Chapter Text
Technoblade slept in two kind of ways.
The first was like a cat nap. He would doze with his instincts on high alert. From this one he could and would snap awake and go for his axe –which was naturally within arm’s reach- in the tiniest of sounds. This method was most of the time utilized on the road and enemy territory. Occasionally for alleged friendly ground too.
The second one was like hibernation that no commotion could break him out of. He always had to check the date when he rose from that one, just to make sure he hadn’t slept through some sort of apocalyptic event. He would have been so mad if someone had decided to bring on the apocalypse without inviting him, mind you. That one was for whatever he considered to be his own house at the time. At the moment, this happened to be the wooden shack in the snowy side of Dream SMP. He had Phil next door and a bunch of animals all over the place to feel safe enough for his body to shut off completely.
Sure, the animals weren’t going to actually do anything if someone broke in, but they did look intimidating to the average viewer and boy did they stare. They also made a lot of noise whenever someone entered the premises, which was completely irrelevant if Techno was in his deep sleep state but hopefully Phil, or now Ranboo too might take notice of the ruckus and intervene before he was assassinated in his sleep.
To be fair, The Blade was the kind of person that always drew dangers in but at least if he was killed while sleeping in his own bed, it would make a pretty funny story. All the legends of how fearsome Technoblade was and how he never dies only for them to end with “and then he was stabbed to death while he was drooling on his pillow,” anticlimactic, sure, but hilarious.
Dreams were a scarce event.
Most nights Techno was floating into complete, blissful darkness and thank whatever Gods existed out there for granting him that mercy. It was one of the rare moments where his brain decided to let him catch a damn break and actually rest. Silence and peace were more precious and rare than enchanted golden apples on this server. Even when he attempted seclusion and retirement the voices still found reasons to chatter away like the little nuisances they were.
There wasn’t even anything interesting for them to go off about. He was just farming turtles yet there they were, a pestering noise that snuck on him at the most random of times. He still wasn’t sure what exactly triggered them but he had learned that questioning them and waiting for a general consensus was futile or misleading in most cases. Borderline disturbing in others, when they would force him to question his own beliefs with their clairvoyance.
Techno had decided to just be grateful when they would finally shut up.
On the occasions he did dream it was disjointed, which is pretty typical dream logic he had heard. He could be jumping from battles in the pit, to flying over the vast seas of the Antarctic Empire, to the ruins of L'manburg, to other rehashed memories or random sceneries he didn’t recognize. There were also some of those obscure dreams where nothing makes sense, shapes and colors and faces and events with no pattern, rhyme or reason. He found those oddly fascinating, they gave him something unpredictable and mindless to observe.
There was another type of dreams too, ones of more personal and intimate nature.
Those were pretty common among people and hybrids alike, he knew that. Most sentient beings have them. They had started when he was a teenager but at one point in his life they took a specific turn and never looked back.
At the time he had thought it was a onetime thing, hoped it was a onetime thing. He and Philza had been spending too much time together as they were taking over a planet, it wasn’t unreasonable to dream of him. Techno hadn’t been with anyone intimately for a while too, so the sentiments had probably tangled somewhere and it resulted in his subconscious mind producing something that had him unable to look Philza in the eye the following morning.
By the end of that day the images had faded from his memory –as dreams tend to do when you don’t put any effort into recalling them- and the day went on as usual but a few nights later it happened again.
More followed.
There was only so many times he could pretend his awake self felt nothing about the image of Phil spread under him and that this was just a case of sleepy overreacting desire paired with an imagination that enjoyed torturing him. Lying to himself was taking its toll, he was losing sleep. Most importantly though, it was affecting the way he treated Philza. He was pulling away, finding excuses to avoid spending time with his friend and judging by the questioning smiles and side glances he was receiving, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
It could have been for the best.
Their friendship had been a wonderful trip but if it was to end, Techno would rather remember it as it was, untainted by thoughts that felt like a betrayal of trust. He didn’t want Phil to ever find out, he didn’t want to see what the fond gazes would twist into if he knew. Better let the two of them gradually slip away from each other with no explanation, let what they had fade.
Techno had done this before. Phil had to have done it as well, it came with their way of life and the pace of it. People walked in and out of their lives, or they walked in and out of theirs because their paths happened to cross momentarily. Some were left behind without fuss or explanation.
The problem was, Phil and Techno were in synch.
Their routines, their battles, their rhythms, the way they challenged Death, toyed with her and taunted her like children in a playground, all beautifully choreographed to match the other and their spirit. Their harmonizing had flourished naturally, without conscious thoughts and questions. It just happened. It had become integrated to their life. The idea that Techno could have walked off this stage unnoticed as if he was a passing audience member that got bored of the play had been a naïve illusion.
* * *
“Techno, did I do something wrong?”
Technoblade had been on his way downhill in his latest attempt to escape that very voice and everything that came with it. He stopped promptly at the call all the same, like he always did.
Philza stood by the entrance of their fortress in the Arctic Empire, the morning light reflecting through the crystals surrounding him like a halo. Techno had to scrunch up his eyes as he turned. As comfortable as he had gotten there, a valley of ice and snow truly hadn’t been the best idea for headquarters for a creature whose natural habitat was subterranean caverns among rivers of lava. It was always too bright in the mornings and too cold at all times. Techno’s eyes stung as he blinked against the sun.
One wing unfurled providing a makeshift shade that allowed Technoblade to face his companion.
In the time they had known each other Techno had grown used to the range of emotions Phil allowed to show always being somewhere between joyful and thoughtful. When Techno gazed upon him that day he just looked tired. Despite what the shiny black feathering spread majestically in full display suggested, Phil looked disturbingly human.
Technoblade’s stomach twisted with guilt much more prevalent than the one that came with the dreams he couldn’t control or the heartbeat that upped with any lingering touches that made him forget reality. The cold that spread through his veins had nothing to do with the chilly air and everything to do with the way Philza’s features twitched. It was like watching the strings of a stretched rope coming undone without knowing how many were left before it snapped completely.
The arrogant fighter with snipe remarks and biting speeches always ready, as if he had them stockpiled, found himself unable to breathe, let alone speak under the earnest look and the dangling of a simple question. If he stood there long enough, maybe a snowstorm would come and make him part of the scenery, hide him forever so he wouldn’t have to be the one to run.
He didn’t run yet, he stayed, but the urge was still there like a primal instinct.
Rays of sunlight peeked through long feathers as the elder being moved, descended, stepping closer to Techno until they stood on equal ground. With the sun beside them, the wings folded neatly behind their owner, humbling Philza’s whole presence.
“Have I done something to upset you? Are you angry at me?”
In the battlefield you saw too many meet their end. Some were old, some were young, some were ready to go, some were not, some went crying, some went laughing, some went begging, some went with an empty look that suggested they were dead before their heart stopped beating. Some watched calmly as you approached to deliver the final blow, knowing what’s coming and gracefully accepting it with their head held up high.
It was that last image that flashed in Techno’s mind as he looked at Philza then and it was the discomfort of that association that brought him back to his body.
“I am not angry at you,” Techno chose to blame the weather for the hoarseness in his voice.
“But I did do something wrong,” Phil concluded, inclining his head, “what was it? What did I do?” he asked it like a prisoner in death row would ask his executioner for some extra salt to season his final meal.
The wrongness in Techno’s gut only intensified.
If they were fighting a war, Techno would have put himself between Philza and the line of fire. If they were starving on a secluded island with no means of escape, Techno would have offered his rations and not only. If Phil’s wings and legs were broken, Techno would have carried him. Techno wasn’t the best at consoling people but any worries Philza had, he would have listened. If Philza had asked for the world, Techno would have found a way to give it to him.
There was no enemy at the moment though. No monsters, no flying arrows, no wounds, no petty complaints about mobs or faraway looks speaking of an estranged son and a wife taken too soon.
No hurt that Techno could sooth or threat he could fight, because he was both. He did not understand the looks, he did not understand the words or why Philza looked as if he was the one that had something to apologize for but he knew he was the cause. For the first time, it felt like the two of them run with unsynchronized narratives but it didn’t matter. In his own narrative things begun to fall into place and another feeling came to join the guilt that had been lodged in Technoblade’s chest.
It had a bittersweet taste.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Phil,” his reply had been spoken softly. A tone caused not by the instinctive gentleness that came naturally whenever he address Philza, but by all his energy suddenly abandoning his body like it was a sinking ship. Technoblade had little experience with defeat but he recognized it instantly. In any other day he would have fought but on this day, he let it consume him, accepting it as the inevitability it was.
Experience had taught him to pick his battles and this battle had been lost a long time ago.
Philza expression shifted from curious surprise to concern and Techno knew he was doomed.
“What is wrong then, old friend?”
Why are you pushing me away?
Phil didn’t say it, but Techno heard it loud and clear. He opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words so he lowered his head. Hopefully the buzzing in his ears would cease long enough for him to find an answer.
Snow crunched and Techno caught the edge of Phil’s shoes as they came in view. Philza had swapped his sandals for boots because Technoblade had been complaining that he was freezing just from watching him. When asked if he couldn’t feel the cold himself, Philza had laughed and said he actually could but because he spent most time inside the fortress he kept forgetting about the snow outside and by the time he was out he felt it too much of a hassle to go back. Later he had thanked Techno for reminding him to change that habit before he lost a toe to frostbite.
“Techno,” gentle and warm, like the hand that came to cup his cheek and in a moment of weakness, Techno leaned into it, letting his eyelids flutter closed for just a moment. When he forced them open once more, Philza’s expression flickered and whatever had been there was gone before Techno could put a name on it. It was replaced with a look that made him wonder if Phil could feel his pain through the place they touched.
“Talk to me,” he implored in a whisper.
It wasn’t a question but a request and therefore Techno found his voice and complied. Because everything Philza asked for, Technoblade would give, and if he played a bit with the technicalities of vaguety it was only because some things weren’t as important as others.
“Nothing is wrong. I’ve just had a lot to think about, you know how I get when I’m focusing on a task.”
“I do know how you get,” a bitter smile accompanied that statement and Techno was both ashamed and relieved with what Phil was truly telling him.
You can’t lie to me but I’m willing to humor you if you need me to.
Philza’s hand withdrew and it took everything in him for Techno not to chase after it. Instead he watched as his friend dragged his step up the snow, slow and subdued, unlike his usual trot. The ends of his longer feathers were leaving drag marks on the snow behind him and before he was far enough to be enveloped by light once more, he gave one last look at Techno and offered a painfully forced smile.
“Be safe on the hunt, mate. It’s dangerous out there.”
Techno’s breath caught in his chest. Philza retreated in the ice cavern.
By the standards of their location it was a relatively warm day but Technoblade had never felt colder.
Come back safe.
These were the words Philza always used to see him off whenever he went out before. Words that Techno had never thought twice of, taking them for granted but now missing them like the hand on his cheek. It was one of the few times Technoblade would have been grateful if the voices were active. A distraction would have been welcome. Despite how much they annoyed him sometimes they fooled his loneliness.
Technoblade turned and finished his descend towards the ocean, looking out across the open world and the call of the ones beyond it.
Phil hadn’t said it but Techno had heard it.
You can leave if you want.
With his trident in hand, Techno jumped in the water and soon he was leaping through forests, jungles, volcanoes, seas and skies alike with no intended destination.
Phil was a legend.
Technoblade had heard stories of the undying winged warrior long before they met. The awe they inspired had been infectious and Technoblade had been cautious to admire but eager to witness. Philza hadn’t been what he had expected but he had been more of a surprise than a disappointment. A tale that had been altered as it traveled from one audience to the next through history that he somehow got a hold of the original texts of and had the opportunity to experience on his own in its purest form.
Having Phil on his side had given him a rush of energy unlike the ones he got in the midst of battle when the voices demanded blood. It had been giddy and curious. The feeling of exploration and discovery for hidden treasures incorporated into a person.
Fighting side by side with someone who could finally match his stride had been a delight on its own. But knowing Philza, spending time with him, growing closer, making jokes, causing chaos had been a breath of fresh air, a first step through a portal to the Overworld after a lifetime wandering in the Nether. It had been like a piece had come to fill a void in his life he hadn’t even been aware was empty.
It had become a joke between them a while ago that Techno would sing Phil’s praises at every corner and from the top of every mountain. Talk about his achievements, his skills, his greatness. Techno talked about Philza with stars in his eyes. Every word rolled off his tongue effortlessly in the same way he would have pointed out that the sun rose in the East and set in the West. Words exaggerated and layered with humor which didn’t change that they were universal truths in Techno’s world.
In retrospect he should have realized it sooner.
Technoblade had never loved anything like he loved Philza.
Acceptance came much more easily than he had expected. Once he admitted it to himself it had been like every raving emotion he had been battling for weeks had been appeased. A hurricane had come to pass and when it was over the restored peacefulness that used to be the norm felt like a blessing. Somehow what it had left behind had felt like an appropriate, long overdue rearrangement despite the shambles.
Techno couldn’t recall the last time in his life that he had felt so content.
There was no happiness or sadness, just an overwhelming sense of normalcy. Everything was suddenly exactly where it was supposed to be and the universe made more sense than ever. It would keep on going and Techno finally had some deeper understanding of it all.
Another law of the universe discovered.
* * *
He returned home on the third sunset.
Philza was in his chambers, cleaning his sword. Judging by the smell of blood in the air and the stains on Phil’s clothes it had been used recently. Techno caught the glimpse of surprise before Philza schooled his expression to neutrality that gradually shifted into a practiced smile.
“Welcome back,” he said like he had on every day past.
Techno nodded in response, “have you eaten?”
Philza’s features softened and his smile became more sincere. There was a warm emotion there that Techno couldn’t place, “I might have neglected to.”
Techno gave another nod and shrugged to showcase the slain deer draped over his shoulder, “I’ll make us dinner.”
“That sounds lovely, mate.”
Techno never felt the urge to run again and it didn’t take long for them to fall back to their usual pace. In the weeks that followed Phil gave him a lot of looks that spoke of questions, but he never voiced them and therefore Techno never answered them. Soon the whole thing was forgotten, or at least ignored skillfully enough that they could both pretend it didn’t exist or had always been there.
On the occasions they had to split to different worlds before that point they had left each other with the promise of meeting up again kept to it faithfully. It was never a “goodbye,” or an unsure “one day,” but a confident “I’ll be seeing you soon.” The only thing that changed after that point was the finality in those promises. Techno knew that he would defy all odds and win every battle to get back to Philza. The gleam in his Phil’s eyes told Techno that his friend would cheat on Death a thousand times over to do the same.
And so they did.
The dreams didn’t completely stop but they became rarer. They were like any other dream now. Other than the sizzling mess they left him in, Techno had grown numb to them.
The messaged that they had been trying to deliver had been received.