Chapter Text
It happened all at once, on no special day. One day they were perfectly fine and the next they were plagued with bloodthirsty whispers that ate away at their every rational thought. It was horrifyingly quick and no doctor nor witch knew what had caused it no matter how hard the family searched.
It was terrifying.
Surprisingly, it started with Wilbur. On a cold, winter night where the only sound in the house was the quiet hum of the fire and the soft melody coming from Wilbur’s guitar along with Tommy’s off-key singing. A calm, soft evening.
That illusion was quickly shattered by a stunted scream and a thump, both coming from Wilbur’s room. Phil dropped the spoon he was using to stir the hot cocoa instantly, watching with slight pride as Techno jumped out of his seat and practically sprinted up the stairs.
Phil followed, stopping only to grab a sword that he always kept nearby. He trusted Techno to hold off any intruder until he could get there to protect his kids from the danger.
It was ironic, really, that his kids ended up being the danger.
Rushing through the thrown-open door into Wilbur’s room, he stopped dead in his tracks at the scene in front of him.
Wilbur was in one corner, Tommy huddled in the other. His youngest had blood streaming down his face, mixing with tears rapidly and he didn’t hesitate before he made his way over and began checking for the wound.
Once he’d determined it was shallow, he hesitantly turned to look at his two eldest. Techno was holding Wilbur’s wrists (despite the other being near-limp in Techno’s grasp) and the realisation that Phil wasn’t sure whether he was protecting Tommy or Wilbur was enough to spur on the thought that something was very, very wrong.
“Tommy, can you go downstairs and get a healing potion? I’ll come down and help in a minute, I promise sunshine.” Phil’s voice wavered but he pressed on, silently promising to get Tommy his favourite chocolate later when the boy silently agreed and slipped out of the room unnoticed.
Phil paused, still grasping for answers on what had happened. He put it out of his mind for now, crossing the room to get to the twins. He’d just knelt down next to Wilbur, a hand reaching out in an offer of comfort when the boy suddenly began to writhe and struggle ferociously.
Before he could even register what that meant, one of Wilbur’s clawed hands had slipped out of Techno’s grip and carved into Phil’s arm. The man recoiled immediately and as soon as he stepped away, Wilbur went limp again. Techno wasn’t even holding his arms anymore, he was putting up no fight.
He shared a wide-eyed glance with Techno. He knew he couldn’t get close enough to draw the boy away from his twin; he was too frozen in shock to do it himself. “Techno just stay still, okay?” He forced his voice to sound strong, for himself if not for his boys. “It’s going to be alright.”
“I don’t think he’s going to hurt me dad.” Techno’s voice was barely a whisper but it sounded far more confident than Phil’s.
Phil nodded, eyes periodically glancing back over to Wilbur’s form. If it wasn’t for what he’d already seen, Phil would assume he was just unconscious, or worse. He was scarily still.
“If you move away from him, do you think he’ll get.. ‘upset’ again?” Phil asked, almost reluctant to know the answer.
Techno grimaced and Phil immediately knew this was going to be harder than he wanted to deal with right now. “I’m not leaving him.”
“Techno,” Phil said firmly “I don’t feel safe leaving you here alone with him while he’s like.. this.”
“I’m not leaving him.” Techno growled
Letting out a long sigh, Phil relented. He knew arguing with Techno would get him nowhere, especially when he really needed to get to Tommy soon. “Fine, I trust you. You know how to defend yourself if you need to. Yell for me and I'll come running, okay?
Techno nodded silently before putting all his attention back on his twin. Taking the opportunity, Phil slowly backed away and closed the door behind him. He considered locking it, just in case, but batted the thought away as soon as it came. That was his son , even if he wasn’t acting as he normally would. He wasn’t an animal to be locked away.
Temporarily putting Wilbur and Techno out of his mind, Phil hastily made his way down the stairs. He didn’t even stop to get a healing potion for his own arm, the sluggishly bleeding cut far from the top of his priorities.
His heart somehow broke more when he saw Tommy curled up on the kitchen counters, eyes glassy and red with the healing potion sat just next to him. The youngest blonde perked up when he caught sight of Phil coming in and a fresh wave of tears started cascading down his face. Phil pulled the boy into a hug immediately.
“Dad, you’re bleeding” Tommy croaked out from where Phil was very gently pressing his head to his chest, being careful not to aggravate the wound more.
Phil nodded with a soft laugh, picking up the healing potion and a cloth and getting to work. “You are too bud, I'll take care of myself after.”
“Promise?” Tommy asked and Phil softened at the pure childish hope in his son’s voice.
“I promise, sunshine.” His forced smile was waning, trying to ignore that he was currently healing a wound on his youngest caused by one of his eldest. Trying to ignore the whole situation, really. He’d skipped anger and gone straight to denial.
Seeming to accept that for now, Tommy hummed and let Phil carefully dab the potion-soaked cloth onto the wound. Soft apologies were muttered everytime Tommy winced, barely breaking the quiet atmosphere that had grown. An oddity, while Tommy was in the room but one that Phil appreciated right now nonetheless.
“Dad?” Phil looked up “What’s- what’s happening with Wilbur?”
Phil let out a breath, closing his eyes. He knew the question would come eventually.
“I’m really not sure, Toms. We’re going to have to be careful around him for a bit, I might have to take him to see a doctor.”
“But he’ll be okay, right?” Tommy pressed, eyebrows creasing in worry.
The hesitance in Phil’s voice was enough to say otherwise. “I hope so, sunshine. I really hope so.”
*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*
Phil was very careful to separate Wilbur from Tommy and Techno when he wasn’t around after what he’d started dubbing as ‘the incident.
He wasn’t particularly sure if he was happy or not to find out that during Wilbur’s episodes, he would never hurt Techno. Sure, it meant that his other son was safe but it put far more responsibility on the boy’s shoulders than he wanted to put there.
It didn’t matter in the end. Techno started having similar episodes not a week after Wilbur’s first one and a very clear split started forming in the household.
Wilbur and Techno. Phil and Tommy.
The two started talking about ‘the voices’. Apparently they were unrelenting and violent, demanding blood for some sort of supposed god when something happened that displeased them in the slightest. They were spurred on by the twins’ own negative emotions, causing the two to become strained and snappish when something didn’t go their way.
That didn’t mean he didn’t try at every opportunity to help the twins. Constant meetings with mages from far lands, potions, spells, magic items, Phil had tried everything. He’d collected a vast array of scars from holding one of the two tightly when all they were trying to do was scratch and bite.
He had a particularly nasty one on his neck for when Techno had really gone for the kill. He remembered vividly how the boy had immediately frozen, snapping out of his haze for a few moments to just stare at the blood spilling down his father’s chest before Wilbur had run in to hold him down and let Phil quickly escape.
It never deterred him from trying, though. He’d endure hundreds of scars if it meant he could lift some of the weight from his sons’ shoulders. Never did he want them to think that the responsibility for their twin lied solely on themselves.
Tommy was another piece of the puzzle and a difficult one at that. The boy never seemed to actually understand that his brothers were dangerous and Phil had to physically shield him one too many times when he accidentally triggered one of his brothers episodes with his naturally loud personality. His back was marred with furious scratches and his front was covered in bruises and tear stains.
He rarely ever left Tommy alone these days, terrified as to what would happen if his youngest was to come face to face with one of the twins when he wasn’t there. Phil was a grown adult who was once a war hero, he could hold back even Techno if he needed to but Tommy was young and so so very small. He wouldn’t stand a chance.
The refusal to leave his youngest alone was only spurred on by the many close calls the family had had. The aftermath was always messy, needing to tend to Tommy’s and his own wounds while also patiently waiting for the voices to calm down so he could provide comfort.
“I'm sorry” Wilbur sobbed into the crook of his neck. “Im sorry, Im sorry”
Phil’s arms wrapped tightly around him, hands carding through his hair. “It’s okay, it's okay. Breathe, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
When his breathing only picked up, Phil held him somehow tighter and rested his chin on Wilbur’s head.
“You can’t control it. Nobody here is mad at you or upset about what happened.” He said softly, hoping at least some of his words would get through.
“I’m mad at me! I keep fucking hurting Tommy, dad I keep hurting you!” Wilbur drew back a little, forcing Phil to look him in the eyes as tears flowed from them.
“There’s nothing we can do to control it, Will. It’s not your fault” Phil reassured “We’ll find a way to control it somehow.”
“Nothing we’ve tried is working! It’s fucking hopeless!” Wilbur collapsed back into Phil’s chest. “I’m sorry! I'm trying, I’m sorry!”
Phil froze up, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “Wilbur. It’s not hopeless, you are not hopeless! I’m not giving up on you or your brother.”
“You should”
Phil could feel the tears fall down his face and frantically wiped them away. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you fucking dare say that.”
It got harder every time as he had less and less reasons to give them. Less and less hope that things would end up ok and that they’d find some miracle cure that would get rid of the voices.
Internally, Phil was already preparing himself for a lifetime of this. If he stopped lying to himself, he knew he had lost hope for change a while ago.
*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*
There was someone in the house. They were not meant to be in the house.
Wilbur and Techno had both had an ‘episode’ the day before (at different times, thank Prime) and there tended to be a two to three day gap between each one so Phil had taken the golden opportunity to go restock on supplies.
Wilbur was sure this was a good thing, it meant Phil was still comfortable leaving them alone with Tommy -his brother, his baby brother he’s hurt so much- after everything.
It meant Phil still trusted them, still loved them after everything.
It’s not like the older man didn’t tell them that, he spent hours comforting them each and every time the voices took over and reminding them that he loved them, that he wasn’t mad.
Actions just spoke louder than words.
Right now he really wished Phil didn’t trust him. Wished he’d taken Tommy with him despite how much the boy would protest it (Tommy hated the village, it was too loud) because there was someone in the house and Techno had tackled them and suddenly there was blood flying everywhere and he’d had to dive to cover Tommy’s eyes before he saw too much.
It didn’t do much really, Tommy could still hear everything happening and it might have been even scarier hearing it all without being able to see. Nothing Wilbur could do would be able to stop him from hearing, the child having been gifted with better hearing as a part of his hybrid nature. Moving him to a different room was out of the question, Wilbur was currently using all of his energy to not let the blood smell overwhelm him.
He was the only barrier between Tommy and Techno and the realisation was terrifying. Knowing that this was how Phil felt constantly? It just doubled down on the self hatred he was sure was shared between himself and his twin.
Tommy was squirming, trying to get out of his grip and Wilbur just let him. He couldn’t move anymore, body completely frozen and eyes transfixed on his twin still tearing apart the still corpse.
He could vaguely hear his brother still crying and talking to someone (over the comms? He didn’t hear anyone else come in.) before he was quickly distracted by the steadily building voices.
Join in
Hurt
Can we kill the kid yet
Kill
Blood for the Blood God
Join Techno
Blood for the Blood God
Blood
Please kill the child
Y’all are fucked up
Blood
Kill
Blood for the Blood God
He was trying not to give into them. He was! He always tried, he didn’t want to hurt his brother or his dad; please, he didn’t want to hurt them.
They’re just in our way
They’re not worth it
Blood for the Blood God
Blood
They’re annoying anyway
I like them
Blood
Blood for the Blood God
The world was becoming a blur. His head felt like there were knives inside it but he had to hold on. As long as he was nearby, Techno couldn’t accidentally hurt Tommy. Hands (were they his?) clutched at his head, begging, pleading for the voices to quiet.
It could have been days or mere minutes but the second he heard the front door open, frantic steps racing into the room he knew he was done for. Phil being there was good -It meant Tommy was safe- but the voices picked up on it immediately and it wasn’t long before his vision went black.
----------
Phil had never sprinted home so fast, abandoning the stall he’d been at as soon as Tommy called him, sobbing and terrified.
He was so, so proud of his youngest and he hoped he’d have time to tell him that as he slammed the front door open, dashed into the side room and took in the scene in front of him.
The dead body barely registered in his mind, nor the way Techno was still tearing and slicing despite it looking long dead. Wilbur was standing stock-still and he knew it wasn’t long before he’d succumb to the voices too.
He dodged Techno’s clawed leap before his mind even caught up to it and scooped Tommy into his arms, running out the room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him - every door had a lock these days, Phil made sure of it.
Scratches against the wood quickly made themselves known and it took every fibre of strength left in his body not to fling open the door and hold the boys ( his boys) in his arms.
He couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t hold down Techno and Wilbur while still keeping an eye on Tommy and live to tell the tale. Trapping them without any way to ground themselves hurt but he knew the guilt afterwards would hurt more if they ended up badly injuring (or worse) their brother or father.
All he could do was sit against the door with Tommy still sobbing on his lap, resting his chin in the blonde curls and hoping, pleading that things would turn out okay. Begging the gods for any small mercy.
But the gods don’t listen to the pleas of mortals. They sit on golden thrones in lavish castles and have never had to spend a day of their life patching injuries given to them by their own sons. Never had to spend a day wondering if exorcism was the way to go or if that would end up hurting the children they held so dear.
The gods had never been more out of reach.
*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*
It happened again.
It was so much worse this time.
Phil wasn’t even sure what triggered it. One second Tommy was perched on the windowsill, quietly (he was being quiet, why-) naming the birds he saw and then he was on the ground, screaming with his leg bent very, very wrong.
The next few moments were a blur, wrestling Techno away from Tommy, scooping the youngest into his arms in a protective hold and slamming the door shut behind him.
He found himself once again sat against the door, cradling his sobbing youngest in his lap who had sustained an injury that he should have never had to. His youngest who wasn’t even in double digits yet.
Something snapped. The thin yet long, raised scars littering his child’s body seemed to be all the more noticeable through the lens of terrified, uncertain parental rage. Not at his twins themselves but at what his youngest had to go through because of them.
Anyone could see that Tommy got a lot less attention than a child his age should probably get because of his brothers' ailment. And the kid never once complained, he was always understanding of why.
It wasn’t fair.
He wrapped Tommy’s leg almost mechanically, pulling the boy into a hug, gently wiping away his tears and ignoring the scratches still coming from behind the door.
“I'm so sorry sunshine. I’m so sorry” He held the boy tight to his chest. He knew what he was apologising for but he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet.
Tommy was silent but burrowed further into Phil’s chest, desperate for comfort. Phil happily offered it.
“I’m going to make things better for us. I promise you ,Toms, we’re going to be okay.” He mumbled his promise into golden curls and vowed to fulfill it no matter what.
They left the next night.
Phil spent all of the day telling the twins how much he loved them, that he would never stop loving them. Last promises to unaware children he loved so dearly. The whole day he went back and forth on his decision, trying to kid himself that maybe things would be ok if he just stayed another month, another year.
But at the same time he had to remind himself that nothing had changed, nothing had worked and the only real development was that his baby was having closer and closer calls with Lady Death.
He left most of his own money on the table, only taking what he and Tommy would absolutely need to get started in another village. Carefully written instructions on tending to the farm sat just beside them, as well as easy to cook meals. Instructions on laundry, cleaning, anything Phil could possibly think of that the twins would need to comfortably survive. He wanted them to comfortably survive.
It hurt him more than he could describe that making sure all of his children were safe meant splitting them apart.
He left a note too. Short and sweet, because he thought he might cry if he sat over the paper for too long.
‘I love you both. I do, so so much more than you will ever know and I’m so sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I’m going to do.’
‘I need to keep you all safe, physically and mentally. I can only pray some cure will find you in the coming years and we will be able to meet again with no risk of harm to anyone.’
‘I love you both. Please stay safe.’
‘-Your father’
The new house was weird. It was far too quiet without Wilbur’s guitar that he’d started stress playing whenever he was in control enough to do so.
It was far too empty without Techno’s piles of books that seemed to cover every surface because he swore he was going to read them, he just needed to find the time. (He would have the time now)
The doors weren’t marred with scratches, the walls were pristine, there were no threats. In all regards, it should have been an upgrade but he couldn’t bear to see it as one.
Tommy was in double digits now. The 10-year-old never stopped asking about his brothers and Phil would always respond the same way.
“It was for the good of both of us, sunshine. I didn’t want to, I still don’t. There’s nothing we can do.”
He held out hope everyday that his boys would find a cure so that he could hold them again and apologise for everything he’d done and hadn’t done. He knew Tommy did too, every night and he hated that he’d done that to his son.
He wasn’t sure if he regretted it, really. On one hand, he missed his boys with every bone in his body and would do anything to hold them again just for a second.
But on the other?
Tommy had friends. He talked about Tubbo and Ranboo every day when he came home from school (He went to school now!).
He could hold his son in his arms without needing to worry about old wounds reopening and ruffle his hair just because he wanted to, not because he needed to calm him down over a broken leg.
The doors didn't need locks and he could leave to restock groceries with the only worry in his mind being if Tommy had broken another plate while trying to make himself sandwiches.
The guilt ate him alive. He was sure it would continue to do that forever.
It was for Tommy.
He did it for Tommy.