Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He came back to himself suddenly in the middle of a town square. He took in the information around him quickly. He figured that he was roughly a days ride south from his home, evident by the climate and biome of the village. Around him, townsfolk moved about their day without noticing the god in their midst. Third, he recognized that he’d been moving down the main road before he’d regained control of himself.

Most surprising to him was that the townspeople are him were all alive. Usually, when he came out of the fugue-like states, bodies surrounded him and blood covered the earth.

The voices whispered quietly, telling him both that they were satiated now and that he could always slaughter the village if he wished. He cringed slightly at the thought, knowing that while their words rang true, blood still crusted under his fingernails from the voices’ most recent rampage.

Technoblade was a man to be feared by all. A soldier born in strength and a god soaked in blood.

He moved along with the flow of people on the road, making his way the the edge so that he could slip into an alleyway and disappear from the crowded town square.

He just wanted to get home and ask Phil how long he’d been gone.

The fugues sometimes lasted years- although that was incredibly rare. Usually, they only lasted a few weeks. The fugues were brought on when the voices got too loud, demanding blood and taking hold over Techno, making him forget himself until the voices were satisfied. Often, he didn’t know what he did during his fugues, only that great violence and bloodshed had occurred.

He slipped into an alley, finally relaxing as the busy sounds of the town faded. A new sound made his ear twitch.

Drunken men, probably four of them, laughing and stumbling around. Techno’s eyes adjusted to the semidarkness and he watched them for a moment. Two of them were crouched around a box on the floor while the other two looked on.

Raucous laughter filled the alley as the sound of an infant crying could be heard. One of the men crouching to the ground held up a bowl of water and trickled into the box, making the infant’s cries louder.

The voices whispered amongst themselves, seemingly disagreeing on whether to laugh at the orphan or just leave the men to their business. A few voices whispered that the men were being cruel and should be shown the same cruelty. The few voices became a deafening roar as the rest of them agreed.

Techno felt his grasp on his own body slipping once more and what felt like moments later, he was sitting against the wall of the alley. Blood caked the floor and seeped into his clothes, staining his skin.

The voices, it seemed, decided that those men were worthy of very painful deaths.

A sniffle came from the little bundle that Techno hadn’t realized he held close to his chest. He looked down to see the tiny, scrunched up face of a child. The child didn’t seem particularly distressed, despite the blotchy burns that marred its skin.

The child’s characteristics were particularly interesting, with split half black and white skin and hair. They had bright freckles on their cheeks and arms, coloured opposite to their skin- white freckles on black skin and black freckles on white skin.

A dark cloth that looked too ragged and thin to be considered a blanket swaddled the child. The box it had been left in was discarded to the side.

The voices cooed as the baby scrunched its nose.

Techno raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t know the voices to spare anyone or kill for another’s sake. Perhaps they took pity on it.

“It’s an orphan, we should just leave it here to die.” Techno grumbled, the voices growing louder in response. Despite his hatred for orphans, Techno couldn’t bring himself to move or set the child down.

Techno felt the scratchy blanket between his fingers, moving to soak up some of the water on the child’s skin gently. The kid fussed when he pressed its burns but calmed down after a moment.

He kneeled slowly, careful not to jostle the child. He set it back into its box, making it fuss some more and blink open its huge eyes. Techno stopped for a moment; the infant looked like it was reading his soul with it’s mismatched red and green eyes.

Techno sighed as it started crying, tears burning into it’s skin.

“Okay, okay! Shhh, no, please- I’m not leavin’, I’m just takin’ off my cloak.” He unclasped the chain holding his cloak in place and moved quickly as he set it next to him and picked up the child once more.

He unwrapped the child from the blanket and instead swaddled them in his soft cloak. The child quieted down almost immediately and fell asleep, clutching the red cloth tightly.

He stood carefully and continued down the alley, leaving the bloodied bodies of the men that had been harming the child behind. Disgust curled in Techno’s gut when he thought about how they were pouring water on it.

The infant was obviously an enderman hybrid- allergic to water.

The voices growled in agreement that the men deserved the painful deaths they got. They seemed strangely protective of this small enderman child, and Techno couldn’t bring himself to set the child down, by fault of the voices or not.

He wasn’t sure where the protective streak came from. Typically, he was only fiercely protective towards Phil and their animas, and absolutely no one else.

Certainly not. That was it, just Phil and the animals.

Two loud boys with curly hair- one a brunette and the other blonde- did not come to mind.

They were off starting their own nation anyway. They didn’t need his protection.

The infant in his arms shuffled around suddenly, pulling his mind away. They’d left the village behind, and were far past the tree line now.

He glanced down to see the wide mismatched eyes peering up at him once more. Techno glared and huffed at it. The child only blinked at him.

“So, what? You’re an orphan? Got thrown out of your home because you’re a hybrid? Parents just didn’t care about you? I wouldn’t blame them, I don’t like children either.” Techno said, staring down at the kid as he navigated through the forest.

The voices chastised him for saying something like that to a child he obviously cared about. Techno ignored them.

He continued rambling to the child. “Look, alright. Phil’s got a nasty habit of adopting every kid that stands in his peripheral vision for more than 10 seconds, so if I don’t leave you in another box by the time we get home, maybe you’ll have a chance with him. I’m just not a kid person. Nothing personal.” The child watched him intently, almost as if it was listening.

“You’re a funny lookin’ little thing, aren’t you? I’ve seen a few enderman hybrids in my day- don’t ask me where they are now, you won’t like the answer- and you don’t look quite like them.” The child snuggled farther into his hold as he paused, still staring up at him with wide eyes. “‘Spose you’re not so bad. Y’know, considerin’ you’re filthy and an orphan. “

The kid’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and they sighed deeply with a mix of resignation and sadness int their eyes. Techno held back a chuckle at the sigh.

“What do you have to sigh about? You’re too young to be fed up with the world.” Techno said, stopping for a moment to gather his surroundings before changing direction slightly. The sadness in the kid’s eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Techno hoped the kid would feel alright until they got home. “Me, on the other hand-“

He continued rambling to the kid, not even realizing that he was talking to a child that couldn’t talk back.

He stopped after a few moments. “Do you have a name? Not that I care, you’re an orphan.”

The child blinked.

“You don’t do a whole lot of anythin’. I thought babies were supposed to cry ‘n stuff.” He said, the forest growing slightly colder. “I guess you probably don’t have a name. Look, kid, I’m not good at namin’ things. Usually Chat does it for me.”

At the mention of Chat, the voices grew louder, shouting out names for the child. “Chat- we’re not namin’ it Danger. Or Subscribe- well, I mean- no, Phil would kill us.”

The kid stared at him, as if trying to figure out what he was saying. Or trying to tell him something.

“What about Ranboo?”

He startled himself with the name. Chat seemed just as confused; it was an unconventional name that came out of nowhere.

The child grinned. Ranboo it is.

One of the voices mentioned that now that the kid has a name, Techno will become attached. Techno snorted.

As if he could become attached to an orphan.

—

When the familiar cabin surrounded by snow came into view, exhaustion flooded his senses. His limbs trembled and his muscles ached. The drain of the fugue finally hit him. The fugues usually drained his energy- Techno guessed it was because of the voices not letting his physical body rest while they rampaged- but this one seemed to hit him harder than the rest.

His arms also protested holding an infant for so long, but he couldn’t bring himself to set Ranboo down.

Said child slept soundly, still wrapped in his cloak, cheeks slightly pink from the cold.

Phil must have seen him from the window, as he came out onto the stairs to greet his friend.

“Hello, mate. You’ve been gone a while. I think Carl was starting to miss you.” Phil said when Techno started climbing the steps. The horse huffed in reply. Phil laughed. “What do you have?”

Techno stopped on the step below his friend. “An orphan.”

Phil’s eyebrows shot up. “And it’s-“ he peeking at the bundle. “Alive?”

Techno nodded, exhaustion seeping into his very move.

Phil looked surprised but said nothing more on it. “Mate, you look like you’re about to fall over. Come on inside. I just made dinner, I’ll throw more on the fire- it’s potato soup tonight.”

Techno’s ears perked up slightly at the mention of potatoes. He followed Phil as he climbed the rest of the stairs and entered the house.

Phil was talking about something, but Techno couldn’t find it in him to listen.

“Mate?” Phil said after a few moments. Techno hummed, paying attention now. “Do you want me to take the kid whi-“

“Ranboo.”

Phil stopped, surprised by the interruption. “Ranboo?”

Techno nodded. “The kid’s name. Ranboo.”

Phil nodded slowly. “Alright. Uh- do you want me to take Ranboo while you go clean up?” He held out his arms for the child.

And Gods, Techno wanted to hand Ranboo over- every exhausted cell in his body begged to no longer hold the child- but he only held Ranboo closer. Phil blinked at him.

“Techno, you’re covered in blood. I’ll watch the ki- Ranboo while you go clean up. Your hair is a mess.” Phil said, concern showing in his eyes.

Techno ignored Phil, sitting down slowly with the swaddle clutched to his chest. Everything in him wanted to sleep for a week but his body wouldn’t let him hand Ranboo over.

Phil sat down next to his friend, studying the child. “Enderman hybrid. He’s young, very young. Are those- Techno this kid might die soon.” He said, his brows furrowing.

A shock ran through Techno. “What? What do you mean-?” He searched his friend’s eyes frantically.

Phil sighed. “He’s so little, and there’s- all of those burns could be fatal. He looks like he hasn’t eaten anything in days, and look there,” he pointed to some splotchy burns. “Those look old and infected.” He pressed a hand to the infant’s forehead. “He’s got a fever.”

Techno felt panic coursing through him. He stared down at Ranboo, trying to figure out how all that had slipped by him, and why Ranboo wasn’t being fussy because of it.

“-ey, Tech, mate, it’s going to be okay. I’ll go grab some healing pots, try not to panic too much. He’s not dead yet.” Phil gripped Techno’s shoulder, grounding him.

Yet .

The word shook Techno more than it should have. He chastised himself for caring so much about the fate of an orphan. Who cares if it died?

But Ranboo blinked up and him and his stony expression faltered into one of sadness. Ranboo’s lip quivered and he let out a high-pitched whine, his eyebrows pinched.

The sound pierced Technos heart and the voices chanted that he was growing soft as he brought the baby up to his shoulder where he held Ranboo close.

“You’re going to be fine.” He repeated to himself, over and over like a mantra. He didn’t know why he cared. He didn’t . He didn’t care.

He couldn’t care.

He had other things to worry about, not a loud, hybrid infant.

He pressed his nose against black and white curls, trying to figure out why he cared.

He didn’t.

But if he did, why would he?

Techno tried to smother the answer that came to him. It made too much sense and Techno wanted to deny it. He wanted to deny that he cared for this child he’d just met. He wanted to deny that the child reminded him of himself, when Phil had saved him from the Nether.

Techno knew that history repeated itself, but he also knew that when he was a child in the Nether, he would have died if it weren’t for Phil.

It was just history repeating itself.

An orphan hybrid, forgotten about and alone.

He could have broken the cycle, could have left Ranboo to die. He could have.

But you didn’t. The voices whispered. Because you knew that if Phil had left you, you would have died too .

The soft black of Phil’s wings filled his frame of vision as his friend came back with healing potions.

He gently took Ranboo from Techno, stern in that the piglin couldn’t protest even if he wanted to.

“He’ll be okay.” Phil whispered. “I’ve got him. Go clean yourself up while I get rid of some of these burns, alright, mate?”

Techno nodded dumbly, knowing that there was no arguing with Philza anymore. He stood up and left for his room to clean himself up from the months away from home.

Each time that he heard Ranboo whimper from the other room, his steps faltered and it took everything in him nor to run to the child and protect him from the pain.

When he came back to where Phil held Ranboo on his chest, the baby was asleep, and Phil was laid back on the couch. Techno walked closer carefully.

Phil motioned for him to sit but didn’t move to give Ranboo back.

“Where’d he come from?” Phil asked, rubbing little circles into Ranboo’s back.

Techno leaned into the back of the couch and shrugged. “He was in some alleyway. Some drunk nerds were hurting him.”

Phil hummed, making Ranboo sigh softly. “Water?” Techno nodded. “And these people?”

“Dead now.” Techno said without an ounce of regret.

“You’re not a kid person.”

“I’m not.”

“Tech, what are we going to do with him? Toms and Wil are gone and there hasn’t been a baby in this house in years.” Phil said. “Granted, endermen age faster than humans. He’ll catch up to Tommy in age in a few years before he starts slowing down and aging normally.”

Techno nodded. He knew that hybrids often aged differently- piglins tended to age slower than humans after they reach maturity. “I don’t know what we’ll do with him.”

“I suppose we’ll keep him. You know that I’m not one to throw a kid to the streets, mate.” Phil said, making Techno nod once more. “Why did you take him? Someone else might have found him later and raised him.”

Techno shook his head. “We don’t know that. Do you think anyone would have taken me if you’d left me in the Nether?”

Phil sucked in a sharp breath. “Tech, you know that’s different. You were wandering the Nether without a soul in sight for miles.  This kid was in the middle of a village. Surely someone would have stumbled into him.”

“How do you know they’d raise him? Maybe they would have been like those men. They might have taken him and hurt him as he grew, they might have just killed him.” Techno argued. He repeated to himself that he didn’t care. He told himself that over and over, but he knew he was lying. “I couldn’t just leave him.”

Phil took a deep breath but said nothing.

“And I’ve never seen the voices kill for someone else before.” Techno added, making Phil snap his head to him.

“What?”

Techno shrugged and set his head in his hands. “I had just come back to myself and was in control when I heard those guys. I saw what they were doin’ and the next moment I- I was just sittin’ in the alley with the kid in my arms. The voices had taken over to kill those guys. I’ve never felt anythin’ like it before.

“They were angry, not hungry like they usually are. They killed for Ranboo’s sake, not for their own or the Blood God’s.” Techno met Phil’s wide eyes. “They care about him. And the voices never care about anyone.”

“They only care about blood.” Phil whispered.

Techno nodded. “He’s- different. I don’t know. I know that raisin’ him will bring up memories of Tommy and Wilbur, but I couldn’t leave him there.”

Phil sighed and sat up, maneuvering Ranboo into Techno’s arms carefully. “We’ll keep him. We’ll make sure he grows up happy and healthy, okay?”

Techno smiled. He felt something he’d never felt before, a sort of happiness blooming in his chest. Like love and happiness and adoration all mixed together to make a snowball of joy that knocked the air out of his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how such a small child would create something like that in the cold heart of the Blood God himself, but as Ranboo stirred and sleepily opened his mismatched eyes; Techno decided that he could handle happiness for this child.

Chapter Text

Techno hadn’t quite believed Phil when he said that endermen grew faster than humans.  Rather, they sprouted up in the span of weeks. 

Or so. 

Faster than Piglins or Elytrans for damn sure.

It’d only been about a month since the Pgilin had dragged (gently carried) the orphaned enderman hybrid home, and the kid was already up and about the cabin, climbing over everything and gnawing on wood that should almost definitely not be in his toddler sized mouth. 

Actually, no. Techno felt he deserved some credit, in the least. He believed Phil’s statement that endermen grew quickly, he just hadn’t thought to this extent. 

Said Elytran was out of the house, lucky bastard as he was, when Ranboo decided that finding the tallest cabinet in the home was a good idea. His intent, of course, to climb it and launch off the top as if he were a small bird whose attempts would teach him to fly. 

Unlucky for Ranboo, and Techno’s sanity, he did not, in fact, have wings. 

“Techieeeeeeeee!!” the child screeched as he plummeted towards the Piglin’s open arms. Ranboo burst into giggles as Techno caught him with half a heart attack. He flapped his arms, bouncing in his guardian’s grasp and shouted, “‘Gain! ‘Gain!”

“No.” Techno said sternly. “You can’t go ‘round jumping off furniture. It’s threatening to give me a heart attack. If Phil were here, he’d have keeled over hours ago.”

Ranboo’s face lit up. “Oldza! Oldza!”

Techno internally patted himself on the back. The kid learned well, an upside to the quick growing. Externally, though, Techno had to sigh. How had the quiet, sniffling baby from a month ago turned into this absolute menace of a ball of energy. 

The kid rivaled even Tommy. 

Well- maybe. 

Techno allowed himself to drift into the past for half a moment to think of the small blond boy who had run around endlessly and had a baseline volume of 200%. 

The thoughts vanished abruptly as Ranboo tugged his arms. He wanted down. 

“Alright, that’s about enough of your rough housing. Come on, it’s almost bedtime.” And that it was. They’d eaten dinner as their tiny trio family just before Phil set off to do whatever Phil things needed to be done. He might have mentioned something about a farm needing fixing. 

Ranboo whined, no longer as keen on the idea of sleeping as he had been about two weeks ago. The voices whined in tune, although they weren’t the ones who’d be asleep soon. In fact, Techno wasn’t sure they ever slept. Do tormenting Blood God voices need sleep? At the very least, they disturb his with flashing imagery of blood and war. 

Techno carried the small boy into his room and set him on the bed. Ranboo sat there, kicking his feet and looking out the window, enraptured by the starry sky and having completely forgotten about his sadness over bedtime. 

The room had once belonged to Tommy and Wilbur. Techno still remembered the absolute mess Tommy had made of the walls around the door, forcing the rest of the family to cover the crude little drawings the boy had made of his father’s stolen paint. And there, in the corner, that’s where Wilbur’s guitar had lived for ages. Now, the corner had a heap of forgotten, handmade stuffed animals gathering. 

Ranboo didn’t fight the process of getting into bed much. He’d always preferred changing into soft, comfy night clothes and being handed a bottle. Techno didn’t know when exactly they’d stop giving him those, considering how quickly he seemed to grow. 

“Story! Story!” The toddler demanded, as he always did. He hadn’t gone a night without one of Techno’s stories. 

Techno sighed, acting defeated for the small boy, who only smiled in triumph. “Alright, scoot.” The boy did so, making room on the small bed for the Piglin. “What kind of story do you want tonight?”

Ranboo thought for a moment. “Bed battle!” He grinned. Because of course. Ranboo loved the stories Techno told of his years at Hypixel more than any of the other stories, no matter how much Techno tried fostering a love of Greek Mythology. 

“That’s Bed Wars , little one.” Techno said fondly. The phrase of endearment was said in his native language, a nickname he’d been called in the very few memories he still had of his mother in the Nether. 

“Bed bars.” Ranboo said, his eyes already drooping from the sleep that he tried fighting off. 

Techno smiled to himself and began recounting one of the many bed wars games he’d won in the past. When that story was through, Ranboo was still clutching to consciousness, so Techno told of one of the MC Championships he’d taken part of.

And finally, the toddler fell asleep and the house descended into silence. 

—

Phil returned home a few hours later, when the moon was far above their heads. Techno had made himself comfortable on the sofa where he waited for his friend, where he stayed until said friend walked through the door with a dopey- and telling- grin. 

Techno smiled softly, his edges worn down by the exhausting day and the warmth of his friend’s return. “So, what did Kristen have to say?”

Phil sputtered. “Who said anything about Kristen? What? Mate, I think you need your ears checked, at dinner I said I was fixing the sugarcane farm.” 

Techno snorted. “You never walk through the door that happy unless you’ve just seen Her.”

A scoff was his reward. “Well maybe I was happy to see my best friend. Not anymore, that’s for sure.” Regardless, he left his stuff on the floor and made his way over to the sofa Techno occupied and flopped down. “She said that she expected nothing less when she saw you carrying the kid home. Said he’s cute. And that’s she was glad you didn’t abandon him. Turns out that he would have died from those burns, the poor thing, had you not found him.” He shifted into a more comfortable position, sitting next to Techno. 

Techno hummed and carded a gentle hand through Phil’s wing closest to him, righting feathers as he went. “Halfway expected her to say it was a bad idea to get attached to a kid so soon after Tommy and Wil.”

Phil sighed. “I expected it too. Part of me almost hoped that she would take him, find someone else who’d raise him.” He paused. “I- it’s not like- I love him, of course. He’s a sweet kid. I’m delighted that he made his way into our lives and burrowed there so quickly but- Toms, and Wil- I just.” He covered his hands. “I miss them.”

“I know.” Techno replied softly. “I do too.” A calm, quiet descended upon them, each lost in their own thoughts. Their own memories. “We can’t change what happened, though. They made their choice. They decided that it was time for them to be independent and we can’t blame them for it.”

Phil let out a breath. “I know, mate. But they were both still so young. I wonder sometimes what made Wilbur so ambitious. So stubborn. I wonder why he took Tommy with him, off to fight in wars that are inevitable, away from his family. HIs father. They’re brothers, I know that, closer than any I’ve ever seen. But Tommy- he was a child . He should have no part in politics. No part in wars.” Techno's hands stilled where they fixed feathers.

“We don’t know that there will be wars.” 

Phil shook his head. “Of course there will. It’s a country, every country takes part in war.”

“I take it there’s a new letter?”

Phil sighed. “They’ve done it. Created a new country. They’re calling it L’Manburg. They had to fight for independence. Not a war, necessarily, but Tommy’s still too young.”

Techno nodded. “It’s been a few years, maybe- Maybe he’s matured? I don’t- I don’t know, Phil. It hurts, I know that. I miss them as much as you do. They were my boys too.”

“And now we’ve Ranboo.” Phil said, earning a nod in response from Techno. “I suppose the only thing we can do is raise him the way he deserves, give him the family he needs. And hope that he won’t leave without hesitation the way the boys did.” He slumped into the sofa, exhaustion clear on his face. 

They’d been through a lot, the pair. Although, Techno had to admit that raising the two boys was much more challenging than taking over the world had been. Techno moved to help Phil up. “We should get to bed, old-”

“Techie?” A small voice cut him off. “Phil?”

Techno turned to see Ranboo standing in the doorway, clutching his blanket around him and his eyes full of tears. He crouched and held out his arms for the kid, who gladly rushed forward into the embrace. 

“What’s wrong, boo?” Techno asked softly as the toddler sniffled. He shot Phil a worried look. 

“Had a- a bad dream.” Ranboo hiccuped. 

“Aww, mate.” Phil said quietly. 

Techno scooped the small boy up and sat back onto the sofa. “Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better.”

Ranboo sniffed, nodded and sat back to look at his parents. “I- I- uhm. I was in a place that- I don’t, don’t ‘member. But it was scary. An’ you weren’t there and phil wasn’ there either. And I couldn’t- couldn't ‘member where I was. ‘N couldn’t rember anythin’. An’ there was someone else. Who- who wanted to hurt me. But I couldn’t ‘member how to make them stop.” His eyes watered up again. “Why couldn’t I ‘member? ‘N where were you?”

Techno felt the urge to wrap the kid up and never let anything hurt him. “Oh, boo. That does sound scary, I’m sorry.” Ranboo buried his face into his blanket and sniffled. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”

“Pwomise?”

“Of course, mate.” Phil said. “We won’t ever let anyone hurt you.” 

Ranboo nodded and waited a moment before asking, “Why couldn’t I remember? It- it felt like when, when we go see the doggies an’ I can’t ever ‘member any of their names ever, but badder.”

Phil leaned forward to kiss the top  of the boy’s head. “I don’t know, boo, but we’ll figure it out, okay?”

Ranboo nodded. “Like a team! In Bed Battle!” He grinned, the tears in his eyes suddenly forgotten. 

“Bed Wars.” Techno corrected. 

Ranboo scowled. “But like a team! A Hypizel team! Gonna solve the mysystery!”

Phil smiled. “Sure, like a team. Or like a family.” Ranboo grinned. 

—

A year passed peacefully. Or at least, the most peacefully it could with a child growing as rapidly as Ranboo did. 

In the year, he’d seemed to age nearly to the same age Tommy had been when Wilbur left with him. In just 12 months, the little enderman had already grown to what seemed to be a lanky 10 year old. 

And lanky was an understatement. Of course, Techno and Phil knew that endermen genetics would play their role, and that he’d been a bean sprout by the time he was an adult. As time went on, Techno did notice a slight decrease in how quickly he aged, but it was still much faster than a human, and it didn’t stop the long stretch marks that grew across his back when the skin couldn’t catch up with his rapidly increasing height. 

With the passing of the year, Techno and Phil also came to learn that as Ranboo aged, his memory got worse. The dream he’d had when he was little seemed more and more a reality as he continued to forget the animals who lived in the area surrounding the cabin and very frequently where he’d put objects. After that, it spread to forgetting what day it was, to the season as a whole. Twice, Ranboo had even forgotten Phil’s name. 

That was what really bothered Techno. He knew it wasn’t Ranboo’s fault, and he felt bad for the kid, if nothing else. But, Phil was as much a father figure to the kid as Techno was. And while he’d never forgotten Techno’s name before, it didn’t mean that it was impossible. 

Every night for the past week, Techno had dreams where Ranboo woke up and had forgotten everything about his family, and the home they’d given him. Sometimes the dreams ended with them gently reminding Ranboo and everything continuing as normal, and other times it ended… less well.

A few nights ago, the Ranboo of his dreams was much older, and when he couldn’t be convinced who his parents were, he ran away. In another, he lost himself so much that he’d fallen and been hurt but forgot who to call and ended up lying there until he bled to death. 

That night in particular, he’d woken up gasping for breath as if it were he who had died instead of the boy. Ranboo was there, then. He laid asleep on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He must have woken up from his own nightmare and sought the comfort of Phil and Techno but didn’t want to disturb them. Techno had crossed the room to bring Ranboo back to where Phil slept, laying the boy down and falling back to sleep. 

Now, it was afternoon and the smell of stew wafted through the cottage. Ranboo had wandered off to make friends with the animals, or pick flowers. Phil worked to clean up the meal, and Techno sat at a desk with his head in his hands. 

Resting on the desk below him, a paper filled with neat handwriting lay. The letter had come in the morning, but neither Phil nor Techno had the heart to open it until only moments after Ranboo left. 

The letter, addressed to the two of them, as usual, spoke of Tommy and WIl’s newest adventures. If you could call them that. Running a country seemed to go smoothly for Wilbur. He’d settled small skirmishes and built something great for himself and his brother, now 15. It was sort of strange to think that they’d left 5 years before. 

And if Phil’s math was right, Ranboo would catch up with Tommy in age by the next year, before slowing down drastically to the regular rate of humans and then to an even slower rate when he reached adulthood. 

The letter, after detailing many small victories, went on to talk about an election that would be held for president the next year. Wilbur would run, of course, and he didn’t intend to let anyone else run, therefore being declared victor by default. It turns out that the people of their country had decided that naming himself leader wasn’t a very good idea on Wilbur’s part, so he’d hatched this plan. 

There were flaws everywhere that Techno could see in broad daylight, but something about the way Wilbur wrote told him that the boy was changing. In his fight for glory and victory, he’d lost a part of himself that had really made him their boy, Phil and Techno’s. He’d lost something that Techno couldn’t put a name to, especially when he hadn’t seen the boy face to face in years. 

Wilbur sought power. 

It became clear to his parents that the fight for L’Manburg’s independence had originally been for a greater power, a rightful fight for freedom. But, as time went on, it became increasingly more clear that Wilbur’s mission had turned slowly from being a fight for good to being a fight to hold the power. A game of King of the Hill, if you will.

Phil came over to peer at the letter. “Mate, you’ll give yourself a headache if you think about it for too long. It hurts me as much as it hurts you, but you have to let him do this. We have to let him do this. He’ll call for our help when he deems that it’s needed. He’s a good kid, he’ll come to his senses.”

Techno sat back and nodded. “He’s always come to us. He’ll come to us when he needs it.”

Phil smiled. “Exactly. Come on, let’s go get Ranboo. It’s time for a memory exercise.”

After reading many books about memory loss and endermen, that’s what the two had decided would be most useful to Ranboo. One of the books described multiple exercises that were said to help strengthen and improve memory. Ranboo seemed happy to comply.

Phil left to go find the boy while Techno carefully put the letter back in its envelope and stashed it with the rest of them from the past few years. 

More of them were written by WIlbur, and it hurt to wonder if they’d done something wrong with Tommy. Why didn’t he write more? Did he even still think of them as family? It was difficult to say. 

He sat there for a moment longer, staring at the wall. Briefly, he wondered when Wilbur would ask for their help. He knew all about his fathers’ time as Emperors of the Arctic north, so surely he’d soon ask for their advice on how to rule, but the question hadn’t come yet.

Techno stood and was about to follow Phil outside when he suddenly burst through the door. His eyes were wide and his wings puffed up in panic. 

“Techno-” He rushed forward, forgetting to close the door in his haste. “Techno, he’s gone.”

Fear spiked in Techno’s heart. “What?”

“Ranboo. I can’t find him anywhere. He- he must have wandered too far- or- or-” Techno cut Phil off as he pushed past and out the door. All of his horrible dreams came flaring back into his mind as the voices roared with the adrenaline suddenly introduced. 

Ranboo- the kid- fight- find him- where did he go- off a cliff- no- no no- baby boo- where is he- where- where- will he come back- does he remember how to get back- is he okay- fight- blood- E- phil- techno?- ranboo- dadza- find him- fight- find him- no- he cant be gone- technodad- no no no- please please- no- he’ll be there- outside- with the dogs- where is he-

Find him.

Chapter Text

Ranboo remembered 3 things. 

1. His name was Ranboo.
2. He had someone who cared very much about him. 
3. He was in Hypixel.

He wasn’t sure of much else. He didn’t know how old he was, especially considering the growth rate of endermen. He didn’t know who cared for him, who they were to him. He didn’t know why he was in Hypixel, or better yet, how he knew the name of the server. 

He had a small apartment that was given to him upon entering the server, something all players where given. The small apartment hid in a maze of corridors and other apartments, all filled with the smell of dust and stained floors. Ranboo hadn’t asked what made the deep stains, but he supposed he’d rather not know the answer anyway. 

He pushed the thoughts of his apartment- the only home he had- away, and instead focused on the tournament today. 

Bed wars. His favourite game to play, and one of the ones he was best at. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near the leaderboards- names like Technoblade, Purpled, Dream, Gamerboy80, all held up on their own little pedestals of fame- but the coin he won was enough to keep living here.

He wasn’t sure where he would go if the coin ran out and he stopped winning. As far as he knew, the only servers open to him were public and most of those weren’t ever safe for a teenaged enderman hybrid. 

He couldn’t help but wonder about wherever it was that he came from- and who it was that cared about him. He wondered if they were a parent, a mother or father who loved him since the very moment he’d been born. He wondered if they were a teacher, someone who taught him the things he knew. Not that there were many. He supposed that the teacher might have been frustrated when he couldn’t remember their teachings. 

Maybe that’s how he ended up in Hypixel. 

Of course, everyone knew about the illegal dealings in the background of the server, though no one ever mentioned them. There were people who brought new players to the server, players who’d been kidnapped or sold. 

Perhaps whoever had loved Ranboo got frustrated with him and decided to sell him off to the championship server.

The boy held back whatever sad emotion tried bubbling up at the thought. 

The final player joined the lobby and the game began. He spawned into his own island, a dark blue bed out in the open, waiting for others to attack. 

Briefly, he wondered if Technoblade or one of the other great players once defended this exact bed before. 

The game progressed as normal, nothing out of the ordinary. The other players went after each other before targeting him. 3 colours had been eliminated before Ranboo even got to the emerald islands.The islands that promised more coin also hid a player dressed in green, who sprung on him suddenly. They got a few hits on him before he managed to pull out his sword and defend himself. 

They fought, neither gaining the upper hand, and both losing health, before Ranboo finally flung their sword away and shoved the other player hard off the map. They fell into the void, the sound of another elimination boomed across the arena and coins flooded to Ranboo's name. 

A few more elimination sounds told him that other colours had fallen off the map or killed each other. Finally, the statistics in the sky told him that there were only two colours left, blue and red. The other player seemed to be hiding, waiting for the moment to strike and win the game. Ranboo didn’t want to allow them to get the chance. 

The notifications Ranboo got through his messenger told him that Red had been the one to eliminate many of the other players. 

Fear flooded him for a moment. If he didn’t win this, the coins from his kill earlier wouldn't be enough to get food for a while. Maybe not enough to last until the next game. And his odds of winning had dwindled with every kill Red made. 

Red was clearly a good player. More so than Ranboo. He didn’t stand a chance against the more seasoned player.

His nerves began getting the best of him, and as he wandered through the emerald islands, a block of TNT landed just before him. Ranboo barely had time to process before it blew up, throwing him back and into a wall. Red jumped down from a platform above ground and approached with their sword out. 

The enderman stood slowly, careful of the newly forming bruises on his back. 

Red turned to look at him, and for a moment, Ranboo spotted hesitation. He flung himself forward, attempting to land a hit of the player of more skill while they’d left themself open. 

Red’s eyes narrowed as they attempted to block Ranboo, but he feigned and managed to trick them. Any of Red’s hesitation disappeared completely when they realised that Ranboo was desperate to win this match. 

There was nothing Red could do but fight back. 

Ranboo could tell that they were attempting to go easy on him, as there was no way they’d defeated half the other colours by fighting like this. It only made Ranboo angrier, but also more hopeful that he could take the coin from this game. It would give him the money he needed to survive until the next game. 

They were both low on health now, and Ranboo’s desperation won over. 

He made a stupid mistake, and missed a jump. 

He plummeted towards the never ending void, where he’d be killed by the magic surrounding the map. 

He’d respawn at home, having lost the game. 

Ranboo waited for the magic to kill him, and when it didn’t, he opened his eyes to a new server . A server he’d never been to before. 

A very popular, privated, white-list only server home to only the best players. 

The Dream SMP.

—

There were rumours circulating the server. Or rather, Techno’s voices were circulating the rumour. He hadn’t spent enough time with anyone on the server recently, certainly not enough for them to tell him of the newest member. 

The voices in his head, however, told him everything. There was a new person on the server. The voices spoke of a bed wars champion, an enderman hybrid who spoke anxiously and had settled in new L’Manburg. And in hushed whispers, they spoke a name. It was speculation, of course. Because how could the small boy Techno had rescued 3 years ago be here, now?

Ranboo .

It had been two years since the boy’s disappearance. He and Phil had searched everywhere. Scoured their server and then through others. They checked the Hypixel records of new players, but it seems the staff had neglected that section, as the most recent entry had been months even before Ranboo’s disappearance. 

They hadn’t found their boy. They’d lost him to the expanse of endless severs. He could have been anywhere.

An unlimited number of possibilities. Hardcore worlds, hostile smps, anarchy servers, hybrid fighting servers, anything. 

To have lost a child so soon after others had left, it was the worst Techno had felt in a very long time.

The year following was the same simple routine that Phil and Techno found themselves in. Taking care of the animals, farming, and reading Wilbur’s letters. Wilbur’s election came and failed with all the fatal mistakes Techno had foreseen. The brothers were exiled. 

They gathered a small group of people wishing for rebellion. 

And then, they’d called on Techno.

Wilbur realised that he couldn’t lead a second revolution so soon after his grab at leadership failed. He needed help from the strongest warrior he knew, one of the men who'd helped raise him. Originally, Phil had thought Wil would ask for their advice on running a country, as they had done in the Antarctic, but he was soon proven wrong. 

He needed help taking back a country, not maintaining it. 

Not only that, but he’d only asked for Techno. He made no request of Phil, his father by blood. 

So, Techno packed up, bringing with him very few belongings. The rest would stay at home with Phil. They’d agreed that Phil would stay to take care of the cottage and the farms and animals. They would write to each other more often than Wilbur was. 

And then he left for the Dream SMP. 

Arriving to Pogtopia had been a strange experience. He saw his pseudo sons for the first time in 6 years, and met a number of other people just as desperate to get L’Manburg back as Wilbur was. He met Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend, and Niki, a kind baker.  

Then one thing led to another, and Wilbur blew it all up. Everything he’d worked for. And Phil was there to stab his son. 

The reconstruction efforts began and suddenly, there was a new member. 

One who, allegedly, snuck in, unwhite-listed. 

The voices whispered about something someone had said, an off-handed joke about the new-comer being Techno’s son. Evident, supposedly, by his skill during his time at Hypixel. The voices turned into a cry. They missed Ranboo as much as Techno and Phil. 

He was the only one they were this severely protective of, even after all this time. 

Techno didn’t know if he could believe it; his son, actually here. It was just speculation. A silly coincidence. 

In the time since Ranboo’s disappearance, his guardians had convinced themselves that he’d wandered off and died. It seemed a much more hopeful view than the idea that he was forced into a fighting ring, or being tormented on an anarchy server. The idea made it a little bit easier to ignore that they’d broken their promise to protect the boy. 

A crow disrupted his thoughts, suddenly. 

He’d kept his distance from Phil the past few months, trying not to draw attention to his best friend. But that didn’t stop them from continuing to speak through letters tied to the legs of Phil’s crows.

This letter was more of a note, a small scrap of ripped paper. A message was scribbled hastily there. 

They know where you are. Get ready, old friend.

Something similar to fear seized him for a moment before he regained his senses. Whoever it was, they were from L’Manburg, and Techno knew how to win in a fight like this. The only thing: he didn’t know how many there were. 

And clearly, they weren’t going to leave him to his peaceful life in retirement. 

Potion ingredients flew together, and the friendly ghost of Wilbur floated through the home to say hello. 

And all too soon, four members of L’Manburg watched from a hill near his home. 

Tubbo.

Quackity.

Fundy.

And a fourth. 

A tall person, covered in netherite armour. Someone Techno had yet to meet. Green and Red eyes stared at him from across the way. Black and white hair peeked out from under his helmet. 

He didn’t have a clear view of the newest SMP member, but already, he knew that it was the boy he’d saved 3 years ago. His heart knew before his mind did, and it hurt to know that there was no recognition in those eyes. 

Ranboo finally came back to him, but only to put an end to him. 

—

After returning home from escaping his execution and taking a life from Quackity, Techno found Phil waiting for him. 

“Hey, mate.”

Relief flooded through him. HIs friend was okay. They hadn’t hurt him after Techno’s failed execution. 

Techno reached for Phil, who met him in the middle. They rested their foreheads together, an act of endearment that had long since been a moment of peace for the two of them. They stayed there for a while, eyes closed and still processing the events of the day. They allowed themselves to unravel the tight thread today had spun, safe in the presence of each other. 

“It’s really him.” Techno whispered, his mind unable to let their boy go. 

Phil sighed softly. “Yeah. No one knows how he ended up here, but he’s here. He’s okay, more or less.”

Techno peaked his eyes open and leaned back. “More or less?”

Phil pulled away and faced a window. “He’s been through a lot the past two years. Growing up in Hypixel and not having anyone for so long- He’s changed. He speaks softly, like he’s afraid to take up space. He’s made friends with Tubbo and Tommy, and I think it’s helped bring out the side we used to see. His energetic, funny side.” Phil stared at the falling snow for a moment. “It’s the hardest thing in the world, knowing he’s right there but being unable to say anything.”

Techno sat quietly on a rocking chair he had in the corner of the room. “He doesn’t remember anything?” He’d pieced it together for himself, after the execution especially. The small boy they’d raised wouldn’t watch as Techno was to be killed. Wouldn’t have helped detain him. Phil’s nod confirmed some of his worst fears. 

Ranboo didn’t remember a single thing from their little family of three. 

“His memory seems to have gotten worse during his time at Hypixel. He’s got a book he carries with him- It’s a book of memories. He writes everything down so that when he inevitably forgets, he can just read the book and remember everything again. It’s- it’s so sad, Techno. HIs memory- It’s like it resets itself every few hours. A day, if he’s lucky.” Phil’s wings, one still healing from the explosions Wilbur caused, drooped. He looked every bit his age for a moment, and while Techno liked to tease him, he didn’t like seeing his friend look so defeated.

“It was never this bad before.” Techno whispered. Phil shook his head. “Does he remember anything from that day? Did he wander? Did he get taken?”

Phil let out a long breath. “He doesn’t know. Based on what he remembers from Hypixel, he pieced together a theory that he’d been taken from his home.”

Silence descended, thick and heavy as snow. 

Phil turned back to Techno. “He does speak of us sometimes. In a way, I suppose. Says he remembers that someone cared about him. He doesn’t know how it was, but he distinctly remembers the feeling of being loved.”

“You and I.”

The Elytran nods once more. “He says he misses whoever it was. He wishes he could find them.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “He misses us, mate. And he doesn’t even remember who we are. Out of everything he forgets, the one thing that stays strong in his memory is our love for him. Your love for him.”

The sentence seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs as it suddenly became much harder to breathe. Technoblade never died, and neither did he cry. Unless of course, he was in the company of his one best friend, the person he would give the world for. The person who made him feel safe enough to cry.

It was a sort of mourning and celebration all at once. Their boy was alive and mostly well, but he didn’t remember them. 

He knew he was loved though, and that’s what mattered. They gave him the family he’d deserved, they gave him the love he’d deserved and no matter what left the poor boy’s memory, that fact stayed firmly in place. 

—

Phil was back in his home in L’Manburg. He wouldn’t stay long, as he was no longer welcome after his revealed friendship with Technoblade. 

It didn’t matter, though. He needed to see Ranboo again. Nothing urgent or extreme, of course. He just- missed the kid. 

Now that he knew where the boy was, and that he was okay, he couldn't help but want to speak to him more. 

Phil wanted to know that he was doing alright, and that Hypixel hadn’t shattered him so completely as it had other players. 

“Phil!” Ranboo greeted cheerfully. “How are you?”

Phil smiled, accepting the welcoming gesture into the kid’s home. “Hey, mate. I’m alright, just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.”

Ranboo’s face lit up in a way that painfully reminded Phil of when Ranboo had been so expressional as a child. He grinned, his eyes shining bright. His crown fell a bit lopsided, something he’d won from games at Hypixel. “I’m good! Awesome, actually.” He pulled out his memory book and hesitated opening it up. “Actually, uhm- I remembered something the other day. Something from a long time ago. Phil- Do you remember when I told you about the feeling I had that I knew someone was out there, someone who cared for me?”

Phil nodded. It had been the happiest news, paired with Techno’s survival of his execution, that he’d heard in years. 

Ranboo smiled. “Right, I still don’t actually remember their name, but! They were a Hypixel champion, like me. I remember asking for a Bed Wars story to go to sleep as a kid. They might have grown up there too! Maybe that’s the real reason that I was there, I wasn’t kidnapped or something, I was born there. I don’t actually remember arriving at the server, so it would make sense if I had grown up there as a child.” He cut himself off, a look of confusion crossing his face. 

Phil watched as Ranboo began pacing. “No- But that can’t be right. Why would I have my own apartment at 12? I should have still been with them, if they lived on the server. And I also know that I definitely had friends. Animal friends. Lots of dogs. And sunshine- there was so much of it.  But I can’t- I don’t-” He made a frustrated sound. “I can’t remember! Why can’t I remember, Phil?” The teen turned towards him with wild eyes. 

“I don’t know, Ranboo. But I’ll help you figure it out, yeah?” He crossed the small space, opening his arms for Ranboo, who gratefully accepted the hug.

He had to hunch over to properly hug the Elytran, but it made burying his face into the other’s shoulder rather convenient. “I have the strangest suspicion that someone has said something very similar before.” Ranboo whispered, so soft that Phil almost didn’t even hear.

Phil only hugged him tighter. “Mate, I think it’s time you meet someone. Properly.”