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These days, Wilbur often feels as if he is going mad.
He must be, he thinks. Because Techno can’t be missing- Techno cannot have been missing for nearly two weeks. Techno would have found a way home by now. Someone would know something. Wilbur would know something.
And yet.
Techno’s room remains silent, his chair empty. Soldiers wait, directionless without their general; Wilbur waits, lost and empty without his twin.
Everyone they could spare is out looking, searching for Techno. He hasn’t died, they know that for certain- Phil would know if he had died, She would’ve told them.
Wilbur would know if Techno was dead. He knows, he just knows. He would feel it if Techno had died and he hasn’t, he’s alive out there, somewhere. Somewhere no one has been able to find him, but he’s alive. He is.
Wilbur keeps pacing, because if he stops, he thinks he may just lose his mind altogether.
“Sit down,” Phil says, for what feels like the thousandth time, grabbing Wilbur’s arm and dragging him towards the couch.
“I can’t.” He pulls away, limbs tingling. He can’t- he can’t. “I need- I have to be doing something, I need to find him.”
“Everyone is looking for him, mate. And- and Techno is strong, I know he’s working on escaping.”
“He would’ve found a way by now.” Wilbur’s whole being feels carved to pieces. “He would’ve come home. They- they must’ve hurt him and that’s why-”
“Wilbur.” Phil grips his arms, forcibly stopping him. Wilbur looks up at his father and- and oh gods, Phil has tears in his eyes. “Mate, I know- I know this is hard but we have to hold on. Techno’s going to come home, we just have to- we just have to have a little faith in him.”
~~~
To our most distant and inhuman Emperor,
We have the creature you call your son.
Magic must be purged from these lands. We must be rid of the unnatural plague.
If you comply with our demands we will return the Prince alive.
If within one week you have not publicly demonstrated a good-faith effort
we will bring you his body.
~~~
Techno had been sparring with Sam when they took him.
Even now, chained and gagged and lying in the bottom of a cart bumping and jostling over rough roads, this is the thought prevalent in his mind:
That Sam could be dying.
And Techno has always known he will outlive his mentor. He’s known, ever since the day Phil explained to him and Wilbur what it truly meant to be Death’s child, that he would outlive nearly everyone he ever came to care about.
But Sam- gods, Sam had time left. They attacked him, he could be dying, and Techno doesn’t know how to stop the worry aching in his chest.
Or maybe that’s being parted from Wilbur.
Escape. Techno needs to concentrate on- on escaping.
He hasn’t seen his captors’ faces, the bag over his head contributing to the general dulling of his senses. He’s tested the chains already, but the metal is too strong to break. If he were in the bloodwrath then perhaps he could do it, but at great cost to his body. He could die- he could be too badly injured to fight his way free and get home.
He’ll have to wait. Make a plan.
Techno wakes up chained to a chair.
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. This has suddenly gotten far, far worse.
The blindfold and gag are gone, at least. It’s… something. He doesn’t know yet if it will help.
The Voices are suspiciously quiet.
Assess the situation. What can I use to my advantage?
He tests the chains again, finding them just as strong as before. The chair feels sturdy, but he can tell by the creaking and groaning when he shifts that it’s made of wood. And all wood, no matter how tough, is breakable.
The room is stone, with a bit of iron grating in the wall, letting a shaft of sunlight fall on Techno’s face. He can’t see anything beyond it- can’t hear much, either, besides what he thinks is a forest.
The room is uncomfortably familiar, bringing back painful memories of his little brother bleeding to death in a basement, cold and hurt and scared.
Techno stares determinedly out the window, willing himself to stay strong. This is not the same room. This is not the basement where Tommy died, or was tortured, or where Ranboo was tortured. This is a fragile prison, and one he’ll escape from soon enough.
Techno counts three nights before anything comes to interrupt the monotony.
It’s a creaking and scraping, like a door opening. Techno stares directly ahead, determined not to show any fear. Not to show his captors any weakness. Never mind that he’s hungry and tired and cold, never mind the pain lodged in his chest at missing Wilbur.
Footsteps approach. Heavy, leather scraping on stone. A hand fists in his hair and yanks his head back savagely.
“Still alive, witch?” a voice spits.
That… is confusing.
Techno isn’t a witch. Techno has no magic.
“I went to a lot of trouble to get my hands on netherite,” the man continues, angry and harsh. “You oughta be half-dead by now.”
“You have the wrong person,” Techno chokes out, words coming awkwardly due to the angle his head is being held at, the pressure on his throat. “I don’t have magic.”
“Liar.” Another harsh tug to his hair before it’s released, the man shoving his head forwards so hard Techno’s chin hits his chest and forces his teeth together nearly on his tongue. “Inhuman features go hand-in-hand with magic.”
For a second, Techno’s heart stops.
His hair. His pink hair- one of Wilbur’s first childhood spells, one that has held throughout his life.
Wilbur has been lucky. He was born lucky, born with no visible signs of the power in his blood. Not like Ranboo, born half ink black and half paper white; not like Fundy, born with pointed ears and sharp teeth. Wilbur appears fully human, and Techno…
He has no magic, but there is no advantage to be found in convincing them otherwise. They would probably kill him- at the very least, would go after Wilbur, or Tommy- gods, Tommy, still so affected by the things that were done to him. Tommy, whose wings ache constantly, who wears his concealment amulet more and more often, but whose secret is known to the whole castle staff.
Techno can’t be affected by the netherite. It may have cut off or impaired his connection to Wilbur, but he can’t be permanently hurt.
Netherite would hurt Tommy badly; it would kill Wilbur.
Techno can hold out long enough for them to find him- because he knows his family. They will find him.
“Well?” The man grabs Techno’s hair again, tugging his braid harshly. “Nothing to say for yourself, filth?”
Techno stares at the wall, at that bit of grating, and stays silent. He can endure whatever they do to him. For Wilbur, for Tommy, he can endure.
“Maybe I should take that pretty hair,” the man hisses in his ear. His breath stinks, and Techno nearly flinches away. “Cut it off and send it to the Emperor. I’m sure he’d understand that message, wouldn’t he?”
This man, and anyone who helped him, will die as soon as they’re located. Techno can endure. Even the loss of his hair- long and pink and half covering the ugly scars of his death.
Because he knows his father. He knows that there is nothing that can prevent Philza, the Emperor, the Angel of Death, from finding one of his own.
Techno stares at the wall and masks pain and terror and a horrible grief under practiced calm as a knife is set to his braid. As the man saws through it, not caring if he cuts Techno’s skin or pulls his hair too harshly.
As the familiar weight of it is suddenly, irreversibly, gone.
They give him water several times a day, but nothing else.
Techno doesn’t know how long he can survive like this, but it will have to be long enough.
If he dies, his mother will be waiting for him. She’ll send him back as soon as it’s safe. Techno knows Her, knows She will spare him as much suffering as She can.
But he can’t think about that right now.
He has to hold out. Phil will find him before the worst happens. His father will save him.
~~~
The ransom note is brought to the castle’s doors exactly two weeks after Techno’s kidnapping.
With it, a thick braid of light pink hair.
Wilbur doesn’t read the note- Phil doesn’t let him. Wilbur takes Techno’s braid and sits in his conservatory, the plants drooping and wilted without Wilbur’s efforts to sustain them. He hasn’t been able to care for them, hasn’t been able to think of anything but Techno.
“What did they do to you?” Wilbur whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, the braid pressed to his heart. “Techno, what did they do?”
~~~
They’ve started beating him.
Techno doesn’t know why. He suspects they don’t have a reason. They’re only trying to hurt him.
Because he has heard the things they say about magic. About people who have it.
About their goals.
This same battle has been happening over and over again. Every time they think they’ve won, every time they think magic wielders are safe, someone else comes to try to tear down all they’ve made.
In the times they leave him alone, Techno whispers to his mother.
He knows She can hear him. She always listens, She always hears. She’s promised that to him and Wilbur, so long ago, when she first had to leave them.
Please, just protect them. Please keep them safe.
Please, help me endure the pain.
Bring me home. Please, just take me, let this stop.
She doesn’t answer.
Techno hadn’t really thought She would.
The beatings continue. In the times when he’s clearheaded enough to think, Techno takes stock of what he knows.
There are six men in whatever place he’s being kept. The ringleader, Cassius, has a heavy hand and a strong distaste for magic users- the Voices whisper of his death, that he will be the first they tear apart, and Techno can only agree.
This building- a cabin of some sort, he believes- is, as he thought, in a desolate wood. No one is close enough to hear his screams- if he screamed.
Techno has made some progress towards breaking the chair.
If he can manage that, then… he doesn’t know what he’ll do next. His plan hasn’t extended that far.
Somehow, get free from the chains. Somehow, find his way home.
Back to Wilbur.
~~~
Wilbur takes Carl, and his own horse Friend, and just rides.
There’s this tug in his heart and he knows he must follow it. There’s no other choice. There’s nothing else to do.
It’s dangerous and reckless and it could get him killed but he has to go. Techno could need him, and Wilbur needs Techno.
The first crow lands on his horse’s neck three hours after Wilbur left. It fixes him with one black beady eye, croaks in a way that sounds distinctly judgmental.
“I’m not going back,” Wilbur says, glaring at it. “Fuck off.”
The crow caws again and flies away. Wilbur urges Friend and Carl to go faster, chasing the insistent pull he knows is Techno.
A second crow comes a couple hours later; a third, a fourth. Wilbur shoos them all away. Hopefully Phil will get the hint- he’s not coming back. Not until he has Techno.
The crows follow him as Wilbur follows the tugging in his heart.
It takes something like ten hours of hard riding to spot a cabin in a lonely forest. Wilbur leaves the horses a bit further out, and creeps closer on foot.
The cabin is silent, the door half-open and swaying in the wind. Wilbur steps inside, and is immediately overwhelmed by the stench of blood.
There are bodies on the floor and one figure in the middle of the room, swaying on his feet. He turns, and Wilbur gasps sharply at the sight of Techno’s bruised, swollen face. His hair cut short around his chin, ragged and greasy and matted.
“Tech,” he breathes.
Techno blinks rapidly, still swaying, and drops. Wilbur hurries to him, catching him before his head hits the ground.
“Knew y-you’d come,” Techno breathes, a ragged smile appearing on his face. “Trusted you.”
“Tech, what the fuck did they do to you?” he whispers. His chest aches. Techno’s arms are bound in front of him with heavy chains, and Wilbur reaches for them, stopped by a desperate cry that sounds wrenched out of Techno’s chest.
“No, don’t- don’t touch,” Techno gasps. “N-neth’rite-”
Wilbur snatches his hands back, his own breathing shaky. “They- they thought you were-”
“Wil,” his twin whimpers, “I want to go home.”
“We will. We- we’re going home.” Wilbur holds him as close as he can, careful not to touch the cuffs or chains. Gods, his bones feel so sharp, he’s so thin- “We’re going home.”
Wilbur is acutely aware of the danger they’re in.
He needs to let the horses rest before they can ride home. He wants to get the cuffs off Techno but he can’t touch them.
Every second that passes makes him more anxious. Here they are, the general and the future Emperor, stranded in the woods, alone. Techno’s incapacitated, unable to defend himself; Wilbur’s not strong enough to do so.
“Techno, I need you to talk to me,” Wilbur says as he all but drags him back towards where the horses are. “Are- are you hurt?”
Techno groans, feet scrambling weakly at the ground. He can’t seem to get his legs under him.
“Techno, Technoblade, I need you to tell me if you’re hurt.” Wilbur pauses for a second to get his arms around Techno’s bony shoulders again, pulling harder. “Please, please, I need to know if you’re bleeding.”
“I… I’m okay.” Techno’s voice is slow, thick. “How… how many bodies?”
“I- I don’t know. I’ll have to go back and look.”
“Should be… six.” Techno makes a sound, high and pained. “Wil- Wil, stop, stop-”
Wilbur does, kneeling to let Techno’s shoulders rest in his lap. “What is it?” he asks, worrying, resting his hand on Techno’s forehead.
“S… sorry.” Techno gasps for breath, tipping his head back. “I can’t- it’s just, the pain.”
“You said you weren’t hurt.”
“Not… not bleedin’. I’just hurts.”
Wilbur brushes his tangled, matted hair back, forcing a gentle hum from his aching throat. “I can’t- I don’t think my magic will help,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” Techno blinks, eyes hazy but so full of trust. “S’okay, Wil. I c’n be strong.”
A crow circles overhead, cawing loudly. Wilbur inhales sharply, wrapping his arm a bit more securely around Techno’s chest.
“Look. Look, dad is coming.”
Techno blinks at the sky, smiling slightly. “S’good,” he breathes.
Wilbur is seized by sudden fear. “Stay- stay awake. Stay with me, don’t die-”
“M’okay.” He tilts his head back a bit more. “Look a’ me, Wil, m’okay.”
“No, you’re not, you’re hurt-”
“I’ll be okay.” Techno exhales shakily. “G-go check the bodies.”
“I can’t leave you-”
“’f they’re not all dead we both are, go.” He lifts his hands as if to shove at Wilbur, letting them fall back to his lap before the metal can touch Wilbur’s skin.
Wilbur gasps in a desperate breath himself, holding Techno tighter for a second. “I’ll be back. I’ll be right back, don’t try to move, Techno, okay?”
His twin nods, eyes closing briefly as Wilbur lowers him to the ground. Wilbur lingers for a few seconds longer, but fear of potential attackers wins out over his fear for Techno.
The stench of blood in the cabin is overpowering. Wilbur presses his arm over his face, breathing shallowly to try to not smell it.
Six of them, Techno said, there should be six-
Six bodies are motionless on the floor, covered in blood. Most too torn into to be recognizable in any way.
Wilbur spits on the nearest one and hurries back to Techno.
His twin gasps in another breath as Wilbur lifts him again, slipping one arm under his arms, around his chest. “Th- they’re-”
“They’re dead. All six of them.” Wilbur glances around desperately, but there’s so little cover- and he doesn’t think he can drag Techno any further- so he sits down, right there on the leaf-covered ground, adjusting Techno’s upper body across his lap. “We- we’re safe for now, so we re going to just- we’re going to sit here, and wait for Dad to come.”
“’kay.” Techno closes his eyes again. “Y… you should start a fire. B’fore it gets too dark.”
Wilbur knows he should, but he shakes his head helplessly. “I don’t want to let go.”
“Wil. Wil, hey.” Techno smiles, lifting his chained hands to grasp Wilbur’s arm carefully. “M’right here. Y… y’gotta start a fire, ‘kay? Dad’s comin’ but we need t’stay warm. N’this’ll help Dad find us.”
“Okay.” He blinks, trying to fight back tears. “Okay. I- just a minute. In one minute, I just- I need-”
Techno squeezes his arm. Wilbur takes a sharp breath, doubling over to rest his head on his twin’s shoulder. Just to try to steady himself, just for a minute to be closer to his twin.
“Wil.”
Wilbur hums, adjusting Techno in his arms, shifting both of them closer to the fire. It’s pitch dark by now; he’s taken care of everything, bringing the horses closer to the fire and taking a weapon from one of the bodies in the cabin. A crow is perched on one of the saddles Wilbur took off the horses, just watching them. It’s somewhat comforting- Phil is coming. He’s coming.
“D’you… have anythin’ to eat?”
“No, sorry… I left in a hurry.”
“Oh.” Techno sighs, eyes closing again. “S’okay.”
Wilbur is seized by a horrible realization- Techno is so thin that Wilbur can feel the sharp juts of his bones. He’s too light- too narrow and light and thin.
“Did- Tech, did they feed you? At all?”
Techno is silent. Wilbur’s heart just breaks, and he holds his twin tighter with a soft sob.
“Wil- Wil, no, don’t cry.” Techno tries to lift his arms again, but he lets them fall back almost immediately. “Can… water?”
Wilbur nods, fumbling for his canteen and tipping some more water into Techno’s mouth. The leather canteen is nearly empty- gods he hopes Phil gets here soon, hopes he’ll have more water. And food. Because Techno- Techno seems so weak, he’s so thin, he’s hurt and covered in blood.
“They… they thought you had magic,” Wilbur whispers.
“B’cause m’hair’s…”
“Inhuman features and magic,” he breathes. “Yes, I know.”
Techno nods. “N’I… I didn’ tell them I wasn’t. They would’ve… hurt you. ‘r Tommy.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do that.” Tears spill down his face again. “Not for me, Techno. You could’ve- we would have been safe, we would’ve been fine, but you-”
“They’d’a killed me,” Techno rasps. “An’ gone after you. S’long as they thought they had what they wanted… we were all safe. An’ I knew you’d come.”
Wilbur shakes his head, holds Techno tighter.
The moon is dipping towards the horizon, and Wilbur still has not slept, when he finally hears hoofbeats.
His first feeling is relief- Phil is coming- and then fear.
Because it might not be their father. It could be a member of the gang that kidnapped Techno, coming back-
There’s nothing he can do if it isn’t Phil. There’s nothing Wilbur can do at all, except to crouch over his sleeping twin and try to shelter him with his own body.
The hoofbeats get louder and louder, mutliplying in the quiet of the night, and Wilbur’s fear only grows. Until-
“Wil!” His father is suddenly running towards them, clothing in disarray, desperation etched on his face.
“Dad,” Wilbur sobs, reaching out with one arm, keeping the other tucked around Techno’s chest. “Dad, Dad-”
“Oh gods, oh gods- Wilbur that was so fucking stupid don’t you ever do anything like that again-” Phil drops to the ground, bundling them both into his arms. “Techno, Tech, mate, are you-”
“He’s breathing,” Wilbur says. “He was awake, he fell asleep a while ago, he’s breathing, he’s alive, but Dad they starved him and they hurt him and I don’t know- I don’t-”
“Okay, okay, I’m here now. It’s gonna be okay.” Phil looks away, waving to someone. “The medics are here, mate, okay, they’re gonna take Techno-”
“No,” he whimpers, wrapping both arms around Techno’s chest, pulling him closer. Techno stirs, exhaling softly. “No, don’t let them take him-”
“Wilbur, listen to me.” Phil cups his head with both hands. “We’ve brought a wagon, the medics are going to take Techno over there, where they can treat him. You can go with him, you only have to let go of him for a minute, okay?”
Wilbur nods, whimpering softly. “D-don’t take him away from me.”
“Shh, Wil, I know.” Phil cups the back of his head, pulling him closer to rest their foreheads together. “No one’s taking him from you.”
The medics make Wilbur let go, but Phil holds him, guides him along beside Techno all the way into the cart. Wilbur scrambles up and inside, crouching behind his twin and cupping his head as he stirs.
“Wh…”
“I’m here,” Wilbur breathes, leaning down to rest his head against his twin’s. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
Techno lets out a softly whimpering breath, chains clanking as he raises his hands a bit and lets them fall again. “Wil.”
“I’m here. Shh, shh, I’m here, don’t move. Just don’t move.”
Someone hangs a lantern from the spokes of the wagon, and another medic calls for someone to find keys. They’re cutting Techno’s shirt off, talking about potions, and Wilbur can barely breathe.
“Stay with me,” he whispers. “Stay with me.”
“M’here.” Techno stares up at him, still so trusting. “S’okay, Wil. S’okay.”
Someone brings the keys. The cuffs are taken off and thrown aside and they’re telling Wilbur they need to give Techno a potion. He guides his twin upright, resting Techno’s head on his shoulder. He doesn’t want anyone else to touch him- he can’t stop them, but he can do this.
Techno drinks the potions they give him, letting his head fall back again as soon as he’s finished. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you. Wil, you… you staying?”
Wilbur rests his head against Techno’s, nodding. “Yes,” he whispers. “I’m not moving.”
~~~
Techno rouses slowly.
He’s warm. There are arms around him, a warm body pressed to his side, a steady heartbeat under his ear. The Voices are whispering and murmuring in his ears, so quiet that it doesn’t really make his head hurt worse.
“Wil,” he sighs, without even bothering to open his eyes, a familiar warmth curling in his chest.
Wilbur gasps, hugging him closer. “I’m here, Techno, I’m here.”
“Home?”
“We’re home. We’re home, you’re safe.” Wilbur exhales shakily. “You- you’re going to be okay. Just- just rest, okay?”
He thinks he’s hungry… he’s tired, but he’s hungry, he’s pretty sure. Somehow there’s no pain…
He blinks at the rich, deep blue canopy and curtains of his own bed. Wilbur’s there, when Techno drags his gaze upward- his head resting on Techno’s, gaze fixed on him.
“Hi,” he exhales.
“Hi,” Wilbur whispers back.
“M’I… potions?”
“Yeah, they gave you slowness yesterday in the wagon. Something pretty hefty, I think, you were out after a few minutes and slept most of the way home. And another when you woke up a bit, but you seemed pretty out of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember.”
Techno hums, closing his eyes with a sigh as Wilbur’s thin fingers card through his hair. “Did you… wash my hair?”
“Mhm.” Wilbur’s voice turns sad. “I’m sorry they cut it, Tech.”
“S’hair. It’ll grow back.” He sighs. “C’n’I… m’hungry.”
Wilbur reaches away, pulling the rarely-used cord to summon a servant. “They’ll get you something,” he says. “The healers say to start with broth and gradually work up to real food, it’ll be easier on your stomach.”
Techno nods, reaching up and clasping one hand around Wilbur’s wrist. “You’ll stay?”
“Yes, I’ll stay.” Wilbur hugs him tighter for a second. “I’m not leaving your side.”