion, but he could at least allow himself to shut down, even for just a moment. 

The shifting of fabric alerted him of Philza’s movements, but Tommy suspected that even if it hadn’t, he still wouldn’t have twitched at the feeling of a hand reaching out to caress his head. He was still mad, and horrified, and maybe a bit devastated, but there was something warm and comforting in being tended to so casually. But it didn’t mean that he wasn’t pissed, and so he peeled his eyes open enough to land Philza with as good of a glare as he could muster.  

”I’m sorry, it was a lot to put on you all at once.” The vampire murmured in a warm voice, as if he could tell what Tommy was thinking. A sudden thought crossed his mind, and Tommy frowned at the realization. 

”Tubbo.” 

There was an amused laugh, and then the slightly rougher feeling of his hair being ruffled. 

”Not today,” Philza affectionately shot down, ”and most likely not tomorrow, but perhaps the day after that.” 

Tommy hummed and contentedly shut his eyes. It was probably for the better, and this way he’d have time to think. Something sour twisted in his stomach but Tommy stubbornly ignored it. His daily quota for dread filled horror had been filled and grossly overshoot as it was. Any more thinking would have to wait for another day. 

The petting resumed, and Tommy wished he could pretend it wasn’t nice. 

”Your brothers will be up in a bit.” Philza informed him. ”I’ll have to step out for a moment, but then I’ll stay with you for the rest of today and all of tomorrow.” 

Tommy hummed uncommittedly. 

As if on cue, Tommy could hear the front door open with a muted sound, followed by approaching footsteps.  

”How did it go?” Wilbur’s voice rang out, and Tommy opened his eyes with sigh. Fully giving up on the brief break he’d allowed himself. 

”About as expected.” Philza replied vaguely as he watched Tommy pull himself up in a sitting position. Tommy grimaced. Figures that the bastards knew. The sofa dipped beside him, but Tommy didn’t offer the vampire as much as a glance, choosing to stubbornly stare at Philza who evenly held his gaze. 

”So, not great,” Wilbur concluded. A small smile tugged at the corner of Philza’s lips in response, and Tommy immediately turned his tired stare into a glare. Daring the ancient to laugh. 

”I’d say it went considerably well, given the situation.” Philza neutrally offered. 

”I’m right here.” Tommy grumbled unhappily. The cheerful mood was ill-fitting, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the nest and pretend like nothing was wrong for an hour or two. 

”Don’t fight.” Philza chided without bite, as he rose to a standing position. ”And be gentle, he’s tired.” 

Tommy opened his mouth, ready to shoot a scathing reply in Philza’s general direction but froze as hands hooked under his arms. The touch was unexpected, and so Tommy’s only reaction at being lifted clean off the couch was to freeze up. He was maneuvered in the air, and before he could fully comprehend the situation he found himself pressed against a shoulder with a single muscular arm supporting his weight. Tommy offered Techno a wide-eyed look but kept quiet as he scrambled to get some semblance of a grip. 

Wilbur let out a noise of protest.

”I’m not having you both nod off here.” Techno responded shortly. ”Get up.” 

Philza chuckled, for once looking almost peaceful as he openly eyed Techno and Tommy with unashamed joy. 

”I’ll be quick.” He promised, offering Tommy a smile before he turned to Wilbur who was busy glaring at Techno with an exaggerated pout. He reached out to lightly ruffle Wilbur’s hair, before fully pulling away and moving towards the staircase, one hand already reaching into his pockets for a phone. 

Tommy watched Philza disappear up the steps with a complicated expression before the sudden shift beneath him jostled him out of his distracted thoughts. The scenery shifted as Techno turned, and Tommy scrambled for better purchase against the vampire’s shoulder with a startled hiss. There was zero chance that Techno would just drop him, no matter how precarious the grip seemed, but that didn’t mean that the instinctual fear wasn’t there. Mercifully, Techno didn’t acknowledge Tommy’s fumbling, and instead turned to Wilbur who was eyeing them over the edge of the couch. Eyes slitted like a cat lurking on its prey. 

It was only because Tommy was so close that he picked up on the almost inaudible sigh from the older vampire, but before he could angle himself into a better position, Techno turned. The scenery swung, and the sitting area with the covered windows disappeared in favor of the corridor that lead to the nest. Behind them, Tommy could hear Wilbur’s slighted squawk and the rustle of clothes as the vampire no doubt vacated the couch. 

”Can I trust you to walk on your own?” 

Tommy blinked, and turned to face Techno, unsurprised to find that the vampire was already studying him with his normal visage of pure apathy. Tommy frowned. 

”I can walk.” He replied shortly, offended by the implication that he couldn’t. 

If Techno picked up on his unhappiness, then he didn’t show it. Instead he leaned to the side, low enough that Tommy didn’t have to fumble for a proper foothold. Wordlessly, Tommy accepted the assistance. Allowing the vampire’s arm to stabilize him. 

”Good,” Techno commented shortly as he pulled himself up to his full height, throwing a glance over his shoulder. ”I’d ask you the same, but I already know the answer.” 

A breathy huff from behind him was the only warning Tommy got before a slender arm loosely wrapped itself around his shoulders, followed by a knee-buckling weight that instantly eased up into something manageable at Techno’s low growl. 

”Mean, meannoblade.” Wilbur grumbled childishly and Tommy felt viciously validated when Techno rolled his eyes in response. ”I’m not worse than the child.” 

”Dealing with you is like herding cats.” Techno deadpanned mercilessly, to which Wilbur only whined in response. 

More than fed-up with the situation, Tommy begun to clumsily dislodge the octopus like hold. He was tired and listening to Wilbur’s melodramatics was definitely up there on the long list of things he did not want to do. Much to his surprise, Wilbur’s grip slipped away without protest, and curiously, Tommy chanced a glance over his shoulder. The vampire wasn’t looking at him, instead he was staring at Techno with a carefully neutral expression. A stark contrast to the his otherwise highly expressive demeanor. Techno met the stare without as much as a twitch to betray his thoughts. And despite the fact that neither were saying anything, Tommy suddenly felt out of place. Like he was an outsider to a conversation he could neither understand nor participate in. 

After a moment, Wilbur looked away, breaking the strange tension. Cautiously, Tommy glanced between the two, but no matter how he looked at it, there was just nothing to grasp onto and analyze, until the almost unnoticeable tension in Techno’s shoulders let up. 

”Give me a moment to change. I’ll be right back after.” Techno said, breaking the silence. 

The words didn’t make much sense to Tommy, but clearly some sort of concession had been made, judging by the stiff inclination of Wilbur’s head. He frowned, unsure if he should insist on an explanation of if it’d be better to just this once, let it go. The decision was made for him as Wilbur curtly began to usher him towards the nest. Taken off guard, Tommy took a couple of stumbling steps forwards before managing to steady himself.

Techno lingered, wordlessly watching as Wilbur and Tommy continued forward towards the nest, and while a part of Tommy thought it was overkill to be supervised to that degree, there was also something deeply reassuring. He swallowed, firmly turning to face forward again, just in time to catch Wilbur pressing down on the handle and opening the door. The door swung open, and Tommy almost melted at the sight of the bed, filled to the brim with pillows and blankets that he knew from experience were soft to the touch and the perfect amount of fluff. Suddenly, the urge to fall face first onto the bed was overwhelming, and being more than a little enchanted by the idea, Tommy pushed away from Wilbur and then he was off. Stumbling in all his uncoordinated grace towards the bed, kicking off the slippers as he went. 

Falling onto the bed was just like imagined, and Tommy seriously considered just going boneless there and then, even with his legs hanging out over the bed’s edge. There was a muffled laugh that Tommy refused to acknowledge, accompanied by feeling of something tugging at his legs. 

He hissed, but Wilbur only let out an amused huff in response as he heaved Tommy’s legs onto the bed. Tommy frowned, it was admittedly nicer to lie on the bed with his whole body… Maybe Wilbur wasn’t as horrible as he thought. 

The Inn-keeper’s face flashed before his closed eyes, and Tommy immediately felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He opened his eyes to the field of pillows and focused on taking deep breaths. Gods, did they really think he’d just be able to continue on like normal knowing about the endless torture going on beneath his feet? He winced. Knowing them? Yes, and if Philza had made one thing clear tonight it was that he was not willing to yield beyond what he’d already done. 

Tommy let out a bone-rattling exhale, trying to push the entire cluster-fuck to the side. He just wanted one day without something horrible happening.

”What are you sighing over?” 

Tommy looked up, unsurprised to find Wilbur stretched out over the bed, watching him with rapt attention. There was probably a hundred things he could say in response, and another hundred things he could start a shouting match over but… he was tired. The little amount of energy and spirit he had regained over the two days of healing had been spent long before his fight with Philza, and now there was just nothing left. But it was clear that Wilbur was expecting an answer and so Tommy chose what he hoped wouldn’t incite any more arguments. 

”Did you know?” He asked. ”That we’d be sent away?” 

”Yes,” Wilbur instantly replied in a soft voice. ”Are you upset?” 

Tommy frowned, ignoring the twinge of… Something in his chest. He wasn’t. He was happy.

”No,” he said sharply, and then, feeling only slightly cruel, shot back. ”Are you?” 

”A bit,” Wilbur said breezily as he closed his eyes. Tommy froze. 

”Really?” Tommy whispered, all his indignation gone in a flash as something cold filled his chest. 

”It’ll be the first time I’m without them since I was fifteen.” Wilbur admitted under his breath. 

Oh. 

Tommy swallowed, thinking back on the strange scene from earlier. Belatedly, the realization that he wouldn’t be the only one sent away fully set in, along with the understanding that maybe… Wilbur would actually miss them. He nervously wet his lips. He wanted to know more. 

”Are you mad?” The words slipped out unbridled, and for a moment Tommy felt ashamed for wanting to pry, for needing to hear what Wilbur, who loved Philza and Techno, was thinking and feeling. Wilbur’s eyes opened, and all at once, the buzzing thoughts in Tommy’s head fell silent. The gaze was scrutinizing, but Wilbur must’ve found whatever he was looking for, because between one blink and other the look was gone. Replaced by a perfect neutrality that couldn’t be anything else but fake. 

”Maybe,” Wilbur hummed. ”I’m mad that it got to this point, that there’s a need for us to separate at all…” His gaze sharpened. ”But I’m not mad at them for doing what is necessary.” 

”What if they leave you?” Tommy snapped his mouth shut with a click, but knew it was too late as the last word slipped past his lips. Wilbur was watching him, the cat-like pupils in his eyes paper thin. Desperately, Tommy wished he could take the words back, that he never put the conversation on this path. He opened his mouth, prepared to scramble in an effort to retract the question but froze as Wilbur spoke up. 

”They wouldn’t.” 

But how do you know? Tommy wanted to ask, wanted to know so badly how Wilbur could possibly know, but no. The conversation had been a bad idea from the start, and he refused to further catapult it into disaster. Pointedly, Tommy burrowed his face into the nearest pillow, turning his back on Wilbur who was a silent spectator. 

The silence stretched out, and Tommy had almost begun to believe that he might’ve actually made it out of the conversation unscathed, when lean arms snaked around his waist and pulled. He tensed up, arms stubbornly encircling a pillow as he was dragged into a hug, his back against Wilbur’s chest with the vampire’s breath tickling his ear. 

”They wouldn’t,” Wilbur repeated in an infuriatingly soft voice. ”They love me, and would sooner burn the world to the ground than abandon me.” 

The additional ’just like how they wouldn’t abandon you’ went unvoiced, but Tommy could still hear it ringing in his ears. His breath hitched, suddenly it was hard to swallow around the clump in his throat, and privately he was grateful that he had the pillow the hide in. 

He should’ve never started this conversation. 

The sound of the door opening made Tommy clench his eyes shut, body tensing as if he was bracing for impact. 

”You took a shower.” Wilbur noted sullenly with a hint of accusation. 

”I was quick about it.” Techno’s deep voice deflected breezily, and Tommy subtly relaxed. Wilbur made a sound that clearly indicated what he thought of that, but didn’t say anything else as Techno audibly approached. Fingers carded through his hair, and for a second Tommy was so vividly reminded of Philza that he forgot that he wasn’t there. 

”Scoot.” 

Tommy remained frozen in place, doing his best imitation of a statue as Wilbur clumsily scooted backwards, pulling him along. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the bed dip as Techno sat down. Stubbornly, Tommy kept the pillow squeezed to his chest, but made no other move to protest as he was firmly boxed-in between his two coven-members. If he focused, he could feel the outline of Techno’s ribcage pressed against his forehead and the foreign feeling of Wilbur’s legs being unwittingly entangled with his. Against all better judgment, Tommy could almost say that it was nice. 

Techno was still as statue, old enough to have stopped breathing entirely, even as a habit. But Wilbur was different, and the steady rhythm of his inhales and exhales was a constant pattern that Tommy slowly found himself lost in. In and out, and repeat. 

”Tell me about the house.” Wilbur suddenly demanded. 

Tommy stiffened, but was too tired too properly tense up. 

”The one we’re moving to,” Wilbur added when the silence lingered. 

”… It’s big.” Techno replied after a moment, to which Wilbur huffed exasperatedly at. 

”You’ll have to go into more detail than that.” 

”You’ve been there.” Techno refuted drily, and Tommy tensed as he felt the weight of an arm settle against his back, taking on the role of a divider between him and Wilbur. Behind him, he felt the younger vampire shift to accommodate the limb. 

”Maybe I forgot.” 

”… It’s by a beach,” Techno began, calm and soothing with that hint of bass that was characteristic for Techno’s voice. 

Tommy listened with rapt attention as the vampire fell into describing the house, painting a vivid image of what sounded closer to a mansion of stone than a humble abode. And reluctantly, sandwiched as he was between the two, he began to picture it. Something dark and opposing straight out of a horror movie at the edge of a steep cliff that overlooked an icy ocean, surrounded by a thick forest that stretched on for miles. He listened as the description shifted focus to the interior, detailing a library full of long-forgotten works, to an attic that housed the coven’s aged belongings, and finally. To the basement, with winding corridors and staircases meticulously carved out of the stone foundation, spiraling downwards into the depths. And then Techno fell silent. 

It took a couple of seconds for Tommy to realize that the droning backdrop had ebbed out into nothing, but before he could subtly shift to check on Techno, the fingers lightly pressed against his flank began to tap, as if along to a beat. 

”He’s really too old for this,” Techno exhaled exasperatedly as the motion stilled, the tips of his fingers burning through the fabric and against Tommy’s skin like a brand. ”But I guess that’s just as well.” 

Cautiously, Tommy pulled away from the flattened pillow and chanced a peek. Techno’s eyes calmly met his gaze, the dark red irides with their slitted pupils stirring up the same type of foreboding tingle as gazing into the abyss. Subtly, Tommy shifted in an attempt to shake off the touch, but all he did was earn himself a warning squeeze. He frowned, having counted on Wilbur to interfere, but a quick glance confirmed the creeping suspicion. Wilbur, the traitor, had fallen asleep. Techno let out an amused huff, and reluctantly, with a healthy dose of trepidation, Tommy turned back to face the ancient. 

”We need to talk, Theseus.” 

No, absolutely fucking not. 

”No,” Tommy repeated childishly as he hid his face again, as if something as simple as a pillow could ever deter the Blood God. The tapping returned, each rap akin to flint striking against flint, sending sparks of pure dread in the form of goosebumps down his back. But Tommy held his ground. He was done talking, he didn’t have the energy or will or anything to give. Every single drop he had in him had been wrung out and now there was just nothing to left to keep him going. Technoblade would have to fucking wait until tomorrow.

”You don’t have to talk,” Techno hummed thoughtfully, as if sensing that Tommy wanted nothing less but still choosing to insist on it. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, and hadn’t the risk of his pillow getting stolen been as significant as it was, he would’ve covered his ears to further drive home the point. ”But at least listen,” Techno finished. 

”I don’t want to.” Tommy replied in a muffled voice. 

”But you need to,” Techno firmly shot back. ”I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to stick around with this war of yours approaching.” 

”You’re horrible,” Tommy sniffled, way past the point of feeling embarrassed by the burning tears.”And it’s not my war. I didn’t want this.”

”Perhaps,” Technoblade mercilessly cut in. ”But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s for you.” 

Tommy felt his lower lip wobble dangerously. 

”I didn’t ask for it!” He burst out. ”You’re the ones who—!” 

The arm that had ’til that point been loosely wrapped around him tightened and Tommy immediately fell silent. After a handful of seconds, the hold let up, and Tommy was once again loosely cradled in the spot next to Techno’s chest, the vampire’s lower arm draped over him in a deceivingly lazy manner.  

”Don’t misunderstand,” Technoblade began cooly. ”The fools who dared to raise their weapons against you sealed their fate all on their own, but your inept sense of self perseverance will cause more trouble than it already has.” Tommy faltered. 

”My—?” 

”I warned you.” Technoblade said harshly, a night and day contrast to his earlier soft-spoken stories. ”Heroes don’t have happy endings for a reason. If you insist on taking on the roll then I’ll gladly ensure you get no opportunity to act it out.”   

”I recall you telling me to suit myself.” Tommy snapped, vaguely remembering that particular conversation, no matter how muddled by pain it’d been. 

”I did.” Techno agreed darkly. ”This is letting you ’suit yourself’. The war Philza declared tonight won’t stop with the Hunters. Each time you chose to stick out your neck someone else’s head will roll.” 

”I’m human.” Tommy whispered, pale from rage. ”I’m not some unfeeling monster, if I can help—” 

”Don’t.” Was harshly whispered into his ear, and Tommy froze. ”At least be somewhat aware of were your decisions lead.” 

”You’re unfair,” Tommy said in a trembling voice. ”You’re— this is unfair. It’s horrible.” 

Technoblade scoffed. 

”I’m so much worse than ’unfair.’” He only replied, sounding almost amused. As if the entire situation wasn’t anything but funny. 

”You’re a nightmare.” Tommy snapped harshly, willing the childish words to hurt. 

Techno only hummed in response, as if he agreed, and it suddenly occurred to Tommy that this might be the vampire’s version of love. Not the doting fatherly type Philza drowned him in. Nor the teasingly indulging type Wilbur forced. But a brutally honest one that would rather burn scorchingly hot and burn acres of forest to ash. 

”He was a friend.” Tommy tried to explain before the lecture-like conversation could fully end. His stomach twisted at the show of vulnerability but strangely enough, he just wanted Technoblade to understand. ”He helped me.” Many times over the years, and at last one final time by the pool. ”Giving him a chance to save his life was the least I could do.” He finished lamely in a voice so soft and small that it almost disappeared entirely.  

”And you got his life,” Techno said almost gently. ”For cheap even. But this pattern will continue if you don’t learn how to keep your head down.” 

Tommy clenched his jaw. 

”You want me to be a coward.” He noted coldly.  

”I’d prefer it if you were a coward,” Techno admitted without hesitation, as if he truly wouldn’t think less of Tommy for it. ”But you’re not, so all I ask of you is learn to pick your battles and how to stay down.” 

Tommy felt as if he’d been transported in time straight back to the alley. Even with his eyes wide open and hyperaware of even the smallest of shifts to the mattress beneath him, he could see the scene as vividly as if he was there. With the blood-drenched street beneath his feet, and his long since healed scrapes and bruises pulsating with fresh pain as Hunters fell all around him like crops to the farmer’s scythe. Technoblade in the midst of it all, a nightmare given flesh telling him to just stay down. Tommy gritted his teeth, and peered up from the drenched pillow to offer Techno the harshest of glares he could muster. Fully ignoring how the teary-eyed look must’ve ruined any hope of intimidation. 

As if to contrast Tommy’s sorry state, Techno looked completely unbothered. There wasn’t a hair out of place despite the lingering dampness from his aforementioned shower, and as usual, his visage revealed nothing except that infuriating air of neutrality. There were so many things Tommy wanted to say, so many more accusations and insults he could practically feel on the tip of his tongue, but it’d all be useless. ’Inhuman’ Philza had called himself, as if that was something to be proud of, and it was clear that he wasn’t the only one in the coven who’d carry the adjective as if it was a badge of honor.

Truthfully, there was nothing Tommy could say that’d make them care. No arguments he could offer that’d make them understand, and nothing in the whole world that’d make them want to. They had their own priorities and rules, and it only became clearer that they fully expected Tommy to sooner or later conform and roll with them. 

He needed to leave. Needed to extract himself out of their well-woven net before he gave in and became something worse than everyone he didn’t want to be. Because if there was one thing that was just as inevitable as that eventuality, it was the fact that the clearly cut lines between him and the changeling was blurring. Each day it became harder to remember that it’s what he wanted, what Tubbo wanted. And that anything that may or may not whisper anything else was the irrefutable proof of the effectiveness of the coven’s manipulations. 

But he couldn’t leave. For now, all he could do was lie low and stay down as Techno so put it, and seize an opportunity when he saw one. And so, knowing that Techno was content with whatever he thought he’d gotten out of it, and Tommy far too tired to bother fighting anymore, the conversation ended with a deep exhale from the changeling, and was sealed in the form of the soothing circles rubbed into his upper arm. The closest thing he’d ever get to a not-apology from the vampire.

Tommy craned his neck and clumsily turned around until he was facing Wilbur, who had somehow remained blissfully asleep throughout the entire thing. Feeling only somewhat vindicated, Tommy shuffled until he had Techno’s arm pinned beneath his head, forcing the limb to fill the role of a pillow while he kept his make-shift shelter stubbornly pressed to this chest. The only reaction from Techno was the momentary pause in his ministrations before they quickly resumed as Tommy fully went limp. 

The urge to sleep was there, or rather, the appealing promise of unconsciousness, but Tommy had somehow gotten so beyond exhausted that he’d found his way back to feeling far too restless for sleep. Leaving him with no other option than to lie perfectly still and pretend. At least Techno was… Not kind, and really not merciful, but still something enough to refrain from calling him out on it. 

The silence reigned absolute, with only Tommy’s soft breathing keeping it from completely filling the room. He focused on breathing, focused on the rhythmic extension of his chest and the sensation of air rushing in and out his lugns. Gods, he just wanted to sleep- 

”Did Phil ever tell you how he found Will?” 

Tommy stiffened at the words, Techno’s sudden conversation starter taking him by surprise, and then the question registered. Wilbur had, hadn’t he? But that felt so long ago and all of the sudden, the idea of lying awake in silence felt suffocating. Subtly, he shook his head, making no move to turn around or properly answer. 

A sigh, soft and deep, the type Techno normally takes right before he starts to speak.  

”It was early spring,” Techno began, ”on a pure technicality. Even some winters back then didn’t get as cold, and it was still very dark…” 

Tommy listened with half an ear, eyes lidded as he let the words wash over him in a lull. It was nice. For all that it was a bitter reminder of how far he’d already fallen. Techno’s voice was perfect for story-telling. Deep and even, and just right for sleepless nights when the weight of the world was crushing. It was enough to put Tommy at ease without fully ridding him off the doubts and regrets, and it was with a bitter realization that he knew that one of said doubts was right. This, for all its awfulness, was truly all he’d ever wanted. 

An hour or so later, long after Techno had once again fallen silent, Philza joined them with his warm voice and soft eyes. Arms sturdy and encompassing as he tucked Tommy against his chest, right next to his unbeating heart, wordlessly coaxing Tommy to close his eyes and drift away. But for the remainder of that day, sleep would evade him. Leaving Tommy to stew in the silence, surrounded by a family that was neither by blood nor choice, but still sickeningly loving.  

The softly spoken conversation between Wilbur and Philza was a distant backdrop to Tommy’s exhausted misery. And despite the numerous attempts to gently coax him into joining in, Tommy felt it fit to linger in his self-imposed state of purgatory as he emptily stared into the cold teacup cradled between his hands.

Wordlessly, he pulled his numb legs up from the ground and tucked them against his chest while he threw the opposing couch a look. Philza, whose overall dignified appearance was ruined by Wilbur lying sprawled across the furniture and their sire’s lap, seemed content to let Tommy be. Keeping up the illusion of being occupied by the book in his hand, a book whose pages Tommy hadn’t heard be turned once since it’d been opened. 

Tommy continued to eye the two, a silent spectator as Wilbur whined every time Philza stopped combing his fingers through the dark locks. The scene was domestic in a way that made something in the pit of his belly curl from how ill-fitting it felt. And while he logically knew that the risk of Philza trying to pressure him into going along with it was almost null, the urge to flee was so present that he almost shook from the barely contained agitation. 

”I want to call Tubbo.” The words were the equivalent of dropping a glass in a room full of people.  

Philza glanced up and calmly met his changeling’s combative stare, looking to the world like a truly untouchable being even as he kept combing through Wilbur’s mess of a hair. The gaze was overall innocuous and gave the same type of impression as that of a tired father indulgently turning away from the newspaper to tend to his spawn. But there was an underlying weight to it, and had the exchange happened less than a week ago, maybe Tommy would’ve buckled beneath it. 

Philza blinked, and almost like magic, the budding tension disappeared as if it’d never been there. 

”Don’t you want to come sit here instead?” The ancient tried, offering a soft smile. ”You can always call him later.” 

Tommy furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. The slight twitch in his fingers that had been a lingering annoyance for the last few hours was beginning to reach the point of intolerable, and there was at this point no energy left to convert into patience. 

”No,” Tommy drawled through gritted teeth, ”I want to call Tubbo.”

Wilbur cast him a rebuking glance that Tommy didn’t acknowledge, and after a second of intense scrutiny, Philza seemed to almost deflate, smile turning slightly sardonic. 

”Very well,” Philza allowed, watching as Tommy stiffly stood up from the couch and immediately moved to make a bee-line towards the nest, only pausing briefly to snag his phone from coffee table. ”But no more than an hour,” he finished as Tommy moved to walk past them. 

The knee-jerk reaction to protest flared up, and it was with great effort that Tommy wrestled it down. Stiffly, he offered a nod before continuing forward, phone pressed to his chest as he listened to Wilbur’s nonsensical complaints. He shut the door behind him, using only slightly more force than absolutely necessary, and without casting the unmade bed as much as a glance, all but ran to the bathroom. Some of the tension that made this entire body feel jittery and a size too small, only easing as the sound of the lock behind him slid shut with a click. 

The exhaustion from forgoing a day’s worth of sleep was weighing heavy, and Tommy felt almost nauseous as he sunk down onto the toilet-lid and decisively pressed the green telephone symbol. Immediately, the screen darkened as the call’s detail’s lit up in white letters that Tommy didn’t offer more than a customary glance, before he pressed the cool screen against his ear. Eyes sliding shut as he listened to even dial tones ring out in rhythmic pulses. 

Less than two dials later, the recognizable sound of the call clicking through could be heard, and Tommy had to fight the urge to burst into exhausted tears then and there. 

”Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice drowsily called out. ”Are you there?” 

”Yeah,” Tommy choked out before he forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath. ”Yeah, it’s me.” For a moment, it was just silence on the other end, the only indicator that the call hadn’t dropped being the almost inaudible sound of shifting fabric. 

”Are you okay? You haven’t picked up,” Tubbo began carefully. ”I got a bit worried that something had happened.” 

”Yeah,” Tommy repeated lamely, unsure how to broach the fact that something had happened, multiple somethings in fact, all horrible. ”It… It kinda did.” The rustling on the other end paused, and Tommy could almost see Tubbo physically straightening up on the other end. He swallowed, the sudden bout of what felt like homesickness stifling. 

”What did?”  

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than the end the subject and move onto something less traumatizing but… Tubbo had said it himself at the pool. He needed to know, and keeping him out of the loop no matter how much Tommy might want to, just wasn’t viable given the circumstances. 

”Philza… He...” He swallowed again. ”He wasn’t happy.” He finished haltingly. 

Tubbo kept silent, a wordless encouragement to keep going. 

”There’s going to be a war,” Tommy whispered, ”against the Organisation.”

There was a soft exhale on the other end, but it wasn’t horrified or surprised or the type of sound someone who just got told absolutely horrifying news would make. Just tired. As if he already- 

”You knew?” Tommy asked, feeling as if he’d gotten his head dunked in cold water and was now left gasping for air. 

”Schlatt told me,” Tubbo admitted in a quiet, but still far too calm voice. ”I can’t say I’m surprised, it feels like every meeting he has parrots the same thing.” There was a bitter twang to the words and although it was clear that Tubbo wasn’t happy, the fact that there wasn’t even a single drop of the same horror-filled shock that sloshed around inside of him, rattled Tommy to the core. 

”…” Tommy opened and closed his mouth but nothing came out, and for a couple of moments all that could be heard was the soft breathing over the microphone and Tommy’s own racing heart. 

”But that’s not why I tried to reach you,” Tubbo continued, seemingly oblivious to Tommy’s silent despair. ”I’ve been thinking...” 

”What?” Tommy whispered as he pressed a palm against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. 

”How did they find us?”  

”We got sold out, remember?” Tommy replied instantly before wincing at the reminder of the Inn-owner, but before his thoughts could spiral even more, a frustrated noise on the other side of the receiver cut in. 

”I’m not talking about then,” Tubbo said brusquely. ”I’m talking about now. How were we instantaneously found after we got transported to the roof?”  

Tommy froze. 

”Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that your… that he showed up when he did, but still.” Tubbo continued to babble in that longwinded way of his, a sure sign that Tubbo was just as exhausted as Tommy.  

”How did they find us…?” Tommy echoed softly as he opened his eyes. Tubbo continued to talk but suddenly it all became incomprehensible background noise, like trying to make sense of words spoken underwater. For a moment, all he could do was blankly stare forwards at the bathroom door, before he reached out with a trembling hand to touch the bracelet still clasped around his wrist. 

Oh. He squeezed his eyes shut again as he pressed his forehead against his knees, a full body shudder racing down every limb. Oh no. 

”Tommy?” Tubbo’s concerned voice piped up from the other end, but Tommy didn’t answer. Too busy trying to keep himself from shattering into a thousand pieces then and there. He should’ve known, should’ve questioned it right from the get go instead of letting his insides get all twisted and bundled.  

”It’s fine,” Tommy lied in a strangled voice as he dragged a palm over his face, wishing that the words were true. ”I think I know how, I’ll fix it.” 

”If you’re sure…” Tubbo allowed dubiously, and Tommy knew without a doubt that if he had sounded just a tad less like shit, he would’ve never gotten Tubbo to back off so easily. For a second, Tommy allowed himself to just breathe, but he knew that the longer he dragged it out, the harder it’d be to push forward with the conversation they needed to have. So it was with great reluctance that he sucked in a deep breath, and pressed out the words that he’d been careful to keep as far back in his mind as possible. 

”He’s sending me away. Me and Wilbur.” 

Tubbo kept quiet. 

”I’m being sent out of the country,” Tommy continued in a harsher tone, upset by the lackluster reaction. ”He’s sending me to some fucking hell hole in Europe.” 

The silence from the other side subsided and more than ever Tommy just wanted to physically reach out to Tubbo and give him a proper shake. Say something, he willed angrily as the seconds trickled by, say anything. There was a soft exhale on the other end, and just like that Tommy knew that whatever was said next wouldn’t be good. 

”I heard.”  

The absentminded leg-bouncing fell still. Tommy… Tommy was too tired for this. 

”Schlatt’s been talking about the states,” Tubbo continued, sound far too unperturbed in Tommy’s opinion. ”It’s where he spent most of his early years as a vampire apparently.” 

”Don’t you care?” Tommy whispered wetly. ”I—we might not get to see each other for who knows how long. How can you just not care?” 

”It’s not that I don’t care,” Tubbo replied defensively, voice just shy of snapping. ”I just think—” 

”Well, it sure sounds like you don’t,” Tommy snapped. ”What have you been doing all this time anyway?” 

Tubbo let out a strangled noise, torn between something that sounded like outrage and frustration. 

”You’re not listening, Tommy.” Tubbo continued. ”I’m trying to tell you, Ranboo and—”  

”Ranboo?” Tommy interrupted, voice a notch too loud. 

”The kid from—”

”I know who he is!” Tommy snapped. ”Why are you bringing him up?”  

”Because he and his guardian came by—” Tubbo began to explain through audibly gritted teeth, already sounding fed up and tired and… Tommy laughed, short and hopeless. 

”Is that it?” He asked angrily. ”You—You’ve been making friends while I was dying?” 

”He’s not a friend,” Tubbo cut off coldly. ”And if you took a fucking moment to listen—”

”THEN WHY ARE YOU MENTIONING HIM!?” Tommy burst out. All his frustration with the situation, with Tubbo who never seemed to want to fight for their friendship and future, and whatever the fuck had been simmering like a pot of stew over an open fire ever since his first argument with Philza, exploded in a mess of contradicting emotions that on their own left him gasping for air, and together made him wish he could crawl under a rock and cry. 

There was another bout of silence, in which neither spoke, and then… 

”You know what,” Tubbo said in a cold voice that trembled from barely contained rage. ”How about you call me back when you’re done being a fucking dick.” 

Hurt washed over him like a rolling wave, and just when Tommy opened his mouth to reply the tell-tale beeps filled his ears, rendering him mute.

Tubbo had hung up. 

For a moment, Tommy just sat there. Phone pressed flush to his wet cheek and mouth still half open. And then a short, hulking sob slipped out unbridled. Immediately, he crammed his mouth shut, desperately trying to hold down the flaring urge to descend into ugly sobs. Tommy stood up, unable to stomach the thought of staying in the bathroom that had just a second ago seemed safe and secure, for another second. Angrily, he rubbed at his burning eyes while he clumsily unlocked the door, desperately ignoring the tremors that turned his limbs into uncoordinated wrecks. 

He stopped in the doorway, and stared with wet eyes at the nest. Somehow, the idea of sinking into it all alone was even more gut wrenching than it had been before the call, and so Tommy looked away. He turned towards the bedroom door, lower lip wobbling dangerously as he weighed his options.  He… He didn’t want to stay in the nest on his own, and he also didn’t want to be the center of anyone’s attentive doting either. 

But he also didn’t want to drown in this mess alone. 

And so he took a wobbling step forward, each step somehow making the burning in his eyes even worse, and pushed the door open. The corridor was empty, and while he knew that Philza and Wilbur were just a bit further ahead, the thought of running to them because Tubbo was being a dick felt like spitting on everything he’d worked so hard and fought for. So instead of continuing his wobbly path forward all the way into the living-room, Tommy pressed down on one of the doorhandles leading to the right and entered. 

Tommy had never been in Techno’s room, and despite having known where it was, had pointedly made a decision not to as much as take a peek. Even now, despite seeing it for the first time, he found himself unsurprised by the lack of a bed or anything that even resembled personal decor. If he had to describe the room, he’d call it a small library. Every wall was covered to the ceiling with shelves that stood fully stocked, the only other pieces of furniture being a floor lamp and a large armchair pushed into right corner. An armchair that was currently occupied by the owner of said room. 

Techno’s eyes met his, and while the he didn’t look surprised to have Tommy invade his space, there was also a notable lack of urgency that his appearance would’ve triggered with the other two. Tommy blinked, trying to aggressively get rid of the building wetness that threatened to overflow, all while Techno silently watched on from his seat, an open book still loosely held in the vampire’s grasp. 

”Tubbo’s being a dick,” Tommy whispered wetly before abruptly falling silent to keep the building sobs from spilling over. Techno watched him closely, as if it to gauge his options. The seconds trickled by, marked by Tommy’s slightly choked breaths, and then silently, Techno extended an arm in a wordless invitation. Tommy just watched, eyes dangerously blank from unshed tears as he firmly sucked in his lower lip to keep it from wobbling. Never had he felt so pathetic, so powerless… but all he could do was hope that it didn’t make him too much of a weakling when he all but stumbled to accept it. 

Knobby knees and sharp elbows mercilessly dug into unyielding flesh as Tommy clumsily settled down, tucking himself against that perfectly sized nook between the bicep the pectoralis major while he unashamedly hid his face in the crook of the vampire’s neck. Techno, to his credit, didn’t even flinch at the jabs, and merely suffered through Tommy’s shifting in silence. The sound of a page turning was like a switch that had Tommy slump into a boneless pile. A wordless sign that Techno wasn’t going to pry, wasn’t going to turn his suffocating attention into needle-sharp pincers that would pull Tommy apart, and force all the tumultuous emotions to the front when all he wanted to do was push them away and forget. But at the same time… 

Experimentally, Tommy shifted until he could peer out at the open book held in Techno’s other hand. The arm loosely curled around the changeling flexed slightly, but other than that, there was no reaction from the vampire. 

”You can’t be mean,” Tommy whispered with the same sense of fragility as a pinky-promise. ”And you can’t snitch.” He added with slightly more force, trying to muster up anything other than exhausted sadness. 

Techno hummed noncommittally, but the pages in the book remained unturned as he dutifully tipped it back. The seconds dragged out as Tommy hesitated, torn between either expecting the vampire to return to his book with disinterest, or for something low and mocking to rattle out like a poisonous snake. But ever the patient threat, Techno merely waited. 

”Tubbo’s angry at me,” he whispered, somehow sounding more choked up now than before. ”He’s just so—” A strangled noise escaped him as Tommy tucked his face back into the crook of Techno’s neck. ”I just want him to fight for once.” The urge to add on the unspoken ’for us, for me’ sat like a lump in his throat, but Tommy stubbornly forced it down. The chest beneath his cheek shifted as the vampire exhaled, and Tommy wasn’t sure what it meant that the vampire who was old enough to not even breath on reflex, somehow had no issues remembering to sigh at him. But before he could add that indignant realization to the pile of horribleness, the hand resting on his back began to move up and down his back in a slow, but steady motion. 

”Sounds rough.” Techno commented after a beat too long, and Tommy couldn’t help the infuriated huff that slipped out at the blunt response. But the bluntness was the reason he had sought the other out. Something wet trailed down the bridge of his nose, but just as Tommy had hoped, Techno didn’t as much as twitch in response. 

”You’re not supposed to be mean,” Tommy snapped tiredly as he lifted his head to turn the other way, making sure to wipe off as much of the messy saltness clinging to his cheeks against Techno’s shoulder as he could. Judging by the slight tension lining the ancient’s shoulder, the action didn’t go unnoticed, and yet Techno remained quiet. 

”I’m doing my best,” Tommy confessed in a muffled voice after a moment. Something about saying it out loud feeling like the easing of a lingering ache. ”I’ve been doing my best for so long, and I’m tired.” 

”Then rest.” 

Techno’s voice was dry, but it wasn’t cruel and Tommy scoffed even as he slumped further into the hold and tried to focus on slow pressure moving up and down his back in steady strokes. 

”You make it sound easy,” Tommy complained as he clumsily stifled a yawn. Techno let out another exhale, shallow enough that had it been anyone else, Tommy wouldn’t have categorized it as a sigh. The hand pressed against his back disappeared, but before Tommy could react to its sudden absence, it returned in the form of a palm cradling the back of his head.

”Rest.” Techno ordered in an even voice, and against all better judgement, Tommy felt the last trembles of tension ease away. He could feel the increasingly forceful pull of exhaustion as the last couple of days worth of fitful sleeping finally caught up. With a heavy sigh, Tommy shifted into a slightly more comfortable position and fell still, absentmindedly aware of how a part of him was already beginning to drift, but being too tired to care. And as soon as the familiar sound of a page turning picked up, Tommy was lulled into a dreamless sleep… 

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”So he’s throwing a fit.” 

Tommy stirred at the words, roused by the deep rumble in the chest he lied pressed against as a single spark of something vaguely reminiscent to awareness lit up in the back of his mind. It was a small spark, one that was easily drowned out by how heavy he felt. As if bone and marrow had turned into lead. 

”He’s not happy,” a slightly lighter voice agreed, and vaguely, Tommy heard the shifting of fabric as fingers gently scratched against his scalp. ”But it helps that we’re not staying much longer. He knows that these are extenuating circumstances and that I’ll make it up to him once this is all over with.” 

For a moment, the voices fell silent and Tommy had almost managed to fully sink back into unconsciousness when the chest beneath his cheek deflated slightly as a deep exhale tickled the back of his neck. Grumpily, Tommy shifted away from the sensation, brow furrowed as he tried to cling to the remnants of slumber. 

”His sleep schedule is going to be ruined at this rate.” 

There was a snort, airy and full of amusement, and then the softer voice spoke up again.  

”Considering how little he’s been sleeping these last days, I’m content as long as he’s getting any rest at all…” Was said soothingly as the fingers returned to gently brush away a tickling blonde curl from Tommy’s brow. 

”You should’ve intervened,” the deeper voice replied with a slightly harsher edge.

”I would’ve,” the other voice hummed. ”No father wants to hear their child upset, but if I can encourage him to seek us out on his own then I will.” Tommy lets the words wash over him, semi-aware that nothing pierces through the blissfully thick haze that keeps him enveloped. The hand that had been gently brushing over his head disappeared, and Tommy let out a grumpy noise as he felt himself get pulled away. There was a laugh, warm and soft.

”Don’t you want to sleep in a bed?” The soft voice coaxed, even as the offending hands ceased their efforts to pull Tommy out of his cocoon. Blearily, Tommy peeled an eye open enough to glare at the culprit. Warm red eyes met his, the familiar face softened with patience and Tommy let his eyes slide semi-shut again as he tried to process the question. Something about… right. A bed. 

The pull returned, but this time Tommy offered no resistance as he was transferred to his sire’s arms. He merely let his head rest against the ancient’s shoulder as he vaguely felt himself get hoisted up in the air. 

”I’ll tend to the brat then,” the deeper voice spoke up with a sigh, followed by the sound of creaking wood as someone rose from a piece of furniture. Tommy hummed as he felt his hair get lightly ruffled, already halfway there to succumbing to the pull of oblivion. The replying ’please’ from his dad was the last thing Tommy heard before he felt the silver of consciousness slip through his fingers, allowing everything to once again go dark. 

For the first time in a while, Tommy was alone in the nest. The bed was just as soft as always, and beneath the layers of blankets and the lone pillow, Tommy felt almost safe. Or at the very least, safe enough to continue hiding amongst the assortment of duvets. Philza had been there when he woke up, but had soon left with an affectionate hair ruffle and semi-stern reminder to rest. Even then, Tommy hadn’t offered much of a response, and still, hours afterwards, did the idea of speaking make his tongue feel stiff and bloated in his mouth. 

He heaved a sigh, eyes half lidded as he remained perfectly still in his blanket cocoon. The mere idea of untangling himself and leaving the nest was a daunting one, and Tommy felt like he’d do anything to just remain were he was, as he was. With all feelings left at the door. As if summoned by the drifting thought, the door to the nest creaked open and Tommy bit back the urge to groan into the pillow. Instead, he remained resolutely still, hoping that whichever member of his coven had entered would take the hint and leave him be. 

”Tommy?” 

Tommy froze, before violently twisting around to face the door. Tubbo was staring at him, paler than Tommy remembered and with his blonde straight hair tucked behind each ear. Tommy almost gaped at the sight. 

Tubbo looked unsure, body tense as his red eyes flickered hesitantly between Tommy and at something over his shoulder. But as nothing happened, and no rebuking calls rang out, Tubbo seemingly steeled himself and stepped in, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft click. 

For a moment neither spoke, the two changelings busy just staring at each other for a moment. Tommy opened and closed his mouth, unsure what to say or if he could even say anything at all, but before he could make up his mind, Tubbo let out a soft exhale. The other changeling stepped towards the armchair, giving the bed a wide berth before he gingerly sat down at the very edge of the plush seat, hands nervously twisted into the fabric of his sweater. 

”Hi,” the greeting was soft, and slightly shaky, but it was far more than Tommy could’ve asked for. Wordlessly, he stretched out a hand, letting it weakly lie palm up on top of all the blankets, and after a moment of hesitation, Tubbo took it. Tommy just stared for a moment, eyes hungrily trying to fill in the visual gaps he couldn’t make sense of. Tubbo looked tired, exhausted even, but for once in his life Tommy didn’t know for sure what had happened or how the other felt. It was a sobering realisation. He’d gotten so used to knowing the ins and outs of Tubbo’s life, from the minute he woke up to the minute he went to bed, the simple cycle that was their life allowing him to more or less know everything. But now, the puzzle that he knew like the back of his own hand was different. Entire chunks of pieces missing and the final image different. 

”I’m sorry,” Tommy whispered, internally grimacing at how crappy he sounded. ”I know I’m being unfair, I know I’m the one who’s messed everything up, that I—” 

The heavy exhale from the other changeling had Tommy clamp his mouth shut and immediately fall silent. Nausea curled in his stomach as he suddenly felt infinitely smaller and brittle in the face of the unspoken disappointment. 

”That’s not it, I wish you’d…” Tubbo trailed off tiredly, still not quite meeting Tommy’s eyes. ”I’m sorry. I know things are hard, for you especially. I just wish things were different.” 

What he wished was different, Tubbo didn’t say and Tommy didn’t ask, afraid that the answer would be something beyond what he could handle. But Tubbo’s hand was still in his, and this, Tommy thought stubbornly, this would have to be enough. 

When Tubbo’s eyes flickered up to met his, Tommy felt an inkling of trepidation slink down his spine at the silver of iron in them. The other looked steady… and determined, neither of which was reassuring when Tommy had no clue what was going through the his mind. 

”What were you trying to tell me?” Tommy asked quietly, the sour feeling in his gut only growing bigger at the pointed glance he earned in response. Tubbo remained quiet and eventually, the look let up and that same tiredness took over. 

”Do you trust me?” Tubbo asked softly after a moment. Tommy startled. 

”Of course—” 

”Do you trust my judgment?” Tubbo interrupted, powering on despite the unsure look Tommy shot him. ”Trust the choices I’ll make if I promise its for our best?” 

Tommy froze, suddenly cold to his core as uncertainty settled like a stone in his stomach. 

”What do you mean?” He asked fearfully, dreading the answer. There was a flicker of something in Tubbo’s eyes, before it quickly disappeared and pure resolve took over. 

”Just answer me.” 

Tommy swallowed, hesitance pulling at him. 

”I trust you, I do but…” he whispered after a beat too long, eyes scanning Tubbo’s expression that betrayed nothing. ”Could you tell me…?” 

Tubbo wordlessly shook his head. 

”Trust me.” 

Tommy exhaled, and offered the hand a squeeze as he closed his eyes in an effort to keep the budding headache at bay. 

”Okay.”