Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Phil, we don’t have long. Aimsey’s gonna freeze if we don’t find shelter soon.” Puffy yelled over the screaming wind. Philza turned, green scarf covering half his face as he looked at her, then at Aimsey in the wagon she drove. Several trailed behind her, as well as multiple members of the Syndicate on their own horse, such as Niki.

The gang of outlaws rode throught the ridge between two mountains, right as a blizzard tore through the area. Everybody and everything was coated in the fine, white snow. A forest covered their left side, and to the right, a cliff.

He furrowed his brows, deep in thought. Before Phil could come up with a reply, however, a flickering light emerged from the forest, cutting through the dark night. The two reached for their guns, ready to defend the gang from any enemies - perhaps a bounty hunter that managed to follow them all the way up to the northern mountains? Instead, Technoblade emerged. He pulled down the black bandana that covered his mouth.

“I found a place.”

*****

Philza, Puffy, and Technoblade stood at the fence circling the abandoned town. Their eyes scanned the area. Dream approached from behind, offering a flask to Techno, who pushed it back towards him. The fours’ horses stood a few feet away, waiting patiently. At least, as patiently as they could.

“I made sure to do a quick run through before coming back, but I wasn’t exactly taking my time.” Techno explained.

“Then we’ll go carefully. Surely nobody’s crazy enough to be here in this weather.” Philza instructed, loading bullets into his revolver.

“Not even Wardens? There were plenty at the train in Pogtopia.” Techno asked. Awesamdude, a wealthy magnate, and recent owner of the private security of Wardens, made the decision to eliminate outlaw gangs, including the Syndicate. For the past year, they’ve been chasing the gang down all over the country, and they were also the reason for their failed robbery from the other day. At least, that’s what Techno’s understood.

“I- No. Me and Dream will clear out this side,” He continued, motioning towards the left side of the small town, “And you two can do the other. We meet in the middle.”

And with that, the group split, with the ex-pirate closely following Techno’s footsteps, shotgun carefully aiming at anything that moved. The houses were wooden, dark, sleet-covered logs set on top of each other. Techno approached the first. A small table stood at the doorstep, a few shards of ceramic lain on top. He kicked down the door, Puffy right at his shoulder as he shone the light inside.

Empty. A worn bed stood in one corner, fireplace and table in the other, but empty. Cabinets surrounded the walls by the brick fireplace, items strewn about them as if someone had just left the house a moment ago. Charred remains of a log, half buried in ashes, sat in the fireplace. Puffy let out a relieved breath. Techno led her to the next. The night carried on like that, and eventually, Puffy even began tentative conversation.

“I made sure to get your things before leaving Pogtopia, by the way.”

“Did you?” Techno perked up. He always was possessive over his belongings. He recalled one time, back in his twenties, when they’d lost Floof’s old collar. Techno was inconsolable for days, as it was the last thing he had of the white dog. And of course, like she always did, Puffy solved the problem oh so easily, approaching Techno and teaching him leatherworking while the two made an identical copy.

“Thank you.” She didn’t say anything, only smiled in response. They went back to searching for people in the town.

Speaking of, it was a quaint town. If it weren’t for the cold, Techno would be satisfied staying here for months, maybe years. The buildings were all made of wood, and a fountain - dry, and, like everything else, blanketed in white - in the center. Rusty metal windchimes, hanging from the overhang of one of the houses, clanged. He winced as they passed his ear.

A small chapel’s cross dangled, half broken. He made a note not to let Phil see it. The more of his wild counteracts to superstitious bad luck signs he could avoid, the better. Puffy seemed to follow his train of thought, picking up a piece of rubble from a dilapidated building’s foundation and chucking it at the wooden cross's tip. It toppled the entire thing over.

They soon made it to the center of the town, Dream and Phil soon following. Considering the lack of gunshot noises, Techno considered they didn’t find anyone either. The wind and snow had begun to die down, and by the very break of dawn, the first lights of orange brushing across the horizon, interrupted by the mountain peaks, the Syndicate had settled in as much as they could.

Tubbo was unloading sacks of grain from one of the wagons, one over his shoulder and another under his other arm. Beau followed close behind, carrying the rest. He was about to join them to help, when Kristin called him over, at another wagon. This one held Aimsey’s unconscious body, bundled in as many blankets as they had. He was completely pale, lips almost blue.

“Can you help carry them?” She asked. He nodded, bracing to carry him, when Sally approached and interrupted.

“Techno,”

Here we go.

“Yep. Look, I told you, we’ll go after-” Technoblade was promptly cut off.

“He could be dead. Tortured, starved, fucking- frostbite, like Aimsey might!” She said as she placed her hands on her hips. Her red hair was tied back into a bun, but a few strands fell out, like wisps. Techno scooped him into his arms, along with as many blankets that would fit. Kristin led him to one of the small cabins, and Sally followed the two of them. She waited for Techno’s response with a huff.

The cabin was small, but the hearth was already lit, the logs inside crackling. A few small cots took up the rest of the room, and Kristin motioned towards the one closest to the fire for Aimsey. He set her down, and then turned to Sally.

“I’ll talk to Phil about it. He’s going to be okay, Sal.” She inhaled sharply, but crushed him in a hug, letting the breath out slowly, shoulders trembling. “We’ll get him back.” As soon as he walked outside, he was met with Niki, posing the same question that he now had. When would they get Jack, Ranboo, and Wilbur back?

They decided it was best to find Phil was in his cabin, whichever that was. They wandered into a few houses. He was on the very outskirts, right next to the wall, knelt by a tent. He was completely alone, and didn’t notice as the walked up behind him. The tent, which was more like a tattered piece of cloth barely held up by two sticks, covered two corpses, huddled together in their frozen state. Their skin was gray and sunken in, and one of them, what Techno assumed was a woman, clutched a folded piece of paper.

“What’s that?” Niki asked. Philza started slightly, but Technoblade was the one to grab the paper. The woman’s thumb shattered. He grimaced, and with a single glance, the other two had similar expressions. After unfolding the paper, it exposed a drawing of a house.

“It doesn’t matter. Phil, we need to talk.”

“Ranboo, Wilbur, and Jack are still missing. We came up here to find them, didn’t we?” Niki asked.

“Right. Let's make plans for that.” He said, blinking quickly as he turned away from the corpses. Techno looked back down at the drawing, trying to make sense of it. It looked like a house. A wooden one, with a porch and a rocking chair sitting on it, next to the front door. Why is it so important? He flipped it over, and on the back read 'FATHER INN'.

They entered his cabin. It was so comfortable. The stone fireplace was lit and crackling, and his bed had multiple fur blankets strewn across it. At the side of the bed, Phil’s spare pair of boots laid, one on its side. Across the room was a table with maps, pens, and a stack of books. The one on the top had a leather bookmark sticking out of it, and the title read ‘Art of War’.

A trunk stood next to the hearth, open, and full of his clothes. Phil motioned to the table, inviting Niki and Techno to sit at the spare chairs. Techno took a seat at the one closest to the fire, basking in the warmth.

“Dream followed the bounty hunters that took them. According to him, they’re located in a cabin not too far north of here,” Phil explained, marking an X on the map where Ranboo, Wilbur, and Jack are. Niki nodded, chin held in her hands and mouth straightened into a thin line. A strand of her short pink hair fell right by the corner of her eye.

“When did he follow them?” Techno asked. As far as he could recall, Dream stuck with them for the entirety of the Syndicate fleeing from Pogtopia to the mountains, after the failed train robbery.

“Yesterday afternoon. He was trying to rescue them, but couldn’t. He joined us right as he returned.”

Maybe Technoblade hadn’t maintained the keen eye on all the members like he thought he did.

“So what’s the plan?” Niki asked.

“I say the four of us go after him, two as backup while the others sneak in and break them loose. The house is in the clearing of a forest, so we could stash our horses nearby without them getting noticed.” He circled a space a few inches away from the house, lower on the mountain.

“Did Dream get a good enough look to make a layout of the house? At least, the exterior?” Technoblade asked. Phil furrowed his brows, then left to fetch him.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Niki asked. Her forehead creased and Techno noticed the dark bags encircling her eyes. It looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.

“It’s only been a day, so I think so. Usually, they stick around for a couple days, maybe a week, to question them, and then turn them in. It would be careless to kill them.” Techno explained.

“No, no, no. I know that.” Of course she knew that, she had run with the gang for over a year now, “But would hunters torture them?”

“Most of the time it depends. But if they’re turning them in to Pogtopia police, they’d get arrested for it.”

“Still. Ranboo’s only 17, the idea of him going through that makes me sick. And Jack.. He’s family.” The two joined together, and were joined at the hip anywhere Techno saw them at camp. They shared a room and often returned with hunting trips laden with game, together. Any time he did a job with one, the other was there.

“He’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Phil returned before the conversation could continue, but as the plans developed, Techno couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to Wilbur. He had been captured before, but somehow always avoided the bounty hunters. He was resilient, but as great as his wit was around the Syndicate, as a hostage…

“Techno?” Phil asked. He blinked. The three of them stood, and Dream jerked his head to the door. Were they going right now?

“Let’s go.” He said. Techno nodded, and followed close behind. They waved goodbye to the gang, Sally mouthing a thank you to Techno, and the group set off. Before mounting Carl, he grabbed the reins of Wilbur’s horse, Tallulah, and led her with the rest of them.

The trip was quiet and only took an hour. Philza and Technoblade led them, the other two trailing close behind. They travwelled through the forest, along a creek. The woods were oddly deserted, not a single animal in sight. Below their horses’ feet, patches of grass poked through the snow, which slowly melted away. Around bushes and trees, dew dripped from purple crocuses. Despite the cold and their circumstances, it was quite a pleasant sight.

By midday, they reached the edge of the clearing. Phil stopped abruptly. The other three followed, hopping onto the ground and followed Niki to hide the horses. They crouched down behind a nearby bush to observe the house. Three guards surrounded the small wooden cabin, walking in rounds and scanning the area. From Technoblade’s spot, he could only see the back and right side of the house, and the very end of the porch, held up by small support beams. The entire building was made of wood.

It took a while to recognize the pattern, but soon enough, Techno found a blind spot.

“So who’s going in?” He asked in a hushed voice, barely audible. Behind him, Niki leaned closer to hear. Phil thought for a moment.

“You two.” He instructed, his finger wagging between him and Niki. Techno nodded, then the four turned back to face the cabin. Once the opportunity arose, he dashed over to the wall of the house. Niki followed right behind him, holding a knife. She handed another to him, and when the guard from the back of the house neared them, she threw it.

It lodged in his throat, the blood drowning out any cries. Techno did the same to the guard on that side, but it landed in his chest. He ran to tackle the man, and just barely covered his mouth in time for the man to yell out for help. They waited for a beat.

Silence. Footsteps from the final guard were the only interruption, from the other side of the house. Niki let out a small breath. Techno looked inside the window closest to the porch, and saw three figures, tied down onto chairs. One of them, taller than the rest, had dark hair covering his face. When they looked up, Ranboo’s eyes met his own. The former’s widened, but his head quickly bowed back down to avoid suspicion. A gag covered his mouth.

Niki turned the corner of the house, and a moment later he heard something fall into the snow. Presumably the guard. He glanced back into the window, and watched as the guard inside left the room. Techno took the chance, and hurried in, taking extra care to close the door as quietly as possible.

Jack’s back faced him, but the other two turned their heads to look at the cowboy. Niki entered a second later, and immediately began cutting away the ropes that bound Ranboo to the chair, blood from the knife dripping onto the floor. Techno did the same to Ranboo. The younger of the two finished first, and she moved on to Jack as Ranboo pulled the gag out of his mouth, shuddering.

Niki let out a gasp.

Techno leaned over to look at what happened. The first thing he noticed was the sickening amount of blood staining Jack’s shirt. He looked up to find his face, hardly identifiable with the amount of dried blood and cuts on him, but his eyes were open. They stared into nothing, glassy. Jack was dead.

Chapter Text

“Who’s there?” The bounty hunter yelled from the other room. Techno ran to block the door from opening, shoving his shoulder against it.

“Untie Wilbur. Ran, catch.” He tossed them his own knife, and Ranboo stumbled before catching it. “Get Jack. He needs to be buried properly.”

“I’ll fucking kill you! Purpled! They’re getting loose.” Purpled, probably one of the guards outside, didn’t answer. He was busy letting all his blood drain from his corpse. The door shook, and behind it, the hunter grunted. Techno braced himself stronger, shoudler growing sore. He pressed his entire back against it, a hand on each side of the door frame. Wilbur stood, and Niki picked up Jack’s corpse. Wilbur had a black eye and a busted lip, but other than that, he seemed to be fine. Thank the gods.

“Wilbur, get that dresser in front of the door.” He said, pausing in the middle of the sentence as the hunter shoved his body against the door once again. His younger brother did as told, the large piece of furniture scratching the floor as he dragged it. Once it blocked the door, Niki opened the front door, rushing Ran and Wil out before following.

Technoblade was the last to leave, but heard glass shattering from inside. He led the group to the woods, where Philza and Dream waited for them. The latter pulled out a gun, aiming for someone behind them. Ranboo flinched at the noise, and Tehcno looked back to see the dead body of the final bounty hunter.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry. There’s guards up that way as lookouts. They’ll be on our tails if we’re not fast.” Phil said, and frowned at the sight of Jack’s corpse. He took the body from Niki, setting him on his own horse, Dave. A crow cawed from a distance. So that’s how Phil knew.

Techno tossed Wilbur one of his revolvers, and Ranboo the other. Wil mounted his own horse, and Ran, behind Techno on Carl. They set off. Gunshots pierced the air the moment they did, yelling from strangers dawning on them. Wilbur ducked, just missing a shot to the head. Ranboo turned around to begin shooting back. By the time they made it out of the forest, Dream paused.

“I’ll stay behind to get them off our track.” He shot behind Phil, and a horse whinnied loudy as something crashed down. There was no time to argue about it. The rest ran off, Niki and Wilbur behind Phil and Techno. They only got a few yards away from the edge of the woods when an explosion set off. Both Ranboo and Technoblade flinched hard at the noise, and the latter turned around to see Dream laughing at the sight of bodies burning before following them.

Nobody else followed. His ears rang as they rode off.

“We should split up in case anybody else is here.” Phil explained, pushing a strand of his blonde hair out of his face. Most of it was tied into a small ponytail. Techno nodded.

“Me and Ranboo can go together.” Phil mimicked the action, and the two rode off as the leader of the Syndicate gave the rest of them more instructions. Against Techno’s back, he could feel Ranboo’s chest rise and fall quickly. They rode down the path, before going into the woods once again. Over here, things were peaceful, as if the actions of today had never happened. The adrenaline faded away. Jack was really dead. The gods could only tell how Niki was taking it, now that she didn’t have everybody else’s survival to focus on.

“He was gone before I even woke up. At least, I think so.” Ranboo said.

“How long ago was that?” It had only been two days since the robbery. What did Jack think of when they were captured? When he took his last breaths?

“The sun rose a little afterwards. The last thing I heard him say was that Dream was going to save us.”

“There were too many people for him to take out without risking you guys.”

“I know. I didn’t talk to him much, but today… I thought I was gonna die too.” Techno brought Carl to a stop. Then, he turned to face Ranboo. Their eyes glazed over with tears, and Techno brought him into a hug. Ranboo let out a sob, and his back rose shakily.

“I’ll never let that happen.” He reassured, but Ranboo stayed silent.

“Can we go home?” They asked, and Techno relented, letting go of them and turning back to direct Carl to the town.

*****

Techno awoke to the sound of Ranboo snoring, their bed across the room from his own. He merely sighed, pinching his nose before leaving their cabin. He closed the door slowly, gripping the handle to keep the wind from slamming it shut. Outside, the cold whipped his face.

“Morning!” Kristin waved to him, adjusting the firewood in her arms to do so. He smiled, and reciprocated the action. Then, Techno went to the kitchen, stomach grumbling and tiredness seeping into his head quickly. Coffee. He needed coffee. Inside, stood Beau, Puffy, Tubbo, and Aimsey, who sat in a chair with a blanket around him. The four were chatting, as Tubbo chopped up potatoes and carrots for what Techno guessed would be tonights stew. An empty pot, the height of his legs, stood propped up above a fire.

“Hello.” The young cook was the first to greet Techno, and the other three followed suit. He only nodded, as he grabbed the pot of coffee bubbling right next to the pot of stew, and poured it into an empty tin mug. The vessel warmed his hands, and the drink warmed his mouth and soon, his stomach. The bitter taste of black coffee made him grimace, but there was no milk nor sugar to spare.

“How are you doing?” He asked Aimsey, who shrugged.

“I’m alive. Still fucking cold though. Can you please refill my cup for me?” He pushed his own mug into Techno’s hand, who returned it a moment later, steam emerging from the top.

“Techno. We don’t have much food left. No meat, no fruit, no bread, and I’m using up the last of these to make tonight’s dinner.” Tubbo told him, and he blinked.

“I don’t see how you want me to fix that.”

“Niki’s going hunting, and she needs someone to go with. Unless you just want hardtack and vegetable stew for dinner.” Puffy told him, and he let his head lull back until he looked at the ceiling. It was freezing cold, set to snow either today or tomorrow. But Philza planned to leave as soon as possible, and now that Ranboo and Wilbur were safe, leaving tonight wasn’t impossible. People were probably busy packing. Hardtack was disgusting, as well.

“When?”

Niki walked in, returning her own cup. Her eyes had bags under them, and rimmed with red. Had she been crying? She wore a thick black coat over her clothes, and a blue scarf around her neck. The only weapon she held was her bow, on her back, and her quill, full of arrows. She held another of both in her hands.

“Right now. It’s probably going to take a while.” She said. Should he ask her how she’s feeling? Technoblade debated it for a moment. Not now. Instead, he followed her outside, and when she handed him the extra bow and quill, he accepted it, thanking her. As they passed through the old mining town, more and more members emerged from the houses, the last they saw being Ranboo, who yawned as they left.

He climbed onto Carl, and Niki onto Fungi. He was a light brown colt, an Appaloosa. Back in Pogtopia, she would often let Fundy help her care for him, giving him a stool so he could help brush his fur, and sometimes slipping him sugar cubes to feed the animal with. For the first few moments, they rode in silence. He thought of asking her how she was again. They weren’t exactly close, only having done a few jobs together before. Would it be invasive? Damn it, he should’ve been more insistent when telling Philza not to accept new members. With old folks, it was so much easier. Like Wilbur. Shit, he hasn’t spoken to his own brother since the rescue. He made a mental note to check up on him when they returned. Maybe over dinner.

“We’ll follow the creek. If there’s any animals, they’ll have to be near there.” She said. They had reached the forest, and Techno pushed his glasses up with the butt of his thumb before seeing the small flow of water. The horses stomped through it. Water splashed up onto his boots, luckily not high enough to actually touch him. Despite the harsh cold, more snow had melted, leaving large patches of deep green and even a few more flowers, yellow aconites along with the crocuses.

“So, Niki,” Oh he was really going into this, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Angry. But fine.” She responded curtly. He frowned, looking away from her. Nobody spoke for a few more beats, then she piped up again, “I’m glad Ranboo’s okay. Seems he didn’t get as beat up as Wilbur, huh?”

“Wilbur’s a smartass. I’m surprised he wasn’t more injured.”

“True.” She laughed. It was refreshing to hear.

“So what’s going to make this hunting trip different from the rest. Ranboo and Beau apparently went yesterday while we were gone, but didn’t get anything.”

“Ranboo tried hunting rabbits with a shotgun once, so that doesn’t surprise me. And Beau was probably busy laughing at them.” Niki mentioned. He held back his own chuckle.

“So we’re relying on more skill?”

“And bait. I snagged some grain to attract more. Hopefully it’ll bring some animals closer. I don’t know about big ones, though.” She said, patting the pocket of her coat. It rattled quietly. They continued riding for a few more moments, away from the direction they went yesterday, and instead found themselves in a rockier area. She stopped, and boots crunched against a patch of snow as she neared a boulder. Niki turned back to him, and beckoned him over.

In the snow was a bloody carcass of an animal, trails of blood leaving in multiple directions. He neared it, and upon closer inspection, paw prints led away. Something growled.

“Wolves.” He warned, grabbing his bow. She notched an arrow, back up against his. He scanned the area for them, and one bounded out from his left hand side. His arrow landed in the wolves neck, and Niki’s, in its eye. Before he could celebrate, more approached. One came from behind him, and another from the same direction as the first. He shot the latter, and it landed in his neck once again. It fell, dead. Two more, and Niki shot both.

“Well, I guess we’re gonna have to eat puppies for dinner.” She said. He shrugged, already picking one of the wolf bodies up and plopping it onto Carl’s rump. Then, a bird cood behind him. It was a snowy owl. He notched another arrow to shoot at it, but it fled before he could. He chased after it.

“We have plenty of meat, Techno!” NIki called after him.

“No such thing as too much food!” He retorted. The owl appeared once again, and he shot at it. He missed. It fled again. Techno followed it into a small clearing next to a cliff. It perched on a branch, back to him. Approaching as quietly as he could, he shot it, aiming for the head. The animal dropped dead with a panicked screech. Techno picked it up, snagging a few feathers for himself.

“Technoblade?” Someone asked. He turned around abruptly to find a man standing behind him. He was several inches shorter, and very inappropriately dressed for the weather, only wearing pants and a red sweater. His dirty blonde hair almost covered his brown eyes. Technoblade definitely did not know him.

“Who are you?” He asked, one hand reaching for a gun. The stranger shrugged.

“That was my bird you shot.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh, from all over. Your face decorates the walls of all the nearby towns. You’re wanted for a pretty penny.”

“How do you know me?” Techno repeated, ignoring the annoyingly cryptic responses he was receiving in turn. Had he followed the Syndicate up here? He probably wasn’t a Warden, considering the lack of uniform. “Bounty hunter?”

“I think you have something else of mine.” The stranger said, once again dodging the question.

“What?” He motioned to Techno’s coat. He patted it, and pulled a paper out from his inside pocket. It was the drawing from earlier.

“There’s a young boy that lives in that house, you know. He might die tonight, unless you do something. Robbers.”

“How do you know my name? And how do you know that?”

“Techno?” Niki called. He turned to the source of the sound. She emerged from the treeline, only a few feet away from him, and raised her eyebrows at him. “Who are you talking to?” She asked. He looked back at the stranger. He was gone. There weren’t even footprints left in the snow.

“I- He- Nobody, I guess.” Techno answered. He picked up the snowy owl, and they returned. The ride back to camp was wordless. Who was he? Was it even real? And what the fuck was about the house? He could go, just to check on the kid. No. Maybe it’s from lack of sleep.

Probably.

When they reached the town, they each carried two wolves into the kitchen, then Technoblade went back for the last. Along the way, he ran into Wilbur, who crushed him in a hug. Techno easily reciprocated the action, patting him on the back.

“How are you feeling?” He asked Wil, as the two continued walking back to Carl. He merely shrugged, but didn’t answer the question. He grabbed the wolf by its hind legs and slung it over the shoulder opposite to WIlbur.

“Fine. Sally tore me a new one, though.” Not surprising.

“Good. You talk to Fundy yet?” He asked, plopping the animal down onto the kitchen table, a long wooden one clear of anything else but the pile of the rest of the canines, and the owl. Tubbo wasn’t anywhere to be found. He always found a way to wander off when butchering had to be done. When Puffy first taught him, he burst into tears and didn’t stop crying over the buck for the rest of the day. But Techno didn’t mind doing it.

Wilbur didn’t answer. Techno sighed, taking out his hunting knife, and began to skin the first. It was methodic, although the blood spatter was… unpleasant. It got on his face, and he wiped it off onto the sleeve of his dark red coat. Maybe Phil was right in dressing him in reds and blacks. Blood never showed.

“Wilbur.”

“I know.”

“You know, but you don’t. Go look for him. He was worried sick when you were gone. They both were.” Techno told him. Wil stayed for a few more seconds, reluctant. After realizing Techno was serious, he left. Disappointment set in quickly. He distracted himself by skinning the next wolf. In the years before Fundy was born, and even before he met Sally, Wilbur was insistent that he’d be a better dad than his own father, who had abandoned him early on. In fact, from what he told Techno, he was around Fundy’s age.

After finishing butchering all the meat, he called Tubbo back in, who was talking with Beau and Ranboo. Everybody was busy; Sally and Kristin were packing up medical supplies on the doorstep of one of the houses, the former loading the crates back into the wagon. Puffy, emerging from Phil’s cabin, hollered at Ranboo and Beau to get back to work. They rushed off, in the direction of Techno and Ranboo’s cabin. A second later, they emerged, carrying boxes of ammunition to the wagons.

Phil. He could talk to Phil.

Like always, his cabin was warm. One of Kristin’s dresses was laid out on the chair closest to the fire, which was once again, roaring. Phil sat across from it, reading ‘The Art of War’. He glanced up at Techno, and smiled, immediately closing the book. What was it about?

“Hunting go well?”

“Yeah. Are we leaving soon? Everybody’s packing shit up.” Phil nodded. Thank the gods. “Tomorrow night. They’re getting everything we don’t need ready to save time.”

“Where are we going?”

“Niki, Aimsey, and I have decided that Logstedshire would be best. It’s a small town just a little ways south of here. They’re not exactly ridden with police.”

“That’s good.” He said, for lack of anything better. Phil eyed him carefully.

“You’re awfully quiet. Is everything okay, mate?”

“Yeah.”

No. The whole thing with that stranger in the woods today hadn’t left his mind. Was it even real?

“You’re not a good liar, Techno.” Phil prompted with a gentle, slightly teasing smile.

“I saw this man in the woods today… He had no coat on or anything. Didn’t even look cold.” Why does that even matter? That’s not even the brunt of it. Was he telling the truth about the boy? “He- He knew about the drawing.” At this, his eyebrows raised. Oh, gods.

“The one I found?”

“Yeah. He said a kid lived there. And that he would die. If- It doesn’t matter. When Niki came, he disappeared. I think it’s just sleep deprivation or something.” Techno waved away his worries as swiftly as he could. Philza had plenty onn his plate. He didn’t need to worry about him hallucinating or whatever happened.

“Maybe.”

That’s it?

“Y’know Phil, I was kind of expecting some advice.” Techno admitted with a chuckle. Phil laughed along, tossing his head back.

“What do you think you should do?”

“I have no idea. If what he said about the boy is true, then…”

“It’s just a kid. If it’s true, it’s not your fault if he dies. If it’s not, then you save yourself time anyways.”

“I don’t think I’d be saving any time, if I’m thinking about it all the time.”

Phil pondered this for a moment, eyes drifting to his lap. When they reached the book, they lit up. He handed the book to Techno.

“To take your mind off it. Try getting some sleep, too, mate.” And with that, Technoblade was gently ushered out of Phil’s cabin, and back to his own. ‘The Art of War’. It was leatherbound, and green, the title embossed in gold text. It was heavy enough to take someone out, like a brick almost. He could try giving it a read. Phil always gave good recommendations, like that one encyclopedia he gifted Techno about flora and fauna. The drawings were beautiful, and hand painted.

Inside his empty cabin, he read. To be completely fair, it was an interesting read. War strategy, from some ancient general. However, as much effort as he’d put into reading, the encounter clung on. Would it be that bad to just go check? If nothing happens, no harm, no foul. It’s not like he has anything to do until tomorrow anyway. Plus, he’d be able to avoid being assigned any chores by Puffy or Tubbo.

Well, when he put it like that, maybe going was for the best.

He didn’t even know where the house was though. The only clue was the writing on the back. Plus, it could be a trap. If the man really was a bounty hunter or even a Warden, then what? Jack died in their captivity, and he wasn’t even of high rank, merely a scout that cared for the horses. The only thing that kept Wilbur alive is how little he goes out on jobs. He mainly handled the money, distributing it to all the members equally, and making sure there was enough to cover expenses.

But if he was telling the truth, what could they possibly rob from just some kid? Techno could snag the valuables for himself. The gang was running dangerously low on money anyways, so even if Phil found out that he went, the money would make up for it. Plus, there’s no way that a bounty hunter would know about the drawing, unless they’ve been watching all along. At that point, they would’ve already raided and arrested everyone.

Fuck it. The Syndicate could use the money.

He left the book on his nightstand before heading off to Carl once again. The horse eyed him, probably annoyed at having to do so much work today. Pogtopia had turned him lazy, as it was easy enough for Techno to walk everywhere, and Carl got to lounge around the camp. Whatever. He climbed on, and nobody noticed as he left.

From the writing on the drawing, it was probably nearby, within a few hours of here. South of the Prime Mountain. After only a couple hours of wandering, Techno, or rather, Carl, stumbled upon a narrow, beaten path. Considering there wasn’t anything else in the area, he followed it. And it led right up to the house.

It looked exactly like the drawing: a shabby, wooden cabin with a rocking chair on the porch, and a lamp hanging from the roof. What looked like vines crawled up the side of the house, except they were completely rid of leaves, simple brambles. The curtains were drawn, one window boarded up. A patch of tiling on the roof was missing, also covered with planks of wood. A small path led up to the house.

So… what does Techno do now? As if the gods answered his question for him, he heard rustling coming from one of the bushes. Could be an animal, but with how long the Syndicate had been hunting for food, he was doubtful. So instead, he grabbed his bow - Did he really forget to prepare with a better weapon? - and notched an arrow, sneakily approaching the source of the noise.

Back inside the woods hid three men, all wearing the matching uniform of black coats and golden yellow scarves. What the fuck were Billiam’s men doing all the way out here? He slowed. While ducked behind a tree, Techno listened. They giggled like schoolgirls, talking about what they would buy with the money. For gods’ sakes, the stranger was right. At least now he had justification for Phil.

“-he’s the preacher’s son, of course there’s money. Religious shit too.”

“‘Religious shit’?” The other responded, in a mocking tone, “How valuable.”

“You know what I mean. Gold crosses and the like, I guess.”

“Ooh! We could melt that!” The third exclaimed, only to be hurriedly shushed by the other two. More giggling ensued.

“Whether there’s money or not, at least we’re out of that cramped ass cabin.”

“True! The dynamite was making me antsy.” More shushing. Dynamite?

Techno peeked behind the tree. Two of them crept forward, towards the house. He immediately shot the remaining one, right in the eye. His expression barely had the chance to morph into terror at the sight of him before dying. He prepared another arrow, but didn’t shoot. They were too far, the possibility of missing would mean gunshots. Bullets, as loud as they were, would probably kill him before he could even draw his bow once more. Plus, Techno was still on the fence about stealing from this boy himself. If it was true, then the money could help, right?

They now stood at the window of the house. Right as Techno was about to shoot another, a loud bang came from inside. And then a scream. He flinched, and the arrow landed right in a tree. Right in the line of sight of the two outside. Just his luck. He notched another arrow, shot it, and ran over to the corpse of the first to grab his gun. When he looked back, one of them was crying in pain while digging an arrow out of their gut. Techno shot the other member in the head. The final man’s body hit the snow not even a second later.

And of course, the gunshots brought whoever was inside out. He was a burly man, ginger, with the matching black coat and gold scarf. Great. He raised his gun to shoot, within a split second, burning pain tore through Techno’s shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t his dominant. Also luckily, he managed to kill him before he could get another shot into Techno’s brain. Now he had to take the money. Retribution. Ignoring the feeling of blood dripping down his arm, inside his coat, he entered the house.

Behind a table, a young boy laid on the floor, back propped up against a wall. Blood spattered the white paint above him, and stained his shirt. It spilled out as his fingers desperately tried to stop it. The metallic scent clung onto the air, as well as rot. The boy’s eyes were wide open, ever so blue, and stared into Technoblade’s own. Bruises spotted his arms, as well as his eye. He also sported a busted lip. Tears rolled over it, mixing with the blood.

“K-Kill me, pl-please. Fast.” He begged. If he was shot from afar, what’s the rest of his injuries from? No matter. Techno pulled out his gun, and the boy squeezed his eyes shut while forcing out a breath. Despite the obvious effort to keep it even, it shook. He paused for a beat. And then another. And soon, he was frozen in place, gun pointed right at the kid’s forehead. Techno’s eyes trailed away, and to the other corpse, laying in the doorframe behind the blonde. He looked back at the kid. Was he always clutching that shattered bottle? As if he didn’t have enough injuries, the glass cut into his palm.

More shards of glass stuck out of the other body’s neck. His face was hidden. His chest did not move. The boy’s eyes opened once more. They followed Techno’s and landed on the body he was staring at. He quickly averted his gaze.

“I… I killed him. I killed my father.” He admitted, letting out a sob as he winced in pain from the action. Shit.

He stormed through the house, searching for medical supplies. He could just kill the kid and leave, taking the money and returning to camp before nightfall. Techno barged through the kitchen cabinets. The Syndicate was already spread so thin on supplies, with Aimsey recovering from freezing, and Ranboo and Wilbur recovering from the bounty hunters. None there. He searched the bedrooms, stepping over the father’s dead body before going into the second bedroom. There was not a single bandage in the entire cabin.

Phil would literally kill him if he brought this kid back. The boy forced in another breath, slower. Techno ripped off his scarf, grabbed a bottle of burbon from the father’s nightstand, and returned to him. Phil wouldn’t mind. He took Technoblade himself during a more desparate time in his own life. Upon closer inspection, the blood came out of a wound from his gut, presumably where the Billiam had shot him. Techno did everything he could to avoid thinking about the bruises. He doused the scarf in bourbon, and then pressed it to the wound as hard as he could. The boy let out a cry, hand gripping Techno’s and nails digging into his skin.

“Don’t look at it. What’s your name?” Techno asked, attempting to scoop the kid up while still holding pressure on the gunshot.

“Tommy.” He said. Tommy passed out before they even left the house.

Chapter Text

Technoblade arrived at the Syndicate’s camp coatless and scarfless, his entire body shaking as he carried Tommy into their makeshift doctor’s office. Kristin, who was dabbing something onto Wilbur’s arm, gasped at the sight of the two of them, and instantly stood from the bed opposite Wilbur, grabbing bandages and a blanket. Wil also stood, and took the boy’s unconscious body from Techno, who stumbled his way to a bed. Kristin shrouded him in a blanket. The two were talking, urgency hanging in the air, but Techno couldn’t make sense of anything. He just stared at the fire in front of him.

It was so warm. The adrenaline had completely drained itself from his system, pain from his own gunshot wound and exhaustion seeping in. Outside, nightfall had already descended, the last remainders of dusk leaving the sky. Techno’s own busy thoughts, silent as his eyes fluttered shut. They quickly opened again when Kristin slapped him across the face, hard.

“Techno. What happened!?” She asked. Her brows furrowed together as she stared at Techno.

“I- I ran into some of Billiam’s men out by a cabin, and they… they shot the kid. Tommy.” “Why were you out by a cabin? What are Billiam’s men doing out here?” Wilbur asked behind him, taking off Techno’s coat, wrapped around his shoulders, and face paling at the sight of the blood stained shirt.

“Could they be following us?” Kirstin wondered, mainly to Wilbur. Techno shook his head.

“There were only three of them, and what I could tell, they were plannin’ to rob somebody richer probably. They had dynamite, which they wouldn’t really need to use if they’re here for us.”

“Wilbur, go get someone to help.” Kristin commanded, and he immediately did as told. She yelled over her shoulder right before he walked out the door, “And Phil too!” Then, she walked straight up to Tommy, pulling her black skirts aside as she weaved between the beds. She removed the scarf and his shirt, and scrunched her face in sympathy at the sight of him.

“Are you injured at all?” She asked Techno, as she dipped a rag in a bucket of water. He nodded.

“One of ‘em got me on my shoulder. It won’t kill me.” At this, her shoulders loosened slightly, although still tense. Tommy’s entire torso was covered in blood, which she slowly cleaned away. Another rag laid on his bullet wound to keep any blood from coming out. The door barged open.

“What the fuck happened?” Phil asked, immediately joining Kristin’s side, but facing Technoblade, who avoided his gaze. Phil knew perfectly well what happened. Niki and Wilbur shuffled in afterwards, the former going right to Techno, the latter returning to Tommy and Kristin. Wilbur had always been close with Kirstin, and even as a young teen, watched her soothe fevers and give stitches to Techno whenever he got too ambitious in fights. By the time he was twenty, he had become an apprentice of sorts to her, as well as managing the finances.

“I went to see the house. The man was right. Billiam’s men were robbing it. Inside, Tommy was bleeding out, after being shot by one of them.” Techno explained once again. Philza pinched his nose. Kristin, ignoring their conversation, instructed Niki to help Techno with his own bullet wound. She helped him take off his shirt.

From the amount of time it had been there, his entire shoulder was bloody, much like Tommy, but there was only a small, rounded wound a couple inches above his left armpit. Niki inspected it closely as she cleaned the area, but didn’t seem to be too concerned. Techno hissed, gritting his teeth, when the whiskey met the wound. She gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be as quick as I can. But it doesn’t look like it did much damage.” She reassured him. Despite everything else that was going on, the final sentence brought him a great amount of peace. Dying just to add a mouth to feed that replaced his own, and not even any money in return, would be a humiliating way to go. Not to mention the idea of mortality and such.

“Techno, we’ll talk about this later.” Phil said, and left soon after, only sparing a few words to his wife as she aided Tommy. By now, she had already begun stitches, Wilbur was rooting through a crate of their final medical supplies, searching for anything to numb the pain. Whether it was for Technoblade or Tommy, he had no idea.

“Your arm is probably going to hurt like a bitch. Carrying a near dead kid around for hours wasn’t a good idea.” She told him.

“Tommy. And I didn’t really think about that.” He forced ut an answer, dand then went back to biting his lip. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth within seconds.

“I mean it could be broken. Your shoulder definitely is.”

Fuck. He let her do her work.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Techno asked. She paused for a split second, hands hovering above the needle and thread, before resuming and composing herself.

“Jack used to get into fights all the time. Soon enough, he was picking on people he knew he’d lose against, and ended up getting shot. It’s a miracle he’s still- he lived as long as he did anyways.” Niki explained. A pang of guilt spread from the pit of his stomach to literally everywhere else, and he avoided her gaze. The rest of the night proceeded without conversation, The silence was only interrupted by Kristin’s instructions to Wilbur, and Techno’s muffled sounds of pain during the stitches. Wilbur poured him a glass of the whiskey, only to get told off by their mother. Techno drank it anyway.

By midnight, Wilbur, Kristin, and Niki stopped swarming the other two, and left them to sleep. Techno didn’t mind the change of surroundings all that much, unlike usual, as it was far warmer than in his own cabin. He stared out the window as he drifted off to sleep, watching the snowfall and looking at the stars. He tried to make a game of identifying as many constellations as he could, but he rendered it useless from the small view the window provided. Oh well. The sling made falling asleep near impossible, but by the time the very first shadows of pink painted the sky, his eyes drifted shut.

The Sydnicate left at noon, Technoblade only waking up a few moments before. Before he really understood what was happening, he was sitting next to Sally on a wagon, reins in his hand, and Fundy in her lap. The only one ahead of them was Niki, holding a map. He spent most of the journey asleep. The sling dug into his shoulder. He propped himself up against the small wall of wood behind him and Sally’s shoulder. Birds chirped as they progressed, and the only things interrupting his shallow naps was Niki’s voice calling out directions and Fundy’s own snores.

They arrived at sundown. Niki chose the spot, a small clearing nestled between the mountains and a small patch of forest hiding them from any passerbies on the nearby path. A creek ran through the middle, emerging from the mountain and heading down south. Dandelions sprung up from the grass. The lack of snow brought a sleepy smile to Techno’s face. As soon as they stopped, the commotion of establishing themselves began.

Puffy announced instructions to anyone who would listen. Before long, everyone was busy doing something. Wilbur set up the horse hitches. Tubbo and Beau were directing Skeppy, who was driving the wagon laden with their food, to the left hand side of the camp, at the edge in front of the mountainside. Then the three carried a table. Kristin set up her own little office, with the help of Aimsey and Beau, plopping bedrolls down onto the ground and cots on top of empty crates, and then a small, round table with their medicine and other supplies. Aimsey beckoned Techno over.

“Do you guys need help carrying Tommy?” He asked. The three of them looked at him as if he just suggested dropping him into the creek instead.

“You’re not allowed to do any heavy lifting.” Kristin said, instead ushering him to a wooden chair next to the supply table. “I just need to check your shoulder.”

Aimsey began a pitiful attempt at lifting the kid, but as soon as Sally saw, she took over, scooping him up with ease and plopping him down onto the cot. Tommy barely even stirred, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. Sweat made his blonde hair cling to his forehead, and he kept the same clothes, a blood stained shirt and blue pants. His body trembled. Someone almost immediately tossed a blanket over him.

Once Technoblade’s shoulder was freed from the bandages, Kristin seemed rather satisfied, pulling out new ones and dousing them in what he assumed was medicine. Her eyes darted over to Tommy, which dampened her mood.

“Is he okay?” Techno asked.

“His wound’s infected. All I can really do is wait and try to ease the fever.” Fuck. “But try not to worry, I’ve seen people pull through worse situations before. Yours, however, is healing quite nicely. You should be able to lose the sling in a few weeks.”

“I thought I broke a bone?” He definitely felt like he did. His shoulder ached, a dull, throbbing pain running all the way down to his fingertips and across his collarbone.

“No, it’s only fractured. A small break, not even all the way through. It should be fine, as long as you don’t use your arm.” Kristin explained.

Techno nodded, and looked back at Tommy’s sleeping form. His chest rose and fell steadily, despite the worrying condition. Kristin also turned back to him, gently taking the blanket off his torso, and lifting his shirt up. His bandages were stained with a sickly yellow, along with the familiar rusty red of blood. She peeled them off, but unlike Techno, who grimaced, was unaffected by the smell. He looked away before he saw what hid beneath the bandages.

Aimsey and Bill had already wandered off, the former going to help Dream and Puffy set up everyone’s tents, and the latter followed Tubbo to help set up the kitchen. The two joined Skeppy and Beau, who were now carrying the long, wooden table to the wagon. They set it down a few feet in front of it. Sally, however, stayed, following Kristin’s directions to dress the bandages and dispose of the others.

Techno fought back a yawn. He’d slept well over 12 hours today already, why was he so tired? Maybe helping Tommy took more out of him than he thought. He got up to leave, right as Phil left his own tent, the largest of all, and in the middle of everything. The canvas was pulled back to reveal his own bed, desk, and bookshelf. He beckoned everyone to him, the only exceptions being the three that remained in Kristin’s tent. Great. He had a knack for his speeches, and usually Techno would watch, excitement bubbling up inside him, but now all that was there was the annoyed exasperation of someone cranky from lack of sleep.

“This is our new start. Spring is blooming, and we are growing back stronger than ever. It’ll take some effort, and some work, but I’m sure we’ll pull through. We honor those we’ve lost along the way with rebuilding and learning to thrive again.” The second he began speaking, everybody gathered around to listen. They all nodded as he continued, while Techno stared at the grass. A drop of dew fell from a blade of grass into the soil.

Techno went to bed.

Chapter Text

“So… the plan is to poke the sleeping bear?” Technoblade asked Phil. The two, along with Dream, Skeppy, and Aimsey, stood around Phil’s table as the leader of the Syndicate explained the group’s instructions to search and raid wherever the Billiams were holed up. His flaxen hair was down, a few strands hanging in his face, and he wore a green button down shirt with the typical black slacks. A gold pendant hung from his chest, like usual. The only other jewelry he wore was the matching emerald earring as Techno’s own, and his wedding ring, a simple gold band.

“Look, for all we know, they could be onto the biggest score of the decade. And there’s nothing to worry about if you all are careful.” Phil countered.

“Alright.” He gave in.

“You meet up at Tommy’s house, and split up from there. When you find the place, immediately clear it out. We don’t know how much time we have to do so.” Skeppy nodded.

“When do we leave?” Aimsey asked.

“Noon. It’ll be easier for them to miss you if it’s dark.” And with that, the plans were set. The group left his tent. “And Techno,” Phil called over the former’s shoulder, right before he stepped onto the dirt ground. Technoblade paused, but said nothing. “Don’t hurt your arm, yeah? I asked Dream to keep you off that arm.”

“Yeah.”

He glanced at Kristin’s tent, a little ways behind Phil’s own. She wasn’t there. Techno entered cautiously, observing Tommy. The kid awoke early last night. Techno still hasn’t spoken a single word to him. Should he have? He doesn’t owe this kid anything, what is he talking about?

“How are you feeling?” The words somehow found their way out of Technoblade’s mouth by themselves. Tommy, quite honestly, looked like shit. His hair clung down to his forehead and temples, and his face was paler than his sheets. The kid shook his head slowly, closing his eyes as he did so. His head gently fell back onto the pillow.

“Bad.”

“I’d think so. Has Kristin, the lady taking care of you, checked your wounds today?” He asked again. An empty cup stood on the table, which Techno turned away from the kid to grab. Tubbo’s main job, other than making dinner daily, was keeping a steady supply of clean, boiled water. Tommy nodded right before the man left to fetch some water.

It had already cooled to room temperature, luckily. He gently lowered the cup to Tommy’s cracked lips, and the kid immediately drank.

“Would you like me to help you sit up?” Another nod. He wasn’t exactly sure if Tommy should, but Technoblade hoped Kristin would rush in and tell him off if he shouldn’t. If it hurt, he could always lay back down, Techno grabbed onto Tommy’s right arm, and the kid hoisted himself up with a muffled yelp.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Kristin’s working on getting you medicine to help with the pain.” He wasn’t exactly sure about that, but she made a comment about it that morning. “But for now, drink.”

“Okay.” He murmured. The cup was empty within seconds. Tommy immediately laid back down afterwards.

“I just- I don’t know what to do,” Sally said with a sniffle. Her voice shook. Both Tommy and Techno went dead silent at the noise.

“What do you mean?” Puffy asked her in a gentle voice.

“With the Wardens and the police… and Wilbur just getting back from hunters, what if Fundy gets hurt?” She let out a sob.

“Oh, Sally, it’s going to be okay.” The two went quiet for a second, the only thing breaking up the silence being Sally’s cries.

“Just- Just think about what’s most important and… plan for that.”

Another sniffle. And then a trembling thanks.

“I’m always here, Sal. For anything.” The conversation ended at that. What was Techno doing eavesdropping? He immediately turned back to Tommy, whose blue eyes shone with confusion. Techno shook his head, refusing to explain.

Both Puffy and Kristin approached soon after, the former’s hands full with bandages and dressings. Techno took that as his cue to leave, his stomach grumbling as he headed off to the kitchen. Hopefully Tubbo would take pity on him and sneak him something that wasn’t the thin, watery gruel they usually ate for breakfast. Maybe Phil was right in his pursuit with whatever the Billiams were doing. At least then they’d be able to afford actual food.

Before Techno even noticed the time passing, it was already noon, Skeppy waving him over to the hitches. He climbed onto Carl’s saddle. Despite the spring weather of Logstedshire, he wore his black overcoat. The suffocating warmth of it drove him crazy. Fortunately, the farther they rode up the mountains, the cooler the weather became, and within the hour, he was already clutching his scarf closer to him.

Skeppy rode next to him, Aimsey and Dream behind them. As they were passing through the path between the cliff and forest, a smug smile popped up on his face, and he pulled down the blue bandana to show his mouth. Skeppy began to speak.

“You will never fucking guess who was just elected mayor in L’Manburg.”

“Isn’t that some town on the east coast? Why would that matter?” Techno thought back on the only time he’d ever seen the city. Back then, it wasn’t much of a city, walls surrounding the place and only a few buildings, but it was rather pleasant. The mention of it brought back a wave of nostalgia he hadn’t even considered. After all, he spent an entire summer trying to wingman Wilbur into Sally’s heart.

“Schlatt.”

Techno almost stopped Carl right in his tracks. Schlatt was a former… lover of his brother. Lover was a strong word, considering they spent more time arguing and threatening to leave each other than actually enjoying each others’ time. But in the off moments, he was funny and relatively nice to be around. After all, he was Puffy’s brother.

“You’re joking.”

“I swear on my horse, I’m not. I’ll show you the newspaper clipping when we get back.”

“When did this happen?” Maybe, if Technoblade was lucky, Wilbur already found out, and had plenty of time to deal with the news while being held hostage. Or at least distracted enough from it to not think of anything stupid to do.

“While we were busy being chased down by cops, I guess.” At the mention of Pogtopia, the mood immediately dampened. Dream and Skeppy were the only ones out of the four there. On the bright side, Techno had plenty of time to ask them what happened. Phil wasn’t exactly being open about it.

“So what happened back there? In Pogtopia?” He asked tentatively. Skeppy’s smile quickly faded.

“I don’t even know, Tech. Everything was going well, and then suddenly Wardens were all over the place.”

“Do you think it was a trap?” Skeppy didn’t answer, but Dream piped up.

“Even if it was, they weren’t exactly productive. We’ve only lost one member since then.” At the best of times, Techno envied his confidence. Mostly, however, it just annoyed the shit out of him. He didn’t really get why Phil was so eager at the prospect of Dream joining anyways.

“I guess,” Techno replied noncommittally.

“I’m just hoping this job doesn’t end with any Wardens at all.” Skeppy said, changing the subject.

“Considering Billiam’s men took the time to nestle themselves all the way up here, probably not.” Aimsey chimed in.

“Yeah, but they’re stupid enough to talk about it in public.” Techno rebutted. They all laughed.

He downed a can of peaches right before they arrived at Tommy's house. Being in the area made him wary of it coming back up. With the freezing cold of early spring in the mountains, he supposed the corpses had barely begun to rot. It has been two weeks. Whatever. They weren’t searching the premises anyways.

“So I say we split up into pairs and go east and west,” Aimsey suggested.

“I’ll go with Techno, if you two are fine together.” Skeppy answered. Techno let out the tiniest sigh of relief. He always barely stumbled his way through conversation with people he didn’t know well. Wilbur was pretty much the only exception, with the two of them getting along swimmingly the second they met.

“Sure, We’ll go this way.” He nodded, pointing past Dream’s head westwards. They headed off, and Techno followed Skeppy around the busted animal pens. Who tended to cattle in the middle of the mountains? The treeline of a forest faced them, looking almost identical to the one he had encountered that stranger in a few weeks ago.

Just thinking of him made Techno uneasy, a chill running down his spine. He tried not to think about him. But the questions remained in the back of his mind.

Before he could consider it further, something thunked against his nosebridge and Techno went flying off the back end of his horse, onto the ground. The snow padded his fall somewhat, thank the gods, but he was definitely going to feel it later. Skeppy burst into laughter, hopping off his own horse and extending his hand to help his friend up.

“Ow.” Was all Techno could get out, as he shifted his weight to grab Skeppy’s hand with his good arm. He almost stumbled on the way up, but with some more help, he righted himself onto Carl’s back once more. His nosebridge hurt. A lot. For fuck’s sake. He turned around to see what hit him, to find a low hanging tree branch. Of course.

“Are you okay?” Skeppy asked through giggles.

“No.” Techno’s eyes watered as he muttered out an ashamed thank you for the handkerchief Skeppy offered. He brought it to his nose to catch any potential blood.

They continued riding. By chance, Techno glanced up to notice a thin column of smoke emerging from the woods and up to the sky. Perfect. The two approached a tall cabin, with several small structures surrounding it. The only within Techno’s view was a stable. They snuck up the side, until they were perpendicular to the entrance. Then, Skeppy got off his horse, and helped Techno to do the same.

“I’ll go in first and keep the attention on me, just make sure nobody gets past us, okay?” He told Techno.

“Yeah. Okay.” He answered absentmindedly. Not like he was exactly able to do much in the first place, with his arm.

And just like that, Skeppy turned back to the house. Someone walked outside, and fell to the ground a second later, the only thing giving his death away being a gunshot. Techno hoped Dream and Aimsey would hear all the commotion and come find them. Not that he didn’t trust Skeppy, but with his arm…

Skeppy shot another man, who had his own gun aiming right at Techno’s skull. Fuck. They began slowly approaching the house. Techno really only killed a few people, meanwhile Skeppy pretty much carried him on his back. He shot three off the balcony, one right after another. Then, one coming out from the door, and one shooting from a window. A few steps closer. Techno got someone sneaking up from behind them. Skeppy shot another two, and then ran in. He followed.

In the midst of the chaos, Techno turned at the sound of a familiar voice. He let out a small exhale of relief at the sight of a short person in a black hat covering them from the outside. Aimsey. Just like clockwork, Dream busted through a side entrance, and within minutes, every single one of the Billiams occupying the cabin were dead.

Maybe Phil was right to let Dream join.

The three began searching the place. It was a rather nice house, with two floors and a brick hearth, roaring with fire. Well furnished, despite pretty much everything torn and covered in bullets and gunpowder now. Aimsey walked in, looking around before immediately going for the stairs. Techno, on the other hand, went through the kitchen cabinets. Sure, the dynamite was almost definitely not next to their surprisingly large stash of canned beans, but maybe Tubbo could make chili with them.

A crash sounded from upstairs, followed by a muffled yell. Aimsey’s. Techno darted up the stairs to find a remaining member on top of her, fist raised, ready to punch. Aimsey’s nose bled, it dripped onto the floor and their scarf. Techno tackled him, and a disgusting crack came from the impact of Techno’s fist meeting the man’s nose. He then moved to Aimsey, pulling him away, and the second he wasn’t looking, shot Billiam’s lackey in the head. Both of them panted.

“Y’all alive?” Skeppy asked, head poking up from between the banister supports. Aimsey nodded, breathless.

“Yeah. Thank you, Techno.” She said, “Sorry I had to get you into this. Is your arm okay?”

“It’s fine, you’re new. And my arm’s good.” Techno said, pulling Aimsey up from the floor before helping him search the rooms upstairs.

Chapter Text

“I found the dynamite!” Dream exclaimed happily. The two rushed down the stairs to find the blonde’s legs sticking out from the fireplace, and his face covered in soot as he smiled at the three crates full of it, also dirty. Did they seriously put fucking explosives in the fireplace? With it lit?

“There’s no way they actually hid it right above the fire. They can’t be that stupid.” Aimsey said behind him, almost as if she read his mind. Dream merely laughed.

“To be fair, it was really high up. I pretty much had to climb the walls.” He said, standing up and dusting the ash off his face.

“Well, I’m just happy it didn’t blow up,” Skeppy said, standing next to a table covered in schematics and plans. He gathered as many as he could, bundling them up into his arms. Techno walked over, taking what remained into his own hands. The four left, Aimsey helping him climb onto Carl’s saddle before getting on his own, a splotchy white and tan horse named Nelson, who had a braided mane.

“I hope we get to camp soon, I’m absolutely starving.” He said as they all set off.

Fortunately for Aimsey, they arrived by sundown. Both he and Techno made a mad dash for Tubbo standing at a large pot, full of stew. The latter picked up his bag, dumping out the contents of supplies onto the table behind the young cook. Then, with a steaming bowl in hand, he returned to his tent.

For some reason, Tommy sat on his bed, swinging his legs as he examined the place. His face lit up at the sight of Techno, who smiled while holding back a sigh. Great. From all the action of today, he just wanted to hermit himself away, eat, and sleep until noon. Wait- wasn’t he bedridden with an infection this morning?

“Hi Technoblade!” He greeted him with a wave.

“Hi.” Techno answered, for lack of anything better. Before long, his confusion got the best of him. “You feeling better?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, Kristin gave me some medicine, so I’ve been pretty good.”

Techno wondered what she gave him. He could use that instead of coffee in the mornings. The drink was always so bitter anyways. Tommy spoke like he had just been injected with caffeine itself. He stood from the bed, and Techno took his place, nodding as the kid spoke and just shoveling mouth into his food so he wouldn’t have to speak. Conversation was so much easier when he was just taking care of some sick child.

“Oh, who’s this?” Tommy asked, picking up a framed photo that rested on the dresser. Techno’s heart skipped a beat watching Tommy handle it with such carelessness, and stood up to take it from him.

“Don’t touch that.” He told him, glancing down at the people in the photo. It was him, his father, and his younger sister. He was barely ten at the time, face still round and pudgy and glasses too big for him. He looked back at Tommy, the fond smile fading.

“Sorry. Anyways..” Tommy backed off quickly like a dog with its tail between its legs, and quickly changed the subject; “Your area is… nice. Are you a writer?” He asked again, nodding towards the open notebook on the desk. Techno closed it shut as quickly as he could, cheeks warming.

“No. I just- i just write sometimes. Don’t look at it, please.” He said. Thank the motherfucking gods, Puffy found Tommy a moment later.

“Tommy! I need to change your bandages, come here.” And with that, the kid left. He felt like a whirlwind of happy go lucky noseyness had just perfectly managed to dig through the most personal parts of Techno’s life and inspect them for himself. So Techno did what he could, looking around his tent and making sure things were in order between bites. He did a double take at the mug on the dresser.

It was full of fresh irises, all shades of blues, purples, and pinks. Niki. He had seen her do the same for Sally, Jack, and Ranboo, and the thought of her taking the time for him filled his chest with warmth. Techno beamed. And then Wilbur yelled. Not at him, but because Techno was the glorified relationship coach for his marriage, despite never having been in a relationship in his life, he poked his head outside his tent to look at the commotion.

“It would be fucking nice! If you paid attention to him!” Sally yelled, and Wilbur waved his hand indignantly. The two stood across the camp, in Sally’s tent. Techno glanced around for Fundy, who was playing with Ranboo and Tommy. Good.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t be a perfect father. But I have other things to do!”

“Like what, hm? Fucking- messing around with that goddamned guitar? It would take an hour to spend time with him. You didn’t even remember his birthday!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, when are you going to let that go? It happened two months ago.”

“Maybe when you plan to be a father. And don’t give me that shit, you’re not a father at all.” Sally finished, and stormed off to Techno. Fuck. If there was anything worse than the cold, it was dealing with angry people. She huffed in frustration, sitting down with her back against his bed and her knees tucked up to her chest.

“You need to sort your goddamned brother out.”

“What did he do this time?” He asked. It was a stupid question, a more fitting one would be what he didn’t do.

“What do you fucking think?” She snapped, and pinched her nose “Sorry. I’m going on a walk. Tell Kristin, please.” And with that, she left, walking out and away from the camp, in the direction of the horses. Techno, however, looked back at his brother. Right as his eyes landed on him, a string of the guitar in Wilbur’s hands made a loud twang as it broke, curling up. Wilbur flinched away from it, and yelled angrily as he set it back down.

Techno didn’t have enough energy to deal with this.

*****

The next morning, Philza beckoned him over once more, now leading him into the group of Niki, Dream, Bill, and Sally. They all sat around a table near Tubbo’s kitchen, where a pot of coffee bubbled over the fire and Tommy helped the brunette chop carrots. They both gave Techno a cheerful wave as he made his way over with his mug, pouring it full before returning to the table. He ignored their bickering as he tried his best to focus on what Phil said.

“So the train is coming through this pass here, and Dream’s going to blow the tracks.” He explained, placing a small green button on top of a drawing of a railroad. He then picked up one of the two pink ones, and the orange one, setting them on one side of the tracks, next to the mountains.

“Sally and Techno will be on this side, going through cars from here to the end, and then Niki’s here to keep the passengers in check.” Phil placed the other pink button down right onto the tracks. “Me and Bill are going to clear out the rest of the cars,” The red and green buttons moved to the opposite side as Techno and Sally’s. “Dream, after taking care of the dynamite, is going to be keeping watch. When we hear the signal, we leave.”

The green button moved to the left side, farther from the tracks and closer to the forest.

“The second any Wardens or police come, we leave. I don’t wanna take any chances with Niki and Bill here.”

“I’m not a liability Phil, I’ll be okay.” Niki spoke up, but Phil shook his head with a smile.

“Going hunting isn’t the same as killing people. If things go to shit, you stick with Techno and Sally. Bill, you stay with me or Dream.” Phil often did this, splitting the two of them up. Logically, it made sense, considering they were two of the most skilled marksmen in the Syndicate, along with the sheer amount of time they’ve spent here. But Techno still missed the days where he only actually hit his targets every once in a blue moon, as Phil was just fun to be around.

“I wouldn’t have you going at all if it weren’t for the lack of men.” He explained further. At this, Niki seemed to understand, nodding thoughtfully as she looked back down at the schematics. Next to the drawn map of where Billiam’s men planned to rob the train, Phil had sprawled out the map of where the robbery was, a normal map, the nearest sheriff’s offices and Warden headquarters were.

The mere idea of Wardens disgusted Technoblade in that animalistic, visceral way. They were a private corporation, owned by a businessman, Awesamdude, aiming for a complete monopoly on “private security”. In less calculated words, a private military for the government to hire when its people don’t comply with laws against a specific group of people. Gods, you could tell how much Phil’s well-read-ness wore off on him sometimes. But anarchy was something Techno had grown to like by himself.

“Why don’t we just get one of the young ones in, like Ranboo? Or Tommy, even? That kid doesn’t exactly pull his weight anyways,” Dream suggested. Techno gave him a look. Tommy was still recovering from an infected wound, shoving him into action and crime would not only be careless, but endangering a kid who still didn’t even really recognize what the Syndicate was.

Then again, Techno didn’t really know when he robbed his first bank.

“Tommy’s pulling his weight in different ways, Dream. It’s not like I’m a freeloader because I only really do these jobs once a month or so.” Sally defended. Tommy, quite obviously eavesdropping, kindly gave Dream a middle finger and a ‘fuck you too bitch’ shouted from his place. Dream returned the gesture, sans yelling.

“Tommy, shush.” Tubbo told him, elbowing him in the side. Tommy shoved him as well, only to be scolded for the action. “I could’ve chopped off my finger, don’t do that!”

“Knock it off, you two,” Puffy said, walking in to get herself a cup of coffee. The sun began to raise, painting the sky pink and orange. Just how early Techno had woken up just dawned on him. It must’ve been starting out to be one of those good weeks, he supposed. With his sleep schedule, he was always either sleeping in until noon, or waking up before the crack of dawn.

It must be time for a haircut.

They left at the same time as the day before, the group splitting up a little ways out to avoid suspicion. Techno went with Niki and Sally, who were chatting happily about a book. He just looked around. An owl cood from a tree. Did owls even live around here? They were in a birch forest, the trees tall, white, and streaked with black along the trunks, and the occaisonal beehive hanging from branches. With spring in full blow, white and blue flowers dotted the ground. Irises sprung up in patches. No wonder Niki had so many to spare him.

Sally and Niki attempted to include him in their conversation a few times, but his mind was so foggy, it would cause his words to awkwardly stumble out. No matter how hard he tried, he managed to sound like an asshole every single time. Eventually, he just gave up and kept quiet, listening along and observing the surroundings. Right at sundown, Techno noticed the flickering glow of Dream’s lamp. Their horses soon joined the rest, and Niki left the two alone, instead standing with Dream.

Technoblade and Sally crouched in the grass, the former’s back braced up against a tree trunk. Grasshoppers soon emerged with their evening song. The sky darkened. Once dusk had died and night had fallen, the six readied for the job. A distant whistle of a chain, and Dream ran to the tracks. Techno immediately turned away, covering his ears. It was no use, a loud boom causing them to ring as he led Sally to the edge.He readied his gun.

A red figure stood on the cliff.

Chapter Text

Technoblade blinked, the smoke making his eyes water. The figure was gone. Whatever, he had no time to worry about that. He shot the latch of the train car, and helped Sally up before climbing in himself. God, his bandana made it hard to breathe. He lifted his handgun to one of the passenger’s faces, a distressed man with a dark moustache that curled at the ends. He wore a suit and red tie, turning the pockets of said suit inside out as he dumped a clip of cash, a watch, and a few rings in a sack that Sally held.

Next to him, a dark haired and olive skinned woman in a blue dress, all of her jewelry already piled into her cupped hands. Into the sack. They continued on like this. An old man with a combover. A middle aged woman with glasses and flaxen hair. A young lady with her hair in a braid and a green dress. She handed over a particularly large stack of bills, although crumpled. The rest of their faces blurred. Next car.

This one, luckily, bore no passengers, and instead, the jackpot: the lockers. When Techno was younger, Phil took him on one of these fancy, first class trains with Kristin and Wilbur to Las Nevadas to make a deal, and they had to put any important belongings inside a small, metal box with a lock. He scanned the rest of the car, with a coat hanger bolted to the wall and laden with velvets, cashmeres, and leathers, and a mahogany desk and chair. He crossed the room. Techno dug through the drawers, and hooked to the top of the first drawer was a small key.

He then went to open the lockers, and thank the gods, the first one opened. And then the second. Sally reached her arm to the back of the first, scooping all the contents into the sack, now weighed down with valuables. There were twelve in total, the most notable of the goods being a gold engagement ring with an absolutely huge diamond. The size of his finger nail, at least.

Focus.

Footsteps came from the other door, the one that led to the car Sally and Techno had yet to travel to. He pulled out his gun once more. The security guard walked in, and his head slammed against the car door as blood spattered everywhere. Sally shoved it aside and the two moved on.

The next car had no walls, just a wooden platform with a small barrier. Gunshots pierced the air, and Techno ducked, dragging Sally down with him as he looked around for the enemies. Three men from the next car. Each of their bodies were concealed by the walls. The only visible parts of them were their faces, above the cheekbones, and their guns, barrels aiming at the two of them. They shuffled over to a crate, and Sally shot one down. Techno peeked over, and killed the other two. Both of which were hit in the head.

They went through the next three cars, all lockers, and cleared them out like they did with the first. Techno walked one of the final cars to find an office. It was… very posh. The furniture reminded him of Phil’s tent. A dark brown, wooden desk stood at the back, the chair made of the same shade, along with upholstered leather dyed emerald green. Bookshelves lined the walls. A fountain pen was held in a gold brace on the desk. Certificates took up any wallspace the shelves didn’t. The carpet covering the floor was also green.

“Awesamdude.” Sally read, sat in the fancy desk chair, and snooped through documents. Techno’s gaze drifted to the books. Most had to do with business or security, but there were a few of interest. Namely the one titled ‘COLLECTION OF GREEK FOLKLORE AND MYTHS’. If it weren’t for the three or four Techno already owned back at camp, he would’ve grabbed it.

A muffled yelp caused him to jerk his head over to Sally, who clutched a stack of papers.

“Holy shit! This dumbass has land deeds here!” Sally exclaimed happily, shuffling through several sheets of paper. Techno walked over and peered past her shoulder at the writing. He took one into his own hands. The paper was thick, high quality. The bottom had a gold wax stamp with an insignia of a creeper embossed in gold. So pretentious, having a custom stamp. When you're that rich, you can afford it, Techno supposed.

“Here, I’ll hold onto them.” He offered, folding the one he held into thirds and doing the same to the other three - holy fuck, there were four land deeds - before tucking them all into his coat pocket. Techno almost expected the drawing of Tommy’s house to be there as well. It’d felt like since grabbing that drawing, eyes were trailing anywhere he went. His unease heightened. Sally poked him.

“Scared of the cops or something?” She asked with a slight tease, now digging through the bottom right drawer. It didn’t seem to yield anything. Techno shrugged. His feet brought him to a credenza, and he pocketed the ruby ring, he always liked rubies, and pocket watch that both rested on a gold tray. He glanced at the face of the watch and his heart skipped a beat.

“It’s been almost an hour. Police will surely be here any minute, Wardens close behind.” He told Sally, who nodded. The two exited out the back door, and instead of traversing through to the next car, they hopped down to the ground. She went first, and helped Techno down. Gods, he hated being babied like this.

“Everybody out of the train!” Phil yelled, Bill at his side. Niki herded them out of an exit. Dream, a few meters away from it all, held a bottle in one hand, and a lighter in the other. He flicked it on and off, fire sputtering. Once all the passengers anxiously stood by the doors, he threw the bottle. Holy shit, it was a fire bomb. The train exploded into flames, and the wealthy riders screamed in fear, scattering about. Niki shoved them around, firing her gun in the air to command respect.

A group of horses rode in from behind. Shit. Techno took off into a run with Sally’s arm in tow, and then Niki’s. Phil led the rest as well, and soon all six were on horses. As they rode off, Niki cried out in pain. Techno glanced over to see her clutching her arm. Shit. They rode faster.

“Goddamn it, why’d you light it on fire?” He yelled in Dream’s direction. No answer. Techno veered off to the right, waving for Sally and Niki to follow with his bad arm. More gunfire. He turned around, looking past the two women following him, and shot the Warden closest to their trail. The Warden’s horse jumped back at the noise, and the corpse fell to the floor.

They headed away, from both the train and Logstedshire. Techno opted for a small path, away from any towns and more attention. It led them all to a valley, where he turned around and shot at the Wardens following them. There were four, maybe six. He couldn’t look for long.

Sally yelled something. She raised her gun and shot behind him. A thud. He managed to kill two facing him. Niki shot another, getting him in the shoulder. The Warden stumbled back, but shot again before getting a final blow to the head. She then shot the last in the head. The horse ran away. Techno’s ears still rang.

And then the silence came, only interrupted by the three’s heavy breathing. Techno got off of Carl, almost stumbling onto the grassy ground. He walked over to Niki, whose head leaned back as her chest rose and fell quickly. He grabbed her arm gently, pushing her sleeve up to reveal the bleeding gash.

“Here, to stop the bleeding.” He said, pulling out some bandages from his pocket and wrapping them around.

“Thanks.” She saidleaning down so it was easier for him to help.

“I’m gonna go off by myself, in case they’re still following.” Sally called, already heading off to Logstedshire. Techno’s eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re already split up enough though.” He argued.

“Yeah, but Niki’s injured, and I’ll just come running back in case there is someone. Just… leave once I’m out of sight.”

There was no use debating further, as she was already out of earshot. He sighed. Great. Techno and Niki did as Sally asked, only beginning to head back once Sally was gone. The ride was quiet, but pleasant. He usually preferred to go off alone, but Niki was good company. She pointed out some herbs to gather occasionally, and every time, Techno would dismount, grab a bunch of them, and hand them to her. Oregano, thyme, rosemary… At least it would make the food taste like something.

They arrived to the camp a little before dawn, and Techno ushered Niki over to Kristin for stitches, and glanced around for Sally. She got there a few moments after them, tying her horse to the hitch. As for him, sleep beckoned him to his bed, before anybody else could ask him to do something. So much for waking up early, huh?

*****

Desptie how late he stayed up, Technoblade actually did awake early. Not as early as the day before, but the smell of coffee still hung in the air as he sat up in bed. Only a few members of the Syndicate were out and about, most still huddled up in their own tents with the curtains drawn. Like every other morning, he poured himself coffee and said hello to Tubbo.

“Mornin’” The kid mumbled back, still sleepy as well. His green buttoned shirt hung loose on his frame, and his brown hair frizzed from sleep.

While thinking over what he had to do, there wasn’t much. The Syndicate might be low on food, and considering Niki’s shooting arm was injured, she probably shouldn’t be the one to go out. He could always do that. Or fishing, maybe. Before Techno could contemplate further, Tommy strolled up to him with a toothy grin. His clothes, like always, were two sizes too big for him. Perhaps he could take the kid to get some that actually fit him with the money they just got.

Techno began to understand why Phil made them take such big risks sometimes. Financial stability was a cozy safety net. He sure as hell slept easier knowing they could just buy food and medicine when they needed it, so gods know how much more relaxed Philza is now.

“G’morning.” Tommy said, stealing a bite of oatmeal from someone’s bowl. Gross.

“Good morning.” Techno replied. “And that was gross.”

“I’m not hungry enough for a whole bowl!” He defended, leaning against the table by Techno’s side. The latter merely rolled his eyes. “So did yesterday go okay?”

“It went fine. Niki just scratched, but other than that, everybody’s okay.”

“Yeah, I saw Kristin giving her stitches. I wanted to help, but blood makes me dizzy.” Tommy said. He gave Fundy a cheerful wave as the boy ran by. He almost landed on his face while trying to return the gesture. The action made Techno wonder if he was that clumsy at age six. Tommy definitely was.

“That sounds like you.”

“Dick.” Tommy shot back with ease, climbing onto the table to sit. His legs swung, Wait- were those Techno’s old boots?

“Are those my shoes?” He asked, lightly backhanding the kid’s feet. Tommy didn’t answer. Of course they were. Instead, he changed the subject.

“So what’s the master plan today, big man?” Tommy deflected, and began toying with the rosary hanging around his neck. It was made of pearls and gold, and shone in the morning sunlight. Damn, maybe he should’ve taken the stuff when the group went back to Tommy’s house.

“Techno!” Before he could answer, Sally walked up to the two of them, eyes dark and hollow. Had she even slept? Her red hair was tied in the usual bun, and a large stain covered the front of her white shirt. It dragged down to her brown skirt, which had various patches sewn on in different places. “Fundy needs to get his energy out, and I need an hour myself. Just one.”

And fuck, as much as he hated babysitting, and kids, the tears threatening to spill over the brink of Sally’s green eyes brought the unfamiliar pang of guilt to his chest over the reluctance.

“Okay!” Tommy said, already taking the kid by the hand, “Techno said he wanted to go fishing today, anyways,” Liar. He was right, but the kid’s cheerful grin struck some sort of chord. But he wasn’t going to say no. Techno instead nodded with his own smile.

“Yeah, I, um, figured it would be a good break. From the game.” He explained. Sally let out a long exhale of relief, wiping away the sweat from her brow.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’d hug you, but…” She motioned at her clothes. Techno waved his hand lazily, promising to bring Fundy back by lunch as he prepared the child to go fishing. From what he could recall, there was that old bamboo rod the kid could use. It was probably in his dresser, right?

Techno returned to his tent to check, and out of the corner of his eye, the blonde followed him.

“What?” He asked. Maybe, if Techno was lucky, Tommy merely had some dumb question and would scurry off after a minute or two of pestering. Of course, he was wrong.

“I have a fishing pole, y’know. Made it myself. Well, Niki helped, but I haven’t tried it out yet.” Tommy hinted, bouncing on his heels as he avoided Techno’s unamused face. Great. He didn’t exactly have the energy to bicker, so he merely sighed, pinched his nose, and nodded.

“Sure.”

Maybe it would bring him some good fortune anyways.

Chapter Text

By noon, the three of them were settled at the shore of a nearby lake. Carl and Tallulah grazed on a shady patch of grass underneath an oak tree. Meanwhile, Techno and Tommy’s fishing hooks bobbed beneath the surface of the water, chunks of bread attached to attract the fish. The youngest wandered around in the grass near the horses, picking flowers.

“So… how do I do this?” Tommy asked, insecurely gripping the base of the fishing rod in his hands. Techno sighed, then took his own pole in one hand to use the other to help.

“Hold on tighter, for one.” He placed his free hand on top of Tommy’s own, pushing them down. They flinched ever so slightly at the touch. Techno looked away from the blue eyes staring up at him, guilty. Why’d he have to be so weird about this? Uneasiness arose into his throat like an old friend, a feeling that had only been present in moments like these when he and Wilbur were only beginning to become friends. It made sense, as he remembers being equally annoyed at Wil when they were teens.

“Okay, so, now what?” Tommy asked after a moment of silence. Techno side-stepped closer to him, and instead of guiding him on top of his own hands, he showed off the slow wagging motion for the blonde to copy.

“You wanna move it around a bit to attract some fish. Make ‘em think it’s alive, y’know?” Tommy mimicked the motion with ease, beaming from ear to ear. He looked back up to Techno, nearly jumping from excitement. So childish.

“Now you wait.” Techno said, returning his hand to his own pole and focusing on it. A slight tug pulled. A moment later, Tommy’s line was pulled taut as well. He gasped with excitement, darting his head between Techno and the line.

“What do I do? Techno!” He asked.

“Just- Pull. Try to drag it to tire it out.” Tommy did as he was told, yanking the rod backwards and fighting against the small fish caught on the hook. “Not that hard! You’ll break the line!”

He loosened his grip. Moments passed by with Technoblade giving instructions to the eager blonde who somehow always found a way to do it wrong. And of course, Tommy had managed to catch the most determined fucking fish in the lake. Fundy began to watch from his spot in the grass. Out of the corner of his eye, Techno watched as the kid curiously examined the dandelion in his hand, ate it, and then sputtered the yellow petals out of his mouth. Gross.

Finally, the fish gave up, and out came a smallmouth black bass. Its green-grey scales shone against the sun, wet, and its body flopped around in the air. Techno grabbed it from the end of the line, and pulled the hook out of its lip. Tommy’s face contorted into an expression of pure disgust.

“Awwh, that’s fucking grim!” He exclaimed. Of course he’d whine about fishing. Did he do anything to help his parents up in that cabin? Or did he just sit and complain like he does at the camp?

“I’m not doing this any more. Gross. Ew. Poor fish.” Tommy protested. Techno merely rolled his eyes, casting his own rod once again. The fish had gotten away while he was busy helping the ungrateful child, who was now busy chasing Fundy around, bellowing like a monster. The younger shrieked playfully. He made a beeline for Techno’s leg, and clutched onto it with a death grip.

Guess that’s all the fishing he’d get to do.

He picked Fundy up by an arm and a leg and tossed him over his back. The kid screamed and wrestled more, while Tommy attempted to aid him and rescue him from the new monster. Techno played along, gently kicking him away.

“I’m gonna eat you for dinner!” He yelled, shifting Fundy in his hands and then approaching the edge of the water. The kid’s green eyes widened in fear, recognizing what was about to happen. He fought harder, desparate to escape his circumstances, but to no avail. At the last second, he squeezed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks like a pufferfish.

Techno dunked his head under right as Tommy tackled him. Fundy fell completely into the water - Sally was going to be furious at the wet clothes, fuck - and Techno to the pebbles of the shore of the lake. Ow. Ow. Tommy landed on top of him, then immediately scrambled to get up and save Fundy, who was treading water. Thank the gods his mother loved the water so much, because Wilbur would’ve simply drowned after his refusal of learning how to swim.

Once the teen was off him, Technoblade reached for Fundy’s arm and pulled him out. The ginger laughed, water spraying from his mouth. Tommy laughed as well, taking off his blue denim jacket and wrapping it around the kid once he was on dry land. Attempting to use it like a towel, he rubbed Fundy’s arms.

“Your mum’s gonna kill us if you come back all wet.” Tommy said, turning to look up at Techno.

Horses whinnied ahead of them. Techno whipped his head up to find two men dismounting their own horses. They wore black coats and green vests, each with a creeper pin on their lapels. Wardens. Shit. He moved to stand between the agents and the two kids. Tommy did the same for Fundy, blocking the kid with his own body.

Why did they have to come when two out of the three of them were sopping wet?

“Technoblade?” One of them asked. He removed his hat to expose his blonde hair, and a gold chain hung from his pocket. He extended his hand for introductions. Techno would rather be shot in the head or hogtied than prounce around with formalities. He didn’t acknowledge his name being called or the agent’s hand that still reached out. Instead, he raised his eyebrows. The agent shoved his hand in his pocket.

“I’m Agent Punz, and this is my partner, Antfrost.” He introduced himself, head nodding back to his partner who stood behind him. Techno stayed silent, waiting for the catalyst to happen. Hopefully Tommy would be smart enough to take Fundy and start running when he was arrested. Or even just killed. Punz cleared his throat. “We’ve been assigned to arresting the Syndicate.”

They watched each other in silence for a beat.

“Do you know how much you’re wanted for?” The agent began. Techno shook his head. “$5000 for the stunt you pulled back in Pogtopia. And that’s only on your head alone.”

Technoblade’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. That was more money than he could make in a year. In a decade, even. Good gods, what has he gotten into? Punz continued.

“It’s such a shame, considering your past. An orphan on the streets, taken in by a smooth-talking criminal who groomed you into committing all those atrocities.” How fun, they had done their research on him. “You’ve garnered a bit of sympathy with the two of us, believe it or not.”

So that’s where this was going. Disgust filled his mouth like bile, and he raised his eyebrows.

“We’re willing to cut you a deal. Turn in Philza Minecraft, and we’ll let you go. You can stay with your kids.” Punz said eyes trailing behind Techno to Tommy and Fundy. They were not his kids.

“I haven’t seen Phil since leaving Pogtopia, so you’re asking the wrong person. Even if I did, I’d never do that to him.” Techno insisted. Neither of them seemed surprised at this, but Punz sighed anyways, feigning disappointment. He tossed his hands up in defeat.

“There’s nothing I can do for you from now on, then.”

*****

The ride back was deadly silent. Fundy didn’t seem to grasp what had happened, but Tommy’s lack of jokes or incessant questioning taught Techno that the blonde understood enough. He almost missed the annoying rambling. That was a lie. The silence would’ve been nice if it weren’t for the circumstances.

He had to tell Phil.

For all Techno knew, the camp was being raided as they rode along the path. Gods, the thought made his stomach churn. He pulled on the reins ever so slightly, and Carl sped up. Tallulah followed. How long did they have if the Wardens weren’t already there?

“What do we do?” Tommy asked. Techno flinched from the suddenness.

“Tell Phil. He’ll- He’ll know what to do. This isn’t really the first time this has happened.”

“So we’re gonna be okay?” Fear leaked into his voice, as he stared into Tallulah’s brown mane.

“Of course. Wardens are assholes, they were just trying to go the easy route to get Phil behind bars. It won’t work.” Techno explained. He almost convinced himself that it was true. “I’ve read all about the intimidation tactics they like to use, and Punz probably was just trying to get one of us to tell them something.”

“Do they really think we’re that stupid?” Tommy asked, looking up at Techno. Fundy, sat in front of him, toyed with the rings on Techno’s hand.

“Definitely. To be completely fair, it’s not like Billiam’s men give us the best reputation.” It was true; The pig relied on numbers rather than skill, which led to many of his goons being the actually stupidest people on earth. They pick fights at saloons, steal right in front of police, all the while sporting a uniform to identify them as a gang. Philza always prioritized discretion.

Soon, they arrived to the camp, after triple checking that first, they weren’t being followed, and second, the camp wasn’t being attacked and raided as they merrily trotted in. Techno let out the biggest sigh of relief when Niki’s voice called out into the forest.

“Who’s there?” She asked, stern and cautious.

“It’s just us, Niki!” Tommy called, apparently back to his usual, happy-go-lucky self. Techno almost envied him for it.

The moment his feet hit the ground and Carl was securely hitched, he made a beeline for Phil’s tent, where he was reading. He looked up at Techno, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“We need to talk.”

“What, did Fundy die?” He asked, a smile beginning to form.

“No, a couple of Wardens came up to us, threatening to arrest you. They asked me to hand you in.” He explained, setting a hand down on the table. Phil stood.

“Did you do it?”

“Fucking- No. They know where we are.” He said. At this, Phil’s face finally began to settle into worry. The floorboards behind Techno creaked, and he turned to see Sally looking up at him.

“Is everything alright?” She asked, head tilted.

“Yeah, we just ran into a… complication.” Phil said, waving it away. He smiled, and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Did you get a good break? I can look after Fundy next time if you’d like.” He offered.

Techno sat down in Philza’s place, and watched the two chat. He slowly led her out of the tent, and after a few moments, returned. Any semblance of relaxation was gone, replaced by the pensive stare he always adorned when thinking of a plan.

“Phil.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll lay low for a while, and if they do anything else, we leave. I’ll start making plans with Niki and Aimsey to see where we can go next.” Techno’s shoulders drooped ever so slightly. Of course Philza would have it handled. For Christ’s sake, they had been in so many bad situations, why was Techno even worried?

Phil returned to reading, now on his bed. Apparently that was it, then.

“Techno?” Wilbur asked, head poking into the tent. He followed the musician out. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s fine. Just a couple of problems. What’d you need?” There was no need in getting anybody worried. If there was an actual problem, Phil would settle it. There’s not much Wilbur would do, anyways, so he doesn’t need to know.

“I just- I broke my guitar,” Wilbur admitted, looking down at his feet like a kid in trouble. Techno sighed, pinching his nose. He’d taught Wil how to fix it multiple times, but without fail, he’d always manage to hand it off to his brother to fix. Not that he minded.

“Give it to me.” The two settled in Techno’s tent, with Wilbur sat on the floor while Techno examined the snapped guitar strings on his bed.

The guitar was a Christmas gift from Sally the year they got married. She had spared no expense for it, spending the painstaking hours to paint yellow flowers on the body. Chrysantheums, Wil’s favorite. She’d also painted them along the back of the neck as well. One of the strings curled up, broken in half. They had no replacements for it, so the best he could do was remove the broken string.

“We’re gonna have to find a new string for it.” Techno explained. Wilbur’s face fell.

“What’s the point in anything then?” He retorted theatrically, tossing his head back. His hat fell into his lap. Blood stained the arm of his yellow button down shirt. Technoblade’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of it.

“Wha- Why is your shirt all bloody?” Wilbur glanced down at it, and covered the tear.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just got nicked during a job.”

“Since when do you go out on jobs?”

“Recently. Phil appreciates the additional money.”

“Who do you go with? People who can cover you, right?” With how much the two had been fighting, Sally was out of the question, but Techno would even rather his brother be risking his life alongside Dream. The trigger-happy outlaw could at least keep him from getting killed. Wilbur didn’t answer. “Wilbur. You’re not doing them alone, are you?”

“Why can’t I?” He shot back, meeting Techno’s gaze.

“Because the last time you actually shot a gun was last December.” It was crazy to think that they fled from Pogtopia so many months ago. "And you can't even aim that well."

"I'm not that bad, Tech. You could at least have a little faith in me." Wil answered quietly. Techno's chest tightened. He always had high standards for Wilbur, but that's only because he knew his brother could achieve them. Right?

"I'm sorry. I just-" Technoblade looked back at the guitar, missing a string, "I don't want you coming back in a coffin. Or worse."

"I promise I'll be careful." He reassured him. Then, Wil stood, and ruffled Techno's hair. The latter pushed his hands off in protest, but not before his hair had become ruffled and messy. He'd have to redo the braid.

After seeing Wilbur's smile, it was so, so worth it.

Chapter Text

"So am I all good now?" Tommy asked. He sat on the table in Kristin's tent. She and Puffy stood across from him, with Techno in between, cross legged on a bed.

"No. I'm gonna do check-ups every few days to make sure everything's alright, considering you're at risk for pneumonia and another infection." Kristin explained, wetting a new bandage with some type of antiseptic.

"It's a miracle you're still alive, kid." Puffy explained, helping him lift his shirt as Kristin gingerly removed the old ones.

This had become Technoblade's daily ritual: wake up and watch Tommy get treated, get some coffee, and then hunt and work. Although, in the week since the scare with the Wardens, nobody was allowed to do anything even remotely close to Logstedshire. He spent the new free time helping Wilbur shoot. His aim had improved significantly since Pogtopia, which eased Techno's anxieties ever so slightly.

As for accompanying Tommy every morning, he supposed he owed it to him. As annoying as he was, the memory of the circumstances the two met under still haunted Techno almost every night since then. Tubbo, the absolute legend, had taken notice of the darkened bags, and had begun to save extra coffee so Techno could have two servings.

"Oh, god." The kid muttered to himself as he watched Kristin mix up his next treatment. It was a white powder she mixed up into a glass of water for him. Techno gagged at the sight. Every time anybody got shot and infected, she'd give it to them daily.

"I know you hate it, but trust me, honey, malaria's way worse."

"Quineen. What kind of name even is that?" He complained, before downing the glass with a shudder.

"Quinine." Kristin corrected.

Wilbur walked past, and greeted the four of them with an eager wave. Tommy was the only one to reciprocate the action, nearly taking out Technoblade's eye in the process.

The thought of ditching him here quickly became more appealing.

He passed Sally, who looked straight through him, as if her husband was a ghost. She was chatting with Phil. Upon glancing over, his eyes lit up. Sally stood waiting as Philza approached the tent. After leaving a kiss on Kristin's cheek, he faced Tommy, still grimacing from the medicine.

“Hey, Tommy. I wanted to talk to you.” Tommy straightened at the sight of the leader of the Syndicate. New members always addressed him with a sense of formality, and it never failed to confuse Techno. It was just Phil, after all. Puffy ruffled Tommy’s hair before leaving, but both Techno and Kristin stayed. “Considering you’re getting better every day now, we should discuss your options.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy replied, crossing his ankles.

“You’re not forced to stay here, with the Syndicate, if you don’t want to. I mean, you’re still what, fourteen?”

“Sixteen.” He interrupted with a pout. Tommy was really that old? Techno thought he was twelve.

“Sixteen.” Philza repeated, “Do you have any family looking for you?”

Techno knew the answer to that. Besides his lack of relatives, he’d probably stay. Maybe to just bother him. Those motivations weren’t exactly shocking.

Tommy shook his head. The rosary that hung from his neck swung with the action. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry; Pearls strung together with silver. It stuck out like a sore thumb against his clothes, which were fit for a beggar. Both his jeans and white button down were too big for him and dirty at the cuffs. The shirt was one of Technoblade’s old ones, and the pants were Tubbo’s. The red neckerchief under the rosary was his own, however.

“I want to stay here.”

Just as predicted.. Realistically, he had no other options either way. Phil had a habit of finding the most destitute people and giving them a home within the Syndicate. A spark of pride lit up in Technoblade’s chest at the thought that he followed in his father’s footsteps. Even if it was with such an annoying kid.

*****

“Don’t forget about this afternoon, Tech!” Dream called from his horse. He was about to leave. Technoblade, writing at his desk, didn’t bother with much more of a response than a hollered ‘yeah’ back. Asshole. Dream had reminded him no less than four times throughout the day.

An itch rose up into his throat. Techno coughed. And then again. And again. Gods, did he choke on his spit or something?

May 16th

I’m supposed to meet up with a few others at the Logstedshire saloon in a couple hours. It’s mainly to strategize on a job. Normally, we’d do that at a camp, but Dream insisted that a change of surroundings would keep our minds fresh. Whether that was true or not, well… At least there’s food there. I especially like those cheesy grits. They’re good with beer. Skeppy thinks it’s disgusting, but he also downs whiskey like it’s water.

I’m still on the fence about the robbery. Sure, the scare with Agent Prick Punz happened at the end of April, but still. It’s all the way in El Rapids, northeast of here. On the bright side, Wilbur wasn’t going. He’s been in a mood lately. I might be mistaken, but the last time I was up in that mountain town, there seemed to be a music section in the general store. Replacing that broken guitar string would help his mood.

I miss the sound of his playing every morning.

“Y’know, I thought you would have better handwriting.” Tommy’s voice said, right behind me. The sound made Techno jump and immediately slam the book closed. For God’s sake, he had to get that kid a bell or something.

“You could at least announce yourself when you come in, if you’re not gonna bother with actually asking. And don’t read my shit.”

“Sorry.” Tommy apologized with a laugh.”I brought you food, big man.” He held up the bowl of stew.

“I’m gonna eat in a couple hours. I’m not hungry.”

Not entirely a lie, but there were better things Techno could do than waste his time eating. Plenty of chores awaited him. With Jack gone, he’d picked up most of the workload. The horses liked him - He hoped, at least - so it wasn’t that bad. Tommy didn’t take this as an answer, instead leaving the bowl on the desk and walking off with a wave.

Maybe he was a little hungry.

He hoped Tommy hadn’t spit in it as a joke or anything.

Before long, Techno found himself at the doors of the saloon. The interior was dimly lit, with round tables placed sporadically on the first floor. A staircase in the middle of the room led up to the second floor. Up there were rooms to rent. He’d never seen someone actually use one, however, as Logstedshire apparently built a hotel a couple weeks before the Syndicate had arrived. Philza and everybody else had settled in the far right corner.

He waved the pink-haired cowboy over. Technoblade’s eyes lit up and the worn brown jacket and ginger hair next to his own empty spot, and the dark head of hair and blue vest on the other side. Maybe with Sally and Skeppy here, Dream wouldn’t be so insufferable.

“You’re late.” Speak of the devil. Techno glanced at his watch. Two minutes past the meeting time.

“I don’t think you’ll die if you wait a hundred seconds.” He retorted. Dream didn’t answer, but smiled as he drank his beer. Ranboo glanced at him nervously.

“So what are we even doing up in El Rapids?” Skeppy asked. His elbow pushed up against Techno’s own. There were too many people at this damned table.

“There’s a new mayor up there. My sources say he has ties to Quackity down in Las Nevadas, and he has a certain love for jewelry. And gambling.” Phil explained.

“Are we gonna mug the man, then?” Ranboo asked, head tilting.

“No, no. His house. An old lover of his has told me that he keeps all his valuables in a safe in the basement.” He elaborated.

“So that’s why I’m here.” They realized. Sally smiled.

“You’re gonna have Techno covering you, so there’s no need to worry. Especially now that his arm’s good as new.” Phil reassured him.

Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. Ranboo was always pleasant company, despite his lack of skill with a gun.

“We’ve been scouting the entire place out, so I want you all to know his house like the back of your hand. We can’t risk any mistakes right now.” He explained, handing out copies of the layout. They were drawn in black ink, and the neat, cursive handwriting proved that Phil had done all five copies himself.

“Dream and Sally are going to keep watch. Skeppy and I will go through the house.” Phil finished.

“Is this how we’re gonna use the rest of Billiam’s dynamite?” Dream asked. Considering he was the de facto demolitions expert, the question made sense. Besides, the three entire crates of explosives that rested only a few feet from Techno’s bed made it a bit difficult to sleep anyways.

“We don’t need it. I don’t wanna draw any attention to us, so guns are only a last restort. We’re gonna be in and out, and nobody will even notice.” Phil said. Great. More quality time with bombs.

“So-” Before Sally could finish, a gunshot sounded from outside. The two other people in the saloon screamed, and one ran out. The other ended up huddled in a corner, face buried. The entire table startled, and she immediately stood and rushed to the window. When she turned to face the rest of them again, her face had drained of color.

“Wardens.” She said as she joined them in the back of the room. Techno covered Phil as much as he could, back to the windows. All of them but Sally had bandanas to cover their faces. Ranboo met his eyes, terrified and silent. He slowly pulled out his first revolver, and pushed it into their hand. And then, the other.

Maybe they were here for another reason. It’s not like they’d know Philza was at the saloon. Right?

“Philza Minecraft.” A voice called from outside.

Of course. They had probably been tailing them for weeks.

Phil pushed past Techno’s shoulder, and made his way across the room. He slowly inched along the walls until his back was against the wooden wall next to the window. He leaned closer to hear. Techno pulled out his final gun, the shotgun strapped to his back. For once, Dream’s habit of being armed to the teeth actually served them well, as the blonde passed Sally his one of his own guns.

“Philza, we just want to talk. Come out unarmed, and we can let all your lackeys go free.” The same voice yelled. Techno glanced at the window. Punz.

Cover me. Phil mouthed to him before tentatively exiting the saloon, arms held up in surrender. Technoblade did as he was told, taking his father’s old spot. Sally matched him on the opposite side of the saloon, ducked under the bar. Nobody had noticed the bartender sneak out the back exit a few moments beforehand, but his absence was a blessing.

“I believe there must be a misunderstanding, here, gentlemen.” Phil said outside. His voice carried throughout the town, and Techno peered through the glass once more to examine the circumstances. A black carriage stood in the middle of the main street, four Wardens standing guard at the front and back each. Two additional ones stood on each side of the door.

It opened up and a man stepped out. His dark green hair was slicked back, and was the only person in all of Logstedshire better dressed than Philza himself. His black tailcoat and slacks were free of dust and wrinkles, and freshly pressed. Underneath the jacket was a gold vest and a puffy red neckerchief. A gold pin kept it in place, matching the creeper shaped pin on his lapel.

Awesamdude. Sally whispered over to Techno. Shit. The train robbery really was going to bite them in the ass, wasn’t it? Doesn’t matter. Phil needs to get out of this alive. He turned back to look at the three that remained: Dream, Skeppy, and Ranboo.

The back exit was across the room to them, and after going back and forth with Skeppy in silence, the two made an agreement. He began to guide the other two out. Techno let out the tiniest sigh of relief at the noise of the door closing. At the very least, the chances of Ranboo being hurt were lessening every second they spent getting away from Logstedshire. Dream and Skeppy could handle themselves.

“Do you know who I am, Philza?” Awesamdude asked, standing a few feet away from the front steps of the saloon. Phil’s hands remained in the air.

“You seem to know who I am.” He deflected. Awesamdude smiled in return, tight and poised.

“Awesamdude. I’m the head and founder of the Wardens. You and your…” He paused, eyeing Phil up and down like he’d somehow manage to blow the entire place up under the watch of a dozen gunmen, “followers stole thousands of dollars worth of goods from a train earlier this year. Do you remember that?”

At this, Phil went silent. It was better to not say anything than get himself shot with a witty remark. But did the train robbery really get them thousands? Techno had only gotten a little under a hundred in return. Must be all the medicine and food. If- when they made it out of this, he’d have to ask Wilbur and Phil about it.

“This is all just a misunderstanding, mate. I’m just a businessman. I have no followers, no robbery partners. I’m just getting food on the table, y’know?” He attempted to negotiate, but Awesamdude was having none of it.

“My men saw you and the Blood God, among others, fleeing that night. Turn yourself in, and we won’t kill your own men.” He said. The two of them looked to the left, but from Techno’s view, he could only see some jostling. Sally’s eyes, however, widened.

They got Ran and Skeppy. She told him. Techno could almost feel his heart stop. Ranboo was seventeen. Skeppy was his best friend. Shit. Where was Dream?

And as if the man answered his question, somebody was shot. A body fell to the floor; A Warden. This was their cue, Techno supposed. He immediately ran out of the saloon, covering Phil and aiming for the first person he saw. With the squeeze of a trigger, another Warden fell dead. Sally stood behind him and Phil, shooting at the crowd of police and agents.

Dream stood a few feet away from Skeppy and Ranboo, the other two Wardens that held them hostage already on the ground. He raised his gun towards Techno, and shot. He didn’t bother turning around, but the thud confirmed Dream’s action. It was going to get hard to dislike the man if he kept saving Techno’s life.

By now, Awesamdude was gone. Punz and Antfrost trailed them, and Techno didn’t bother shooting them down. There were enough problems here. A bullet knocked his hat off and to the wooden floor of the saloon. It came from a Warden ducked behind an abandoned cart.

Techno shot him in the head. Then, his friend next to him, in the chest.

He pulled Phil down right as another one’s head popped up over the balcony banister of the hotel. The bullet tore through the wooden door of the saloon instead. Skeppy shot him down. The man’s gun clattered to the ground. Techno returned the favor by killing somebody running right up between Skeppy and Ranboo.

He turned his attention to the next wave of Warden’s coming in to the right. Fuck. Of course Awesamdude would have men waiting, just in case. Techno shot the horse of one of the men up front. A handful of Wardens were in a pile on the ground seconds later. Sally shot another one, who was aimed at her.

There were too many for them to fend off, and definitely more to come. Phil needed to get out of here. Sally as well. He grabbed their free arms, and yanked them off the porch of the saloon. Dream and Skeppy understood, running in between them and the new group of Wardens to cover them.

The horses were hitched to the side. Salmon, Sally’s horse, was on the verge of a panic. No matter. Techno helped Phil climb onto Dave. A Warden ran up behind him, and he turned around and shot him point blank. The two rode off. He let out a breath. And then another. And he returned to the chaos for Ranboo.

Dream stood next to them, aiming at a Warden on the general store porch. He glanced at Dream’s latest victim, and met eyes with the agent. His face lit up, and Techno raised his gun to shoot him before some low-level Warden would be able to brag about killing the Blood God. The bullet landed in his chest, and a second quickly followed from Dream’s gun in the man’s neck.

Techno grabbed Ranboo’s arm and dragged them away. Dream ran up to Skeppy to do the same. The first shot at the closest Warden, but only managed to knock the revolver out of his hand. Instead, he focused on getting Ranboo to their horse. It waited at the hitch of the hotel, across from the saloon. The very end of a hat ducked out of view a second too late, and Techno ran ahead to catch the final agent by surprise. He didn’t even have his gun raised when he died.

Back to Ranboo, who now sat utop Ender’s saddle. Skeppy climbed on the back; His own horse was all the way by the general store. Dream stood a few feet away, covering the three of them. Techno let out another gunshot, killing an agent that would’ve caught the blonde by surpsie. Skeppy and Ranboo rode off.

The last thing Techno saw before he got away was a blonde man in a red sweater looking out of the hotel window. Then, Dream fell to the ground. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Dream cursed in pain, grabbing at his leg. Techno immediately killed the man who had done it, who had taken cover behind a fence. Techno grabbed Dream’s arm, and slung it over his own shoulders. The only way they were getting out of here alive was on Carl.

Spirit and Duck would just have to be collateral damage. The two hobbled over to the final horse at the saloon’s hitch. Thank the motherfucking gods, there were a few seconds until the next wave of Wardens came. They rode off before the police arrived.

Chapter Text

By the time Technoblade and Dream had arrived back at the Syndicate’s camp, the entire place was in chaos. Puffy ensured it was organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Techno lifted Dream off of Carl, and into Kristin’s tent. His heart raced at the sight of Ranboo there, but they had only sustained a nick on the arm, already covered in a bandage. Both Kristin and Wilbur immediately began tending to Dream, the latter setting him down into a bed while the former got a pair of tweezers and a bottle of whiskey ready.

As for Techno, he needed to know if Skeppy and Sally were okay. The idea of Fundy having to live without a mother… She got away first. She was with Phil. She’s just as good at shooting as Techno himself was, there’s no way she’d die. And of course, she was hurriedly rushing around, packing things away with Tubbo. The second she saw him, her face smoothed as she crushed him in a hug.

“Techno! Are you and Dream okay?” Her hair was getting in his mouth. He really hated the whole hugging thing, but with her, he was used to it. There was no fighting her on it anyways. Techno nodded.

“Dream got shot in the leg, but he’s alive. Is Skeppy okay?” He asked, pushing her away and holding her at an arm’s distance. Now, it was her turn to nod. The tight ball of anxiety and worry in his chest finally began to unravel when he saw Skeppy himself, clothes stained with blood, but seemingly fine. He stood a few feet away from Phil’s tent, a trunk of clothing in his hands.

“Phil’s gotta talk to you, Tech!” He called, and then headed to the entrance of the camp, where three wagons stood, slowly being filled with the Syndicate’s belongings. Techno did as told, and entered Philza’s tent, where the man stood, organizing his and his wife’s belongings into crates and trunks.

“Techno. Niki and Tommy are going out to find a new place to set up camp, and I want you going with them.” He explained.

“Are you sure someone else wouldn’t be a better fit? Wardens are probably all over the place looking for me and everybody else right now.” He didn’t want to get Niki or Tommy hurt because a Warden had found them. Phil shook his head.

“You’re the only gunman that isn’t either injured or busy. Except for Sally.” Phil countered. With that perspective, Techno supposed he was the only fit. It was better than Sally at least. Less damage if Technoblade died.

“Alright. When?”

“As soon as possible, please. We need to be out of here today.”

Niki and Tommy were together already, waiting for the pink haired man. Speaking of, his hair strayed out in wisps from his face, still wild from all the commotion of this afternoon. Not to mention his missing hat. Techno pushed that to the back of his mind. He’d owned that hat for almost a decade, seeing it go was less than optimal. His jacket, black and leather, had all sorts of new scuffs along the arms, from bullets grazing by. The same was to be said with the color of his red shirt.

“What happened?” Tommy asked as soon as he saw Techno. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk. Stress. Instead, he merely shook his head, and waved the blonde over to follow. Niki climbed onto Fungi’s back, while Tommy joined Techno on his. Gods, they had to get the kid his own horse. Along with replacing both Dream’s and Skeppy’s own.

This whole ‘constantly fleeing from the law’ was proving to get expensive.

They rode off, headed south. Anything west-wards was off limits because of Pogtopia’s failed ship robbery, but Logstedshire was one of the most northern towns in the entirety of Essempee.

So they had some space until being pushed further east. Which is exactly where they didn’t want to go. East means civilization and society. And the Syndicate, an outlaw gang consisting of gunslingers, has no place there.

The further they went, the warmer it became. Techno really hadn’t realized the encroaching of summer before then, but Logstedshire was a mountain town. It had only stopped snowing a week into March. But he wasn’t complaining.

He hated the cold with a vehement passion. Maybe this was in their best interest. And maybe he’d actually believe that if they weren’t being hounded by everyone under the sun.

“What’s that noise?” Niki asked, bringing Fungi to a halt. Carl stopped alongside him, and Techno hopped to the ground to investigate it. The three of them were in a forest of birch trees. The place was decorated with the occasional beehive or patch of red poppies in the grass.

Behind a cluster of closely knit trees, laid a boar, covered in blood. It shrieked out in pain as it’s small legs scrambled around. Its efforts to move were futile.

“Just a pig.” With the confirmation of his safety, Tommy was soon at his side, inspecting the dying animal. His face scrunched up with sympathy, and Niki’s did the same. The boar finally died, the legs going slack. The youngest of the three knelt. He gingerly placed a hand on its bloody chest.

“It’s dead.” Tommy said, voice beginning to waver. Was he really about to cry over some animal? “We should bury it.”

“Tommy, we have to find a place to set up camp. We don’t exactly have much time, and shouldn’t be spending it on this.” Niki explained. She matched his level on the ground, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, insistent. Of course he wouldn’t care about that.

“We’re not negotiating on this. Come on.” Techno said. Why’d he have to be such a pain?

“Well we owe it that much, at least!” He countered, turning to meet Techno’s eyes. He wasn’t going to bend on this.

“Fine. Niki, you can go up ahead, and come back if you find anything. I’ll help Tommy bury this stupid fucking thing.” He relented. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She nodded, and with that, was gone.

They didn’t even have a shovel or anything. How were they going to do this?

Tommy began to dig his fingers into a soft patch of dirt not too far from the corpse. So that’s how. Gross. Not that Technoblade was much cleaner, considering his clothes were still covered in gunpowder, Logstedshire’s mud, and splatters of blood that had started to show up as rusty brown spots on his shirt. His black pants were spared the stains.

Techno removed his jacket, rolled down his sleeves, and helped.

To Tommy’s credit, it only took a bit over an hour to carve out a hole big enough, then place the carcass inside. Flies had already begun to circle it, and the southern heat didn’t exactly help the smell. Techno gagged as they dropped it in. A few moments later, it was covered by the dirt.

“Techno?” Niki’s horse began to approach. Right on time.

“You just missed how much that boar fucking reeked. Why did we do this, again?” He turned to Tommy for the question, and the kid merely wiped a tear from his eye. He smeared dirt all over his face in the process. At least now he matched the rest of him. Techno grabbed his jacket.

“I found a place that I think might be nice. It’s next to a lake, so we wouldn’t have to go out to get food.” Niki told them. She reached out a hand for the blonde to climb onto Fungi’s back, but he declined. Now Techno had to deal with sweaty arms around him as they rode.

Carl didn’t like Tommy either. The entire time there, the kid would bounce his ankles against the brown horse’s hind legs, only earning annoyed whinnies in response. Techno turned to glare at him.

“You’re acting like you’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“Before this year, I haven’t.” He answered plainly, as if it was the stupidest remark in the world to make.

“Didn’t you live all the way up in the mountains? How did you get around?” Niki asked.

“I didn’t? You guys saw how deserted the place was, where would I go?” His annoyance melted into confusion at the idea.

What kind of hermit was this kid? He didn’t go out to fish, or hunt, or even to a store to buy food? His parents really did spoil him too much. The image of how Techno found Tommy flashed in his mind. On the ground, covered in bruises, while his father lay dead a few feet away, knuckles bloody. Leaving him up in the house all his life probably wasn’t in a place of care or extreme generosity - though Techno could never really understand the motives behind spoiling a kid to that point.

“How’d you get food?” Niki questioned, head tilted and an eyebrow raised.

“My dad was the only one allowed to leave. It’s a sin to shoot a gun, and there were tons of wolves n’ shit.” Tommy explained, looking around at the trees. Slowly, the birch trees had faded, being replaced by the dark wood and light pink leaves of cherry blossom trees. Kinoko must’ve been nearby.

Niki shot Techno a worried glance, but neither of them spoke.

“Well, until he got sick. Other priests brought us food after that.” Tommy was blissfully unaware of the other two members of the Syndicate, and what they were thinking.

“He was sick?” Techno thought back to the bloody handkerchief poking out of the dead man’s pocket. He assumed it was from whatever Tommy had done to him, but that never did make sense.

“Yeah. God wanted him to go to heaven early, I guess.” He retorted, almost to himself. Niki snickered. Fungi soon slowed to a stop, in front of a small clearing in the forest. About twenty feet ahead of that, was a massive lake. Techno peered closer, but the other side was too far to see. Pink petals drifted on the surface. “Well, when you get there, you can ask.” He said as he helped the kid down. Tommy didn’t answer, but his brows furrowed.

The place seemed to be a perfect fit, but they still spent the time to inspect it more closely. There would definitely be enough room for everyone. The presence of the boar from earlier was a slight worry, especially with Tubbo, Fundy, and Tommy. None of them could really shoot one down if necessary. But there were always the lookout posts. It’s not like the Syndicate had many options otherwise.

“What about your mom?” Niki asked, looking back at Tommy. He shrugged. Techno’s gaze drifted to the ground. The area had a soft layer of grass, which Puffy and Tubbo would definitely appreciate. All the mud in Logstedshire and at camp would always be caked into everybody’s pants, skirts, and shoes, no matter how hard they tried to keep the place clean.

“She caught the same thing. Passed a few weeks before-” Tommy caught himself. “Before Techno found me. How did you find me after all, big T?”

“This’ll do.” Techno said. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to be teased by some kid about seeing imaginary people predict the future. The sun shone against the water when they left, the skies matching the pink trees. Sunsets were Technoblade’s favorite time of day.

Back in Logstedshire, Technoblade was placed in charge of driving one of the wagons, as Ranboo was unable, with their arm and all. Wilbur sat next to him, and Tommy squeezed in between the two of them. Could he not catch a break from this kid?

They left at midnight, Niki and Aimsey’s lanterns illuminating the path for everyone. Tommy fell asleep within a matter of minutes. Maybe all the digging tired him out. His head slumped back, and then onto Techno’s shoulder. Wilbur gasped with a smile. Gods.

He formed an expression of mock adoration of the two. Techno’s face grew beet red with the teasing. He had half a mind to push Tommy onto Wilbur. But he looked peaceful. It wasn’t worth waking him up anyways.

“Not a single word about this to anybody, or I’ll shoot you.” He threatened with a whisper. Wilbur nodded, completely unbothered.

“Phil might think you’re a softie. Mama Bear Technoblade.” Wil continued with the joke, but matched Techno’s hushed tone.

“Shut up.” Wilbur did not shut up.

“You follow him around camp like his big mama bear.” He adorned the same voice he used to talk to dogs. At that moment, Techno contemplated strangling him.

“I do not!” He argued, almost mouthing it from how quietly he was speaking.

“Yes the fuck you do!” Wil shot back, giggling quietly. He shoved his hand against his mouth to muffle the noise, but Techno could seee his body shake with laughter from the corner of his eye.

Wilbur fell asleep within an hour. When Technoblade discovered this, he let out a long awaited exhale of relief. Finally, Maybe if he was lucky, Wil would forget this entire situation come tomorrow morning. However, without the relentless teasing, Techno’s mind quickly began to wander.

He looked at Tommy, still asleep. His entire right side of his body had turned almost statue-like in an attempt to keep still for him. He thought back on their conversation from that evening. And then to the night they first met. Gods, back then he was like a twig.

The ease of carrying his frail body terrified him. Now, his cheeks had that youthful puff to them. His arms had a bit of fat. His body steadily weighed against Techno’s shoulder.What did his father do to him?

He looked up to the sky. Huh. Ursa major shone above them, ursa minor not too far behind.

Chapter Text

Technoblade had only been in Kinoko less than a handful of times, but its beauty never failed to awe him. Despite their small population, the town was a “passion project” of some wealthy socialite couple a few decades ago. Don’t get him mistaken, rich people fucking suck, but at least the Halo family had some taste.

Imported cherry blossom trees lined the main street and a grand fountain stood in the middle. God, even the damned roads were art. A mosaic of dragons and mushrooms in shades of emeralds, blues, and reds. Tommy’s mouth dropped at the sight.

“Don’t say your names to anyone, make something up.” Phil commanded as the four of them rode into the town. Techno had heard the same speech a millions times before. Wilbur looked up at the sky, sighing.

“Hello?” An unknown figure approached. His dark hair was tied up behind him, with a white ribbon that matched his perfectly starched button down shirt. The star-shaped sheriff’s badge shone, freshly polished. His black pants were pressed. “Who are you all?”

“I’m Tommy.” The blonde introduced himself. Gods, he was so fucking stupid. Techno couldn’t help but let out a frustrated exhale. Wilbur patted the kid’s leg as he brought Tallulah to a stop. Carl and Dave quickly followed.

“He-” Techno was about to scold him. He made eye contact with the cop. “Herakles? Herakles.” He dragged out the first time he said it. Stupid name. He regretted reading that play this morning over coffee. Wilbur and Phil both gave him a confused glance in unison.

“Okay. Weird name.” The sheriff said, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his face. “I’m Sapnap Halo.”

“Right. We’re new in town!” Phil said. He dismounted, and the three others followed.

“Well, I just wanted to let you guys know that weapons are forbidden over here. You can carry them on you, but no holding or using any firearms, blades, et cetera et cetera.”

Well, this was gonna suck.

“Duly noted. It’s nice to meet you.” Phil responded, extending his hand to shake. Sapnap did so, almost aggressively. Techno copied his father, and oh Jesus the cop was going to dislocate his arm.

Before any of them could continue, a bullet tore through the wooden wall of the general store. Seems not everybody followed the whole ‘no weapons’ thing. Sapnap ducked his head and nearly dove to the ground at the noise. Courageous.

“What was that?” Wilbur asked. Both he and Techno began to instinctively cover Tommy from the direction of the noise. He was the only one not carrying any weapons. Fortunately, Wilbur’s entire torso provided enough cover from Sapnap’s line of sight for Techno to pass him a gun. Tommy looked at him, eyes wide and confused.

He can’t even shoot the damn thing.

Fuck.

“There’s been some… um- robbers? Going around the city?” Sapnap said, voice shaking as he patted himself up and down for a weapon. It’s a miracle that Kinoko had lasted this long with a sheriff like this. For the Syndicate, maybe this would work in their favor.

“And you haven’t stopped them?” Tommy asked, confused and almost angry at the incompetence.

“I- No.” He answered. Phil walked up to the area cautiously, revolver in hand, and opened the door. Techno followed with a shotgun, Sapnap behind him. Wilbur stayed with Tommy.

“Empty.” Phil said. The back door slammed close a millisecond later. Techno ran through it, and Phil went around through the front. Two men escaped on horseback. Sapnap nearly crashed into Techno as he followed the pink haired gunslinger through the exit.

“No shooting!”

Fine. He replaced his shotgun with a lasso, and whistled for Carl. Within the minute, he was chasing the robbers down. Why on earth was he helping the police? He glanced behind him. Phil didn’t seem to be disappointed. He gently kicked Carl’s hind legs, and the horse sped up, breaking into a sprint.

The decades spent working in the Syndicate paid off. Carl was a war horse before Technoblade bought him. The robbers couldn’t keep up. They barely made it out of the town by the time a lasso had made its way around one of their necks. And then the other.

The two laid on the ground, horses already having abandoned them as they choked. Sure, dragging them five feet down by the neck wasn’t the most humane way to capture them, but if Technoblade had his way, they would’ve been corpses instead.

They were both hogited by the time Sapnap and Phil caught up on foot. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t too far behind. The sheriff yanked the criminals up by their wrists, and threw them over Carl’s back.

“Thank you. I’m still new to the job, so this is a great help.” He said, bumping Techno’s arm with a fist. How on earth did he become sheriff if he’s new to being a police officer in general? No wonder the Syndicate has been running for 31 years.

“No problem.”

“Look, as a thank you, how about I promote all four of you to deputies?” He offered, turning back to face the other three. Techno met Wilbur’s side. They all seemed just as confused as he was.

“That’s really not necessary.”

“Oh don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to do any work or anything. It’s more of an honorary title than anything else.”

”I’ll do it!” Tommy volunteered.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I bet Te- Herakles would love to as well, wouldn’t you?” Phil said, patting Techno on the back. Why did his father have to volunteer him? Couldn’t it be Wilbur?

“Brilliant!” Sapnap said as they entered the sheriff’s office. He shoved the failed robbers into a shared jail cell, and then walked over to his desk. He pulled out two badges that matched his own: shiny, star-shaped, and golden. At the very least, it would match the rest of Techno’s jewelry. He took one and helped Tommy pin it onto his blue shirt. With the heat of Kinoko and the quickly approaching summer, the hand-me-downs that everyone had previously given the kid were pretty much useless. The blue shirt was Tubbo’s, Techno could tell from the stain of coffee on the wrist.

Tehcnoblade then took the remaining badge, and placed it on the left side of his own, red shirt. Gods, Niki and Sally were gonna have so much fun teasing him later.

*****

After a quick trip to the general store and a look around the town - the lack of a music store caused Wilbur to sulk for the rest of the trip - the four of them returned to the camp.

“Since you two have that fancy new title now, I want you guys to see what’s going on in Kinoko. Any jobs or tips would be great, but make sure they’re reliable.” Phil explained, wagging his finger between the two people that rode Carl. Tommy lit up.

“So I actually get to do stuff now? I don’t just have to help Tubbo and be the lookout?”

”Hey, lookouts are an important job. But, yeah. As long as you’re with Techno or someone who can shoot well.” He elaborated. Back in the earlier years of the Syndicate, Philza himself would often take up the task, staying up all night to watch out for Kristin, Techno, Wilbur, and Puffy. Techno tied his hair up into a bun. As great as summer was, long hair wasn’t a great pairing with it.

A blonde man dressed in red ducked behind a tree. Techno barely saw it, as it was well over ten feet away and his glasses were smudged, but either way, the third appearance of this fucking stranger was unnerving at the least. It was time to scare him off.

”Hey, I’m gonna head off alone. I saw a buck a little ways away, but the four of us are gonna scare him off.” It was a terrible lie to say the least, but both Phil and Tommy bought it. Wilbur eyed him carefully.

“We can go hunting later, it’s fine.” He said. Techno shook his head.

“Tubbo wanted to make something special for our new start and said it would take a couple hours. Since the store didn’t have much meat, I figured I’d help him out.”

”How generous of us.” Tommy said. From how loud the kid spoke, it Techno almost flinched away from behind him.

“Of me. You’re gonna scare it off too. You can go with Wil. Right?” He looked back at his brunette brother, who shrugged, but nodded.

“Why not?” Wil said as he pulled Tommy onto Tallulah’s saddle. Great.

”Don’t get arrested!” Phil called out. Techno knew it was a joke, but the remark still caused his stomach to flop. Whatever. Worst case scenario, he could shoot his little stalker dead and it would all be dealt with.

He rode off as quietly as he could, veering left. The stranger wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Techno had to keep looking. He was so sick of the constant feeling of eyes on his back. Not to mention how fucking creepy that guy even is.

And as if he had somehow summoned the mysterious stranger just by thinking about him, he began to speak, behind Carl. Techno startled.

“Looking for me?”

”What the fuck are you doing? Why are you following me everywhere?” Techno asked, jumping from Carl’s saddle to the ground. His boots thudded when they hit the ground. The man raised his eyebrows, amused.

“You’re an interesting man, Technoblade.”

”You have one more chance to explain before I lodge a bullet into your skull.” Enough. He pulled out his revolver - Had Tommy not returned his other one? - and aimed it up at the man’s face.

“I just have one question for you.” He answered.

”What?”

”Why’d you help him? You’re a mass murderer, a thief, a liar. Why didn’t you kill the boy?”

He was talking about Tommy. Of course he was. Techno opened his mouth to come up with some witty remark, but fell short. Why did he save Tommy?

“I don’t know. I don’t like killing kids.”

”Those theives from Kinoko were around the same age as him, yet the only reason they’re still alive is because of the sheriff. So why’d you save him?”

”Who are you?”

”A stranger. A watcher of sorts.” Techno could’ve sworn he saw wings for a split second as the man said the word ‘watcher’. The second he got home, he had to go straight to Kristin. He was definitely going insane. “I want my son to be like you, y’know.”

He had a son? Maybe he was just as fucking cryptic and annoying as his dad.

“That’s enough.” Techno raised the gun once more.

“Take care of him for me, will you?” Was the last thing the man said before Techno squeezed the trigger once, then twice, then a third time. He tried a fourth, but it jammed. He glanced down at the weapon. Hadn’t he just cleaned it this morning?

When he looked up, the man was gone. No corpse, no blood, no nothing.

Chapter Text

Dickhead.

It had been two days since Technoblade shot the stranger. As much as he’d like to lie and say the entire conversation hadn’t bothered him, that he was glad for the sense of newfound peace and lack of being watched… those last words rang around in his head, ricocheting like a bullet.

“Take care of him for me.” Who?

Techno didn’t need to take care of anybody. With Wilbur, Phil, Sally, Tommy, and pretty much everybody else in the Syndicate, he was not going to take care of another man’s son. Again.

“Can't we get food before doing this, Blade?” Tommy whined.

“No. Not everything revolves around your stomach.” He replied. Gods, the smell of manure reeked. “Just pick a horse. And don't call me that.”

Tommy groaned, head lobbing back. But he did as told, hesitantly looking into each of the stalls of the shady stable. The horses varied in size, color, and age, but he stopped in front of a white one with brown patches. A pinto, only a bit smaller than Techno’s own horse.

“Don’t forget about replacements for Dream and Skeppy!” Wilbur, atop Tallulah, called from his spot outside. Right.

If it weren’t for Dream’s previous plans of which he refused to specify, he probably would’ve been right here to interrogate the poor stableboy or owner of the quality of each horse.

A black Shire faced him. It was pretty much the same breed as the original Spirit, which he might appreciate. Whatever. They don’t exactly have many options, considering there’s only six horses to pick from. As for Skeppy, the brown Arabian would have to do. Nightmare and Diamond, respectively. Carl was a cooler name.

“Henry!” Tommy said, reading the name written on the sign. Techno watched the two of them bond. Phil had bought Carl for him when he was around Tommy’s age, and the warm, welcome feeling of nostalgia washed over him. The blonde fed Henry a sugar cube.

“For those three, that’ll be 850.”

Gods.

“850? For three?”

”Well, the Arabian is our best, and the white one comes from the Halo breeding farm, so they cost extra.” The stableboy said, indifferent to Techno’s disbelief. He considered making Tommy pick another, but the kid looked so damn happy. Whatever. He still had plenty from the train robbery a few months ago.

After being borderline robbed by Kinoko’s stables, Wilbur held the reins of the two new horses tight. Tommy stood in front of his new horse, curious.

“Can you help me get up?” He asked Techno. With a sigh, he did as asked, lending his hand out for Tommy to clutch as he secured his foot in the stirrup and swung the other over.

“Careful, you’re gonna take my eye out!” The elder had to duck to avoid a black eye. Great. Wilbur laughed.

“Kick him harder, Toms!” He egged on.

”You’re not helping.” Techno said with a glare.

”Yes I am. If you have a black eye, you can stay with us tonight instead of working for Phil.”

“I would go with the black eye. Besides, both of you will probably be asleep by the time I leave anyways.”

“What are you doing with Philza?” Tommy asked.

“Work.” Technoblade wasn’t exactly going to admit to his evening plans and their inclusion of arson in the middle of town. Or to Tommy. He cannot keep a secret for the life of him.

Phil had been hired by Sapnap’s grand father, Callahan, to deal with some farmland owned by the rival family the Jacobs. Techno didn’t really understand the whole ‘two families hating each other’ thing, but they were getting paid a metric fuckton to do so.

“You feel okay on that horse?” Wil asked. Tommy nodded enthusiastically.

“Good. We can go now.” Techno said.

*****

As predicted, both his brother and Tommy had fallen asleep by the time Technoblade was ready to leave with Niki and Aimsey. The latter held two mugs of coffee, and extended one towards Techno as he neared the kitchen.

“Thanks,” He downed as much as he could, not wanting to stall any more. It burned his tongue a bit, but the caffeine boost woud be so worth it. The steam fogged up his glasses.

”We’re probably not going to return until dawn, so I figured we could use some coffee,” They explained cheerfully. The other mug found itself into Niki’s hands.

“I’ll drink it on the way.” She said.

"Sally will be at the back fence with Carl, Nelson, and Fungi. We go there when it's all done." Niki explained as they rode off. The journey was barely half an hour, just enough time for the caffeine to take effect. His fingers trembled ever so slightly from it.

The Jacobs property was huge . The brick path leading up to the main gate started a mile away, lined with even more cherry blossom trees. A fence of iron bars surrounded the estate. In the distance, Techno could make out a Queen Anne’s house, light blue with white trim. Not even the Syndicate could fill up half that place.

Before he could take a longer look, his glasses nearly fell off from the stupid wagon going over a loose brick. He took that as his cue to hide beneath the tarp. Underneath, Aimsey squeezed his eyes shut, shaking. Right, they were claustrophobic.

The wagon rolled to a stop. Techno shoved himself up against the bottles of kerosene in an attempt to keep them from clinking against each other.

“Hello!” Niki said to the guards.

“What’s your business here?”

”Just a whiskey delivery. Y’know, the new stuff.”

”Whiskey? We aren’t expecting one of those today.”

“Uhh, we got here early. Rode all night instead of staying at an inn.” She recovered quickly, and the wagon lurched forwards once more. The coast was clear then.

Techno and Aimsey poked their heads out once more.

The Jacobs wheat fields spread out for miles in both east and west from the house. Guards patrolled the paths leading up to them, so they’d have to be quiet. Niki glanced back at the two of them. Time to go.

As quietly as he could, Techno hopped off the wagon, and then grabbed Aimsey’s hand as they did the same. They ran to the field before a guard turned around to see them, while Techno grabbed two bottles of kerosene. Considering how flammable wheat was, they probably didn’t even need all of it.

He handed one to Aimsey, and they both popped off the corks, and began pouring. He walked as close to the edge as possible without being seen, letting the liquid of the bottle slowly drain out as he went. Then, he went in deeper, to what he assumed the center was.

Aimsey’s brown eyes met his own, and then they slowly, slowly crept out of the field. Too much rustling, and the night guards would notice.

Niki met them at the edge, with the remaining kerosene bottles. Then, a guard turned around, the light from his lantern almost reaching them. Techno did the first thing he thought of: grabbing Niki, covering her mouth, and pulling both her and Aimsey into the field once more.

The light neared, and then passed once more. The three left, running for the other field as fast as they could.

Dawn was just barely breaking through when Niki opened the lighter and tossed it onto the ground. The crops were instantly ablaze. Mayhem followed the pink hues growing into the sky, as the guards surrounding the Jacobs property realized what had happened, and noticed the three Syndicate members leaving. Ash and gunpowder mixed in the air, bullets falling like leaden hail.

Techno pulled Aimsey close to him. He’d be damned if he let someone so young get shot under his watch again . Niki led the way out, as he fished his shotgun out from over his shoulder. He turned around, and landed a load into the chest of the closest guard. They fell to the floor.

They reached the back wall, and as Niki prepared to boost Aimsey over, Techno provided cover. Two guards coming in from the front, and another hiding behind a couple of hay bales. The last of the three was the first to die. Then the other two, one after another.

Sally cursed as she caught Aimsey on the other side of the wall. Techno then did the same for Niki. A few yards away, more people approached. Fuck. He hadn’t considered this. Lodging his foot into the gaps between bricks, he dragged himself onto the top of the wall. The fabric of his shirt tore with a bullet. Oh, for fuck's sake.

He turned around, shot the offender between the eyes, and hopped onto Carl’s saddle.

”Go, go, go, go.” He said, and the four set off galloping, as they fled the scene.

Technoblade turned back to look at the estate, and saw sparks flying up into the air from the flames. He met the eyes of one of the guards.

"We gotta take a detour, one of 'em saw us."

Chapter Text

In the Syndicate, the first Sunday of every month was a god given blessing. Well, a Captain-given blessing, Technoblade supposed. Laundry day. June 4th. Tommy, Tubbo, and Beau scurried about the clotheslines, hanging up sheets and clothes. Puffy and Wilbur manned the tub planted atop the kitchen table, filled to the brim with soapy water.

Fortunately for Techno, he had possibly the best task out of the entire day: darning socks. Instead of working his muscles sore scrubbing dirty fabric or pinning sopping wet shirts to thin pieces of rope, he got to sit in the shade, with a jar and a basket of everyone’s socks, sewing patches into them.

Fundy sat with him, drawing with Techno’s journal and a spare pen.

Tommy’s, by far, had the most holes. Almost half had the small ‘TY’ embroidered into them. Speak of the devil, he walked past with a scowl and his tongue stuck out. Fundy mimicked the motion back to him. A mischevious smile crept across the blonde’s face as he showed off his middle finger, and, like clockwork, Fundy copied.

“Fundy, don’t do that, kid.” Techno said, barely looking up from his work.

Like every laundry day, the entire Syndicate ate together, sat in a cluster in the grass. This time, everyone had bread, canned veggies, jerky, and cherries. The fruit had become abundant in the month the Syndicate had stayed in Kinoko, which made sense, considering their location in the middle of a cherry grove during peak harvest season.

”Did you know Aphrodite offered Paris cherries in some stories?” Techno offered up the tidbit of information, paraphrasing his book from this morning. Phil tilted his head slightly.

“I thought she offered him Helen’s love? Isn’t that what started the whole Trojan War?”He asked.

“Yeah, but in some stories, that whole thing was symbolized with cherries.”

It was one of Technoblade’s favorite stories, both because of how entertaining the golden apple fiasco was, and how much Paris valued love. How far Achilles had gone for the same feeling. How much pain the feeling brought. Hell, it took down an entire city-state.

But Techno understood. Paris and Achilles were near and dear to his heart. Love was a noble pursuit, no matter how unrelatable he found romance. Looking around at the fifteen others surrounding him, he decided the swell of his heart and the light in his family’s eyes was so worth going to war for.

The whole trojan horse part was absurd, though.

“Your shirt’s ripped.” Skeppy pointed out, nudging the tear with his elbow as he shoveled a spoonful of peas in his mouth. One fell onto the grass.

“Yeah, it’s from last night’s job.”

At this, he raised an eyebrow.

”That was two days ago now. You’ve just been asleep for like, eighteen hours, Techno.”

”Bruhhh,” Was all he gave as a response.

”We have enough money from your work to buy some new clothes if you’d like, mate.” Phil suggested. Quite frankly, the idea greatly appealed to Techno. He hadn’t bought anything new in well over a decade, nearing two.

Gods, when he thought like that, he felt so goddamned old. Thirty-eight sounded almost ancient.

“I’ll go with!” Wilbur volunteered.

”You promised you would watch Fundy.” Kristin reminded him. Sally merely gave him a scowl. He pretended not to notice the latter, and Fundy pretended not to notice any of them.

“Can I go? Please?” Tommy begged.

It was probably only because he was on dishes duty after lunch. But at the very least, he’d lighten the mood. Tommy was leagues better than just going alone and making that horrifically uncomfortable small talk with the store clerk.

“Sure.”

Once the two of them had finished eating - Tommy scarfing down his food as fast as humanly possible - they set off. To his credit, the kid was so much more bearable when he wasn’t right in Techno’s ear, pressed up against his back.

“So where do you learn all this stuff?” He asked, gazing around at the grove that surrounded them.

“What?”

”You know lots. Greek mythology, constellations, history, book stuff, foraging, flowers…” Tommy drawled on with examples. Why did he have to make Techno sound like such a bore?

“Unlike you, I read.”He shot back.

”Hey! It’s not my fault I’m so busy.” Tommy defended.

“You spent two hours yesterday seeing how much water you could drink in one go.”

He had thrown up because of the escapade an hour later.

”That’s valuable information to know, prick.”

Sapnap waved at the pair of them as they arrived in town. He motioned towards his shoulders, and Techno sighed, but left the gun strapped around his shoulders with Carl. The sheriff wasn’t going to keep him from carrying his revolvers. Logstedshire was enough of a lesson for that.

Despite how grand Kinoko was, with the shiny fountain, the mosaic streets, and the houses freshly painted different shades of jewel-toned red and deep, rich brown, it was nearly a ghost town. Wind echoed against the walls of vacant buildings.

Fortunately, they had a small clothing shop at the end of the main street. From the window, a pair of people browsed the shelves of clothing. Tommy led Techno inside.

He immediately locked eyes with a brunette inside, the man covered in a royal purple coat. Pompous. Despite that, he waved Techno over.

“You’re the new deputy right?”

”Hey, so am I!” Tommy interjected, suddenly right at Technoblade’s sight.

He considered shoving his glove into the blonde’s mouth to shut him up.

“Right. Right. George?” He looked at the man next to him, who took the cue and gave the three of them space. “You know Sapnap, right? The sheriff?”

Great.

“Yeah. Why?”

”Amazing. I’m Karl Jacobs. I will give you whatever you want if you deliver this letter to him.” He pulled out a thick envelope from an inside coat pocket. The paper was heavy and high quality, stamped closed with an intricate spiral design in cerulean wax. Karl then pulled out a silver ring on a chain to go with the letter.

“Anything?”

”Within my family’s abilities.”

”Is the Jacobs family of elites able to spare a guitar string?”

*****

Tommy and Technoblade found themselves inside of the sheriff’s office within the hour. Sapnap grinned at the sight of the letter, immediately snatching it from Techno’s hands. Tommy gave him a confused look at the lack of the necklace.

It was sterling silver. Techno would have to be fucking crazy not to sell that.

“So… why can’t you just get the letter yourself?” Tommy asked.

“I’d be disowned. Our family’s ancestors had this whole argument from some feud before my parents were born, and now they’re in this whole pissing contest.” He answered simply.

Jesus. The bourgeoisie were so uptight. Then again, Phil and Billiam had the same thing, but that was different. That was over the spilled blood of Philza’s son.

“Oh.”

Outside, the rythmic clattering of a horse’s hooves stormed past the sheriff’s office. Sapnap and Techno looked out the window, side by side. Sally dashed through the town and into the woods.

“Isn’t that one of your friends? Can you tell her to knock it off with the running?” The police officer said, but Techno was already halfway out the door. Tommy trailed behind him.

Was Sally alright? Had she been shot?

Techno couldn’t recall a single moment that she had been in such a rush. He soon followed after her, directing Carl to the tracks she left in the woods.

“Techno, slow down!” Tommy called. He did, barely.

Once the two had returned to camp, he immediately spotted the ginger in Phil’s tent, pacing. He let out the pent up exhale he had been saving, and glanced back to check on Tommy.

The kid was clambering off of Henry. Technoblad helped him down, and was promptly beckoned over by Phil. Kristin sat on the bed, shaking her head with her arms crossed. Dream stood by Sally’s side.

“Techno! Come here!” He yelled. Guess getting clothes was out of the window.

“What’s the problem?” Techno asked as he entered the tent. Like he has been for the past hour, Tommy attempted to follow, but was shoo’d away by Dream. Polite.

“Billiam’s offered a parley.” Phil explained. Genuine excitement shone in his eyes. What on earth?

“And you actually believe it?” Techno asked, skeptical.

“That’s what I said!” Kristin exclaimed, raising her hand in Techno’s direction. At least one of them had some sense.

“His weird ass right hand man told me himself!” Sally defended.

Techno had only met him once, and the young follower’s complete and utter silence unnerved the absolute life out of him. Plus, he reminded him too much of Ranboo. Uncanny.

“Why on earth are y’all trusting anything those people say?” He asked. Maybe they had eaten some bad mushrooms or something. That would at least make more sense.

“Look, whether it’s a lie or not, we need to take that chance!” Phil said.

”And if one of our own gets shot?” Techno questioned. There was no way in hell he’d let Sally go. Or Ranboo. Or Beau, or anyone else that young.

“That’s why me n’ you can go to keep Phil covered.” Dream insisted, bumping his elbow against Techno’s own.

”I’m not going. Neither are Sally or Wilbur. Or Beau.” He argued back. Dream scoffed.

“You act like you get to set that rule. They can decide for themselves, Technoblade.”

”Sally and Wilbur are parents, and Beau’s barely even able to legally drink! She doesn't need to be dying over our stupidity.” He shot back.

“If she wants to come, she can. At least she’d actually be pulling her weight around here.”

For a split second, Technoblade saw red. Phil slammed his fist down on the table before Techno got the opportunity to do something he’d regret.

“Enough. We’re going. End of discussion. Techno and Dream, you two are coming with.”

”Phil, you can’t be serious.”

”Look, Tech, we could use the weight off our backs. With the Wardens, the police from Logstedshire…” He explained. “What’s one leap of faith?”

Phil always said that. And he was not going to budge on this, was he?

“Fine. If we do this, we need backup, in case it goes wrong.” Techno finally relented.

“That’ll be your job.” Dream said with a triumphant smile.

Knots began tying themselves into Technoblade’s gut. Laundry day had been going so well.

*****

“So you’re going to be watching from a distance with a sniper rifle, and if anything goes wrong, you swoop in and save the day.” Dream said, handing Techno the gun before climbing onto Nightmare’s saddle.

”Right.”

It was better than nothing.

”We’ll have weapons on us as well, so don’t worry.” Phil said, in an attempts to reasssure him.

“Yeah. We’re risking that for you, y’know, since we were told specifically not to bring them.” Dream cut in.

They rode in silence. Technoblade had no clue where they were headed, only that it was down southwest. A bit too close to both Pogtopia and Logstedshire for comfort.

As they traversed through a valley in between two cliffs, his heart began to race. Was this the place? It all felt so wrong. They needed to go.

“We’re gonna turn here, mate.” Phil said, turning around for a second to face Techno. So this was it.

While going up into the cliffs, he spent the time to examine the terrain. Was there anywhere Billiam could be hiding men for an ambush?

”By the way, tomorrow, we’re doing the job in El Rapids. If all goes well.” Phil broke the silence once again. Techno nodded, still silent. “But as for now, you’ll leave after us, when everybody’s gone, so you’re not noticed.”

They didn’t stop at the top, instread opting for a wide ledge near the middle of the cliff on the left hand side of the meeting point. He took the hint and got situated behind a few bushes. Damnit, he should’ve brought a hat. His pink hair, braided, stuck out like a sore thumb. He ducked lower behind the bush.

Shrubs were digging into his arms and elbows. Dream took the gun from his hands, and pointed it at a spot in between a tall oak tree, and a pine bent over. Sparse bits of yellowed grass interrupt the clay-like dirt. Dust was everywhere. Upon taking a closer look with the sniper, he could make out clusters of small, white flowers dotting around the area.

Hemlock, maybe?

Techno couldn’t be wasting his time deciphering the types of flora right now.

He set down the sniper as Dream got up to follow Phil away. Techno stopped him, grabbing him by the sleeve.

“If my father dies today, it will be on you. I’ll make sure you pay for that mistake, right?” He muttered, low enough to escape Phil’s hearing. Dream nearly nodded, and yanked his arm out of Technoblade’s grip.

A crow cawed behind him, and he nearly leapt off the cliff from the noise. He glanced in its direction, and saw the bird perched in a small oak tree. Watching him.

Because it made complete sense that Technoblade was the one needed monitoring.

Despite the sarcasm, he did appreciate the gesture. He breathed ever so slightly easier.

When two horses approached Dream and Phil, Techno stiffened. He adjusted his place, laying flat on the ground so that he was practically invisible to the four that stood down there.

Billiam was the first to get off his horse, a stray bit of pink hair floating in the wind. The rest had been tied into a bun. Unlike the rest of his gang, he bore no uniform, merely a black dress shirt and pants. Were his boots seriously polished? Silver rings decorated his hands, as necklaces did the same around his neck.

Like Sally had predicted, the Ranboo doppleganger was right at his side, wordlessly watching the three of them. He fumbled around with the golden yellow neckercheif tied around the coller of his black shirt. How cute, the two were matching.

Techno couldn’t make out what any of them said, but Phil’s expression remained unconcerned. The former glanced around, ensuring Billiam hadn’t thought of the same idea to hide his own men up in the cliffs. Save for a dark brown owl.

Phil and Billiam continued to speak.

He watched the latter’s hands and body language, waiting for a signal of sorts. It never came.

They shook hands. Billiam laughed.

Techno let out a breath. Phil and Dream walked away, and got onto their horses. They had made it. They weren’t ambushed or attacked, and Phil was alive. He was okay.

His heart began to slow down.

And then another man laughed, this one right behind Technoblade.

He turned around right in time to meet a fist to the face.

”There he is!” He exclaimed snidely, grabbing Techno by his collar. Shit. Before he could make any noise, someone else shoved a gag into his mouth.

Shit.

A glint of sunlight caught his eye. It reflected off a silver pocketwatch, with the numbers painted red.

And then everything went black.

Chapter Text

Technoblade faded in and out of consciousness. His wrists, forced above his head, burned from the rope digging into the tender skin. Everything hurt.

Dried blood caked into his skin. His legs had gone numb, as there wasn’t enough room for him to reach the floor with his arms bound and hung from the ceiling.

His ribs ached. People walked in and out, taunting and beating him.

He had no idea how long it had been.

A door swung open. Footsteps trailed down the stairs. Then, a groan. And a laugh.

"We brought you a friend, Blood God.”

”Go fuck yourself!” A familiar voice yelled back. Techno’s heart nearly stopped at the sound,a nd his eyes flew open.

His brother faced him, just a few feet away. Someone chained him to a metal loop on the wall.

“Wilbur?” Was all he managed to get out.

He never got an answer. Everything just faded once more.

When he finally came to, Billiam sat across the room from him, a small smile on his face. The similarity between the two of them haunted Techno, like an eerie reflection of a different version of himself looking back at him.

His pink hair was now cut short, and steel blue eyes tore through Techno’s own. Billiam toyed with a knife in one hand.

They stayed like that for a beat. Dead silence, only them sizing each other up. Billiam looked triumphant, a smile sickly contorting his face.

Techno broke their eye contact to look around the room for a second. There was a table next to him, with his things. Just out of reach. To the right of where Billiam sat, a staircase led out of the room, the only exit.

Wilbur was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence of his presence being the blood stain where he once sat.

“What the fuck have you done with my brother?”

No answer.

Dream was going to get the beating of a fucking lifetime when Techno got back. When Phil came to get them back. Unless he was kidnapped too. No, Billiam would’ve already either killed the two of them or sold them to the Wardens.

If he was smart, he would’ve already killed Technoblade.

Why hadn’t he?

“Why haven’t you turned me in?” Techno asked him, voice raspy. His throat stung as he spoke. Billiam’s smile widened.

“Why not?” Billiam asked with a smug curiosity. Dread began building all throughout Techno’s body.

“You know how much they’re willing to pay for me. Even for you, that’s a fortune.” He lifted the knife and lazily pointed it at Techno.

“That’s just for you! Imagine if I had Philza Minecraft, who was desparate to save his son from his sworn enemy, to turn in as well.” Techno’s stomach dropped. “Well, along with whoever else decides to storm in here to rescue you. Like your brother.”

He stiffened, but said nothing; He only watched as Billiam stood, approached him, and dug the knife into his gut. Techno screamed. Pain seared through his body, snaking out to his limbs.

After a straggled inhale, the pain only got worse. Billiam twisted the knife, before pulling it out. It was slick with blood. Techno’s eyes fluttered shut, and his footsteps trailed up the stairs.

His awareness faded slowly, floating up and away from the agony in that basement. No. He had to get out. He had to keep Phil safe, and the chances of Tommy ignoring literally everybody and coming after him was nauseating to think about.

Techno opened his eyes once more, intently avoiding the wound and instead glancing up at the ropes that hung his wrists into the air. The rope was attached to a hook. If he swung hard enough, he might be able to yank it off. If he was lucky.

If not, there was always the hard way of wearing the rope down to breaking. Which, he prayed to the gods, he wouldn’t have to do.

So he swayed, slowly taking control of his legs and barely making contact with the ground on the very tips of his toes. The rope slowly slid up the hook. Techno swung himself harder, biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He looked back up, black spots dotting across his vision. He was almost there. Techno swayed once more, throwing himself to the opposite side of the room.

He flung the rope off the hook, and nearly careened into the ground as he did so.

He hesitantly recovered his balance as he listened to the voices outside. Blocking the staircase off from the outside were two wooden shutters, faded paint chipping off them.

Two, probably men, talked outside them. He turned back to the table. Techno’s vision swam as he made his way to the table holding his things. Who the fuck was stupid enough to leave them here? Whatever, it benefited him anyways.

After double checking everything, the only thing missing was one of his rifles. Wasn’t exactly surprising, considering it was the one he had stolen off of Billiam himself about a year before.

Technoblade would’ve laughed if he wasn’t literally bleeding out as he pulled out a knife. His hands shook as the blade was unsheathed. It clattered to the floor. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Fucking idiot. Casual.

The voices outside stopped. The shutters opened right as Techno ducked to a wall alongside the staircase. Footsteps. He prayed to whatever gods were out there that it was only one person, and not both.

It seemed to go in his favor, surprisingly, as he soon found himself face to face with a man with raven hair, long and shaggy. Despite Techno’s dizziness, the man was on the floor, dead, before he had time to even gasp.

He crept up the stairs, one hand against the wall to keep himself from falling over. One of the doors laid open. The other was nowhere to be seen. Worst case scenario, he saw his buddy die and ran off to tell the others.

Either way, it gave Techno time to run off. Houses surrounded the left hand side, and as he barely peeked over the wood of the other shutter, he watched as a guard turned the corner, out of sight.

Where was Wilbur?

v

He couldn’t leave his brother.

A few feet away, nearing the outskirts of the town Billiam had occupied, stood a broken down wheelbarrow. He ran up to it, and then pressed his back against it. Techno faced the forest.

And then he slowly turned around the examine the area.

A man in a yellow vest was tied to a pole two houses away. Wil. Three men surrounded him, and- Techno averted his eyes. Was anyone else nearby?

No. After all, it was the middle of the night. Hopefully, most everyone was asleep.

He gripped the knife, and got closer. After eating shit from tripping on a rock, only one house stood between Techno and his brother. He ducked behind its wall as a couple people glanced in the direction of the noise.

Why’d he have to be so clumsy?

A knife wound in the stomach does that to a person, he supposed.

Techno took another look at the group. One of them, only a few feet away, saw him. He was barefoot and blonde, with a scraggly beard, and headed right for the escaping captive. Techno beat him to the punch.

He tackled the man to the ground once they were out of sight, and drove a knife into his neck. Blood gurgled out of his mouth, drowning him before he could make noise. It sprayed against Techno’s face.

Where’d you go?” Someone else called out.

Now or never.

Techno reached for his revolver. He then, stepped out from behind the house and shot the two remaining men. Wilbur didn’t move.

His heart froze. For a split second, he was back in the cabin up north, looking up at Jack’s blank stare. No. Wil’s chest rose ever so slightly.

Using the bloody knife, he untied his brother from the post, and caught him right before he fell face first onto the ground. Gods, why did he have to be so damn heavy?

Technoblade had managed to carry him to the edge of the forest by the time the first gunshot sounded. Fuck. Fuck. He plopped Wilbur over his shoulder, and ran.

It was more like stumbling blindy through shrubs and trees while praying that he didn’t drop his brother or run into the trunk of a spruce tree, but same difference.

He broke into a stumbling sprint towards the woods, away from the houses, away from Billiam and his men, and gone.

Summer night air whipped against him. He glanced down to find his jacket gone, and his red shirt in tatters, some parts darkened. Techno ceased any thoughts of his injuries. That was for later.

That was, until, he stepped onto a squirrel instead of the actual ground. The animal screeched out in pain, and instantly wriggled its way out from underneath Techno’s boot. The two of them went careening to the ground.

“They’re over here!” Someone yelled, yards away.

Wilbur groaned.

“Shh, shh.” Techno whispered back to his brother, pulling his unconcious body up from the ground and dragging it along.

The adrenaline from earlier had completely gone.

There was no running. His only hope was to find a place to hide and pray to whatever gods he could that they wouldn’t be found.

He layed down behind a bush, Wilbur right in front of him.

With the darkness the forest provided, his best bet was to gain as much distance as he could and then hide. He ran for what seemed like ages, breath hurriedly escaping his lungs. The gunfire dwindled.

Then it stopped completely, someone yelling far away. Only then did he also stop, ducking behind a tree. When he looked behind him, wherever the Billiams had settled was only a few specks of light. A horse whinnied.

He turned back around and saw the shaky glow of a lamp only a few meters away. His luck had to run out sooner or later. Techno began to run again, Wilbur on his back, this time all too aware of the burning in his legs as he did so.

They gave in. His eyes met the dew-covered grass of the forest brush. The pain from the fall almost pushed him to burst into sobs. The horse neared him. The lady on it sounded a lot like Sally.

Sally. He prayed she had gotten away safely, and that Billiam hadn’t caught her as well. She’d make sure the Syndicate wouldn’t leave Tommy in their dust, and maybe even adopt him as one of their own, like Phil did with Techno. He took in a trembling breath.

“Tech, where are you?” The voice asked again. A gasp, and then another wave of bone-chilling agony coursed through him as someone turned him over. Red hair, green eyes, brows knit together in desperation. “You’re not dying on me now, c’mon,”

His arm was slung over her shoulder and then his entire body was dragged to the horse. Persephone, and on top of her, Kristin, who tugged him on behind her. Sally clutched onto Wilbur the entire way back.

The ride felt like an eternity. Every time Techno’s eyes drifted close, one of them would shake him back awake. His entire body shivered from the cold. Someone put a jacket over his shoulders.

*****

Techno awoke in his bed. Moonlight shone between the gaps of canvas, right onto Tommy’s blonde hair. His head, surrounded by his arms, rested right by Techno’s left elbow. Tommy sat on a wooden chair next to the bed. He let out a drawn out breath. The two of them were alone in the tent.

Everything that had happened in the past however long began dawning on him. He could’ve died. He could’ve gotten *Phil* killed. Reckless. Not to mention Tommy and Wilbur. Techno coughed.

It tore its way through his scratch throat, and his lungs burned from the fit. His fingers dug into his blanket. Tommy startled awake, immediately grabbing a cup of water from the dresser.

He lifted it to Techno’s lips, and emptied in a matter of seconds.

The blonde leaned back in the chair, watching Technoblade carefully. He, on the other hand, couldn’t help but begin to cry.

Chapter Text

Technoblade granted himself two days before returning to his usual routine. He also made Tommy swear on his horse not to tell anybody about that night. The kid laughed at him, but obliged. Phil gave him the plans for El Rapids and reminded him to memorize the blue prints.

Kristin, however, was nowhere near as supportive.

“Techno, honey, c’mere. I need to check on your wounds.” She called from the tent.

Immediately upon entering, unease filled the air. He began wringing his hands together. It was ridiculous this was his mother. “How have you been feeling?”

He plopped himself down onto the bed on the left hand side. The other one had blankets strewn across it, like someone had slept there. Before he could ask, a string of curses fell out of his mouth.

“Shit- I always forget how much it stings,” Techno explains after a moment of hesitation, still through clenched teeth. She said nothing, but gave him a sympathetic look, as she continued dabbing the doused cloth onto his stomach.

Funny, it seemed only a few weeks ago he had been watching her do the same for Tommy.

The bandages had been replaced within minutes, but as he stood to leave, gingerly stretching, Kristin grabbed his hand so gently it was like she thought he would break. His face burned in shame at the idea of what she thought of him.

“Wait, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

His heart began racing.

Was she upset with him? Phil always adorned the same tone when he was preparing one of his lectures of ‘I have to provide for twenty people, why are you questioning me on this, do you understand how much I have to lose?’.

“Yeah?” He offered a smile, but her expression remained somber.

Oh gods. She wasn’t mad. Even worse.

“How are you feeling?” She repeated the same question as earlier. He looked away with a nervous chuckle.

”Like I said, I’m fine. It’s good to be back.”

”Techno.”

”What?” Why couldn’t she just be happy for him? Phil was elated at the sight of him walking around the other morning, and he immediately filled Technoblade’s arms with the schematics of the mayor’s house, the Art of War, and a replacement for the gun Billiam stole. A Winchester Model from 1873. Not his favorite, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Do you know what happened to you?”

The feeling of the cold, damp air of the basement prickeld against his skin as the ghost of blood filled his mouth. He didn’t answer.

”You were gone for nine days.”

What?

No. No he wasn’t. It was barely even twenty-four hours. But with another look at Kristin’s face, it was obvious he was wrong.

Why doesn’t he remember any of it? How long was Wilbur there? How is he not dead?

He opened his mouth to ask any of these questions, or any of the rest that flooded his mind, but the one that came out instead was:

“Why did nobody come get me?” His voice was small, like a seven year old just yelled at by his father. The second half of the question remained unsaid. Why hadn’t Phil saved him?

Of course, it was smart that he didn’t. If he had, it would’ve been walking straight into Billiam’s trap, and then the two of them would’ve been sold to Wardens and promptly executed for their crimes. Not to mention the Syndicate. Somebody had to stay to lead them. And Philza Minecraft was good at leading them.

But the meek kid inside him begged for his dad.

“I- I don’t know.” Kristin admitted. She knealt below him, cltuching his hands in his lap. “I don’t think he knew what had happened for the first few days.”

Techno was supposed to come back later, after all.

He was being ridiculous. Wilbur had tried. The attempt was as futile as most of his younger brother’s bravado-filled rescue missions, but… still. If it weren’t for Sally, neither of them would be alive.

Philza Minecraft was a busy man. Techno would be spoiled to think he’d be able to spare every single moment for him.

“It doesn’t matter.” He wiped his expression clean, instead adopting exact neutrality. Her brows furrowed together in confusion as he stood.

”It wasn’t right of him. You and I both know that.” Kristin said. He ignored her.

Techno spent the rest of the day copying down the house schematics. By sundown, he had them memorized. Tommy approached cautiously. Puffy followed behind him. He leaned back with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gods, his hands were sore.

“Hello,” He greeted the two of them. Tommy gave him the usual, toothy grin, but Puffy awkwardly pushed forward the folded clothes piled onto her hands.

”These are for you. Your last good shirt was ruined with the- was ruined last week,” She spoke as if he was a wounded animal, “So, Tommy and Niki helped me pick out some new ones for you.”

Within one look of the stack, that much was evident. It all spanned across various hues of whites, browns, and above all, blues.

“Thank you,” The idea of clothes had been the last thing on his mind; the gesture really was appreciated. Without much more conversation, Puffy left with a warm smile. Tommy, however, stayed.

He sat on the floor. In his hands, a peach and a pocket knife, which he used to slice the fruit into halves, then quarters. Juice dripped down his arms, onto his pants and the ground - Techno was going to have to clean that, wasn’t he? Tommy handed Techno a slice.

The fruit was sweet and delicate. He’d always loved peaches. One of the many, many upsides to the summer season. It matched the skies outside: hints of pink and red painted over orange.

*****

Techno couldn’t sleep. He’d stopped writing well after everyone else had gone to bed, and laid in his own for hours. With everything tinged in the blue moonlight of the night, he tossed and turned ceaselessly.

In all honestly, he’d only slept once since Sally found him. The memory of the dream was hazy at best, but the feeling of being prey sniffed out in the place he called home hadn’t really washed away.

No point in dwelling on it. He stood from his bed, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, and wandered the camp. Soon enough, Techno found himself walking along the shore of the lake. The further away he strayed from the camp, it almost seemed as if the air had been cleared of the muggy confusion surrounding him like a dark fog.

The water seemed to be as dark as ink in this light. White spots of the moon’s reflection danced along the surface. About a quarter around, he stumbled across a delapitaded wooden dock. Sitting at the edge, Wilbur.

Of course.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked. His brother nearly fell into the water from the scare, and Techno couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Sorry.” He said, in between wheezes.

“The quiet’s refreshing.” Wilbur said. He dipped his feet into the water. Techno sat beside him, cross legged.

“True.”

They stayed silent for a beat.

“Did Phil notice that I was gone?” He hadn’t even meant to say it. But even then, he still eagerly awaited for any form of response. Wilbur’s brows knit together. He shrugged.

“He knew you were gone. He wasn’t worried, if that’s what you want.”

More silence.

“How do you move on so quickly from this?” Wil asked.

”What?”

”You’ve been walking around all day like nothing happened. I can barely even get out of bed.”

An inexplicable spark of bitterness rose up Techno’s throat like bile, and he closed his mouth before he’d say something he’d regret. He didn’t get a choice to just lay in bed all day. People needed to be taken care of.

Instead, it was his turn to shrug.

“Easier to just not think about it, I guess.”

Wilbur began to speak, eyes intently focused on the water, but Techno’s attention waned. Two figures stood a little ways away, speaking. One of which, slightly shorter, gesticulated wildly, occaisonally pushing the other. Lover’s quarrel, he supposed.

Until the other yelled back.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like, to have twenty-odd people to support-” His voice trailed out of Techno’s earshot, and Wilbur’s rambling made it all the more difficult. Surely it wasn’t Phil and Kristin. But both brothers had learned that speech pretty much by heart.

“Quiet. Shut up.” He muttered, and recieved a glare in response. Techno gestured to the people and Wil’s eyes widened.

“For fuck’s sake.” He whispered. Then he stood, and began creeping off the deck. What on earth was he doing? Techno followed close behind, anxious to stay out of their view.

“C’mon, they won’t see us in the woods.” A bit of a stretch, but fine. There wasn’t exactly underbrush to provide cover, but Wilbur continued to lead him closer and closer to the couple.

They pulled into a crouch a few yards away, huddling behind a cluster of trees. A pink petal landed in Wil’s curly hair.

”-your recklessness is going to kill them. It could’ve already! What would’ve happened if they had decided to just get rid of Techno and Wil? What then?”

”It didn’t happen. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

”Have you even looked at your sons? Their wounds? Wil’s hid himself away from everyone, and Techno’s following you around because-”

”Because what?” Phil whipped around to face her, towering over her. She stared up, resolve refusing to break.

“He’s going to be killed if you keep leading him down this route. How many times has he gotten shot in the past six months?”

”You are treading on some very thin ice here. I’m not leading him down anywhere. He chose to do this. As did Wil.”

”He was sixteen!”

Phil stormed off, silent. In their direction. Techno pulled Wil up against him, pressing his back as close as he could to the tree. For a split second, the old, haunting smell of gunpowder filled his nose as phantom voices called out for him, taunting him.

Their father walked past without a single notice.

The two of them stayed silent, watching as Kristin followed a few moments later.

Techno said nothing, merely returned to his own tent, and squeezing his eyes shut as he laid in bed.

Chapter Text

The plans were ready to rob the mayor of El Rapids.

The group loaded onto their horses, beginning the long journey over to the small mountain town. Sally avoided Technoblade the entirety of the trip, not even looking in his direction. This was gonna be fun.

Last night’s eavsedropping venture discovery had plagued his mind all four hours. If Kristin cared so much, why didn’t she just talk to him? Plus, Phil wasn’t reckless. They had been planning this job for weeks.

Dream, who was already in El Rapids, had been stalking the guards for days, memorizing their schedules and watching for any weak links. Even he was treating it seriously.

“Tech, did you bring food?”

Skeppy watched him expectantly, like a starved child. Gods. Techno sighed, feigning annoyance, but pulled out a sack of food Puffy had given him before leaving.

At the sight of cornbread and salted rabbit, Skeppy grinned.

”Thank you.” He drew out the last syllable as he reached for the food. With a bite of cornbread in his mouth, he added “Damn, it’s not fair that Puffy picks favorites. I got hardtack.”

”Gross.”

They continued following Phil, Sally, and Ranboo.

“Hey, are you doing okay? You’re quieter than usual.”

”What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… situating myself. Human map, big man.”

Skeppy gave him a look. Ranboo turned around, and their own brows furrowed.

“You’re spending too much time around Tommy,” The latter joked.

”I don’t spend time with him. He follows me. Orphan behavior.”

”Oh my gods I hear it.” Skeppy agreed.

“Shut up, you suck, get good!” He yelled over the two of them bringing up more instances. This is why he doesn’t talk to people.

The temperate, sunny weather of Kinoko soon devolved into the cloudy fog of Essempee’s mountains. El Rapids was close.

Ranboo let out a shaky breath.

“You’re gonna be fine. I’m here to cover you.” Techno reassured them.

“Don’t worry, Wilbur can take over next time.” Skeppy added.

“Why couldn’t he do this one again? His aim’s better than mine now.” Ran asked. They ran a trembling hand through their loose hair.

Techno made a mental note to lend them the bandana that hung around his neck. He had made far too many mistakes with his own long hair blocking his vision, Ranboo didn’t need to repeat them.

“The mayor, George Heurisko, is having a business meeting with a partner of his. Quackity?” Skeppy explained. He then took another bite of food.

“What’s Wilbur got to do with that?” They shot back.

”They had this whole fight rivalry thing a while ago. He wanted to join the Syndicate, but Wilbur was insistent on refusing.” Techno cut in.

Out of all of his brother’s petty enemies, Quackity had to be his least favorite. Other than Schlatt. The former may now be a crime lord, but at least he wasn’t a lapdog for the government.

Plus, Schlatt always stunk of whiskey.

“Wil seems to fight with a lot of people.” Ranboo pointed out. They weren’t wrong. Skeppy snorted.

“You should’ve seen Techno n’ me a few years before he joined.”

“What’d you do?”

”I had this whole thing with Dream. And Skeppy, actually.”

”If y’all can quit chatting, we’re almost there.” Sally called behind her. She did not turn around.

Ranboo’s throat bobbed.

Techno felt for his rifle. He almost forgot that his old one had been stolen. This new one had a scratched grip.

Mayor Heurisko’s house stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the wooden cabins making up the rest of the town. Instead of the deep brown logs and and sod and wooden roofs, brick made up the walls, occaisionally broken up with stained glass windows and freshly painted wooden columns.

George could definitely stand to lose a few dollars.

Mountains, covered by tall pine and spruce trees and white peaks at the top, made the back of the mayor’s hosue a treacherous journey. Hopefully, it’d make it all the more difficult for the Wardens, raised in the city and riding atop the bulky black horses.

The idea of Dream stumbling through on his own Shire with the ridiculous name brought a smile to his face.

Speaking of, the Syndicate member waved them over to a crook in between two peaks. They left their horses there, and followed him in.

Techno hadn’t seen Dream since a few weeks ago, and he birefly considered making those promises he made to himself in Billiam’s custody come true. Maybe after they finished with the job.

”You ready?” Ranboo looked over at him, fidgeting with their hair. Right.

”Fix your hair first, kid.” Techno replied, pulling the blue bandana off of his neck and handing it over to the kid.

Guards rotated positions over the perimiter of Heurisko’s property, and Dream snuck ahead, revolver in hand, and ducked out from behind a tree right on time to knock out the guard on the left hand side.

Both him and Sally dragged the body away as the other two departed from the rest, heading up along the side of the house.

The trip from Kinoko to El Rapids took the entire afternoon, and dusk quickly approached. Good. The dark would provide cover.

Couldn’t be too safe, however. They weren’t reckless, despite Kristin’s accusations.

He tucked his glasses into his pocket and yanked on that old pig mask he'd wear, and Ranboo covered their own face with a scarf, black and white. Then, Techno led them to the cellar doors, also freshly painted. A padlock and chain locked it shut.

Ranboo knelt and began to pick the lock.

In the distance, a dog barked, and the sound was immediately followed by Sally’s shushing and coos, as if she was speaking to a baby Fundy again. Guess she was taking care of the guard dogs.

“Got it.” Ranboo said. The chains fell to the floor.

Techno led the way, cautiously venturing through the organized, clean basement. Barrels of wine lined one wall while shelves upon shelves of food covered the rest of the wide room. Dozens of cans of beans and peaches, crates of potatoes, jars of jams and pickled foods… The Syndicate could live off this for months.

Footsteps approached from the staircase. Techno ignored the chill sent down his spine - Gods, why did everything on earth remind him of Billiam now? - and the two ducked behind a wall of shelves.

Peering through the cans of corn, they watched two porters toting sacks of flowers over their shoulders descend into the room. They chatted between each other, and Ranboo’s eyes widened as Techno inched his way to the edge of the shelf.

One of them, with black hair and freckles all over his face, passed first, immediately shoved into a headlock. The other turned around, setting down his delivery, and Techno took the chance. In one simple, aggressive jerk of the captive’s head, he fell limp to the floor.

The other whiped around to face the noise, and was promptly tackled to the ground.

*****

With the porters’ bodies safely stashed in a half empty barrel of wine and Technoblade and Ranboo now donning their uniform, they returned up the stairs, avoiding eye contact with absolutely anyone.

Luckily, most of George’s usual staff was gone, as there was no point in cooking or cleaning an empty house if the master was spending two weeks in Las Nevadas. Only a single maid had questioned them on the way up to the second floor.

With the simple excuse of forgetting something upstairs, they had free reign over the study. Gues s the staff didn’t care all that much, huh.

The interior of the house was just as extravagant as the outside, if not more. Blue wallpaper and dark mahogany paneling lined the walls, broken up with pieces of art that could cover double Technoblade’s reward money.

They tracked mud on the ornate carpet running through the hallway. Oops.

As the both of them had memorized, the office was the third door on the left. Ranboo picked the lock with ease, pulling the tools out from his pocket.

Techno had much more difficulty hiding his guns, one of which dug into his skin. He had tucked his in between two rows of pickle jars in the basement. Hopefully, nobody would nudge anything or find it and accidentally shoot a hole through the cieling.

The study was just as well decorated as the rest of the house, with multiple leather armchairs strewn across the room, and a large desk at the back. A glowstone chandelier - fucking glowstone, how rich could a small town mayor be? - hung from the cieling.

A grandfather clock chimed behind the desk. Bookshelves lined the walls perpendicular to the door. Techno walked up to the right hand side shelf, and began inspecting the books.

Ranboo knelt at his side.

“Here it is!” They whispered, already pulling out the tools from his bag.

”I’ll keep watch then,” Techno told him, heading to one of the symetrical windows behind the desk. Although the wall surrounding the front of the property blocked much of his view, Dream still maintained his spot in his line of sight.

Techno gave him the signal.

And then a rope found its way around Dream’s neck. He fell to the ground, hands flying to pull the rope off, but two Wardens picked him up before he could do anything.

Shit.

“Ran, we gotta hurry.”

There was nothing either of them could do about Dream. The other three would have to help him. A rather loud part of Techno felt the distinct satisfaction of karma, since Dream had damned him to a worse fate earlier that month.

Ranboo grunted in reply, already busy at drilling away a small hole. Techno’s heart began to pound in anticipation. He ducked his head out the hall to find it empty. Ranboo finished drilling, and they crouched even lower to pick the lock through the small hole of exposed mechanisms.

Last winter he was so curious about what had happened in Pogtopia, maybe it was time to relive something similar.

The small safe door swung open.

“Done.” They scooped out the stacks of cash and gold bars, beaming. He helped, grabbing the bars and shoving them into his bag. Techno may have crumpled a few pages in his journal, but oh well.

“Go, go, go, go, go.” He muttered, rushing his partner out of the room. Confusingly enough, the house was calm. Eerily calm. But no matter, they had to get back to the basement.

The house was void of any staff. Upon a second look at the basement, maybe he should’ve actually taken the time to hide his gun. It was a fucking miracle nobody had seen it, as the vinegar in the pickle jars made it look bigger.

After recollecting their things, the two returned to the doors. Techno took in a sharp inhale. With what had happened with Dream, the chances of an army Warden officers all aiming at them were, well, astronomically high.

Time to go.

He shoved open the doors to find the area empty. Techno instead lowered his gun, and he and Ranboo ran off in the direction of the horses.

Of coure, their good luck couldn’t run for long. After all, it’s not like Technoblade had a good history with all that. Skeppy and Phil were in the process of defending the area from dozens of Wardens. How the fuck did they know?

Even worse, Dream and Sally were nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Text

In a moment’s notice, both Ranboo and Technoblade were at Phil’s side, providing cover. Skeppy stood in front of the youngest, back to them. Techno gave him one glance, and the agreement was made: if either of them got hurt, Ranboo was the priority.

As for the Wardens, it had become an all out war, with countless officers standing off against the four outlaws. Not a single face was recognizable. How many men did Awesamdude have to spare?

“8 o’ clock, Tech,” Phil yelled over the gunfire, and he turned just in time to be face to face with a deputy. The man’s chest had a bullet in it a second after.

With the horses distressed whinnies and cries, the constant firing, and everyone’s screams, everything quickly became one big blur. The reeking stench of gunpowder clogged Techno’s nose, urging him to keel over and heave.

He didn’t. He merely followed Phil as they advanced forwards.

At one point, Phil and Ranboo left. Techno didn’t notice. His entire body went numb, as if Kristin had just administered the medicine to knock someone out before giving them stitches.

The numbness didn’t keep him from defending himself. It was as if his instincts had completely taken over. He watched from afar.

What was happening to him?

And with a start, he was back in his body. All of the feelings at once almost startled him with how overwhelming it was. The ringing in his ears was far worse.

Skeppy eyed him carefully.

“Did you get hurt?”

“I’m okay. Where are we?”

Technoblade had suddenly become aware of the fact that they were nowhere near the house, nor El Rapids, but instead riding in the middle of a field. How long had he been out of it?

“On the way back to Kinoko?” He answered, confused, “Did you hit your head or something?”

”No, no. I just- I don’t know how to explain it. Whatever. Are Sally n’ Dream alright?”

”You have a lot of questions for someone who saw everything first-hand. Sally’s fine, she managed to get away from the agents that had her. She’s with Phil. Dream wasn’t that lucky. Arrested.”

”Bruhhh,” Was all Techno had to say in response.

“You could at least pretend to be concerned,” Skeppy chided with a laugh.

“He got me into that shit with Billiam, I don’t have to be concerned about anything. Maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll swing before we get him back.”

”Well if we do get him back, you can kill him yourself.”

Dawn had begun to break, and cicadas began singing in the tall blades of chartreuse grass. The past twenty four hours’ events had suddenly began weighing onto him, almost like a physical weight atop his shoulders.

“Hey, I’m gonna go off alone, okay? I just need some time to think.”

“Get home before noon, yeah?” Skeppy answered as Techno rode ahead, “And if you don’t, I’ll actually shoot your leg off I swear!” He yelled after him.

The words held no actual gravity. He said the same thing yesterday morning when Beau ate his cornmeal.

Throughout the ride home, the cloud of confusion slowly faded off, like the cherry blossoms falling from the trees. The ringing also faded. Thank the fucking gods.

That relief was very swiftly replaced with vigilance at the sight of a man walking around mere yards away from the lookouts posts. Techno left Carl and slowly approached with a knife.

The stranger had mousy brown hair and a purple coat.

Jacobs?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Techno asked. The probability of Karl Jacobs about to turn the Syndicate in to the police or whatever else out of malice was… astronomically low. Techno could always blackmail him with the love letters anyways.

“Te- Herakles!” Karl spun around to face him, face breaking into a tight smile.

”Quiet! If anyone hears you, you’ll-”

”I know, I know. Look, I would’ve left you and your, well, group alone, but I have no other choice.”

To Karl’s credit, he did lower his voice a bit. But it was no use, one of the lookout’s head perked up at the sound of voices, and called out, guarded.

“Who’s there?” Tommy.

“It’s just me, calm down Tommy.” Techno yelled back. Instead of calming down, Tommy, like always, did the exact opposite, and approached them. Techno had to clamp his hand over the kid’s mouth to keep him from yelling.

“Quiet.” He urged. Both of them nodded. Tommy licked Techno’s hand. “Ew!”

”Technoblade, I need to get out of here.”

Techno would’ve asked how Karl knew his name, but considering he had found the Syndicate’s camp ground, the topic was best put to rest. For now.

“What? Why?”

”It’s too complicated to explain. Sapnap’s grandparents… My grandfather, they all have it out for us. It’s only a matter of time before things go wrong.”

”You’re not making any sense.” Tommy remarked.

“I overheard my grandfather talking about your father,” Karl said to him. His father? What on earth does a dead pastor have to do with anything? Both pairs of eyes fell on Techno. Oh.

“I’m not his dad,”

”He is not my father,”

The two of them corrected at once. Karl’s eyebrows raised, but he moved on.

“He knows you burnt down the fields at my family’s estate. He thinks I had something to do with it,”

Fuck.

”How on earth does he know that?”

”I don’t know! That’s all I heard!”

Techno would’ve though he was lying, but with the fields…

“Blade, we have to do something.”

”Don’t call me that.”

There was no way they’d be able to spend any of the money from last night’s job on this, it was still way too soon for that. Techno would have to dig into his personal money.

”Technoblade.” Karl pleaded.

”I’m thinking.”

Was he about to waste his money on helping someone who he’s spoken to once in his life?

He took one look at Tommy’s face, just as longing as Karl’s own.

”Fine.”

Payment for the knowledge about the fields, Techno justified. He’s not just giving out his money to strangers for nothing.

*****

Sapnap met them behind the sheriff’s station, and led the three of them into a back room. The room had a small table and a lit oil lamp and nothing more. There was barely enough room for the four of them to stand, and Techno debated kicking Tommy out.

“So you’ll help us?” Sapnap asked, hopeful.

He sighed.

“Yes."

“Thank you,” The police officer replied, face breaking into pure glee. Technoblade was helping police. Police. What had Tommy gotten him into?

“Pogtopia’s a city most folks like me head to when they have to lie low; Nobody will ask questions there.” Techno explained. “Just give them enough money, and things will go just fine.”

”We don’t have much,” Karl admitted, pulling out a small clip of cash from his pants pocket, and a silver pocket watch. Upon noticing Techno’s interest in the item, he added, “Family heirloom. It’ll sell for like, 200 at the most.”

”That’ll be plenty there. Prices are low, because of how much crime there is.”

Sapnap’s jaw set.

“I don’t want to be hanging around that type, Technoblade.”

”You’re asking one for help, so I don’t think you have much choice. Unless you want to stay.”

At that, he went quiet.

They exited the wooden building, and Techno called over the nearest stagecoach from the main street. The operator met them in an alleyway between the general store and the sheriff’s office. Tommy stood in front of a Wanted poster for Philza.

Great. Even those were reaching Kinoko.

“Can you take this couple over to Pogtopia, big man?” Tommy asked the operator. Techno had half a mind to smack him and cut him off, but at the same time, that would mean talking to strangers himself.

“That’s a dodgy area, I don’t really go over there.” The operator answered, already walking away.

”Wait, wait! What’s your name?”

”Foolish?”

”Foolish. Foolish! Big F. My man. You see, my friend over there, he’s got a good chunk of money that he’s willing to pay you for this.” Tommy continued, jerking his thumb over to Techno, who nodded. “Extra if you keep quiet,” The blonde added with a wink.

“Uh- How much?” The operator asked.

Techno pulled out the stack of bills, counting them until he reached the final number.

“50 for the journey, and 75 if you keep quiet.” He offered. Foolish’s eyes widened.

“I guess it won’t be an issue just this once.” Foolish relented, taking all the cash and leading the couple to the stagecoach. Technoblade followed.

“Sapnap, do you have any guns on you?” The sheriff nodded, motioning to the revolver in its holster. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

“Good. Keep both of you safe. Don’t let anyone see what you guys have, and Karl,” He paused motioning towards the brunette, “Change clothes when you get there.”

And with that, they rode off, calling out their thanks as they left. Technoblade had just lost 75 dollars for practically strangers. On the bright side, Tommy was grinning ear to ear.

“Maybe I’ll become sheriff now.” He said as the two walked up to their horses.

“Why do you think that?”

”We’re deputies, man! We’re in the running now.”

Oh gods.

Considering Sapnap probably got the job from his family, he doubted it would amount to anything. But Tommy didn’t need to know that.

At that moment, Techno stopped in the middle of the main street to groan. He had forgotten to ask what had happened with Karl’s grandfather or Sapnap’s family.

“What? Did you just realise how much money you gave them?” Tommy asked, half joking.

“No, I forgot to ask Karl something important.”

”Ask him what?”

”It doesn’t matter now.”

“Aww, man, don’t just leave me guessing like this!” The blonde whined. His leg nearly smacked Carl’s rump as he swung himself onto Henry. “Was it about the fields?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Did he… murder somebody?”

”What? No.” Absurd.

Tommy’s constant and increasingly more outlandish questions provided background noise as they rode home. Was he this annoying with everyone, or just him?

Fortunately for Techno’s sanity, Tommy went off on his own when they arrived, after being told off by Puffy for leaving his post. As punishment, he landed himself bringing hay bales to the horses. Techno, on the other hand, had to speak to Phil.

Inside his tent, the bed was perfectly made, and Kristin was nowhere to be seen. Were they seriously still arguing? Phil, however, sat at a his table, reading. He smiled up at Techno, but inspected him, confused.

“You haven’t changed out of the porter’s clothes, mate.”

Right. Stains of gunpowder dusted the white shirt.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. You know the sheriff of Kinoko?” Techno asked, sitting across from him. Phil closed the book - Infantry Tactics, by Phillip St. George Cooke - to pay full attention.

“Of course.”

”He had this complicated thing with one of the Jacobs’, Karl, who told me about something you should know.”

”Is everything alright?”

“No, Callahan Jacobs knows that we were the ones to burn his fields. And Karl found our camp this morning, so the rest of them will probably find us soon, if they haven’t already.”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I knew I shouldn’t’ve accepted that job.”

“Well, what are we gonna do?”

“Right now? Nothing. I’ll figure something out by dinner and let you know then.”

That’s what he said about the Wardens in Logstedshire. As much as Techno hated to admit it, maybe Kristin was right about Phil’s recklessness.

“Look, try not to worry, yeah? I’ve got it handled, mate. Go get some rest, you need it.”

How was he supposed to sleep with the threat of Jacobs sending Wardens to slaughter them hanging over his head?

Chapter Text

Technoblade didn’t sleep. Both Tubbo and Niki cast him concerned glances with each trip to the pot of coffee to refill his metal mug. Hopefully, Phil would come up with something soon, and this whole mess would be brought to a close.

They had just gotten settled here, being forced out would mean redoing everything, all over again. Plus, Kinoko was pleasant. Maybe it was just the summer season lightening his mood, but it was a better sight to see than the muddy, worn down buildings of Logstedshire.

As the afternoon wore on, he wandered around, pacing, strolling, watching. Kristin stayed in her own tent, busy with bandages and organizing the supplies. Sally continued to avoid Techno. Fun. Skeppy’s snores rattled throughout half the camp.

Fundy was the only one to approach him, completely unbothered.

“Uncle Techno?”

The small, young child sat beside him at the round table. He carried his small, stuffed fox with him. It lacked an eye, and the fox had been repaired by both Techno and Sally so many times he lost count.

“Hello,” He answered, sitting up from his slumped position.

“You look really tired.” Fundy pointed out, plainly. Courteous.

“Thank you,” Techno answered, with no choice but to laugh from the unexpected comment. Fundy swung his small legs as he patted against the wood of the table top.

“Can you teach me how to shoot?” He asked, pointing at the Colt Peacemaker revolver that hung in the holster around his waist. Definitely not.

”I think your mom would shoot *me* if I did that, bud.” Painfully true. Sally had been insisting since Fundy could talk that the kid would become a lawyer or a doctor, or some other high paying job. She also steered him away from any violence in the camp, even when it was just Bill and Tubbo play that stupid knife game where they try not to stab their fingers.

”Oh.”

No matter how stilted the conversation was, Fundy remained in his spot. Before either of them could speak, however, Phil emerged from his tent, making a beeline for Technoblade.

“Mate, we need to talk. Can you get your brother for me?”

”Papa!” Fundy exclaimed, clumsily standing up and hugging the leader of the Syndicate around his legs. Phil said nothing, but ruffled his hair in acknowledgement.

“Is it about the Jacobs?” Techno asked, standing as well.

”No,”

“Who are the Jacobs?” The ginger asked.

“No-one, Fundy. C’mere, let’s go find something for you to do.” The two left Techno to his task.

Finding Wilbur resulted to be incredibly easy; He was holed up in his tent, like usual. Unlike normal, however, Tommy sat with him, cross legged on the ground.

“Wil?”

”Yeah?” The brunette was at his desk, sorting through the stacks of paper that littered across the surface. The wooden box holding the Syndicate’s funds on his bed. Wilbur didn’t look up from the mess, counting on his fingers.

“Phil needs us.”

Wilbur groaned, lobbing his head back. Tommy did the same.

“Right now?” He asked, finally turning to face Techno.

“Right now.” The pink haired cowboy replied.

”Why?”

“Dunno. He didn’t say. He’s babysitting your son.” The last comment slipped out with a very sudden bite.

“Yeesh. Alright.” Wil raised his hands in surrender, following him outside.

“Guess I’ll go fuck off then, huh?” Tommy called, now laying on the floor.

“Fucking gremlin,” The brunette muttered.

The two found Phil at a small table by the horses. Techno was about to ask why they didn’t talk within the privacy of his tent, when he saw Kristin inside. Could they hurry up and reconcile?

“Dream’s set to be hung today. You two need to go back to get him before that happens.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Can someone else do it?” He asked.

“Oddly unhelpful of you.” Phil remarked. He arched a blonde brow in an infuriating mix of confusion and annoyance.

”I don’t exactly feel like saving someone who landed me in Billiam’s care for a week and a half is the best use of my time,” Techno defended.

”Either way, nobody has any enough time to spare. Sally has some personal matters to take care of, and Skeppy and Beau are scoping a casino down in Las Nevadas out.” Why on earth were they already planning for a bigger job than the last, when they had barely made it out of El Rapids just yesterday? He could argue with Phil about that later.

“And Bill?” The newest gunman, but still.

“He’s about to go hunting with Niki,” Phil answered. Techno opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again. He settled for a frustrated sigh.

“Someone’s short-tempered today.” Wil piped up. Then, turning to their father, he spoke again, “We’ll do it.”

Within the hour, Technoblade and Wilbur were on route to El Rapids, with freshly cleaned guns and plenty of ammunition. Wil had brought the latter, although this was supposed to be as subtle as possible.

The likelihood of the El Rapids police using Dream as bait to get more Syndicate members arrested was worryingly high. Then again, the local authorities never had been that smart.

Wardens, however…

They had become a bit too good at guessing the Syndicate’s next move. The sheer amount of agents that had swarmed them yesterday almost guaranteed that they had known in advance where they were going to be.

And as if Wilbur had read his mind, he began to speak.

“Was yesterday really as much of a catastrophe as Sally is saying it is?” He tilted his head like a curious dog.

”Since when are you talking to Sally?” That was not meant to come out.

”What is with you today? You’re very pissy.” Wil retorted, shooting his brother a glare.

”Sorry. I’m irritable.”

“Yeah. She was helping me fix the guitar with that string you bought.”

The two went silent for a bit, as they left the cherry grove. A rabbit dashed by.

“But yes, it did not go well.” Techno said.

“How? Was it Pogtopia train-level?” Wilbur questioned. He squinted at the glare of the late afternoon sun.

It had reached that time of day where sunlight casted everything in gold. His brother’s eyes turned into pools of honey, bodies of water into liquid amber, and the grass into a sunlit carpet that went on for miles.

The contrast from Techno’s state of mine was maddening.

”I wasn’t even at Pogtopia, Wil.”

”Right.” He paused for a second, contemplating, “Can I ask you something?”

Techno sent him a confused look.

“Yeah.”

“Well, pretty much every time one of our jobs went wrong, there was always one specific person there.” What on earth was he going on about? If this was a joke…

“What’d you mean?” He prompted. His brother waited, visibly forming the sentence in his head.

“What if Dream is ratting us out to the Wardens?”

“That’s ridiculous.” Techno immediately said, not even entertaining the idea. “Why would he be arrested right now if that was true?”

Wil thought for another moment.

“Maybe he’s doing it to bait us? Or he’s not even arrested, but just spilling his guts to Awesamdude or whoever the fuck is orchestrating these ambushes,” Carl whinnied.

Unlike the last trip to the town, Wilbur and Technoblade took the long way around the mountains, opting for a route leading to the back. It probably wouldn’t help anyways, but it was worth a try. They began their steady ascent up the mountain.

“Wil, you’ve gotta get out of that tent more. You’re goin’ stir crazy.” Techno finished, dismissing the idea. As much as he hated Dream, there was no way he would’ve sold them out to the pigs in the Warden Incorporation.

“Just… think about it. He was even there when we were driven out of Logstedshire. And he was the one to go after me, Jack, and Ranboo when we were captured, what if he intentionally left us behind?”

To Wilbur’s credit, Dream wasn’t one to turn down a blood bath, especially if the objects of violence were mere bounty hunters.

But if that was the truth, surely Phil would’ve caught on by now. His father wasn’t stupid, and the simple idea of that going over his head would be preposterous. Then again, Techno never thought he’d go so long without noticing.

Whatever, that’s not what was going on.

“All this insomnia is makin’ you go crazy. Like in the Iliad.” Techno’s fleeting attempt at making a joke to lighten Wilbur’s mood paid off, as he looked away from the narrow, rocky path right on time to see his brother repress a chuckle.

“Did Achilles go mad?”

”No, but one of the other warriors did. Ajax.” The man had fought alongside the Greeks during the Trojan war, and after a long feud with Odysseus over Achilles’s armor, he went mad after losing it to him.

“Would that make Dream Odysseus or Achilles?”

Techno didn’t have an answer. Was Dream the man driving Wilbur mad, or the device pushing it from afar, despite having nothing to do with it?

*****

They had stashed their horses in the opening of an abandoned mineshaft a little under a mile away from the sheriff’s building in El Rapids. The distance worried Techno, along with the dead end they’re waiting in, but Tallulah and Carl would come running at one whistle.

Wilbur and Techno just had to outrun the bullets until then.

“You got everything?” Techno asked, reloading his revolvers with a bullet each. Despite how little they held, he found they suited his poor eyesight quite well. Or at least as well as he can get.

“I’m good, man.” He stopped in his place anyways. “You know, we can always just turn back and say we didn’t get here in time. Phil would have no idea, and you could get to watch the motherfucker swing.”

Gods, why did Wilbur have to be so tempting with the suggestion?

To be fair, it would be due revenge for Dream pushing Phil to walk right into Billiam’s trap.

But Phil would always find out. And the idea of what he would do when he learned of their disobedience was leagues worse than having to save Dream’s life.

“I wish we could, but you know what we have to do.”

His brother let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know. I was just hoping you would entertain me for a minute.” Wilbur admitted. “I don’t wanna leave the possibility of Phil finding out about that.” He let out one final exhale, slightly shaky, and pulled the bandana over his mouth.

Techno did the same.

El Rapids was a town of wooden logs and stone, with bridges held up by stilts to provide flat areas without hills. The entire place appeared even duller than Logstedshire with the overcast, grey weather. A light drizzle of rain iced the area.

As they were walking up to the sheriff’s station, Dream’s face poked out from the iron bars covering the basement windows. He lit up into a smug grin at the sight of them.

“You guys came to save me,” He whispered in a damsel-like voice, mocking them. Maybe leaving him to rot wouldn’t be all that bad. Wilbur read his mind.

“We’ll just leave you here then,” He shot back, already turning around.

“Wait! Fine, fine. Thank you. How on earth are you gonna do this?”

Techno hadn’t even considered that. They could wait until he’s brought out to be hung, and shoot the rope. Or they could storm in the office, guns blazing, and break him out before running off.

”Don’t worry, I snagged some of your dynamite.” Wil said simply, pulling out the bundle of red sticks from his jacket. What on earth?

”Where’d you get that from?” Techno asked, turning back to face Dream.

He and his brother knelt down to better hear him.

“I saved what was left over from that train robbery from last winter. The stuff we stole from Billiam's guys.” Dream explained casually, shrugging.

“How much of it was left over?” He vaguely remembered the man remarking about the sheer amount they had stored.

“Enough to blow up this entire building and have leftovers.” Wilbur said, toying with the stick in his hand. How on earth was he so blasé with explosives?

“Go around this side, so I can actually reach the hole.” Dream jerked his head left. The hill quickly dropped a few feet, exposing more of the stone foundation that made up the basements walls, and Dream’s cell. Wilbur felt around until he found a slim dent in the lime mortar.

He notched the dynamite into it, and then pulled out a matchbox, striking the small stick against the stone of the wall. It sparked and burst alight, and Wil gently neared it to the wick of the explosive.

The dynamite lit, and the two ran off for cover. Techno’s chest tightened, as he anxiously awaited for the boom. They ducked behind a wagon laden with sacks of wheat mere seconds before it blew.

The explosion acted as the catalyst, causing screams and yelling and the entire town to erupt into discord. Dream laughed maniacally, climbing up and out of the sheriff’s station right as the owner ran out of the building.

Techno stood up from behind the wagon, and cocked the gun. He looked away from the sheriff’s eyes right before he squeezed the trigger.

By then, all of the other police in the area had found them, readying to shoot. Dream ran to the brothers’ sides, taking cover behind the wagon.

Wilbur shot the first three officers one after another, and then stepped forward. Techno pulled his rifle off his back, handing it to Dream, behind him. He then used the other loaded revolver to kill off an officer who had approached them from behind.

Of course, Wardens began forcing themselves in, swarming out like roaches from nearly every building in town. They were almost definitely waiting for someone to break Dream out.

Dream spared no hesitation shooting them down, and Wilbur matched his energy. In fact, Techno’s brother hopped over the wagon as Techno reloaded his own guns.

Fuck.

Wilbur stormed forwards, and released a steady barrage of bullets, leaving no survivors. Within a minute, ten men fell dead.

Techno picked up the slack, picking off those in more discreet areas. A man on the balcony, whose body stumbled over the banister and onto the street. Another hiding behind a barrel. A Warden through a second floor window.

The fuzzy confusion began taking its hold on Techno’s body. Both dread and fear filled his mind as bullets flew past him like angry wasps. No. No. He had to focus.

He bit his tongue as he followed his brother, the pain and the metallic tang of blood the only thing he focused on. Of course, other than the dozens of people wanting him dead.

Two Wardens rode up on a wagon, Techno shot one, Dream landed the other.

His two partners began making their way through the town. What on earth? They were supposed to head the opposite way.

Techno whistled for Carl and Tallulah.

He ducked behind a crate, wiping the sleeve of his shirt on his glasses to clear the gunpowder and smoke from it. It left a grey streak on his white cotton shirt.

Another officer tried to be clever, peeking out from behind the corner of a building. Techno got him in the neck, spurting blood against the worn wood of the walls.

Night had fallen, everything blanketed in darkness, as nobody would light lamp posts or lights in the middle of a shootout.

Wilbur cleared out most people by far, sparing barely a millisecond between each shot. His aim had drastically improved over the past few months, but that was to be expected. His bloodlust was new.

With his two partners taking up the most of the kills, Techno scanned the areas carefully, searching for hidden police or Wardens.

The horses arrived, and Techno swung himself onto Carl’s saddle. Wilbur kept going. Bullets kept flying.

They could leave. Only a handful of Wardens remained. But his brother remained in his place, shooting them down.

That was it. Techno grabbed onto Dream’s arm as he reloaded, yanking him up and onto the back of Carl.

”Wil, let’s go!” He yelled as loud as he could to be heard over the shots. He stayed.

Tallulah tensed, preparing to jump and flee. Only then did Wilbur snap out of the daze, climbing onto the horse’s back.

“We need to leave!” Techno tried again, and Dream went back to shooting, killing off a Warden on his own horse.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Wilbur relented, and they stormed through the rest of the town and left through the front.

*****

Technoblade had never seen his brother act more like Dream than in those moments. Maybe they should’ve let the bastard swing.

The ride back was quiet. Dream whistled for his own horse on the way out, and it had caught up by the time they were almost down the mountain.

His breathing eventually slowed. His heart kept pounding in his ears, though.

The only noise provided was the gentle midnight breeze and crickets chirping. With adrenaline fading, exhaustion shoved its ugly head into Techno’s mind. His eyelids weighed down.

Damnit, he should’ve brought coffee.

“Technoblade, you’re literally swaying.” Dream pointed out halfway to camp. They were in the middle of a field, and he dug out a small tin from his coat and handed it to Techno. Chewing tobacco.

As dreadful as the taste was, the motion of chewing kept him somewhat alert.

Hours ticked by, and the journey wore on. He made a mental note to never, ever do a job this far away again.

The first streak of red and yellow poked out over the horizon when they reached the camp. It glowed over the water of the lake. Techno immediately made a beeline for the coffee pot Tubbo began brewing.

“How’d it go?” The young cook asked. He was always an early bird, which suited his job, considering how much time he needed to cook and plan out each day.

“Fine. Dream’s back.” Techno answered curtly. Too tired for actual conversation.

Tubbo took the hint. The two remained in each others’ company, as Techno sat on the ground against the table and Tubbo chopped potatoes and carrots for dinner stew. He sparingly took breaks to refill Techno’s mug every so often.

His pink head of hair lobbed back every few seconds, caffeine doing little to quell the sleepiness. He pulled out his flask from his jacket and pulled the cap off, pouring a few swigs into the mug. The burn of whiskey helped the tiniest bit.

Tommy awoke and emerged from his tent, eyes bleary and hair mussed. He sported the same shirt as Techno, except leagues cleaner. A spatter of blood dotted on the latter’s collar, along with mud and dust from gunpowder across the entire thing. His brown pants only sported rusty splats of blood stains.

Niki followed him, combing her fingers through her chin-length pink hair. She yawned.

“Techno, you look almost dead, are you alright?” She asked, pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee before sitting next to him. he didn’t have the heart to be rude to her, no matter how tired and irritable he was. He only nodded.

“Stressful job, but I’m fine.” He said. She raised her eyebrows, unconvinced.

”Didn’t you stay up all night last night, too?” Tommy mentioned, stifling his own yawn. The chopping had finished, and Tubbo moved on to making porridge for breakfast. Techno closed his eyes.

“Shush, he’s sleeping.” Niki whispered. He jerked back awake with a sharp inhale.

“Dammit Tommy.” She muttered. Tubbo slid him a bowl of porridge. How long did he doze off for?

”Why don’t you sleep?” The brunette asked, grabbing a spoon for him.

“’m not tired.” He mumbled, taking a bite of the food. Cinnamon dusted the top. “Thanks for the cinn’mon.” He added.

It was one of the more expensive spices Tubbo kept, but he saved it just for Techno. Along with cheese and potatoes, cinnamon on porridge and oatmeal was one of his favorite things to eat.

“Go to sleep.” Niki urged.

“Later. There’s a lot of work I gotta do.” Not necessarily a lie, but Techno would rather die of sleep deprivation than have one of those night terrors again.

“I’ll wake you up in a couple hours, just go to sleep. Just a nap.” She continued pushing. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he slept for an hour. He never dreamt when he only slept for shorter periods of time, so maybe its the same for nightmares.

Surely just an hour wouldn’t hurt.

“Sav’my porridge for me, Tubbo.” He gave in, sloppily pushing the bowl up above his head. Tubbo took it from him and set it behind him on the table. The cook began to talk, but Techno dozed off before he finished his sentence.

Chapter Text

Not even an hour passed before something stumbled over Techno’s leg, jolting him awake. It clucked. He opened his eyes to find a brown hen staring up at him, almost offended that he was in the way.

“Where’d we get chickens from?” He asked, leaning his head back onto the edge of the table.

Clouds had taken over the entire sky, painting the camp in a hazy grey.

“Phil gave me the okay to set aside some money for hens, since we have some new money. We had plenty to spare, so…” Wil said. Techno leaned his head back further to see his brother on the opposite side of the table, propping himself up by his elbows. A few feet away, Tubbo furiously searched through crates.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to spend any of the El Rapids money for a while.” He questioned. The end of the sentence was cut off by a stifled yawn. Wilbur slid his mug over to him.

“He made an exception.”

“Do you guys happen to have spare potatoes? Techno?” Tubbo asked, pushing himself out of the barrel his head was buried in a moment before. The eldest of the three chuckled at the mention of his name, but shook his head.

“None of us have got any, I don’t think.” He answered back. All it elicited was a drawn out groan from the cook.

Techno only drank his coffee.

“Is everythin’ alright?” Sally asked, walking past with stacks of firewood underneath each arm. “I got the fuel you needed for dinner, Tubs.”

“No. I don’t have nearly enough food for dinner. I thought I could compensate our lack of meat and fish with potatoes, but we’re completely out.” He answered.

The coffee was lukewarm at best, but he needed the energy more than anything else.

“I can go into Kinoko and grab some more.” She offered. “Wil can go with.”

”Would you actually? I’d go myself, but the owner of the store banned me.”

How on earth did he manage that?

“What did you do to get banned?” Wilbur asked, and then to Sally, said, “Also, I promised I would help Dream with something, so I can’t go with,”

His wife sighed, annoyed, but said nothing.

“It’s a long story, but I’m sure Tommy can tell you all about it.” Tubbo answered, jerking his thumb over to the blonde chasing Fundy around.

“Tell you what?” He yelled.

“I guess it doesn’t matter, I’ll go alone.” Sally butt in, smiling tightly.

Considering how often she went off on her own, why was she so uptight about it now? There really was only one way to find out. Techno downed the rest of his coffee, and stood.

Gods, why were his legs so numb? He shook out each one as he spoke.

“I’ll go with you.”

The relief was clear on Sally’s face, the creases in her forehead fading and her shoulders drooping. Of course, Tommy couldn’t keep himself out of literally fucking anything.

“Can I go? Please? Please?” The kid begged, yanking on Techno’s arm. He hissed sharply through his teeth, pulling it out of Tommy’s grasped. Still sensitive from both a few weeks ago and last winter.

“Only if you don’t claw my arm out of its socket.” There was no telling Tommy no.

“What’s a socket?” He asked as the two followed Sally out to the wagon that waited with the rest of the Syndicate’s horses. Niki stood there, brushing Fungi’s hind legs, which were covered in mud. She cursed under her breath in German, frustrated.

“Everything alright?” Techno prompted.

Three horseshoes and a few tools laid in the grass by her feet. Niki knelt down to remove the fourth, picking up the pick and carefully grabbing Fungi’s hind leg to clean out the dirt.

Techno had done the process many times before on Carl, so it was obviously nothing new.

”We went through the mountains, and ruined a perfectly good set that was only two weeks old. Not even that long, I bought them on the sixth.” She rambled, clearly stressed. "And Kinoko charges so much for them, it's absurd."

“D’you want us to pick some up in Kinoko for you? I can cover the cost.” He suggested, meeting her level at her side. She paused for a moment, thinking.

“I’ll go with. I’ve gotta pick some other stuff up anyways.” She said, brushing the dirt off her pants and standing. “Fungi can wait.”

“Wagon’s all ready to go when you are, Tech!” Sally called, bringing Salmon over to the front and connecting them to the neck yoke - the piece of wood that would pull the main body of the wagon - to the horse’s harness, and then, with Nightmare.

“What about Carl?” Techno asked, looking back at the ginger.

“What about him? He’s no good carrying all that weight, not compared to Fungi and Nightmare.” She countered. To be fair, she had a point. Appaloosas and Shires would fare better than a Thoroughbred like Carl. He dealt better with going fast, not carrying weight.

“Fine. But he’ll follow behind. There won’t be enough room for all of us and the supplies.” He finished. She shrugged, but nodded.

“Are you guys goin’ to Kinoko?” Puffy called from across camp, walking out of Kristin’s tent. She tied her curly brown hair up into a ponytail and grabbed her jacket.

This simple trip to town was turning into a whole voyage, with a crew, a captain, and everything. Tommy climbed up onto the back of the wagon, legs flailing as he did so. Now they even had pests.

“Yep,” There was no point in arguing with the Captain. In fact, she probably had already made friends with the shop owner anyways, and Techno could just wait outside. Maybe even take a quick nap while Sally, Puffy, and Tommy shopped.

Soon enough, they were on the road, with Puffy and Techno sitting in front and steering, and the other three sat in the back, singing. Tommy cluelessly followed along, messing up every other word in the song.

Moments like those always reminded Technoblade just how new Tommy was to the Syndicate. Most of the time, it felt like he had always been pestering him, when he wasn’t doing the same to Wilbur.

He had been left with plenty of time to admire the route to town. Techno hated the east, sure, but Kinoko and the surrounding area looked so lovely. Cherry trees, laden with fruit and the lush grass laden with light pink petals of late spring.

The forest faded a bit under a mile away from Kinoko, turning into fields of neat and tidy pasture which were only interrupted by occasional spots of white mushrooms popped out of the ground. The people nearby called them Rangecaps, but in a book Phil lent him, they were formally named agaricus campestris.

Niki stopped singing to point them out to Techno, beaming.

“We should pick those up on the way back, and Tubbo can add them to the stew.” She said, waving her hands excitedly. He began to smile as well. Techno couldn’t help it; her joy was always so contagious. “Maybe the rain will wash off all the bugs too.”

He peered back up at the sky, and the darkening clouds rolling in. Like always, she was right, it was definitely going to rain. Hopefully not thunderstorms.

“Well, maybe we can hurry back before then.” Puffy spoke up, gently easing the horses to a stop on the outskirts of town. Wagons were always such a pain to manage on the cramped streets, and as great as Kinoko was, the gold statue on the main street didn’t help any more.

“I’m gonna stop by the church, yeah?” Tommy yelled, already running off. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins.

Right.

Sinner’s lament, Techno supposed. After all, he was running with a group of murderers. Maybe paying the church of Kinoko would be the best way to get back to heaven.

Not like he would know, he’d been too busy to deal with anything to do with religion for most of his life.

Niki and Puffy went inside the general store, and Techno plopped onto the bench outside. Another woman sat on the opposite side, lighting her cigarette. Sally, however, walked in the opposite direction, up along the street and then in between two buildings.

What was she doing?

Meh, probably just scamming some dumb sod out of his money. He watched out for any police, as both his and Sally’s faces were the ones plastered on Wanted posters. Usually, he’d pull his hat low over his face, but he hadn’t had time to buy a new one after losing his in Logstedshire.

Compared to Skeppy’s and Dream’s fates of losing their horses that day, Techno supposed just one hat was enough of a trade for Carl’s life.

Wilbur’s theory about Dream flashed through his mind.

He was there when they were driven out of Logstedshire, and sure, he got shot in the leg, but with how much time he spent out in the open, it was a miracle he wasn’t killed. Or maybe just an order to keep him alive.

Wardens took him prisoner a few days ago, meanwhile, Phil and Techno were to be shot and killed. Perhaps it’s from their high positions in the Syndicate. But Dream had a higher kill count than any of them, with his bloodlust.

Wouldn’t they want him gone just as much as Technoblade?

No, that was stupid. Techno was just sleep deprived and paranoid. As was Wilbur. But still, the thought plagued his mind the rest of the day. At least, until a scream erupted from down the street - right where Sally had gone. Niki walked out of the store, eyes alert and horseshoes in hand.

“I’ll deal with it,” Techno said, feeling for the knife tucked into his waistband. With the prohibition of weapons, he was forced to be more discreet. Like hell he was just going to sit around defenceless, especially since they still haven’t appointed a new sheriff.

Sally was pushed up against a wall, with a tall man’s hand shoved up against her mouth. For fuck’s sake. He had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and an unkempt beard. Sally’s green eyes darted over to Techno.

“Right, right, calm down and get your hands off her.” He said, pushing himself between the two of them.

“She stole my money!” The man defended, indignant. His voice had a thick, southern lilt to it, one that reminded Techno of Sapnap’s accent.

Sally rolled her eyes, pushing away from the wall. “I didn’t steal anything from you, you just dropped it on the ground and I picked it up.” She explained, pulling out a few coins and handing them over to him.

“Is everything okay over here?” Someone behind them asked. He glanced to see Tommy clumsily climbing off Carl, his rosary swinging up and smacking him in the face. Intimidating.

“Don’t let your life be ruined over a few cents, just go home.” Techno pushed, and only received a huff in response. Where Tommy lacked in scare, he made up for with his presence. No deputy would believe one man over a woman, an appointed deputy, and a harmless, church-going boy.

The blonde began walking away.

And then he stopped, and slowly turned around, eyes narrowed. He tilted his head ever so slightly, gaze intent and focused on Sally and Techno. Shit. They could recognize that look from anywhere.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” He said, focused.

“Yeah, we’ve been around town. Me n’ the kid back there were helpin’ the sheriff before he left.” Techno said. Please, please just have them be lucky and the man drop the topic.

“No, no. I’ve seen you before that. Outside of Kinoko.” He continued.

“Go home,” Techno said, both to the man and to the two Syndicate members that stood behind him. The former’s eyes lit up in recognition. No going back now.

“No, I definitely know you. You two were at that train disaster in Pogtopia last winter, yeah? I’d recognize your faces anywhere.” He began, nodding as if to agree with himself. Techno waved Tommy and Sally away, and they obeyed.

“I think you’ve confused us for someone else.” He said, making it clear that it was his last chance to walk away. He couldn’t just let Sally be arrested and executed because of this, not when she had so many loved ones depending on her.

The blonde took off running in the opposite direction, away from town. Technoblade had no choice but to sprint after him, whistling for Carl.

The one time he had forgotten his ropes and lasso at camp.

He continued chasing, watching as the man dashed away like a terrified rabbit. Fuck the no weapons rule, or else he could’ve simply shot him and paid off the deputies to keep quiet.

Of course, he caught up anyways, tackling the man to the ground. The blonde began pleading, begging to be let go, writhing beneath Techno’s body like prey about to be slaughtered. ”Please, please, I’ll forget I ever saw you, sir. I swear.” He rambled. That wasn’t an option. There was no way Techno was going to let them be uprooted from their home once again because of sympathy. “Please, I got a family. I have a son a bit younger than yours!”

Techno unsheathed the knife. He drove it into the man’s neck, blood spraying everywhere. Across his face, his blue shirt, the grass. Onto Carl’s hooves, behind the two of them. He dug out the knife, and brought it down again. The man began gurgling and twitching, choking on the blood.

And then he went still. Techno let out a breath. He turned around, and only then, saw Tommy sat on top of Carl, clutching the reins, and eyes wide. His own face had the witness’s blood spattered across it.

Chapter Text

Tommy did not say a word the entire way back. Not just to Techno, but to anyone. The image of his face, stricken with blood, completely terrified, was all he could think about. It nearly made him sick.

Techno clung to Niki like a lost child, keeping his mind busy with chatting about useless nothings. Tommy switched spots with him, sitting up front with puffy while the first two sat on the edge of the wagon, feet dangling. Sally took Carl.

Rain pattered against the canvas cover of the wagon, keeping the two of them and the supplies safe from the wet. Niki had turned foraging into a bit of a game, hopping off and dashing to fetch the mushrooms in time to jump back on, with Techno’s help in pulling her up.

But Tommy remained in the back of his mind.

“Are you okay?” She asked, voice low. He nodded, going silent. “Okay. Are you sure? You seem a lot… messier than you were this morning.”

He could deal with it himself. Techno nodded once more.

“So what’d you buy?” He spoke up, swiftly brushing off the topic. Now it was her turn to go quiet, turning around to glance at her new possessions.

“Not much. Just some horseshoes and flower seeds.” Niki said, avoiding his gaze. “Jack’s birthday is coming up, and I wanted to get something nice to leave him.”

Oh. Right. Worrying about his own problems all the time was turning into quite a selfish habit. Niki had practically lost her brother. The thought of Wilbur being killed made Techno’s heart pound, he could only imagine how hard it had been for her.

Not that he was any help.

“I bet he would’ve liked that.” He said, carefully trying to string the right words together. She smiled.

“I made sure to get his favorites. Forget-me-nots.” Niki fetched the paper packet of seeds, the cover painted with the delicate blue flowers. “I’ve never really grown a plant before, so I’m hoping I don’t kill them.”

They both let out half-hearted chuckles.

“Phil might have a book about plant care. I’ll check for you if you want.” Techno offered. He vaguely remembered his father reading one over last summer, and although he rarely kept the books he read, there was no harm in trying.

“Thank you.”

*****

As soon as they returned to the camp, Techno made a beeline for the tub of water behind Tubbo’s kitchen. He scrubbed his face raw, and then his hands, and under his nails. He then returned to his own tent, and changed into the only red shirt he had left.

Then, he moved onto the task he had promised Niki. Phil was at the lake, but he never minded when Techno or Wilbur checked through his books. After all, the man had taught them how to read. He probably saw it as a sign that he did a good job with his teaching or something. He hurried through the rain to Phil’s tent, hoping he wouldn’t track too much water on the ground.

Not that it mattered.

This time, his tent was slightly… off. His bed was messy and unmade, and books scattered the table. Dirt tracked the wooden floor. Papers and notes piled his bed. This was going to be a bit harder than anticipated.

Technoblade gently sorted through the books, sifting through papers and maps, and checking the leather trunk he stored the ones he actually kept. No dice. However, he did grab the Art of War back once more. He never got to finish it.

On the way out, something glinted in his eye. A pocketwatch hung from a hook on the wardrobe. When did Phil get a new watch? Its uniqueness struck a hint of recognition in him. The numbers of the face were painted red. Had he seen that somewhere before?

Eh, whatever. It was just a watch.

He returned it to its spot on the hook, and left. Niki didn’t seem all that bothered by the lack of manuals on gardening, as Tubbo had flocked to her side, rambling his plentiful advice for flower care. He had a strong and intense obsession for bees, which leaked into flowers.

In Pogtopia, he owned a small planter box filled to the brim with the kinds that would attract the most bees. Phil promised him that, once we get a permanent place to live, they’d buy an official honey farm.

Instead, he returned to his tent, and sprawled out onto his bed, pulling out Art of War and opening it back up to read. Ranboo walked past, tentatively waving at him. Techno returned the gesture.

Of everything else good about Phil, one of Technoblade’s favorite things about him was that he never failed with his recommendations. It’s almost like he had sculpted Techno into the person he was - teaching him about astronomy, literature, foraging, history… the list goes on. Greek mythology was the only thing Techno had learned all by himself. Everything else had been built up by Phil.

Ranboo passed once more, this time slower.He was acting like a miserable, wet cat caught in the rain.

The Art of War was no exception, feeding him information with brevity and directly, sparing the metaphors and need for analysis. Although he loved lyricism and prose and deep metaphors in fictional literature, for nonfiction, it became a tiring task. Techno much preferred the method of almost having a teacher there, giving him all the information they know.

Ranboo finally gave up with the beating around the bush antics, and poked their head inside, leaning past the canvas curtains, which were halfway drawn.

”Hi,” They said.

“Hello,”

“What are you reading?”

“Art of War, Phil lent it to me.” He answered, sitting up. Ranboo oftentimes reminded him of a skittish cat, needing to be coaxed into anything intimidating. “If you want, I can ask him if I can hand it over to you once I’m done,”

They began shaking their head, backing away.

“No, no. I don’t think that would- I can’t.” They ran a hand through their dampened hair, pushing the inky strands out of his face.

Oh.

“D’you mean like, you don’t like it, or…?” He trailed off, realizing with the bright red burn across his cheeks. Ranboo finished the sentence.

“No. I just. Yeah.”

The entirety of the two years Ranboo had spent with the Syndicate went through in Techno’s mind. As much as the kid loved theater and plays, and even a circus event they relentlessly begged him to go with, since he couldn’t afford the tickets.

They talked about the meaning and the depth of characters in his favorite musicals and plays, including “The Importance of Being Earnest” and “The Fortune Teller”. Wilbur quite liked the former.

But despite how much Ran loved it, Techno never noticed him reading books. He figured it was a matter of preference, as acting could provide another layer to art and writing that words on paper couldn’t deliver.

“If you want, I can teach you.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, Phil did the same for me at around your age.” Techno fully closed the book, setting it down on his nightstand.

”I didn’t know that.” Their posture immediately loosened.

“Well if you want to, the offer is always there,”

Ranboo hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"I think I'd like that," they said quietly. Techno smiled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him.

Sally walked up behind them, placing a gentle hand on their elbow.

“Sorry, but have either of you seen Fundy? I can’t find him anywhere,” She asked, biting her nail.

”I haven’t seen him all day. Tommy might know,” Techno suggested. The two often played together, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if Fundy had found an especially good hiding place for hide and seek.

But for some reason, the warmth that encompassed him just a moment ago had long faded, replaced by dread. The last time he had felt this anxious was right before going with Phil and Dream to parley with Billiam.

What if something had happened? Meeting Sally’s eyes once more, he wasn’t alone in this.

“I’ll look with you,”

Techno thought back on the times he had played with the kid, and looked in every single place Fundy would go. Hiding inside a crate. Empty. Stacking all the hay bales on top of his little body. All he found were the disgruntled look of hungry horses.

Tommy began to look as well, on the opposite side of the camp.

“Fundy? C’mere kid!” The eldest called into the grove. No answer, no clumsy giggles of a mischevious son. “You’re scarin’ your mom half to death!”

Nothing.

After briefly fetching a lamp from his tent, he returned to the woods, startling Beau - assigned as the lookout for the afternoon- more than once. Soon enough, she joined him.

The sun, peeking through the gaps of the evening rainstorm, began to set. Fundy was nowhere to be found. By now, Phil had taken notice of the Syndicate-wide panic for the child.

“Has anyone seen him?” He asked, commanding the attention of every single member.

A beat of silence.

“I think I have,” Dream said, stepping forwards. For fuck’s sake, why did everything have to revolve around him? “I saw a woman carrying him, and I thought it was Sally, but now I’m not so sure?”

Sally, next to Techno, darted forward, the latter having to grab her arms before she lunged at the cowboy.

“Beating the shit out of him won’t do anything, Sal, calm down.” As cathartic as the sight would've been, there was no use in letting her.

Phil kept talking to Dream as Techno pulled the mother away.

“I’m going to kill him, I swear, he’s gonna fucking die,” She muttered. He grabbed her shoulders darting to the side every time she attempted to step around him.

“That’s it, we’re going,” Phil announced, waving Dream away. “Techno, Sally, go get Wilbur and whoever else you can.”

”Where are we going?” She asked, wrenching herself away from her brother-in-law’s hands.

“The Jacobs estate. We’re going to find your son and kill anyone who even thought about hurting him.”

Wilbur immediately woke up, scrambling for his boots as he made his way over to Tallulah. Beau followed them, along with Skeppy and Aimsey. Puffy joined. And then Niki and Tommy.

”You’re not going.” Techno interrupted the blonde, standing in front of him like he did only seconds ago for Sally. He avoided eye contact, clearly still upset.

“Yes I am,” He said curtly, darting around. Why couldn’t he just listen this once? Technoblade grabbed his arm as Tommy walked away, the latter flinching hard and yanking his wrist away.

Gods, he felt sick at the sight.

“Tommy, stay here. In case Fundy makes his way back, okay?” Wilbur said, lifting his face to look at his.

Techno walked off.

After grabbing a few guns from his room - he wasn’t going to be caught dead with just two like last time - he headed up to Carl.

It took mere minutes to arrive at the front gates of the Jacobs estate, almost exactly the same as it had the last time he had been there. He glanced in Niki’s direction.

This was because of them, wasn’t it?

Of course it was. Gods, he should’ve told Phil to do something. He should’ve figured it out himself. A kid could be dead because of his own carelessness.

“You folks aren’t welcome ‘round here.” The guard at the gates said. Sally raised a gun to his forehead, and miraculously, the other guards made an exception at the sight of their colleague’s corpse.

The rest of the workers took their hint and made their way out of the property. Techno tied his soaked hair up into a bun, preparing for the mess they were about to make.

Phil and Sally led the group, Technoblade and Wilbur right on their heels, and everyone else behind them. The leader of the Syndicate kicked the door open, shotgun in hand, scanning the foyer. Maybe Karl was right in taking his lover and running.

The pure extravagance of the manor only made it more infuriating. A glowstone chandelier hung from the cieling, the stone shinging against the violet and royal blue glass prisms made shadows dance along the walls, covered in deep blue wallpaper only interrupted by pure white columns.

The staircase at the back of the room was made out of the very same quartz, with a dark mahogany banister. A tall woman stood at the top, auburn hair streaked with white. She wore a detailed violet dress, the same shade of purple as Karl’s coat. Did the Jacobs have some sort of dress code?

“Where the fuck is he?” Phil yelled up at her, raising his gun. She smiled.

“I do not know who you think you’re talking about, but the only ones here are my family and my staff.” She insisted calmly.

Bullshit. Phil knew it too.

He began ascending the stairs, Puffy right behind him. She grabbed the woman by her arms, tying them together.

“You get to watch us look for him then,” She said into her ear.

“He’s not here.” She said.

So she did know who they were talking about.

Niki handed Techno a torch, and the two of them headed off to the first floor. The foyer split off into what seemed like a maze of rooms. A study like Awesamdude’s to the left, empty, a dining room to the right. Also empty.

Sally met them at the foot of the staircase. The entire first floor had been ransacked, and there wasn’t a single child in sight, much less Fundy.

“He’s not anywhere on the second floor. Phil’s checking the attic.” Wilbur called from the top, as he walked down. Great. Where on earth did these rich assholes even hide him?

Did they kill him?

No. They wouldn’t.

Techno’s brother took the torch from him, leading the other three down to the basement stairs in the back kitchen. Like everywhere else, the cellar had nothing useful.

As they regrouped in the kitchen, Techno's mind raced with possibilities. Where could Fundy be? Had he been taken somewhere else? Had he managed to escape on his own? The uncertainty was overwhelming, and he couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time. They needed to find the kid, and fast.

“Where’s that damned woman? She knows way more than she’s letting on.” Niki said. Sally nodded in agreement, already walking out.

Phil had beaten them to the punch, grabbing the matriarch of the Jacobs household by the ropes that bound her wrists.

”This is your last chance, mate.” He threatened, pushing her closer to Sally, who raised the barrel of her revolver to her forehead. Mrs. Jacobs remained calm even as she cocked the gun.

“Fuck this,” Wilbur muttered, looking arond the room. At the sight of a window, adorned with dark velvet curtains, he tossed the torch right onto it. Flames licked the bottoms of them, steadily rising up the fabric and onto the walls.

He turned back to the kidnapper of his child, smiling sadistically.

“So help me God, I will leave you here to burn if you don’t tell us. Where is my son?!”

Karl’s mother glanced between the fire - which now reached the cieling, smoke clogging Techno’s lungs - and Wilbur. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she began to panic. Finally.

“I don’t know. My husband took him when he saw you coming.” She admitted, her resovled demeanor and voice long gone.

“Where?” Sally pushed, shoving the barrel further. Mrs. Jacobs stumbled back, ever so slightly.

“All he said was to meet him in Las Nevadas. That’s all I know!” She gave in, raising her hands in defeat.

She pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing throughout the huge room, the only noise to interrupt the crackling of the fire. Her body thudded against the floor.

“Damnit, Sal, we needed her alive!” Wilbur yelled, running a hand through his hair.

“She wasn’t gonna talk, what’s the point?” She retorted, frustrated.

They could’ve used her as bait to coax her husband out, Techno thought. There was no use in voicing that idea, however, the opportunity long dead.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done.” Aismey butt in, rushing down the stairs. Beau followed close behind, holding a silk pillowcase full of jewelry and gold. A string of pearls fell to the ground as the two lept over the banister to avoid the fire crawling up from the bottom.

On the bright side, the money would definitely help fund the search.

Phil coughed, holdoing a gloved hand to his mouth. Smoke had begun filling the room.

The wooden beams of the building creaked, a portion of the cieling falling in to the group’s left.

“We’ve gotta get out, Phil.” Techno said, ushering everyone out.

The front door was already alight, so they went back to the kitchen, running through the back door. Techno and Niki waited at the back, the latter stopping to a halt as her eyes widened.

“Where’s Puffy?” She asked, head poking out to check if she was with the rest of the group. Shit.

“I’ll get her. Just make sure everyone else gets out before police get here.” He answered, turning back.

Wilbur’s new love for destruction was going to damn the entire Syndicate.

The fire had spread throughout the entirety of the ground floor, Techno stepping over the flames to search for the ex-captain. Heat burned at his legs.

“Puffy?” He called out, nearly choking on the air.

No answer. The foyer was in shambles, but all the burning had exposed a second staircase on the opposite side of where Wilbur had started this whole debacle.

The second floor was even harder to navigate than the first. Patches of the floor caved in, letting black plumes of smoke pool through. Techno fumbled for the bandana in the pocket of his pants, tying it around the bottom of his face.

“Techno?” Puffy yelled down the hall. He ran to meet her, nearly going down with the ornate blue rug and wooden flooring in the center of the hallway. How on earth were they going to get out?

“I had no idea where you all were, and then I heard shooting, and fire…” She rambled, clearly panicking. She stood in the doorway of one of the bedrooms, holding a rope.

“What’s that?” Techno asked, searching for a way to get out.

“I found it in the wardrobe. Along with this.” She held up her other hand, and a stuffed fox. One of its eyes was missing.

Now it was his turn to panic.

Puffy grabbed his wrist, and led him to the bedroom window, right above the nightstand. She knocked the lit candles, jewelry box, and box onto the bed, which promptly caught fire, and kicked the window. The glass shattered, making a hole big enough for them to crawl out of.

“C’mon, Tech,” She said, shimmying her way out of the window, or lack thereof, and then helped him do the same. It was a much tighter fit the second way around.

His heart dropped at the sight of how high up they were. Of all things, a fear of hights usually didn’t interfere with jobs. Of course this time had to be different. Techno and Puffy pushed their backs up against the light blue walls.

Smoke billowed out of the open first floor windows.

They shuffled along the black gables, until they reached the master balcony. Like with the window, Puffy went first, easing herself onto the railing, knuckles white, and slowly, slowly, slowly lowering herself onto rim of the white porch railing below her. Techno did the same, as she whistled for their horses.

When he reached the ground, he backed up to take one last look at the place, engulfed in flames. Then, he rode off with Puffy, still coughing from the soot and smoke.

Chapter Text

Fundy’s stuffed fox made its new home in Sally’s bed. At least, it would’ve, if it weren’t for the two Wardens standing in the middle of the Syndicate’s camp, each one holding a gun to a different person’s head. Tommy and Kristin, their hands being held by Punz and Antfrost respectively.

Every remaining member stood to attention, silent and guarded. Dream held up his own shotgun, pointing it at Antfrost.

“Gentlemen,” Philza greeted, putting up a chilly resolve.

“Philza Minecraft.” Punz responded, lowering his revolver and crossing the camp to meet Phil.

The group had barely made it off of their horses. Were they not allowed to have a single break? Techno met Phil’s side, eyeing Punz carefully.

“We’ve come in peace,” The for now at the end of the sentence didn’t need to be said, everyone clearly felt it. Phil’s jaw set.

“But I’m going to give you and your partner,” Punz’s finger wagged between Techno and his father. “one final warning. If you don’t turn yourselves in, we will return hered, and kill every single person standing nearby. No matter how old they are.”

His chin jerked over to the fox in Sally’s hands.

“If that’s all you’re gonna say, you can leave now, pricks.” Tommy yelled. Antfrost shot him a glare.

“I’m not abandoning my people, agent.” Phil insisted, expressionless.

He laughed to himself, shaking his head. Punz then turned to his partner, and beckoned for the two of them to leave.

“I figured you’d say that. Their blood is on your hands, now.”

Technoblade wasn’t going to get sleep at all tonight, was he? Not that he would’ve if given the chance. The idea of having another nightmare made him shudder.

“Should I head out to find somewhere for us to go?” He turned to Phil, grabbing him by the elbow. The blonde nodded.

“Take Skeppy with you, I don’t want you going alone with all this. Make sure it’s closer to Nevadas, yeah?” He added the last part in a mutter, ensuring others wouldn’t hear. Of course, he’d have to come up with his little speech for the half of the Syndicate that stayed.

No matter how much decorum Philza added, the main message was harrowing. The youngest member of the Syndicate, a six year old child, had been taken without anyone noticing.

What if Fundy was killed?

What was keeping any of the rest of them from being killed?

“Oh my god, Techno, your legs!” Skeppy exclaimed, eyes widening at the sight. Techno looked down to see that his pants had been burnt in smoky patches, the skin underneath raw and covered in bumps.

The pain began taking its toll on him. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier?

Skeppy led him to a seat at the rounded table, while Kristin fetched bandages and dressings with shaking hands. She wet two long cloths in the tub of clean water before approaching him.

The burns hurt like a bitch. Maybe walking through fire wasn’t a good idea, even if he did have boots on.

Around the three of them, the Syndicate bustled about, packing up their things yet again. Summer hadn’t even ended, with the entirety of August still left.

They had only gotten to stay for a couple months.

Sharp stinging shot up his legs, making Technoblade hiss from the agony. Skeppy attempted to comfort him as much as he could. He even let him squeeze his hand like a mother givinng birth, and cracked a joke about it.

The process wasn’t nearly as lengthy as stitches, thank the gods. Instead, she dabbed a rag onto the wounds, and then applied some sort of salve. It smelled of honey, and took on a sickly green shade, bits of yellow poking through.

“This’ll help with the pain a little bit, Tech.” Kristin said, wrapping his legs in the cool, wet bandages. The nighttime breeze had chilled them even further. The relief of the sensation nearly brought him to tears. “I’d give you actual medicine, but I was supposed to stock up on that tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

She continued her work.

“So what’s the plan?” Skeppy asked, seating himself on the tabletop. Puffy gave him a disapproving look, but he didn’t move. “Where are we headed?”

”No idea. This is supposed to be Niki’s job.” He admitted in between breaths. When had scouting suddenly fallen on his own shoulders?

“I’m pretty sure there’s a place on the outskirts of the desert we could go to. A manor.” Kristin piped up again, tightening the bandages around Techno’s legs.

“That’s a bit far from Las Nevadas though, isn’t it?” He asked.

“No, only about an hour’s ride. Maybe two?” She thought aloud. “I remember staying there with Puffy and a few old friends before the war.”

“Can show us where it is once your done?” Skeppy already began pulling out his map as she hurried off to wash her hands.

”No point, I’ll just go with. Most of my stuff is boxed up anyways.” She called back from the wash basin. Tubbo darted around her, sighing and grumbling about wasted meat and food.

Phil, hurriedly cleaning up his own tent, scowled, but he said nothing.

*****

“So we’ll go down southeast,” She said, climbing up onto Persephone’s back. Skeppy handed her the map, and then both him and Techno followed her out through the cherry grove. “We’ll probably have to take a few detours to avoid being seen, but we should get there by dawn,”

Did they even have that long? Techno’s eyes widened at the thought of being gone for hours. The idea of returning to a barren battlefield full of his family’s corpses, reeking of gunpowder, made his heart race.

“Tech, that’s only a few hours. It’s almost two in the morning.” Skeppy said, glancing down at his pocketwatch.

His sleep schedule was past saving at this point. He pulled out his tin of tobacco gum and grimaced at the taste.

“So how’d you get to know about this place?” He asked his mother. She frowned.

“We had a deal running with the Halos. They weren’t as… eccentric as they are now.” She explained.

His mind flashed back to what Karl Jacobs said about them. At the time, he figured it was just because of the whole rivalry they had with his own family, and their little forbidden romance, but perhaps it held more weight than Techno guessed it did.

“What d’you mean, eccentric?”

Skeppy cocked his heaed at the question, snorting.

“Have you seen them? That old sheriff’s father was at least seven feet tall. And they never leave their huge mansion.” He added.

“The shopkeeper from Kinoko’s apothecary had heard worse things about them. Him in particular.” Kristin mentioned, a yawn cutting the sentences in half. Bags weighed deep under her eyes, and her usual neat appearance was now frayed and wild.

There was a small cut above her cheekbone. Had either of those agents hurt her?

”What kind of things?” Skeppy returned, before Techno could ask about the cut. She sighed, shrugging.

“Cults, cannibalism, children born out of wedlock… the same kind of stuff they say about every family like that.”

“Maybe it's actually true,” He joked back. Techno snorted.

“You're starting to sound just like Wilbur,” The second the words came out of his mouth, he regretted it. A mixture of guilt and an overall sense of “oh shit” swam over him.

Skeppy, however, found it hilarious. Kristin didn't seem amused.

“What do you mean?” Her brows furrowed together. She looked back down at the map.

“He's just all paranoid. Don't worry about it,”

They dropped the topic, but both remained in their worried state. Skeppy only pulled out a bundle of cornbread and practically inhaled the entire slice.

The group went quiet. Techno took it as an excuse to inspect the land around him. By now, the wild cherry grove the Syndicate resided in over the summer was a mere pink spot in the horizon, and was replaced by a dry grassland. Crickets chirped.

He hated travelling through these kinds of places, especially at night. Carl was a great horse. The two of them had become practically best friends over the past decade and change. It was a miracle he had lasted so long anyways. Despite how great he was, his only fault was his very irrational fear of snakes.

Grasslands like these, no matter how tranquil the noise and sensation of wind rushing through the foot tall blades of grass may be, were loaded with them. The only illumination was the lantern in Skeppy’s hand.

Soon, the grass faded, and then it was replaced with sand. The sky faded to a light blue, the barest illumination of gold beginning its steady climb onto the rest of the sky.

Techno yawned.

He missed the days where he could doze off lazily against a tree in Pogtopia.

He missed the cool breeze that would rush into the cave they had turned into a camp.

The three began their steady descent up the mountains. His mother had made an excellent choice in finding refuge - the mansion was already such a pain to get to. The only thing that interrupted the dry, rocky floor was the occasional juniper tree or shrub. And cacti. Plenty of cacti.

“We’re almost there.” Kristin announced, pointing at the manor in the distance. She frowned.

What looked like tiny ants swarmed the place. Techno dropped Carl’s reins in one hand, and pushed the bridge of his glasses up with his finger.

“Shit.” Skeppy muttered.

“At least they aren’t Billiam’s men,” She replied. True.

“I did not prepare for driving out an entire gang, though,” Techno said, checking his belt, which stored the bullets for his revolvers. Half empty.

His Winchester rifle was full, but with his eyesight, the revolvers suited him best. Not much he could do about that right now, however, except for shooting blindly with gunpowder-smudged glasses and praying to the gods that he didn’t shoot Kristin or Skeppy.

“We’ll cover for you, it’s fine.” She said, easing his worries. If it weren’t for her love of medicine, she probably would have gone to all the jobs. Kristin was the one to teach him to shoot anyways.

The mansion was perched on a steep cliffside, so the three stashed their horses in a nook between two peaks. Carl began picking a yarrow plant to eat. Persephone merely grazed.

“There only seems to be a couple dozen or so, and they aren’t very well armed.” Skeppy explained, watching the people from the scope of his spyglass. “I’m pretty sure they’re just raiders.”

Techno envied him for the tool; they were hard to come by, despite their incredible utility in situations like these. He had however, “borrowed” it a few times for noting the constellations on the slow watch guard nights.

“Hopefully they’ll scare off easily then.” Kristin said, loading her own rifle.

“Tech, do you want to take the Sharps and cover from afar or just shoot by the hip?” Skeppy asked, ready to hand the gun off to him. He accepted it, ignoring the irony of his poor eyesight being matched with this kind of task. Besides, it was objects closer to him that were difficult to make out anyways.

Reading glasses helped, but during these circumstances, they often smudged.

”I’ll shoot first, and then you two go in. Make sure the entire place is empty, and the rest will probably just scatter off.” He directed, already making his way up to a good vantage point nearby. They nodded.

Once he was settled between a very pungent bush, which swarmed his senses with an earthy scent, and a short, rounded pine tree, he carefully surveyed the area one last time. His heart began to race at the haunting familiarity of his situation.

No-one could get him, right?

No. Now wasn’t the time for useless panicking, not when the Syndicate needed caring for and two of his partners were waiting on him.

As the sun rose and morning began, more people steadily trodded out of the manor and to the open area in front of the house, where a couple dull campfires prepared coffee and food. Techno’s stomach grumbled at the sight.

None of them were prepared for an ambush in the slightest, many of them only donning long underwear or simple shirts and pants. No weapons, no holsters, not even anything to store bullets. The only exceptions were the few nightguards, already turning in for sleep.

They were the first to go. Technoblade aimed the scope right above the nape of the neck of the first night guard, the one closest to Kristin and Skeppy’s dark haired heads.

He tightened his grip on the gun, let out a breath, and squeezed the trigger.

The instant the raider fell dead, everyone began scrambling around like chickens with their heads chopped off. Skeppy and Kristin marched steadily through the front area, ducking behind someone’s horse and its hay bale, moving forward to a weathered wheelbarrow, and then propping their backs up against the half-crumbled stone fountain in the center of the area.

And step for step, Techno matched their movements, taking out the stragglers they left behind and the folks poking out over balcony banisters or shattered window panes. A man in a red shirt with a shotgun. A blonde woman in a dusty white nightgown.

With every addition to his death count, the disconnect between himself and his body grew once more. Everything else faded away - the smell of the bush, the prickling of rocks against his legs, the sounds of gunshots. Haziness crept over him.

He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would bring him back to the present. It worked somewhat, but things quickly returned to the way it was. Technoblade bit down harder. Blood filled his mouth.

A man with overgrown, wild black hair. A younger one, face still round from childhood, bearing two revolvers. A blonde man in an orange plaid shirt. A woman in all black.

His thoughts began to fog. Someone was on the balcony. Would Skeppy or Kristin go up there? He shot at them anyways.
What was he doing?

Nothing felt real. Nothing feels real.

He has to help his family.

Nothing happened.

Skeppy could be hurt without his help.

His hands didn’t move. They shake a lot.

“Techno?” Someone asked.

A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder.

“Hm?” Everything crashed back onto him like a sudden, whipping gust of wind. A lizard pattered past Skeppy’s boots. A small chunk of the fountain cracked onto the ground. His glasses were sliding off his nose.

The whiplash of the onslaught was almost as jarring as the blood that dripped down his mouth when he opened his mouth to speak. Skeppy’s eyes widened.

“You alright? Let’s get you some water.”

Gods, that bush smelled.

“Yeah.” He wiped the red liquid off his chin, staining the cuff of his blue denim jacket.

“We should probably go help Kristin clear out all those dead bodies.” The blue-haired cowboy added, offering up his hand to help Techno up from his place on the ground.

*****

As the welcomed break from all the stress that surrounded the Syndicate’s necessary care closed to an end, Technoblade sighed. They had moved into the mansion that afternoon, and he now found himself buried in the dining room that had been commandeered into a planning room.

“We need to find him as soon as possible,” Wilbur said, gesticulating aggressively. Sally nodded in agreement.

On the bright side, seeing the two of them on the same page of literally anything was a refreshing change.

“I’m not saying that we shouldn’t look, but we have bigger priorities right now.” Phil argued back.

”In what fucking world is money more important than your grandson?” Sally yelled. She had a point.

“In the world that the entire gang is going to starve soon, maybe?”

Techno shot a glance at Puffy. She seemed just as exhausted as he felt.

“The Wardens are breathing down are goddamned backs, trying to rob one of Quackity’s casinos is only going to tell them where we are and make us another enemy. No matter how careful we are.” Kristin spoke up.

“For Christ’s sake, do not make this about our own issues,” He barked.

“Wait, what issues?” Wilbur asked, brows furrowing.

“Nothing,” Both of them replied to him, annoyed.

The all too familiar sentiment of envy returned to Techno at the sight of his brother once again being completely out of the loop.

“We have enough money to hold out for a few weeks. There are some costs we can cut down.” Wil added, sitting down in between his elder brother and wife.

“Like what? We’ve already cut down on as much as we can muster.” Phil asked. Puffy scoffed.

“Was that before or after you bought that new watch?” She quipped.

“Okay, okay, we’re gettin’ off topic,” Techno butt in, standing and stepping in front of Phil before he did something brash. “Wil, what can we cut out of the budget?”

“Meat, considering we have people who can hunt. Milk for coffee. Alcohol, firewood. We could barter for gunpowder and bullets with eggs or medical supplies.” He listed off each item with his fingers.

Phil remained silent.

“So what do we do about Fundy, then?” Puffy asked.

“Surely someone in town knows something. Las Nevadas isn’t too far away from Kinoko for the cityfolk to be unaware of the Jacobs.” Kristin suggested.

“Yeah, but how do we figure that out without telling all the police swarming the city that the Syndicate’s in town?” Sally questioned.

”Tech, are you still in contact with the old Kinoko sheriff? He and the Jacobs boy might know something.” His mother asked, turning to him.

Great, dealing with Sapnap Halo and Karl Jacobs even more.

“I could find them if I needed to. That would take a few days, do we have that time?”

“Days? Why?” Puffy asked, confused.

“They’re all the way in Pogtopia, and I’m guessin’ the security might be an issue.” He explained. The city would be days worth of riding from here, and a letter wasn’t exactly efficient.

Tommy knocked on the door, leaning inside the dining room tentatively. He held the paper in his hand. His gaze did not stray from Wilbur’s own. Techno wondered if it was becuase of his own presence.

“Newspaper.” He tossed the paper over to the brunette, who swiftly scanned the pages. His eyes lit up near the end.

“They just finished working on the train station over there. You’d be back within the day, if you’re quick.” Wil said triumphantly.

“Good. And I’m betting the police are more lax now, considering how long it’s been since the whole robbery thing,” Kristin interjected. Wonderful.

He doubted the words, but said nothing to contradict her.

“I’ll get my stuff together then.”

Finally, Phil spoke up.

”You can take Tommy, he has nothing important to do anyways.” Tommy’s face fell at this, but he quickly covered it up with an indifferent shrug. Wilbur smiled.

This trip was shaping up to be spectacular.

Chapter Text

Tommy was silent the entire ride to the Las Nevadas train station.

Technoblade didn’t mind, really, he had enough things to occupy his mind.

He didn’t need thoughts about Tommy overshadowing everything else. Not that they did.

The both of them turned out to be way underdressed for the train station, located in the upscale part of the city. Everyone there was dressed in dark wool suits or lavish, flowing skirts and parasols. Compared to Techno’s red shirt and blood-stained denim jacket, and Tommy’s blue button-down and dirty brown trousers, the two of them looked like beggars.

With their current circumstances, it wasn’t far off.

Despite the police officer standing outside the door, getting in was relatively easy. Everyone was leaving or returning from their summer trips in far off places all around the country, so the station was plenty crowded. Right before entering, Techno handed Tommy a clip of cash to pay for the tickets.

“I don’t wanna risk the clerk recognizin’ me.” he explained, but Tommy understood plenty. After all, he had seen the consequences of that. He silently took the money and approached the clerk, cutting in front of a tall man in a dapper suit with a notable mustache. The man eyed the blonde suspiciously, but said nothing.

“Two tickets for Pogtopia, please.” Tommy asked. Techno kept himself busy with avoiding anyone’s attention. Especially the police officers standing outside the front doors.

“That’ll be forty dollars,” The clerk asked, and counted the bills handed to him. Then, he smiled, and handed over the tickets. “Next train comes in at eight.”

Technoblade looked at the clock built into the wall above the entrance. They had a little under an hour to kill.

The two of them shuffled through the people until they were out back where the rails were. The wooden flooring seemed recently painted, as new as the polished railing keeping people from jumping onnto the tracks. A row of benches sat against the walll, most of them taken by awaiting customers.

They took a seat at the farthest one from the doors, to the right.

Tommy grabbed a chunk of dried venison out of a paper bag, and began slowly eating it on the opposite side of the bench. Could he really not even handle sitting near him?

Whatever.

Instead opting for a nap, Techno leaned against the bench, crossing his legs, and using his navy blue neckerchief to cover his eyes. It did little to block the sunlight.

Either way, he slept. The rest was greatly appreciated. Sleeping for short periods of time seemed to be the perfect workaround for the night terrors. What wasn’t greatly appreciated, however, was being startled awake by the train’s whistle.

Considering how expensive the tickets were, the trains did well on giving value to them. Each passenger - or pair, like the two of them - had their own, small cabin, with two benches on opposite sides and a collapsable table in between.

The walls had mahogany paneling, matching both the booths and the table, although the former had been upholstered with dark red leather. A lamp hung from the center of the cieling, swinging slightly as the train took off once more. Techno guessed the wooden shelves above the benches were for luggage.

Not like they had much luggage anyways, only packed food in Tommy’s bag and Techno’s weapons.

“Fancy,” He remarked. Tommy said nothing, merely sat across from him and stared at the moving buildings from the window. His breath fogged up against the glass.

Although it had only felt like a day for Techno since Tommy had decided to begin his cold shoulder antics, it had been multiple since the whole thing happened. The fact he had kept it up so long was intriguing at the least, and in moments like these, infuriating.

Why was he even angry?

Tommy knew what that man was saying, what would have happened if he let him go. Even if it was wrong - which it wasn’t - Tommy knew what he had signed up for when he decided to stay with the Syndicate. Phil made a point to explain it to him.

It was the Syndicate, for gods’ sakes. None of them were good people. They weren’t trying to be. Technoblade was just trying to keep his family alive.

“Why aren’t you speakin’?” He blurted out. His cheeks and ears burned from the action, stomach doing flips and turns.

The last time he had gotten into an argument was when he was around Tommy’s age, and Phil made sure to properly deal with it. That spark of belligerence had been briskly stomped out of him.

Tommy didn’t seem as surprised, instead guarded and apathetic.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” He quipped.

He had provided Techno with a way out, a way to ease the nausea rising up his throat and the panic building in his chest. And of course, he pushed it down.

“I’m serious. Why are you mad at me?” The words sounded like a disgruntled child on the verge of tears. Like Wilbur during his first years with the gang. Technoblade hated it. So did Tommy, who broke his vow of skirting around eye contact with an icyglare.

“You know why.”

Not entirely a lie. But there was no going back now.

”No, I don’t.”

Tommy scoffed.

“Fuckin’ sucks you can’t figure it out. The police probably could.” The blonde remarked, crossing his arms. As much as the comment made Techno’s anxieties spike, the confirmation was better than silence.

“I did that to keep us safe. To keep you safe.” Technoblade argued back. Tommy had none of it.

“Really? You-” He paused for a split second, eyes darting around to ensure no-one had magically appeared and begun to listen. His voice lowered as he continued, venom remaining, “You killed someone. He was begging for his life. He wouldn’t have done anything!”

“I’d do it again. I can’t- The Syndicate can’t risk it in those kinds of situations. We’re not tryin’ to play heroes, Tommy, we’re tryin’ to keep living.”

”Tell that to the man’s wife. And to his son.”

That was it. Techno stood - ignoring the way Tommy shrunk into himself at the action, and stormed out. The guilt had become too much. Everything was too tight, his clothes, the corridor between the rows of cabins, his chest.

Upscale places like these always had some sort of room to “freshen up”, with a sink and running water.

Technoblade would be content with a pot to vomit in.

At the end of the hall, he barreled inside a room behind a small door. A porcelain toilet stood in the corner, but he opted for the sink. Pressure weighed down on his shoulders, his neck, his back. His hands shook as they gripped the cool material the same shade of his white knuckles.

Couldn’t he get a grip?

Why did he feel like this?

Another question, slightly shameful, remained in the forefront of his mind. How on earth did he let Tommy make him feel like this? The gangly teen that frequently called him a bitch and a prick had now rendered Technoblade, the Blood God, right hand to the Philza Minecraft, to weeping silently while staring at his own reflection.

He looked animalistic. His hair had become frayed and wild, he hadn’t had time to run a brush through it or even redo the braid that had chunks of hair hanging out in front of his face. The blue eyes that stared back at him were wide and feral, trained on him like prey about to be slaughtered. And of course, his own blood stained his teeth and the cuff of his jacket, rubbing off onto the flawless eggshell sink.

He looked guilty.

The sight of himself had only reminded him of those condemned to be hung, sobbing to the crowds and to the skies for forgiveness before the noose clawed their lives out their throats.

But Technoblade didn’t feel remorse. It needed to be done. Even then, Tommy had somehow dragged out the echoes of that strangers pleas, the begging to return to his son ricocheting in his mind.

The boy was no older than Tommy. And Technoblade had just sentenced him to the same fate he himself had gone through. The same fate he saved Tommy from.

Vomit spilled into the toilet, tasting of acid and bile and nothingness.

Techno continued heaving well after his guts had emptied. He flushed the guilt down with the watery, jaundiced yellow. Phil would be proud. Tommy was just some kid, applying his own religious ethics onto someone who couldn’t afford the luxury of compliance with a false deity, someone who couldn’t afford the luxury of morality.

Phil was the one who mattered. Phil, Wilbur, Sally, Kristin, Puffy, Fundy…

All of whose lives had been saved from the deed Tommy turned up his nose at. Fuck, he had saved the damned kid from his own life in poverty, or even execution from being affiliated with him. There was no conscience in his life.

Tommy had no idea what he was talking about.

As Technoblade walked out of the bathroom, he could’ve sworn he saw a blonde man watching him from the mirror. No-one was there.

*****

Technoblade was silent the entire train ride to Pogtopia.

He instead pulled out his leatherbound notebook, and began to write. He recorded everything that had happened since the last entry, which was a pot of jumbled thoughts of the aftermath of his time with Billiam. Techno did not write of the man he killed in Kinoko.

He didn’t write of any of the people he killed, that stranger was nothing special.

*****

As Kristin had predicted, the police and the Wardens had returned to their practically noneexistent presence in Pogtopia as they normally remained. It would be surprising, but police and laziness rarely untangled. The Wanted posters with the Syndicate’s faces on them had been covered by fresher papers, describing the latest and greatest criminals who had graced the city with their presence.

Returning to the city had led Techno to nearly drown in the aching, longing nostalgia of a golden age.

The city was nestled in a canyon, many buildings placed on top of one another to make up for the lack of horizontal space. Homes were nestled into the rocky faces of cliffs, only making their existence known by single doors. Firepits illuminated the lower levels of the city.

Everywhere they walked, the residents eyed Tommy carefully. For an instant, Techno thought to pull him closer, to walk behind him to ensure he wasn’t pickpocketed or snatched, but when he moved to do so, the kid flinched away.

Whatever, he can get stolen from then.

The two had to halt to a stop to avoid being crushed by two brawling drunks, who had crashed through the saloon window and onto the ground. One of them cursed at the other. He clearly didn’t know how to fight, scratching and clawing and biting to get free. The other pulled on his dark hair, jerking his head back and exposing his face to Techno.

Sapnap?

That means he’d have to separate them, doesn’t it? With a exasperated sigh, he grabbed Sapnap by the arms and hauled him out of the fight, much to the dismay of the other man.

“Wha- Let me go, dick!” Sapnap yelled, struggling against Techno’s grip. The latter ignored him, leading him away from the saloon and the staring crowd who had eagerly awaited more of a show.

“Quit being stupid, sheriff.” He rebutted.

Tommy followed them into another alley, the only other occupants being an old man in a battered L’Manburg army uniform, hunched around a fire a few yards away. Sapnap calmed down, shoulders slumping at the sight of his mediator.

“Technoblade.” He greeted, pushing the jet black hair out of his face. His cheekbone had been cut, and the beginnings of a black eye began to form on his left. He wore the same clothes he had as he left, except now they had become a worn and shabby memory of what his pristine white shirt and pressed black slacks had become.

“Where’s Karl?” Tommy asked, puffing up his chest. The ex-sheriff glanced at the teen, confusion and a hint of amusement flashing across his face.

“Back in the saloon? I dunno,” Sapnap answered with a hiccup. Techno leaned away from him, his breath stank of whiskey and bourbon.

“Did you know anything about his parents?” He questioned, recieving a shrug in response.

“What about my parents?” Karl asked, behind them, “And what are you guys doing here?”

”It’s a long story.” Techno waved away the question, instead preparing his own, “The last time we talked you mentioned your parents.”

Karl’s face paled at the mention of them. Was that a good sign? Maybe he knew where Callahan Jacobs had run off to hide in Las Nevadas.

“Oh, god, did they actually go through with it?” He muttered under his breath, pulling on his face with a hand in a stressed manner.

Techno held back the urge to knock his teeth out. Karl knew what was going to happen and said nothing.

“I don’t know what you think they were going to do, but your father kidnapped my nephew.”

Karl didn’t seem surprised, Sapnap, collecting himself, offered up a chuckle.

“That seems like somethin’ my grandparents would do.” The black-haired cop mumbled. “With their whole… whatever.”

”I should’ve warned you. I overheard them saying something about it, but with everything going on… I figured they were bluffing.” The brunette admitted.

If Fundy didn’t make it out of… Techno couldn’t stomach the thought of the young kid being hurt. But if he was, Karl was going to have a very rude awakening to what happens when you endanger one of his own.

As for now, violence wasn’t going to do anything. Especially not when Techno was wanted for a fortune in the very city where he and Tommy had snuck into.

“Did you happen to overhear what he planned to do with the boy?” He snapped. As impetuous as beating Karl was, he still wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. “Your mother said he’s in Las Nevadas.”

”No idea.” Karl said with a shrug.

His relaxed demeanor brought Techno to seeing red. Within seconds, the socialite’s son was clutched by the color of his royal violet shirt, the necklace underneath it jangling. His eyes widened, and Sapnap immediately attempted to pull his lover out of the grasp, but there was no use.

“Jacobs, I feel you’re not really grasping who I am. I’ve killed for way less than this. If I ever find out that you knew something that would’ve helped, I’ll find you. And I’ll-” He was cut off by his collar choking him as he was whipped off.

Tommy. He and Sapnap stood in between the two, the latter stumbling in the process, as Karl panted, regaining his breath.

Karl Jacobs and Sapnap Halo shared a look. And then he spoke.

“Quackity. He and my father had this deal, and he’s pretty much the reason my family’s as rich as they are. If my father went off running to Las Nevadas, Quackity would know where.”
The death glare Tommy stared him down with was greatly overshadowed by that information.

Quackity’s name rung a bell, but Techno couldn’t tell from what.

”Don’t hurt him, please.” Sapnap begged, “He’s a close friend of ours.”

He didn’t recieve an answer. Technoblade left, Tommy trailing behind after mouthing an apology to the two of them.

“What the fuck was that?” He then hissed at the pink-haired cowboy. They darted into another alley; Two policeman had begun to question Sapnap’s drunk fighting partner.

”I don’t know what you’re expecting of me, but there’s a child that might be dead right now. Your ethics aren’t my priority.” Techno fired back indignantly.

*****

As soon as humanly possible, Tommy went back to icing Technoblade out, beginning my riding nearly ten feet ahead while returning to the Syndicate’s manor.

Sally and Wilbur, on the other hand, were tailing his every step off Carl’s saddle, badgering him with questions. He told them all he knew on the way to see Phil. The two of them then proceeded to drag him there, nearly planting his face into the wooden porch upon tripping over the steps from the speed.

“So if we get to Quackity, we’ll get to Fundy.” Wilbur explained to Phil, who sat in the master bedroom, reading. Their father raised his eyebrows, impressed and content.

The room was far more lavish than any tent the Syndicate members had lived in. A lot of the furniture had already been here, including the wardrobe, table, and bedframe, all made of the same rich, mahogany wood. An ornate black rug adorned the floor, patterns of silver, green, and red thread making up art of wolves killing crows. The door of the wardrobe hung open, exposing the stacks of books inside.

On the leather trunk holding his clothes, a lockbox of silver jewelry was also left open. Funny, Phil always wore gold.

”How do we get to Quackity?” He inquired, closing his book with a finger in between to save the spot. Sally and Wilbur both looked at Techno. He had no answer for them. Not a definite one, at least.

“He’s…” He thought back to what Karl had told them. “He’s the de facto owner of Las Nevadas, surely we can find him if we look a bit.”

“Right. He’s also the leader of the largest crime syndicate in the entirety of Essempee.” Wil noted.

“So that’s how he has all that money.” Techno mumbled.

“Whatever. We can find one of his little goons if we look hard enough, right?” Sally pushed, pulling out a chair from the table Phil was sat at.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Phil finished, standing.

Chapter Text

The Syndicate’s new manor was wonderful. As thin as the walls were, nothing could be less sound proof than canvas curtains of tents. And as Puffy and Tubbo were organizing the rooms and getting everyone set up, they made sure to put Wilbur and Techno in rooms with locks. She later gave the key to Techno on a leather cord, which joined his other necklace around his neck.

“Thought you would like it,” The Captain mentioned as she walked away.

As he laid in bed that night, Techno realized he did. A lot.

Somehow, the idea of being enclosed in the bedroom gave him more space to think. And to sleep. An oil lamp dimly flickered on a nightstand by the bed, waving away his paranoias of people watching him.

Phil had sent the three of them to bed, promising to search for Quackity and Fundy the next afternoon. Techno found no problem with that, but the other two protested, already prepared to go find information in the depths of the night.

Instead, they eventually returned to their rooms.

Unlike Kinoko, desert summers became incrediby cool at night. Puffy and Tommy were bundled up into leather and fleece cocoons. From where Technoblade’s bedroom was, he could hear the kid mumbling to himself. He was on the fence of whether it was annoying or somewhat soothing.

A breeze wafted in through the window. He stared up at the shapes made upon the cieling. They slowly lulled him to sleep as the cicadas chirped outside.

*****

“Coffee’s runnin’ out, so if you want some, you better get it now.” Tubbo called over to the groggy Techno ambling down the stairs. He nodded, and soon, a steaming mug was pushed into his hands.

He sat on the wooden floor of the porch, enjoying the still brisk morning of late summer.

“How are we supposed to get to them?” Ranboo asked as he followed Aimsey out of the main doors. The other shrugged.

“Sneak in, I guess. I’m not exactly expecting guards at every window,”

“They’re racehorses. Why wouldn’t there be people watching them?” They asked. Aimsey stalled.

“What are y’all talkin’ about?” Techno asked. Well, he muttered it into his mug. Ranboo sighed.

”Aimsey’s trying to get me to steal racehorses from L’Manburg, since Beau’s busy.”

His face lit up at Technoblade’s presence. He could kiss his free morning goodbye, couldn’t he?

“I can’t. I’ve gotta go with Sally n’ Wilbur to look for Fundy.” He protested weakly.

“They can’t do it without you?” Aimsey pleaded.
”I’ll do it if you go,” Ranboo added, meeting Aimsey’s side to stare him down.

Techno said nothing, merely looking up to the sky.

They continued begging. This was a well established pattern among the younger members, especially to Techno. He had a soft spot for cute things, which they took a hearty advantage of.

“Fine.” He relented, pushing down his smile. Ranboo and Aimsey rejoiced through cheering, scurrying around to get everything together before leaving.

Aimsey ceaselessly chattered in between his sips of coffee. He practically bounced off the ground with energy and glee as he explained that L’Manburg wasn’t too far, only an hour or two out from Las Nevadas, and it was a really nice city, really, especially with that new mayor in town.

Techno left out the fact that Wilbur had pretty much started that city.

It was a long story, anyways. In his early twenties, he went through a persistent phase of rebellion with an insistent need for independence, which led him and his brother to running off to the small trading area. Why they ran off in the first place, Techno couldn’t recall.

But with Wilbur’s presence, the trading post and meetup spot to sell drugs had evolved to a small town with an inn and saloon, then a general store, and then a few people moved there, and soon enough, they had become renowned all over Essempee for their saltwater taffy and firework displays.

Not to mention the festival he had started every November.

Of course, Sally was more important than any of those things. He built the city almost as a monument to her, to woo her into his arms. Techno found the idea idiotic, but considering their marriage lasting all these years later, he supposed it worked.

Once the public began clamoring for a mayoral election, they took it as their cue to leave. The Syndicate welcomed the two of them back with open arms, along with the new addition.

However, Aimsey’s mood was too contagious to be dampened with morning tiredness. He nodded as the shorter rambled. Ranboo flapped their hands as the three of them finished preparing.

“And we can make a really, really fast trip to this candy shop for when we get Fundy back, and-” Aimsey continued, but Techno gently cut him off.

“I’ve gotta go check on Sally and Wilbur, n’ then we can go, okay?” He explained, already backing away from the horses. Tommy scooted out of the way, sitting with his back pressed against the fountain. A thick book sat in his lap.

Sally was in the first place he looked, her bedroom. Because of the too-sparse bedrooms for the Syndicate, she had returned to sharing a bed with Wilbur. Their guitar sat in the corner, collecting dust. She leaned against the bed, still in her nightgown, stuffed fox in her lap.

Bags hung under her eyes.

Niki sat with her, completely dressed and knees muddy, rubbing her back.

Techno suddenly felt like a bull in a china shop.

“H-hey. Are y’all busy?” He asked tentatively, barely passing through the doorway. Sally jolted up, fingers brushing through hair and nose sniffling. Her shoulders drooped ever so slightly at the sight of him.

”No. Is everything okay? Did you hear anything?” She asked, her tiredness being tucked away.

He shook his head.

“I haven’t gone out yet.”

A beat of silence.

Niki piped up.

“We’ve been having a rough night.” In an instant, guilt swarmed over him for his peaceful rest he had. Sally and Wilbur clearly not slept well in ages. Techno had just been granted true sleep, with the security of being in a locked room.

“Is there anything I can do?” He offered. Affection was a nightmare to express, but Sally was his sister.

“There’s nothing to do until this afternoon. Unless you can materialize my son in thin air.” Wilbur brought up behind him. Each hand grasped a steaming mug.

He met his wife’s side. Sally and Niki were each given one.

“About that. Aimsey n’ Ranboo need my help with something, so I’ll meet you in Las Nevadas instead of going together,” Techno explained. Sally nodded, unbothered.

“We’ll meet up at the train station then.” She said, head lobbing back onto the mattress.

*****

Aimsey and Ranboo’s company was a pleasant change from the worries and fear for Fundy. They still lingered in the back of his mind, but at the very least, getting up to useless shit was a distraction from it.

Was Techno doing enough, though?

The journey down from the mountains protecting the Syndicate’s area of operations became simpler with every trip. Carl had accustomed himself to the rockey route. The presence of them had scared off most of the snakes, thank the gods.

“So it’ll only take a few hours. I know a fence in Las Nevadas, and she’s gonna meet us an hour away from L’Manburg.” Aimsey explained. His cheeks grew rosy at the mention of the fence. Ranboo snorted.

“Is *that* what this is about?” They prompted, adjusting the bandana around the bottom half of his face. His eyes crinkled in an amused smile.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He deflected.

Techno decided against pushing the topic further.

“Which horses are we grabbin’?” He asked instead, tugging on Carl’s reins ever so slightly to ease him into a trot. By now, they had reached a creek in between the mountainsides and the grassy fields. Hooves splashed against water.

“They’re all Andalusians, Duke, Pearl, and Belle. L’Manburg’s mayor has been using them in horse racing. From what I know, they’re undefeated.”

“The mayor gambles?” Ranboo echoed. For someone who had spent their childhood there, they didn’t seem to know much about the city.

“Yeah. He’s had a problem with all of those vices for decades.” Techno blurted.

“Well that’s coming to our benefit, I guess.”

Aimsey chuckled.

L’Manburg was a brief ride away, and as begrudgingly as he was about it, Schlatt really had made the city better. The earthen streets had become paved with brick, the other half of the city resting atop the docks on wooden stilts.

Shops were labeled with metal hanging signs with intricate artwork. A flag waved in the center of town, standing proud. Wilbur had designed the original flag, but the one that hung there now was entirely black with a burnt orange cross and curve.

Market stalls lined one of the streets, many of the L’Manburg residents converging and bartering there. It left the rest of the streets nearly empty, interrupted with the occaisonal old lady heading home from service.

The place smelled of saltwater and sweets.

It smelled like home.

His chest tightened at the sore nostalgia. Techno could still recall the summer afternoons spent alongside the docks and the sea, as Wilbur lazily strummed the guitar. A breeze blew by, and wisps of pink hair flew in front of his face.

Pogtopia was Technoblade’s origin, yes. He had won duels and robbed his first banks and even been found by Philza in the city. But L’Manburg was home. Outside of the Syndicate and the Blood God, L’Manburg was where he’d return with his tail tucked between his legs like a loyal hound.

“I always forget how nice Manburg is.” Ranboo murmured to themself. Techno’s brows furrowed.

Manburg?
”L’Manburg. This is your hometown?” He corrected. They shook their head. Aimsey stood in front of them, already hopping off Nelson and tethering it to a hitch.

Before they could answer, furious curses screeched from a few blocks away. Up on a steep hill, in front of the Mayor’s white manor, two figures argued. The three of them turned to look, along with a few passers by.

“Go fuckin’ cry about it, bitch!” Schlatt’s voice was unmistakable, but the shorter man that stood next to him was foreign to Technoblade. His dark hair was cut quite shaggy, with a dark blue silk shirt and white suit pants.

“You are the worst fucking mayor I’ve ever seen.” He shot back with a simple middle finger. He marched out of the property as Schlatt continued to spew vitriol.

“You’re such a little pussy. I’m running this entire country on two hours of sleep, with no help, because somebody decided to…” The mayor’s voice temporarily tapered out of earshot as he went to grab something inside. “… And suddenly a pompous casino opening party tonight is more important than this fuckin’ city.”

A party?

By now, Ranboo and Aimsey had returned to their own tasks, as if this was a normal occurrence here. Perhaps it was. The city’s own residents seemed to do the same. Technoblade, however, slowly inched closer to the conversation, after leaving Carl with the other two horses.

“Go fuck yourself. We’re done!” The shorter one yelled. Schlatt seemed unbothered, placing boxes of papers at the edge of the path leading up to his house.

”I don’t need your hand to hold, Quackity. I don’t need your pity money either. I’ll solve all my goddamned problems by myself, while you sit and cry like you…” He returned to his house after chucking a white suit jacket in Quackity’s direction.

Quackity was throwing a party in a casino. Bets were that it was being held in Las Nevadas.

Techno knelt down to pick up the jacket.

He accepted it with a huff, slinging it on in a fluid motion. That jacket probably cost more than any of Techno’s guns. The suit entirely could cover his bounty.

“Thank you.” Their eyes met. Quackity seemed… vaguely familiar. He would’ve dismissed it, if it weren’t for the socialite’s own face morphing into a mix of surprise and fear. Quackity stumbled back a bit.

Should he take the opportunity to find out information about Callahan and Fundy? Approaching footsteps of the L’Manburg sheriff was enough to convince him otherwise.

“Sorry to bother you. Just… forget I was here, yeah?” Techno answered, already walking away. Quackity let him, leaving in the opposite direction.

He returned to where Aimsey and Ranboo waited for him, in front of the market street. His mind raced with the new knowledge of Quackity’s whereabouts later this evening.

“Where’d you go?” The former asked.

“I was eavesdropping on the thing with the mayor. Sally and Wilbur are gonna love me. I found out some intel on Fundy.”
Ranboo’s brows furrowed.

“What would Quackity and Schlatt have to do with Fundy?”

”It’s complicated.” He dismissed with a small sigh. That was Wilbur and Sally’s business to tell people. He wasn’t going to air their dirty laundry.

“Well, the stable’s over here.” Aimsey pointed, gesturing to a small, wooden building farther away from the center of the city.

They led their horses through busy streets, and left them to drink at a trough outside a nearby shop. Upon closer inspection, the horses within were living like gods compared to the Syndicate’s horses. The stable was completely spotless, not even bits of hay strewn across the ground.

Two uniformed men stood at the entrance, facing away from the half-closed doors. Ranboo was right. They’d have to do this as quietly as possible.

Around the side was a small back door, left open and unocccupied. Techno paused before it, bracing himself up against the wall to load his revolver. Being caught in the middle of a gunfight with empty arms was a humiliation he’d like to spare himself.

Aimsey entered first to point out the ones they wanted. Ranboo waited outside, keeping watch.

Duke was the only stallion, gunpowder grey with splotches of white across his back and hindquarters. His short mane stood bone straight. Did he smell of vanilla? Belle and Pearl held the similar status of quality care, with polished hooves and soft hair. The only difference between the three was their colors, the latter two being all white and a rich chocolate brown, respectively.

Jack and Niki would’ve thrived in a job like this. He was in charge of caring for the Syndicate horses, and she had loved animals so tenderly that they were almost drawn to her like a magnet. Stray cats even seemed to approach her in cities, meekly asking for her affection.

But instead, Aimsey and Techno soothed the horses’ nerves, showing their hands and stroking their faces. He pulled a spare apple from his bag, and fed it to Pearl.

The guards outside had begun to bicker. All the better for them, considering it provided them a layer of background nosie to disguise the horses’ clopping hooves.

And then they began to yell. Footsteps dashed away from the building.

No matter. Techno grabbed Pearl’s reins, and led her out the side door. Ranboo was gone, and instead on the ground about a dozen yards away. The two stable keepers crouched over them. A clever distraction, he hoped. Aimsey took control of Duke, and then left him to Techno to fetch the final horse.

They had to work fast. If anyone spotted them…

Techno reached for the rope to lead the three horses, only to find the absence in his bag.

Fuck, he had left it in one of Carl’s saddlebags, hadn’t he?

“Aimsey,” He whispered, motioning to the lack of tool. Their eyes widened. “Is there one inside?”
He shook his head.

“I’ll run and grab mine.”
His heart began to race, chest seizing with anxiety. It wasn’t like him to mess up on a job.

Carl was right where he left him, mouth dripping with cold water. He snorted with annoyance, as if fully understanding what Techno had forgotten.

“Technoblade?” A voice asked. His hand froze above the rope. Police? A Warden?

He turned slowly.

Schlatt, in a pristine, pressed black suit, stood across from him. He wore a practiced smile.

“I’ve been seeing you decorate the walls with Wanted posters, y’know.” He said.

Even worse.

Chapter Text

“Hello,” Techno replied like a deer in headlights. In the best situations, he wasn’t good at talking to people. Talking to his brother’s ex-lover while being wanted for a small fortune obviously was no exception. Schlatt, however, maintained the relaxed, cool stance and smile.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages, it feels like.”

How was he supposed to answer that?

Yeah, I’ve been robbing banks around the country. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go steal your horses.

Obviously not.

“Alright.” He opted for instead.

Please, please, please don’t let Aimsey and Ran get in trouble while he’s cornered by Schlatt.

”How’s your brother?” A twinge of curiosity seeped into his voice as he asked.

“He’s busy. Kids do that to you, I guess.”

Schlatt’s brow raised.

“Kids? Wilbur has children?”

Techno nodded. The mayor’s jealousy was easy to discern. His jaw set, annoyance poorly hidden.

“Never took him for a fatherly person. How’s the mom?”

Gods, Techno’s heart was racing so hard he feared Schlatt could hear the pounding from his spot a few feet away.

On the bright side, Schlatt seemed to be rather unbothered by Technoblade’s presence. Of course, Schlatt had a nasty tendency to surprise people. It reminded him of a Roman emperor that used the same tactic on his execution victims, Domitian.

”She’s waiting on me right now.” Techno lied, “You’d like her.” That one was definitely a lie. Sally was as anti-establishment as they came.

”Well, I won’t hold you back.”

Schlatt took a step back, raising his hands in defeat. Techno attempted to hide his relief as much as possible as he climbed onto Carl’s saddle. Before he trotted away, the mayor approached, stroking Carl’s chin.

“Just one thing, yeah?”

Their eyes met.

“Stay out of this city. Consider this,” He paused, wagging a slow finger between the two of them, “for old times’ sake.” All of the previous casualness and warmth had been long gone. Techno said nothing, but gave a curt nod.

The terror of walking away matched facing Billiam himself.

But when a few minutes had passed, he turned around to find Schlatt a few blocks away, returning to his house. Techno then raced as fast as he subtely could to Aimsey and Ranboo.

The latter was still conversing with the guards, one of which was fetching water from a nearby spout for them. The former paced anxiously, wrying her hands.

His shoulders slumped at the sight of the pink-haired cowboy.

“We have to hurry.” Techno mouthed as he handed the rope over. Aimsey nodded, using it to gather the three, now tense, horses, together, and returned it.

“You go first, we’ll follow. Just in case.” He explained quietly.

Technoblade didn’t need to be told twice. He took off in a steady walk, and then when Ranboo’s willing helpers were out of sight, brought them into a sprint behind Carl.Maybe Phil could have a drinking partner tonight.

The thought of tonight sparked the reminder of what he had learned. Quackity was going to be at a party tonight. Callahan’s presence was likely. If not, they could always just corner the crime lord.

Noon had long passed. Wind whipped around as they rode away from the city, away from the problems he had created that morning. At the very least, the racehorses followed with intent obedience.

When L’Manburg had turned into a small cluster on the horizon, the ocean spanning around it, he stopped. Two figures followed close behind, also on horseback. Techno rested a hand on his revolver. Were they the police? Or Ranboo and Aimsey?

The delighted squealing and cheering put him at ease once more.

Younger Syndicate members always became so overjoyed after successful jobs. Considering their luck over the past year, they weren’t entirely wrong for being happy. The chances of pulling something off well had slimmed so suddenly.

But it was just growing pains. Hopefully.

“We did it!” Aimsey delighted in the sight of the three - six, counting Duke, Pearl, and Belle - all safe. Techno couldn’t help but smile along with Ranboo, who was absolutely beaming. Aimsey had organized this pretty much all by herself. Phil wouldn’t ignore that.

“So where’s that buyer you knew?” Techno asked.

Their eyes widened, and a blush spread over their face.

“Right. Not far from here. She should be here any minute.”

They marched along. Tall spruce trees began dotting the area, a forest not too far off. Alongside a babbling river, a woman waited for them, her own lassos in hand.

From afar, he could’ve mistook her for Niki. They stood at the same height, and had the same short, pink hair. The difference being in how hers was so unmistakably bright. However, close up, she had sharp features and a certain brightness in her eyes that Aimsey matched.

“Guqqie!” Speak of the devil. They nearly faceplanted in rushing over to crush her in a hug. Strange name. Then again, Technoblade wasn’t any less unusual.

“Oh, oh wow." Guqqie remarked, eyes trailing away from Aimsey and over to the horses Techno still led. He managed a hopefully not awkward smile and a small wave. “They’re gorgeous.”

”Schlatt pampers his belongings.” Techno commented.

She reached into an inside pocket of her black jacket, and pulled out a thick clip of bills. “Five hundred for each, right?”

Aimsey nodded.

Why on earth were they robbing banks and trains and El Rapids mayors when they had Schlatt? If his racehorses were that treasured, how much money did he have in that white house of his?

“How have you been?” Ranboo asked. Their eyes crinkled up in a smile.

Were they all friends?

The conversation took a much more amicable route, with Aimsey and Ranboo chatting animatedly about the past few weeks, gesticulating wildly. Apparently the two had nearly gotten into a bar fight the other week.

Despite his exclusion from the conversation, Techno was grateful for their excitement. All he had to do was stand, or sit on Carl’s back, awkwardly while watching the three catch up.

Guqqie pulled out a simple silver chain, and delicately gave it to a gleeful Aimsey. Ranboo recieved a whittled cat painted orange. Apparently it was named Garfield. Techno only got the money, which he quickly counted before putting away.

“Anyways, I should probably take these off your hands before the law catch on.” She motioned towards the horses, “Were they any trouble?”

”They’ll be fine.” Techno answered.

”I’ll see you two on Halloween then,” She turned back to Aimsey and Ranboo, and crushed them both in a hug. With a wave, she was off.

“What’s Halloween?” He asked, as soon as Guqqie was out of earshot. Ranboo chuckled.

“It’s a holiday. We mainly just carve weird faces onto vegetables and eat food.” They said.

Why was today’s youth butchering poor vegetables?

He decided not to inquire further.

*****

Sally nearly broke Technoblade’s ribs with a hug when she heard of what he learned. A few cityfolk walking by their meeting place in a park eyed them strangely. Niki had followed along with the rest of them, and beamed.

“How are we supposed to get in to a party like that?” Wilbur doubted.

“We’ll…” Techno trailed off. He hadn’t really thought past the initial idea of sneaking into the party to consider problems. “Take the place of other guests?” He decided after a moment, the end of the statement sounding more like a question than a true answer.

Phil frowned.

“I mean, we could, but people would notice the difference.”

“Sure. But we can be in and out.”

”What about guards?” Niki proposed. She was right. Any event like this, especially concerning Quackity, needed security.

“We can afford to deal with them.” Phil solved simply. Techno caught the drift.

They spent the next hour wandering the upper city to find this party, checking every casino that socialites would care about. And gods, did Las Nevadas have plenty. Gambling halls, luxury hotels and restaurants, theaters, brothels… If anything, the city’s residents were entertained.

Even if the poorer ones were starving.

Schlatt isn’t the only one that reminded Technoblade of Ancient Rome. Bread and circuses, just, without the bread. Afterall, Techno never complained about the Syndicate when full.

The casino assumed to be the venue of the party was swarmed by guards, stamped with Quackity’s logo. One of which caught his eye, from his light green hair and glasses. He looked… off. Almost human, but not, in the way a man in a bear suit looks like a bear.

There were still hours to go before the party. If the group was going to get in with minimal suspicion, they’d have to do it at the perfect time, when the place was absolutely swarmed. Niki stopped them, grabbing Techno’s hand before he went any further.

“We look like thieves.” She stated, motioning to her own clothes, and then the other four’s. She wore dusty black pants and a white shirt stained with blood. Unlike Techno’s, it was only animal blood, but still. A bandana hung loosely from her neck, and a gambler hat did well to hide her face.

The dozen weapons strapped to her weren’t any help in making her seem approachable, much less like an upper class socialite invited to a party.

Techno wasn’t any different. He hadn’t changed since they arrived in Las Nevadas. The only difference now was that he appeared even more disheveled.

Phil was the only exception. Silver rings adorned his fingers, necklaces hanging from his neck. His emerald green shirt was pressed and immaculate, the black vest, coat, and trousers the same.

His shoes were even free of dust, the steel-tipped toes polished.

He fit right in.

“Thank the gods we had so much work in Kinoko.” Phil said, pulling out wads of cash from a hidden compartment in his belt. He handed each of them a few bills. “Go get changed, and we’ll meet back here.”

Sally and Wilbur glanced at each other, than walked away. The former grumbled about food.

Phil leaned against the wall.

Niki looked back at Techno. Guess they were going together. She smiled. He smiled back, genuine this time.

“We walked past one of those department stores on the way over here, if you want to go there?” She offered.

Techno had forgotten how lovely her company was. He didn’t need to calculate the next step or string together a witty line to say. She made everything so easy.

“Sure.”

What wasn’t easy, though, was the heavy weight of strangers staring at them the moment they entered. A clerk uneasily attended them, showing them the areas with evening gowns and what she called “tuxedo” suits. The bowtie choked at Techno’s neck.

Niki did most of the talking, putting up the front of being some businessperson that had returned from a hunting trip of sorts. The clerk didn’t seem convinced, but she played along with the two of them anyways. At one point, the two even made small talk about the ‘hunting trip’ they went on while Techno tried on some suit.

To be entirely fair, the suit was nice. The clerk had put together a red satin vest on top of the thick, starchy button-down- The jacket and pants matched in a deep shade of grey, with gold cuff links. His puffy, silk tie provided a pop of color, a royal blue. Sure, his hair was a mess and his face was dirty, but at the very least, the clothes were clean and quality.

The collar choked at his neck. He felt stiff, like he wore a suit of armor that provided no real use but to weigh him down and restrict him.

But Niki beamed, making him do a little spin like he was a little girl trying on dresses.

After he changed into his normal clothes, handing the suit off to the clerk, Niki went to try her own dress on. Like always, it was leagues more detailed than his simple suit.

Modern fashion always confused him. The bodice seemed like it choked her, as the skirts flowed out from underneath her waist in deep red that matched his own vest. It formed a slight train behind her. Silk and velvet made up the dress, only broken up by beaded embroidery of flowers.

The clerk offered her a necklace to compliment the square neckline. Niki declined.

Once they left the store and the feeling of being watched returned to the minimal amount of Las Nevadas’s upper class area, Techno let out a sigh of relief. Smoggy outside air was better than stuffy, perfumed atmospheres of department stores.

Philza had already reunited with Sally and Wilbur by the time they returned, all of them dressed to the nines. They blended in perfectly with the crowds that now surrounded him, both people fighting to catch a glimpse of the socialites and stars walking into the venues, and the invitees themselves.

They tucked into the line with ease.

The guard from last time was nowhere to be seen, instead being replaced with a tall man with dark hair. His eyes were steel, ocean grey. Phil pushed the cash into his hands discreetly, giving him a thick wad of hundred dollar bills.

The guard’s brows flickered together in confusion, then his expression was wiped clean as he pulled back the velvet rope to the entrance of the casino.

That was way easier than expected.

Every time Technoblade walked into one of these buildings, they never ceased to impress him. Quackity certaintly made a point to impress. Past the entrance and the foyer, the main hall had tall, vaulted cielings complete with a glass dome.

The floors were made of white marble, interrupted by deep red carpets. Tables were organized in clusters, attendents in white shirts and suspenders were already leading games of blackjack, roulette, and shuffling cards. All of the poker chips, cards, even the roulette wheels all maintained Quackity’s brand of gold, black, and red.

Waiters made rounds with trays of food, none of which Techno recognized. A band in the back played a kind of music he had never heard before, with piano and golden instruments they held up to their mouths, along with violins and drums. The lively music only encouraged the elated energy of the patrons.

Techno glanced back to his family. Phil seemed utterly at home in this environment, waving over a waiter to hand him a glass of a pale, bubbling liquid in a tall glass. Sally and Wilbur were glued to each others’ sides, scanning the area intensely. They muttered in between each other, slightly jerking their heads in directions for the other to look.

Niki was the only one that looked just as out of place as he felt.

Sally, however, grabbed their attention as she began to wander the hall. Wilbur was right on her tail, smiling at other guests.

He made a move to join them when Phil nudged his shoulder. It made him flinch ever so slightly.

“We probably shouldn’t walk around in a pack, mate. Don’t catch anyone’s eye, and look out for Callahan and Quackity.” His father instructed. Techno gave a short nod.

Everything was so loud.

”Have I seen you somewhere before? You seem so familiar.” A woman asked him. Her voice was odd, a mix between British and American. He blinked.

“I don’t think we have.”

Lie. She was almost definitely at the train in Pogtopia, before any of this chaos had ensued.

Niki met his side.

“Oh, I know it! The pair of you attended a dinner party we hosted this spring, right?”

Techno feigned a realization.

“Right! Yes. Delicious food, by the way.” He commented, attempting to copy the gestures and language everyone around him made.

“Thank you! We had taken quite the risk, hiring that new chef, but it’s definitely paid off,” She rebutted.

He simply nodded. Before they had to come up with a response, the woman was beckoned away.

His shoulders drooped.

Thank the gods.

“Is that him over there?” Niki whispered in his ear, nodding over to a tall man with mousy brown hair. Techno narrowed his eyes. The other three didn’t seem to concerned, although Sally eyed the man for a slow second.

The stranger met their eyes.

He gave them a tentative, unknowing smile.

Probably not him.

Techno shook his head ever so slightly, and they continued around the room. They continued this process, going through every brunette male patron, only being interrupted by the occaisonal rowdy person dragging them over to gamble.

“Come on, it’s just one game! What are you here for, if not to play?”

“I’m sorry, we’re just looking for our friend. He’s gotten a bit lost in the fun.” Niki declined politely. The woman huffed.

In the corner of his eye, Techno noticed Wilbur sitting down to play a round of blackjack. He smiled and laughed along with his tablemates, but continued scanning the room.

Was Callahan even here?

“God, this dress is making it hard to breathe.” Niki muttered under her breath. She shifted, adjusting the bodice.

“He might not be in the party. He might just be in the building, wherever Quackity is.” Techno suggested. By now, it felt like they had searched the entire room.

She paused, considering the option.

“If we get caught, what do we say?” She whispered, her voice barely audible.

They could… His mind came up silent, lacking ideas.

“We just won’t get caught. Or say we were looking for facilities.”

Niki giggled.

“’Facilities’?”

“Isn’t that what these kind of people call a privy?” Techno asked. She shrugged.

“Like I’d know. But yeah, let’s go with that. Phil, Wilbur, and Sally can handle this, right?”

They managed to stray from the crowds with little difficulty. Everyone was too caught up in playing and drinking and eating. A waiter passes by, lowering his tray to silently offer food.

Techno took one, unable to tell what it is. A small cracker held a spread of some sort of green paste made up of small spheres. Hesitantly, he put it in his mouth. It took a mighty effort not to spit it out. The taste was revolting and salty and it felt like little beads popping in his mouth.

If those were the appetizers, he wanted to be gone by the time dinner was served.

After darting into an empty hallway, the two let go of each other.

Niki was well aware of his distaste for touching others, and he appreciated the gesture.

She cracked open a door, peering inside. When she turned to face him again, her expression was confused. Inside, was a simple bedroom with a double bed, an armoire, and a vanity. Techno’s brows furrowed. He checked the next room, and it was the same. As were the one after that, and the one after that…

“Is this a hotel?”

Before either of them could answer, footsteps approached. He quickly opened the nearest door, and yanked them both inside. As the person passed, Quackity’s voice echoed the empty hall. Techno opened the door as quietly as possible, and saw that he was only with a single bodyguard.

Callahan was nowhere to be seen so far.

Quackity surely knew where he was.

Techno didn’t need much more contemplation before reaching out for the casino owner, cupping his hand over his mouth, and pulling him inside. Niki followed suite, grabbing the body guard and bringing him inside. To keep him from doing anything to ruin this, she took out her knife and slashed his neck. Blood spattered against her face.

Chapter Text

Wilbur and Philza found them soon enough, after Sally fetched them. In the meanwhile, Technoblade made himself busy tying Quackity down to the chair. Once the man came to, he found himself surrounded by four people, with his body guard dead on the floor.

Quackity opened his mouth to scream when his gaze met Wilbur’s, who promptly shoved his glove into his mouth to shut him up.

Techno couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Here we fucking go again. He stood up and moved to the back of the room, leaning against the wall.

The Syndicate was no stranger to getting information out of people. Out of all the crimes Technoblade had committed, the methods he used to attain such information was always looked down upon the most. Phil’s habit of washing his hands clean of the act was understandable. But someone had to do it.

But Quackity was a different case. Wilbur and him always had this… strange sort of chemistry. They argued incessantly, but couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. They always had the most uncomfortable way of going about everything. This situation proved to be no different.

At times, Techno wondered if Sally ever got jealous. Wilbur had ranted on how annoying and infuriating Quackity was to his brother, and the situation always vaguely reminded him of the rambles he’d go on in L’Manburg about how wonderful Sally was.

Techno, you don’t get it. She’s so lovely. And her hair! It smells nice.

To that, Techno only managed a snort and the predictable remark of ‘Why are you sniffing her hair?’.

”Look, Quackity, I want this to be easy for you. Yeah?” Sally sat down right next to her husband.

No answer, no acknowledgement.

Wilbur sighed, feigning resignation and disappointment. But the building glee in his eyes was unmistakable. He unsheathed his knife, and toyed with it in his hands.

Phil took the same stance as Technoblade, watching from a measured distance. A faint smile on his face. Techno couldn’t recall the last time he had seen Phil present during one of these situations. He had always assumed he didn’t like them. Fundy probably made it different. He was his grandson, after all.

Quackity silently called Wilbur’s bluff. His body remained dead still, barely even moving to breathe. Even as Wilbur held up the knife to his neck, yanking him down by the hair to do so. His lips brushed against Quackity’s ears as he spoke once more.

”Where’s my son? We know Callahan Jacobs has him.”

It was strange to be in this position. Normally, Technoblade always wielded the knife. Well, metaphorically. Literally, he usually just used his fists. The calluses covering his knuckles were enough proof. But Wilbur seemed so methodical in it. He clearly relished in the anticipation, the growing tension in Quackity’s shoulders as he braced for pain. The fear in his eyes that Techno couldn’t see, but knew was there.

The idea that this was the same man that had been helping Tommy like a loving brother only hours ago seemed almost impossible. There was something off about him.

There had been for a while.

Sally, on the other hand, was much more efficient. She lodged her fist into Quackity’s cheekbone, and then again.

The crime lord’s breathing had become heavy and staggered. From Technoblade’s spot, he could see the muscles straining in his neck, as if he was biting down to keep from crying out. From giving in.

Surely he wasn’t that easy to break, right?

She then snatched Wilbur’s knife and drew a thin line underneath his jaw. Not deep enough to be fatal, but enough to hurt.
Her brows furrowed. Sally had always been unreadable - but her determination was obvious. Nearly the opposite from Wilbur’s inching on the line of assault, toying with Quackity’s building fear. She simply wanted answers.

And she punched him again.

Wilbur ripped the glove out from Quackity’s mouth.

”Where’s Callahan holding my son?” He asked. The only response he recieved was a gob of bloody spit landing on his cheek. Quackity laughed.

This was just getting boring.

Tehcno stepped forward until he stood right behind Quackity’s chair, a hand on each shoulder. His body immediately stiffened from Technoblade’s touch, his chest sinking in as if he was holding his breath.

Even from their earlier days of being mere cowboys, Quackity was always scared of him. Perhaps it was all the bar fights, all the duels, all the bounties he’d turned in. Maybe it was the mere difference between the two of them. But right now, it didn’t matter.

Fundy could be dead. He could be hurt. He was barely old enough to sleep on his own, still occasionally sneaking into his mama’s cot. And Quackity was helping the culprit.

Techno leaned over to his ear.

”You get one chance. Where’s Callahan holding him?” His voice came out slow and cold, almost icy.

“I- I don’t know.”

Fine.

”Sally.” Technoblade didn’t even need to do anything. The redhead already grabbed Quackity by the collar of his dress shirt, and punched him again, this time in the eye.

”I swear, I don’t fucking know!”

”Yes you fucking do. Don’t lie.” Technoblade retorted. “One last chance.”

Sally lowered her hands, instead loosely wrapping them around Quackity’s neck. A silent promise. Wilbur smiled.

”I have him. He’s been in one of my houses, I’m waiting on Callahan to pay me.”

”Why do you want him?” Wil asked, trying to hide his confusion.

”There’s- I don’t. I was going to sell him back to you guys, once Jacobs gave me the damned money.”

Even though his face wasn’t visible from Techno’s point of view, his fear was. Under his hands, Quackity’s shoulders rose and fell quickly, his chest trembling with each breath. Wilbur and he had always been like this, constantly fighting with each other every time they were within earshot, but he’d never met Sally. And Technoblade, well…

It’s strange to see a crime lord so weak, so fragile. Like a wobbling fawn about to be slaughtered.

Sally held the knife up to his neck again.

”We’re gonna let you out. And then you will take us to where my son is, and give him back, free of charge.” Her tone was low and quiet, barely audible from where Techno stood, but not gentle in the slightest.

”Are you fucking serious?! No! Callahan needs to-”

Quackity’s voice was cut off my a loud smack, a red handprint coming up onto his face seconds later. Sally shook her hand, attempting to ease the stinging of hitting him. Wilbur reached out to grab it.

”Listen to me. Callahan Jacobs isn’t gonna pay you jack shit. He’s broke. That’s why he went to you, not that he cares about any kind of promises he’s made.”

”Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid?”

“Then why hasn't his family come with him? His wife?” She countered.

Phil chuckled. Techno had forgotten he was even in the room, the sound nearly startling him.

“Callahan and his wife get along worse than you two do.” Quackity spat. “It's no-”

Wilbur beat Sally to the punch that time.

“Talk like that again and you'll see her again really soon.” Wil threatened.

Techno sighed. They weren't getting anywhere with this. Phil, apparently, could tell too, as he stepped in.

“Right. How much is Jacobs supposed to pay you, mate?” He asked, a superficial sort of friendliness to his voice.

Leave it to him to be the diplomat.

“I've seen you all in the newspapers, you guys are broke.” Quackity retorted with another laugh. “He’ll sooner pay me than you.”

The cogs turning in Wilbur’s head as he debating striking him again was easy to watch. In the end, Techno tightened his grip on Quackity’s shoulders. Sally was the one to speak up.

”Jacobs isn’t gonna do shit. I gutted his wife. We burned down his house. There’s nothing he can give you, and he knows he’s running out of time.”

Silence.

It was nearly deafening. Quiet ticking was all that permeated Techno’s hearing, coming from Phil’s pocket. Gaps in between each mark of a second grew.

Sally always had an intriguing way of going about this sort of thing. Brute violence was replaced with timed hits, and words that wonderfully snaked into anyone’s head. Even Quackity’s.

He always was so young. Sure, he was wealthy from a good decade of work in practically making Las Nevadas into what it was now. Gangs like the Syndicaqte were swamped by Quackity’s manpower, meanwhile Billiam’s men had nowhere near the amount of loyalty that the former’s did to Las Nevadas. But nothing made up for lack of experience. Even if he feigned a guarded exterior.

“I want proof.”

Chapter Text

“What the hell is taking him so long, Phil?!” Sally’s voice reverberated from the room the two of them spoke in.

As great as living in a place that had actual walls was, they turned out to be quite thin. Still better than canvas sheets, so Techno couldn’t complain about that.

”We need to be patient.” His father reassured her, though his patience clearly waning.

It had been two days since they brought Quackity to the burnt remains of the Jacobs’ property in Kinoko. The crime lord immediately rushed back to Las Nevadas - very satisfyingly shaken, in Techno’s opinion - and swore he’d get Callahan’s head if this wasn’t fixed.

Funny, how pale someone can get when they realized they’d pissed off a country-renwoned gang for a false promise of a fortune.

But these forty eight hours dragged on impossibly slow, complete with arguments, silent treatment, pacing, and lots of fear. Mainly for Sally and Wil. His brother had a room right across from Techno’s, and he could hear Sally’s quiet footsteps trail in their late into the night.

And sure, Technoblade was a hardass, but he couldn’t help but feel a spark in his chest grow into a steady warmth when the two of them stayed together. With how horrible things were, it was nice, almost reminiscent of better days.

Daytime was much more difficult.

Especially for Phil.

“Yeah, yeah, y’know, you keep fucking saying that, and yet my son is missing!”

She had a point.

”Sally, if you came here to just complain and holler about things out of my control, I have more important things to do,” Philza retorted coolly.

A frustrated huff. Heavy footsteps trailing away.

Techno kept staring up at his ceiling. He felt sick, and numb.

Sinking dread had made it’s comfortable home in his gut. It had been so long, he honestly couldn’t remember when this started. Maybe all the way back up in the mountains. Or in Logstedshire, as shitty as that town was. Or, later, in Kinoko. He hated that town enough for it to be true.

Every single thing in it.

If he ever had to step foot in that place again, he’d kill someone. Again.

*****

“Techno,” Will’s voice jolted him out of a light, restless sleep, and he starkly sat up, eyes trailing across the room.

No-one was here.

Just Wilbur, and him.

He was fine.

“Did’ya have to do that?” Techno grumbled, patting around on his nightstand as he searched for his glasses.

“Yes. I need your help on something.”

Oh, for gods’ sake.

Crickets chirped outside, the only sound they could hear, other than Wilbur’s impatient footsteps as he tapped the toe of his boot on the wooden floor. A breeze flew in from the window.

Desert summer nights were unbearably cool, suhc a strong dichotomy from the blistering heat of the day.

”Fundy?”

”No. Just… c’mon, Techno, we can talk outside.”

Hell. Now with clearer vision, he watched as Wilbur quickly glanced behind him, to the still closed door of his bedroom. His voice was low and quiet, careful not to wake Sally or anyone else up.

Dark bags hung under his eyes.

Neither of them had been able to sleep well, since… so Techno could only imagine how much he himself looked like a dead man walking.

But Techno complied, crawling out of bed and pulling on his boots before following Wilbur out of his bedroom, snatching his hat off his desk. A dull aching tugged at him at the sight of Tommy’s sleeping form, in the bedroom he shared with Tubbo and Ranboo.

It feels like forever since they last spoke.

Night air bit against his face, waking him up completely. He squinted, turning his expression into more of a grimace. Goosebumps prickled his skin, chills seeping into his bones. He was not dressed adequately for this, not even wearing long sleeves.

Why the hell had Wilbur woken him up so late?

”We need to figure out what the fuck Dream’s doing.” Wilbur said, as if he could read his brother’s mind. To be fair, he probably could better than anyone else, except for maybe Kristin and Phil.

“Wh- No. No, we don’t. We need to fucking sleep.” It was too late - technically too early - for this. “I thought you’d moved on from this?”

Wilbur hadn’t brought up Dream’s loyalty for weeks. Didn’t he have better things to worry about anyways? Like his son?

“You don’t understand. He’s been… He’s been talking with cops.”

Oh?

Techno’s eyebrows raised. His brother’s thought process danced that careful balance between completely mad paranoia, and genuine suspicion. Outlaws talked to police all the time, believe it or not. Crooked ones, but still.

“What if he’s just trying to pay off a bounty?”

Another reason why Wardens were so dangerous was their pay. Awesamdude seemed to afford to give the higher-ups such an extraordinary pay rate - a salary, he called it - that they wouldn’t even consider whatever money low-level outlaws could fish up, unlike city or county policemen. No wonder they all seemed to be greedy assholes.

“Do you want to take that chance?” Wilbur hissed. “You and I both know the Pogtopia bust was too smooth to have failed.”

Only, Techno didn’t know that. Hell, he wasn’t even there.

”Plus, he was there when we were driven out of Logstedshire. What about that?”

There was no winning this. Even if Dream was innocent, Wil would only get more suspicious. They might as well nip it in the bud right now.

”Fine. What do you want to do?”

*****

This was the last time he was ever listening to his brother. Yes, Techno had insisted that to himself before, like that time up north, when he made Techno help him run ‘thought experiments’ on the people in Terranova. Or that time he pelted Techno with an apple. Or that time Techno had to dress up as a bunny.

Honestly, he probably should’ve actually meant it after the bunny thing.

“I swear to the gods, Wilbur, we better get some coffee after this,” He grumbled lowly.

The only response he recieved was a quiet hush, and a light smack on his arm.

Following Dream through empty fields in the middle of the night had been a pain, especially considering they had to spend those hours in pitch darkness to avoid getting caught. But by the time they’d arrived to Las Nevadas, being inconspicuous became rather simple. Wilbur and Techno would stay about two blocks behind, walking slowly.

Even in the dark summer nights, Las Nevadas was ever busy.

Dream led them to a building a bit outside of the city center. Unlike the usual towering buildings with metal detail and extravagant style, this one was shabby. They seemed to be in a dodgier part of town; as Dream walked into an alleyway.

Wilbur’s grip on Techno’s hand tightened in anticipation. The latter couldn’t help but get curious too, even suspicious, as someone in the ever-recognizable blue suit of L.N. policemen snuck down the very same path, and emerged a couple moments later.

”Get down,” His brother whispered harshly, yanking him out of the glow of a street light - yes, Quackity had spent the tens of thousands of dollars on lighting up his sprawling empire - and into the darkness, right as Dream discreetly walked out and away from them, tucking something into the pocket of his coat.

Techno wasn’t awake enough to process this.

But apparently Wil was, as he spent the entire quick ride back to the manor ranting about how he’d never trusted Dream, and how he had been acting shady for months now, and how it just had to be related to the Pogtopia incident, and them being driven out of Logstedshire. Hell, maybe that was how Punz knew where they had ran in Kinoko.

To be entirely fair to the brunette, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. Every time something had gone wrong, Dream had been there. But if they were going to accuse him of treason, they needed more than this. After all, there were plenty of other members present at most failed jobs.

Philza, for example. Anyone accusing him of trying to run his own gang into the ground would be delusional, but there was also Wilbur and Techno. And Sally. But they’d been with the gang for years. They were family.

Wasn’t that what the Syndicate was supposed to be?

Technoblade and Wilbur arrived a bit before dawn, right as Sally raced to her horse, clutching a paper in her hands. He caught a glimpse of the red wax insignia of Quackity’s own gang, and braced himself for the journey to go get Fundy. Sally was absolutely beaming.

Phil followed close behind, yanking on his jacket.

”We’re getting the boy back,” He announced to the groggy camp. Niki caught Techno’s eye, and she passed him a grin.

If it were any other circumstance, Techno would’ve groaned at the fact that they had just returned from that damned place only to go back again. But suspense built up inside him. No, not suspense, but something else, something foreign.

Quackity quickly ruined this mood. Like he usually did. Philza and Techno, oddly enough, were the only ones allowed to pass the iron gates of his house in uptown Las Nevadas. Perhaps because Sally had pulled a gun on one of the guards to tell them to go get Quackity.

And then, a strangely greasy looking man - who probably ate something wrong judging by just how green his face looked - cheerfully explained that Quackity wanted to speak to Phil alone.

Great!

Totally not like the crime lord had a huge vendetta against Philza’s sons. One of which had shot off Quackity’s finger in a duel, and the other had an ever-confusing, psycho-competitive relationship that ended in oddly intimate ‘arguing’.

Fortunately, Phil emerged within the hour, looking rather pleased. The young redhead boy followed suite, holding his granfather’s hand.

No injuries, no signs of going hungry, he wasn’t even upset at all. Hell, Quackity had dressed him in the stupid button down and suspenders all of his men wore. As soon as the gates opened, Wilbur swept him up into his arms, peppering kisses all over his face.

Phil pulled Techno to the side as the small family rejoiced, fawning over their son found alive and well.

”Do you know what’s going on with the Halo family over in Kinoko, mate?” His voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want Wilbur or Sally to hear. Techno’s brows furrowed. Why was everyone so on edge about that damned family?

”No. Kristin mentioned them bein’ ‘eccentric’, but I don’t even remember seein’ any of ‘em when we were there.”

Phil’s expression hardened at the mention of his wife.

”What?” Techno prompted. This whole dancing around the problem and watching his parents refuse to so much as look at each other hurt like not much else could.

”Nothing. Let’s just get Fundy home.”

Before he could question Phil any further, the blonde had already returned to the child’s side, adoring him from Wilbur and Sally's arms.

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im not formatting this or anything, i just wanted to say that because of both dream and wilbur getting exposed for terrible behavior lately, i won't be continuing this fic. i've thought about it a lot, tried to cut dream out, but after wilbur, there's nothing i can do. thank you so much for the support, and make sure to go support shelby (shubble)!!

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its been a year and a half (just about) since i quit this fic, and it's been three years since technoblade passed. the idea of making it so long without him feels insane to me, with the weight of missing him getting easier to manage each day that passes.

technoblade was my biggest role model throughout high school. he inspired me to become a storyteller even half as good as him, or at least try to, and if it weren't for him, i wouldnt even be an english major right now, working towards that dream. every time i think about quitting, all i can think about is him. when he passed, i'd just graduated secondary school with no plans in life, and now im actually working on becoming a real writer. i dont think i wouldve ever done it if it werent for him, and this fic specifically.

embarrassingly, i think about this fic a lot. honestly i had no idea how i was going to end it, since having him meet the same fate as arthur morgan would be so miserable to write id rather claw my eyes out with toothpicks. but writing this fic gave me such a great deal of comfort after his passing, like i was keeping his memory alive. im so, *so* happy i didnt delete it, even though i really wanted to last february.

i dont know why im writing this, or why ive posted it. i re-read this the other day, while feeling uninspired and nostalgic. maybe i'll re-do it, or continue it. if anyone is still interested in a dumb cowboy fanfiction after a year and some change, haha.

either way, i hope all of you techno fans are doing well. he would be so proud of all of us for what we've done. this fandom was the single most welcoming community ive ever been in, and returning back to it year after year feels like a warm hug after crying each time.

technoblade never dies!

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hello! this is going to be a very short update, but i basically wanted to explain what i plan to do with this.

ive gone back and re-read most of the fic to try and get my bearings, since it's been so long, and im realizing that i am not proud of the quality of it. it was a good first draft, but NOT AT ALL good enough to publish. also! ive had a lot of different ideas i'd like to implement into this, that i think would make the fic so much more interesting instead of a copy/paste of rdr2's plot with dream smp characters (inc. more fantasy elements! and maybe a spinoff about grian?)

and wilbur... i've considered trying to just killing him off or focusing on the writing of his character & detaching him from the person, but i just can't. that man is so evil it leaks into everything, and i dont want that.

so, for the past month or so i've been working on re-writing the fic! i'll post it under a new name so i don't have to delete this one, but it'll take me a little bit to get enough footing to post any chapters. thanks to anyone who had enough patience for me this far, yall are absolute angels.

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the new fic's out now, with it's first chapter! check it out plspls