Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Yo, kid.”

Tommy turned to the call reluctantly, running through potential outcomes in his head as he glanced over at the group of three that was subtly approaching him. He placed both of his hands on the straps on his backpack and sent a harsh glare their way.

“What?” Tommy spit out. He’d been in between these alleys enough to know that you didn’t ignore someone when they shouted for you, and made sure to keep them talking for as long as possible.

The one in the middle crossed his arms in an attempt to look intimidating, not that he needed much help. He was already pretty rough around the edges with the torn clothes and the tusks poking out from the corners of his mouth. Another piglin, he guessed, they seemed to be rather common now as the nether-born hybrids were less likely to freeze to death with the heavy pollution in overpopulated cities.

The problem was that most of them ended up on the streets young.

“What’s in the bag, fur ball?” He pointed to Tommy’s backpack. Tommy’s grip doubled both with the approaching threat and the obvious call out to the ears that just poked over the top of his hair.

“School stuff,” Tommy lied, not that it really mattered. “I’m just walking home, fuck off.”

“Uh-huh,” the second scoffed, looking considerably more beat up than the ringleader, though he probably took the same amount of hits as the piglin and just couldn’t take them as well. “Gotta laptop in there?”

Tommy huffed out a surprised sound. “If I had the money for one of those do you think I’d be walking home?”

“The schools sometimes give them out,” the third said, his voice quieter than the others, like he wasn’t yet used to approaching people. From the look of him, the two others probably recruited him for their intimidation factor. The guy was tall as fuck, and half of his face was darkened with stuff that almost looked like scales. Some type of reptilian hybrid, if Tommy had to guess.

“Hand over the bag, cat ears,” the leader stretched his hand out. “And we won’t hurt you.”

“I’m a raccoon, you insensitive dickheads,” Tommy hissed back. “I need this stuff, and unless you want to see how badly I failed my maths exam-”

The second guy made a grab for Tommy’s shoulder straps, and Tommy’s claws came out instinctively, scraping against the guy's skin, He flinched back with a yell, which just made the bigger guy yell and lunge for him too. Tommy kicked him where his legs parted, and he was down before he could lay a hand on him.

With a quick glance to the third of the party, Tommy turned and bolted.

There were yells that called after him, but his severely worn-down shoes didn’t falter as they hit the pavement. He turned down side streets with his backpack thudding heavily against his spine, and he didn’t even slow down before he reached a fire escape ladder that had been unlatched from above and swung himself up.

He pulled the ladder up just in time for the three of them to burst into the street Tommy ran into. He gave the two leaders a middle finger each and continued to climb.

He didn’t let himself relax until they had left the alley, and he sunk down against the crumbled brick wall of the building and breathed.

He’d have to move before nightfall. Most people tended to check their fire escapes for homeless each night in case their windows tempted a break-in. Tommy had at least a few minutes, though, the sun wasn’t exactly setting yet, and his lungs were still catching up to him.

He at least took a minute to actually unzip his backpack and take a look at what was inside to make sure it didn’t get damaged in the run. He didn’t exactly have much to his name, but everything he had picked up was valuable to him. His spare clothes seemed to have dampened the impact of anything else, like his pocket mirror and his little wooden box of shiny objects that he didn’t know the names of. His few dollars and a couple of coins were tucked safely in that inner pocket, and while the apple he picked up earlier looked bruised, it was definitely still edible.

He sighed and rested his eyes for a moment, his breath finally having evened out. He forced himself up and off of the fire escape before any little old ladies could yell at him. His ears twitched with the thought.

Back through the alleys, he made sure there was no one of significant threat in them before maneuvering his way to the only place he could feel like he called his own. He vaulted over a dumpster into a gated back garden, one that had clearly not been tended to in years, and settled himself in the little overhang of the porch where he kept his only blanket tucked in a cracked plastic bin someone had thrown away.

He sighed to himself and settled down, debating whether or not to satisfy his stomach with the apple he’d stolen earlier but ended up just pushing it away so he could eat it in the morning.

The evening dragged on into the night, and Tommy did his best to push the noises of the city away and sleep.

—

Techno looked at the poster with a frown.

Things like this occasionally popped up, every few months or so there would be a new advertisement posted in alleys where no one normally would dare to go, but every one on the streets used them like subway systems. They always had dark coloring so they didn’t catch people’s eyes, but if you knew what you were looking for, you could always find it.

The rings knew what they were doing by targeting the poor. They were looking for that survival instinct, that hungry look they wouldn’t get in anyone else. They were looking for the hard-plated fear and the unwillingness to let themselves die.

The problem was that, nowadays, every veteran of the back alleys avoided this stuff, and in most cases, they ended up targeting children.

Every time something like this popped up, Techno took it upon himself to get rid of every advertisement he could find and rip them to pieces. The faster they ran out of contestants, the faster they went out of business.

He just never knew if he got all of them in the end.

—

Tommy held the sheet of paper in his hands and struggled to read the large lettering. It was something like “ win a fight, earn a title, get rich” with a bunch of dollar signs floating everywhere and an address posted. He bit the inside of his cheek as he steadily worked through all of the words, just giving up when he got to the super small print at the bottom. It had made its point anyway.

It meant that Tommy could get money, which was something he needed rather desperately at this point. He had maybe twenty dollars tucked away in the backpack he carried with him everywhere, and he knew that if his stealing somehow got derailed it would only last him maybe a week at best. He needed food, after all, and each time he went to the motel down the street they would make him pay a quarter to use their bathroom.

So, money. Great, he was already sold, how did he sign up?

As he walked down the streets to try to find the address he thought about his chances in a ring. Clearly, if he was pinned up against someone significantly bigger than him it wouldn’t take much to knock him down. In an even setting, though, his hybrid features were more useful than some others. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to stand up to a brute piglin or some kind of venomous hybrid, but he had claws and teeth at the very least. He knew which places to kick and how to throw a punch. The trick would just be to take as little hits as possible so he could continue it, and eventually, he’d work up enough money to live off of.

Right?

He stopped in front of the building that the poster advertised. It didn’t look like much, some crappy brick building with frosted windows and a heavy metal door. He pulled at the handle, not surprised that it didn’t open for him, and just resigned to knocking on the metal in hopes that someone would hear him.

Someone did, in fact, hear him.

“Well, well,” the man poked his head out of the doorway. “Someone found a poster.”

He was short, but it didn’t look like his lack of height bothered him at all. He wore a white shirt with suspenders, and a blue beanie was pressing on black hair. When he smiled, three of his teeth blinked back gold.

“I want in,” Tommy held out the paper advertisement. “How do I sign up?”

The man closed the metal door behind him, leaning against it. “I’m gonna need to ask you a few questions first.”

Tommy sighed internally but nodded. There was no way something like this was legal, so of course they’d verify that he wasn’t about to snitch on them to the cops.

“Do you have parents?”

Tommy scoffed. “Does it look like I have parents?”

“It’s just standard procedure, kiddo,” the man grinned. “But I already like you. How about school?”

“Nope,” Tommy popped the p for emphasis.

“How are your relations with the cops?”

Tommy snorted. “If I went anywhere near them they’d stick me in a foster placement again. Trust me, starving on the streets is way better than starving in a locked room I share with five other people.”

Despite the dark undertones, the man chuckled. “Soon you won’t have to starve at all, bud. My name’s Quackity,” he held out his hand and Tommy took it to shake. “How well do you think you can fight?”

Tommy smiled. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but—”

“Quackity,” a person called out from a decent distance. The two of them turned carefully, with Quackity looking much more pissed off than he was before.

Tommy locked eyes with a man leaning against a lamppost not too far away. His form was covered by a well-worn jacket, his arms crossed as a heavy expression settled over his brow. Scars accompanied the piglin features over every part of his exposed skin.

He immediately intimidated Tommy, and he couldn’t help but take a few steps back in self-defense, preparing to run.

“Techno,” Quackity frowned. “I don’t suppose you’re here to sign up?”

“I thought I told you to leave this side of town alone.”

Tommy tensed. There was definitely an old rivalry and a nearing fight coming up, and Tommy was not in the mood to watch someone get pummeled by a hybrid twice their size.

“Rent dropped,” Quackity stuck a thumb out at the building behind him. “I’ll only be here a few months, Techno, and then I’ll move on! Just like we agreed on!”

“Not happenin’,” Techno bared the tusk of his that was still intact, it seemed that the left one had been broken off, leaving his entire face kind of lopsided. “It’s bad enough you do this at all, but recruitin’ children ? Seriously, Quackity?”

Tommy’s defenses started to merge into offense as soon as that comment was spoken. “Fuck off, I’m not a child.”

“Clearly, you are,” Techno spared him a short glance. “And no one like you should be involved with this man at all.”

“It’s not my fault some kids need to eat,” Quackity crossed his arms too, but he seemed a little more on edge about it. “I’m just giving them a chance to make money.”

“By runnin’ an illegal fightin’ ring and bettin’ on the fights between six-year-olds?”

“I’m thirteen, dickhead!”

The hard glare he received in return for his statement landed harshly on his shoulders. Tommy ground his teeth and was considering coming back at a later time, but he wanted to give this piglin a fucking piece of his mind.

“What else am I supposed to do?” He asked man with a defiant stare that perfectly matched his own. “I can’t get a job, how am I supposed to eat? If I keep stealing, I’ll end up in jail eventually.”

“You should be in the foster system,” the guy, Techno, sighed, “And it’s not your fault you’re not.”

Tommy was hardly expecting that. He fully expected this privileged bastard to drag him to the nearest CPS site and demand he be placed in a home.

It must have been obvious that he was caught off guard because his look crossed into something that looked like pity before looking back at Quackity.

“Don’t accept any kids,” he put his foot down, voice rumbling. “Or I’ll push you into your own ring.”

Quackity hardly looked happy, glancing over at him with an overly annoyed look. “Good luck, amigo.”

He opened the door behind him and it slammed on his way out.

Tommy’s minimal hope shattered, leaving him, once again, without a plan of survival and yet another meal that he’d have to steal tonight if he wanted to eat.

“Fuck you,” he muttered to the piglin.

“Kid—” the piglin sighed, but Tommy walked past him with his eyes on the sidewalk. “Wait a minute, kid—”

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Tommy picked up his pace, “I’m not going to answer to that.”

He expected a threat, maybe physical contact. Any piglin wouldn’t usually hesitate to pick violence to make sure they were listened to.

“Then what’s your name?”

He couldn’t read this guy. He couldn’t tell if he was picking a fight, eliminating competition, or actually concerned about Tommy’s well-being. Why would he be concerned for Tommy’s well-being? There were so many reasons why he shouldn’t be cared about, why he wasn’t important. He was a rodent, the world had deemed him so, and just because he kept fighting back didn’t mean he didn’t deserve it.

“Tommy,” he eventually settled on. His footsteps had stopped moving away, the piglin looking down at him, but not in an intimidating way. He was just acknowledging that Tommy was there, listening to what he had to say.

“Tommy,” the piglin tested the use of the name on his tongue. “I’m Techno, it’s nice to meet you.”

“What the fuck do you want?” Tommy didn’t leave any room for error, bluntly demanding the use of any pleasantries that had no use for someone like him.

Techno scoffed, “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me. Trust me, Tommy, bein’ in Quackity’s ring would not have been in your best interest.”

“Well, it was my only chance of actually getting a hot meal, so I’ll continue digging around in dumpsters, thanks to you.”

His relaxed demeanor dropped into that look of pity again. Tommy didn’t get it a lot, but he knew that the people that gave it to him didn’t know shit about his situation, nor did he even stay in their minds long enough for them to get home.

“I hear you,” Techno sighed. “But I’m sure you would prefer to have all of your bones unbroken over a microwaved noodles cup.”

Tommy frowned. “How would you know, huh?”

“I’ve been there, Tommy,” Techno said without an ounce of hesitation. “Don’t turn yourself to fightin’ rings for money, no matter how confident you are, it won’t end well.”

Did Tommy care? No, absolutely not.

“I’d rather break a few bones than starve to death,” Tommy crossed his arms. “Or get poisoned. Or get beaten up in an alleyway and murdered.”

Techno pursed his lips, finally turning to a side alley. Tommy thought he was just going to leave, finally be done with the conversation he was in no way going to live. But Techno turned back, waving Tommy forward with his hand when he didn’t follow.

“Let me buy you a meal, Tommy.” Tommy’s heart skipped for a moment, almost sure it was a trap. The second part of his head was convinced that even the chance at a meal was enough to follow.

“What’s the catch?” He jogged forward, still cautious.

“You let me help you find an alternative to the ring,” Techno urged him forward. “At least listen to what I have to say.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Good luck, you’re starting from scratch.”

“I can work with that.”

---

“You… live here?”

The tent was propped up behind a fence, the orange color of the fabric having faded from the sun. Half of it was draped with black fabric, anything from tarps to torn blankets, just to keep the heat in.

It was clear that this setup had been here for a long while.

“What? Expectin’ a palace?” Techno chuckled, vaulting the fence in three strides and offering a hand out to Tommy to pull him up and over it. Tommy took the hand, scrambling over the top and landing heavily on his heels. He winced from the lack of soles in his shoes but bounced on his feet to get rid of the feeling.

“I just thought you lived in a house.” Tommy tried his best not to sound too surprised, half of the city’s population were either squatters, homeless, or in jail. He shouldn’t have expected Techno to be any different, even if he’d taken Tommy to a decent place to get dinner. He hadn’t eaten that much in one sitting for months.

“Nah, I’m not that lucky.” Techno didn’t even seem bothered by it, unzipping the center and waving Tommy in after him. Tommy hesitated, not sure if this was intruding or not, but the man had waved him in, and Tommy had already agreed to go to his home to get some things Techno wanted to give him.

He gasped once he forced himself through the flap, enveloped with heat that wrapped around him in a way he hadn’t felt since he got refuge for a day in a bakery during winter. It didn’t get super cold in the city, but it was always cold on the streets no matter the weather.

He blinked up at the faded orange coloring and wondered how it was trapping so much warmth underneath it to make it feel like a blanket.

Techno chuckled at his expression, “Yeah, it gets warm in here. It’s how I like it.”

“How?” Tommy’s eyes were wide and his jaw partially dropped. He could fucking learn a thing or two from this guy.

“Well, one, I’m piglin,” Techno sat cross-legged in the center of his tent. “I tend to give off a lot of heat when I sleep, and it sticks around as long as the tent’s sealed. And the fabrics outside catch the sun when it hits.”

Tommy plopped his ass down in the middle of a pile of blankets that had accumulated and scattered around the floor. Every inch of the place that wasn’t bare essentials and bags were soft fabrics and decently kept pillows. Prime , Tommy would go back to religion if he could get his hands on a pillow.

“How’d you get the tent?” Tommy was still marveling at the frames, and it seemed that it had to be patched quite a few times. He spotted a sewing kit off to the side, stuffed in between a bunch of other bags.

“Bought it,” Techno shrugged. “Not until I got a job, though. These things are expensive.”

The flower that had blossomed in Tommy’s chest started immediately wilting, guilt pounding at his skull. He’d thought this guy was like every other pitying privileged person, and he had severely underestimated the fact that people who hate exploiting children for fighting rings might also have their own struggles with financials.

“What’s with the silence, kid?” Techno glanced over at him. Tommy’s stare hardened, crossing his arms and mumbling something about not being a kid. Techno apologized with an eye-roll, “Just forgot, sorry, Tommy. What’s got you all quiet?”

Tommy swallowed the instinctual response to reflect the question and forget about it, but decided he might get some answers if he did otherwise. “I just… I let you buy me food because I thought you were like all of those rich pricks.”

Techno visibly softened, shooting him something fond. “Don’t feel guilty about it, I didn’t go bankrupt over your burger. You clearly needed a pick-me-up.”

“But you could’ve used that for other stuff!”

“Like what?” Techno cocked his head. “Everythin’ I’ve ever needed is right here. Well… maybe I don’t have a bathroom, but there’s not much I can do about that.” He chuckled, and Tommy frowned harder. “Just because I don’t have enough for rent doesn’t mean I don’t have some disposable income, and if I can help someone who needs somethin’ that’s just a plus.”

Tommy huffed even as Techno came over to nudge him playfully. It eventually became an unwilling smile and a large eye-roll.

“I’ll prove it to you, Tommy,” Techno leaned back in his pile of blankets, his tusk poking out as he smiled. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll buy you another meal.”

“What— but Techno—”

“Nope, can’t hear you,” Techno covered his ears playfully, and Tommy couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s that? You’ll be here?”

“Shut the fuck up, Techno,” Tommy rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Techno smiled wider than Tommy had seen all day. “Great. Now, how many blankets do you own? Because you’re leavin’ with at least three more.”

---

Tommy did, in fact, come back tomorrow.

He also came back the day after that.

And… maybe he came every day for a few consecutive weeks. He was getting an entire free meal a day, alright? It was a really good deal! All he had to do was hang out with Techno for a few hours in his superheated tent and laugh at all of his stupid deadpan jokes until the sunset and the man pushed him back to his own camp to sleep again.

…he wouldn’t admit to being attached to him. That was simply not the Tommy Innit way.

But Techno was a life savor as much as he was fun. He guided Tommy around by the shoulder and took him to all kinds of places. They climbed a huge building and sat on the rooftop pretending to name all of the constellations, even if there were no visible stars in the city. They went to a park and threw bread at the ducks with a loaf Techno had gotten for a quarter at the bakery just because it was burned at the edges. It was perfectly good bread! And once upon a time, Tommy would have been content to eat the entire thing himself. Except, he didn’t need to, because Techno bought him an entire meal every single day.

Sometimes it was the fancy stuff, like the actual quality fast food restaurants instead of the super greasy, barely meat, type of fast food. On other days, they just went to the supermarket and bought something easy off the shelves, trying to scour around for sales and surplus items.

Techno would always look at him with that strange glint in his eye whenever Tommy got his food, and Tommy, no matter what it was, no matter how small or how unappetizing it looked, smiled until his little sharp canines could be seen.

Tommy no longer felt like he was surviving. He was living.

Techno helped in more than just the food department too.

Once, Tommy had run into that group of three again, looking to really beat him up for skipping out on them last time. Tommy hadn’t hesitated before running all the way to where Techno worked as a crewman for a construction site, and the man had scared them off with barely a challenge. Tommy wasn’t bothered by them after that.

He hadn’t exactly escaped without complications, however…

“Blade!” Someone shouted, and it got Techno’s attention. Tommy himself looked around Techno’s hulking form, watching someone else in a hard hat walk up to them.

“Squid,” Techno rolled his eyes, shooting Tommy a look that distinctively said look at this looser . Tommy chuckled.

“Who’s this?” The man Techno called Squid looked down at him, prying the gloves off of his fingers.

“This is Tommy,” Techno introduced him, setting a gloved hand down on his shoulder. Techno looked at him fondly, which was something Tommy knew he didn’t do on purpose, and Squid seemed to be confused for a few seconds before his eyes widened.

“ Techno ,” he smiled. “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

Techno was caught so off guard he choked on air and started coughing. Tommy let out a surprised laugh but quickly pushed himself in front of Techno to save the man from humiliation. “Yep, that’s me, I’m definitely his kid and totally not just someone who just latched onto him. Mmhmm, yep, totally his kid.”

Squid, apparently, didn’t understand sarcasm.

“Prime, Techno, you gotta tell HR about that. You’re on the same salary I’m on, and there’s no way you can afford to have a kid on this pay.”

Tommy’s smile dropped away immediately, blinking up at Techno who had gone very pale.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll— um, I’ll mention it next time I’m in there.” Techno winced at his own phrasing, guiding Tommy swiftly away by the shoulder. “Can you cover for me for a few minutes, Squid?”

Squid nodded and shot him a thumbs-up.

Techno and Tommy moved quickly behind a wall. Techno was biting at the part of his lip that came down with the absence of his second tusk, something he only did when he was nervous.

“Tech,” Tommy glanced worriedly at him. “You’re not— you’re ok, right? I’m not—”

“I’ll repeat what I said a few weeks ago,” Techno lowered to his level. “I’m not going bankrupt on a few meals. I make enough, alright?”

“But he just said—”

“Squid also thinks I actually live in an apartment,” Techno assured him. “I don’t exactly tell people the limits of my home life. But you gotta understand somethin’, Tommy. If HR somehow gets wind of me somehow having a ‘son’ it means they might look into you, find out where I’m livin’, and in turn find out that you’re on the streets illegally too.”

Oh… Tommy was worried about Techno, but Techno was worried completely about Tommy.

“The last thing I want is for you to end back up in a crappy and overrun foster system, Tommy. Please be careful.”

It looked like he wasn’t the only one that was attached.

“I was just trying to be sarcastic,” Tommy mumbled, and Techno loosened up a little with a laugh.

“Just get goin’ wherever you’re goin’,” Techno huffed, pushing him away with a gentle hand. “And if those kids bother you again, bring them right back.”

“Will do, Blade, ” Tommy poked, moving back into the alley. He waved a quick goodbye as he took off down the alley, knowing he’d see Techno that night anyway.

What he didn’t see was Techno’s clear frown at his old nickname when he left.

---

It was so rarely cold in the city that sometimes, Tommy forgot what it felt like.

He could usually complain about being cold when he found a chill in the air or the wind blew a little too fiercely. He could plainly remember the biting frost that clung to the edge of freezers and coolers, but they were more often than not relief from the summer heat that traced beads of sweat down his face.

So, when the chill set in that night, Tommy wasn’t completely sure what was happening.

It felt like the rush of an oncoming storm, one he knew would find the right angle to blast his little hideout with a torrential downpour. He shivered vaguely, wondering if he was paranoid or if there was really someone watching him.

He curled in closer to his little alcove anyway, trying to settle as the sun dipped away and his stomach began to settle from the meal he’d had with Techno.

He woke just an hour later, shaking and numb, his teeth clattering together. He had no idea how to stop it, and it scared him that he couldn’t.

There was no water, just the wind and that chill that he’d never truly experienced. He hadn’t been out on the streets long enough to experience all the effects of winter, and he was just now realizing that he was not prepared for the city’s rare frosted-over nights.

He tried to settle more deeply, but his shaking kept the blankets from covering him completely. He couldn’t feel his toes, and he didn’t know why he couldn’t feel his toes.

With one last stretch of panic and a harsh breath, he pulled one of the warmer blankets from the pile he’d inherited from Techno, and he started running.

He sprinted through the streets, his skin starting to burn as he exhausted himself, but his feet and fingers were still without feeling. The sensation scared him, he didn’t know what was going on . There was no cold in the city, so no one had taught him about the cold. Was this bad? Did the numbing in his fingers mean they weren’t moving? Were they not there at all?

He could see them, but he couldn’t prove if they were real any more than that.

He swallowed his instinct to cry with confusion. He was too old for this, he should know how to deal with this! He’d been out in the real world for so long already, and this was what got him panicking? The weather? He knew everything about the weather! He’d tracked the weather every day, watching when it rained and when it was sunny, when the clouds covered the whole sky or when they just dotted in between the bright blue.

He was prepared for this, he just didn’t know what was happening.

With a great burst of will, he found himself in front of Techno’s fence and vaulted over it just like the man had taught him to. He scrambled right to the front flap, breathing heavily, and he hesitated.

It was warm in there, and Techno had said he was always welcome, but… but he’d never come out at night before. Maybe the piglin wouldn’t recognize him, maybe he would tell Tommy to suck it up and go back to his spot. He’d always heard that piglins were territorial about their property, and he hadn’t seen it yet in Techno, but would the night change him at all?

His hesitation took far longer than he wanted it to. He was almost ready to go and sprint in the opposite direction when a lantern turned on from inside, and Techno’s voice rumbled out a hesitant “Who’s there?”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t mean to wake him, Techno needed his sleep for his work tomorrow, and he was probably using more of his strength to keep his body warm in the cold than Tommy would. A nether hybrid had to be hurting all the way out here, where the winter was sparse, but present.

The zipper undid itself, and a head poked through the flap with a crease in his brow, confusion and caution lining his face until the lantern light hit Tommy, and the piglin seemed to just recognize the cold.

Techno gasped, reaching forward in speed faster than Tommy had seen in him, and pulled him inside, zipping up the tent flap. Tommy was encased by warmth immediately, a sigh filtering out as he continued to shiver just so he could get rid of the extra chill. His shoulders were covered with another blanket, and another, and yet another, with Techno fretting over him like a mother hen.

“Did the cold hurt you?” Techno asked, seeming almost frantic. “Did the frost set in already? Holy hell , Tommy, are you ok?”

Tommy looked up at the man, not completely sure what had the man all worked up. He was fine now, he just needed a little heat, that was all. “I just—” he started but stumbled as Techno reached out and cradled his chin like he was fragile. It… he didn’t even know that was a thing but it felt… it felt right.

“I just—” he started over, “I couldn’t feel my toes— and I didn’t know what that meant—”

It was only seconds later that he had been enveloped, his body huddled against Techno’s chest. He took the moment to appreciate how warm the man always was, how much heat he gave off, and how soft his clothes always were from how much he wore them.

Tommy nestled into Techno’s hold, wishing every part of him could be encircled, and Techno seemed to try and bury Tommy in his arms. That was when he started to make the rumbling noise, something Tommy could only instinctually decipher with his minimal animal relations and his lack of piglin ancestors.

He was almost certain the man was purring.

It all made sense. Piglin were territorial and protective of what was theirs. They were extremely susceptible to the cold, and if Techno’s hybrid side recognized Tommy as part of his family— his sounder— just like Tommy recognized him as part of his gaze—

He thought Tommy was more hurt than he actually was, because Techno’s hybrid side saw him as a piglin, whether he actually was or not.

Tommy let the rumbling noise fill his ears, and he let his instincts decipher it in any which way they wanted.

Tommy’s chest made a cautious sound, a noise he hadn’t made for so, so long. Not since his real home with his real mother.

He let his eyes rest, and he purred right along with him until he dropped into sleep, warmer than he had ever been, inside and out.

---

After that day, Techno’s tent became Techno and Tommy’s.

The man had apologized, partially red in the face that he let his panic be overcome with instincts. Tommy had laughed it off, savoring the moment of embarrassment to blackmail him with later, and buried himself in Techno’s arms again.

Things were easier from then on. Tommy’s backpack was no longer with him everywhere he went. He resorted to leaving it at Techno’s. He shared his little box of shiny things with Techno, and Techno’s eyes had dilated so much that Tommy was sure they were going to pop. That was only until Techno brought out his own bag of shiny things, and Tommy was immediately chittering up a storm.

Their instincts and weird hybrid mixes didn’t get in the way of anything. It made things funnier even, and sometimes they were helpful. Techno could always tell when there was a chill coming the same way Tommy could predict a storm. Each of them shared their strange little habits, and they shared two meals a day instead of one.

Tommy felt a little guilty about it at first, but Techno eventually just pulled him down to sit in the middle of the tent and pulled out his wallet.

“I can afford another waffle in the mornin’, Tommy,” the man spoke slowly, seriously, needing Tommy to understand his words. “I’m not hiding anything. I’d much rather spend my money on getting you some things you need rather than letting myself use it on something worthless.”

There were no more secrets between them, and they opted to keep it that way.

Things were better than they had ever been for Tommy. He was with someone he trusted more than anything, he was fed and healthy and warm every night. He got to purr up a storm whenever he wanted to, and Techno wouldn’t look at him any differently.

So, of course, things had to change.

---

Techno was walking home from work in the early evening, his hands all dusty from the day. He wasn’t exactly watching where he was going, working on getting the dust off of him and getting home so he and Tommy could go out and get some food.

He was so preoccupied in his own head, that he didn’t hear the shouting. The gunshots were the first things to get his attention.

Immediately his senses were firing, trying to figure out where it all came from. People were shouting at each other in dark clothes, holding onto bags and pointing weapons like their lives depended on it.

Violence wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t unheard of. Usually, it was on a smaller scale, in terms of street fights and muggings. Every so often you came across a group that had banded together, Techno strayed away from the word gangs but that was more than often what they were.

And when they came together, they fought, and people died.

It seemed it was far from his lucky day.

He had just rounded the alleyway when he heard the gunshots, immediately trying to scramble backward from the noise. The world tilted around him, he ended up flat on his back, his fingers clutched at something on his stomach before he could even process what he was trying to do.

The pain hit like a train. He was gasping for air as his problem with getting the dust off of his hands no longer became a really prominent issue. He steadied his breathing, he knew how to deal with pain, but he’d never really been shot before, and he sure hadn’t taken a hit this bad in ages.

Sure, there were times before that he had to stitch up his own stab wounds on the floor of a public bathroom, and he was sure a bullet wound couldn’t be much different from a knife, but he couldn’t really think of a solution at the moment, because his mind was stuck on Tommy.

If Techno died, Tommy would be alone in the world again. The kid that cussed out the world that he’d found by luck and fortune was no longer going to purr in contentment at the end of a long day. He’d probably be found and dragged back to a foster placement, where he’d starve one way or another. Techno knew. He’d been a lot better after he ran from his.

He had ended up in a bad fighting ring, but that was a learning process that he had to go through, and wouldn’t let any other kid ever do it again.

If he died, Tommy would go back. Techno knew he’d go right to Quackity’s doorstep and beg for a place in their ring, just to make up for the meals he’d gotten so used to under Techno’s flimsy tent roof.

Techno had only gotten him permanently a few weeks ago, and now the kid wasn’t going to have anyone to lean on. He’d just opened up.

Fuck , no, he couldn’t think about it like that. He had to get up, he would get up. He’d pry the bullet right out of his stomach if he had to. He had to get back to Tommy, and no other thought was clearer in his head than that.

Techno was sure that it was the only thing that kept him going long enough for people to show up.

He’d moved himself over to a wall, sitting up so he could at least see the world around him… if his vision came back any time soon. He could hear someone run up to him, speaking in gentle tones. He slowly put the pieces together.

“You’re doing just fine, mate, the ambulance will be here any second. Breathe carefully, you’re doing great.”

Techno’s brain wasn’t focused on breathing, he was focused on what he was supposed to do about Tommy. If he didn’t come back, the kid would go out looking for him, and he might get caught up in more violence if it hadn’t settled.

It was a choice between keeping Tommy safe and keeping Tommy his own.

“My— my son—” Techno hissed in pain as the man tried to calm him, tell him that he didn’t need to say anything, that they’d deal with it. Techno shook his head as fast as he dared. “Tommy, he’ll— go looking for— for me.”

What would his old sounder think if they could hear him like this? Dying and stuttering, so unlike the culture piglins had made their own.

Techno hated each and every one of the people he grew up with. That first piglin home was nothing compared to Tommy.

“There’s— an orange tent— over by sixteenth— please—”

He could hear the sirens of the ambulance already. He wondered how it would feel to rest in a real bed again, under a real roof.

“We’ll find him, mate,” the officer— he at least believed it was an officer— told him. “Don’t worry, we won’t let him get hurt.”

With that knowledge, Techno took his next couple of breaths carefully, no longer letting the strain on his body be of any worry. He let the pain seep out of him as he relaxed, settling into a hibernation state he hadn’t been sure he had anymore, and just hoped that Tommy would be ok.

---

Techno was supposed to get home half an hour ago, and yet, Tommy hadn’t seen another person walk by the entrance to the ally that held their tent in at least an hour. It wasn’t like he was nervous or anything… but Techno didn’t exactly like to stay overtime. He didn’t get paid for overtime, so he came home as quickly as he was allowed.

Tommy sat on top of the metal fence, no longer able to concentrate on the book Techno had given him to practice his reading. His tail was keeping him balanced on the ledge as he curled and uncurled it anxiously, his ears twitching with every city-made sound that trickled his way.

The sun was setting now. Something was wrong.

“...said it was around sixteenth,” Tommy caught wind of a distant conversation, one with footsteps that steadily got closer. “Kid’s gotta be worried by now.”

Tommy’s heart spiked. It didn’t sound like Techno, but it sure sounded like they were talking about him.

“I have a feeling we’re not going to like what we see,” a second voice sighed. Tommy could see their shadows approaching now. Prime, prime , this was not what he wanted. Did someone get Techno? Was someone after Tommy?

Two people stepped out from behind the corner, stopping as soon as they made eye contact with Tommy. Tommy immediately sprang to his feet, claws gripping at the wall next to him as every instinct screamed at him to run.

The two cops put softened faces on, the fake ones that said he was going to be chucked right back into a foster home with a lollipop or something for his troubles. Tommy would much rather go back to sleeping under his alcove.

The second cop could tell he was tense, putting an arm out for his friend so that they stopped moving toward him.

“Hey mate,” the blonde one started off cautiously. “Are you Tommy?”

Tommy swallowed down his fear so that his urge to sprint was delayed long enough to get answers. “Where’s Techno?”

“Techno got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The blonde one took a step forward. Tommy let a hiss ring out, though it was no match for Techno’s growl. “He’s going to be ok, but he’s at the hospital.”

Fuck . Techno’s hurt. He’s hurt . Techno, the indestructible piglin, the brick wall to Tommy’s paper-thin barriers, was in the hospital .

His first thought: how was he going to get food? Sure he’d been on his own for a little while before he found Techno, but he quickly learned that the way he was living was barely living.

There was no way he could go through that again. He had lost the part of him that closed himself off to the outside. He’d let someone in, and now he had nothing to his name.

“It’s going to be alright, mate,” the blonde kept steadily stepping forward. Tommy was tensing so hard that he was certain he would blend into the wall. “We can bring you to the station and get you—”

Oh fuck no.

Going to a station was a one-way trip back to foster homes. Techno wouldn’t be able to get custody without a place of residence, and Tommy couldn’t stay with anyone else. He couldn’t . It wasn’t fair to Techno.

He’d just have to run.

The blonde was still talking, but Tommy took his chance. He dug his claws as far as they would go into the brick, and he dragged himself up the wall. Now that he had the strength to do something like this, he thought that escaping to the rooftops was probably his best idea.

His fingers hurt, but his arms pulled him up. He could hear the officers shout for him below, but he pulled himself up onto the roof, certain he was safe.

“Why would he not want to go home?” He heard the second officer, the brunette, ask the blonde. “Where is he trying to go?”

“Nothing is ever that easy,” the blonde sighed. “I’ll go after him, I doubt he can go far.”

“Wait—” The brunette stopped again. “Phil— Phil, I think this is more than just a play tent.”

Tommy’s heart skipped.

“Oh fuck,” the blonde cussed, but it didn’t hold any real bite. “I have a feeling that kid isn’t his legal son then, either.”

“If I have to chase down another abused foster kid—”

“Shut it, Wil,” The first officer cut him off. “I’ll go after him, you go back to the hospital and talk to Techno when he wakes up, alright?”

“Copy that, Phil.”

So Tommy ran. And he ran until the crow hybrid cop was no longer on his tail. He collapsed against the side of an electrical box and pushed himself to breathe.

His heart stuttered and restarted in his chest, and that bit of hybrid instinct that came out with his fear began to take hold of his brain. He was scared, and when he was scared he had to claw at something because if he was in danger there must be something being the danger.

It hurt to drag himself out of that state, pushing himself in the direction his sub-mind was leading him. He found himself under the overhang of the abandoned garden, his first campsite, and settled down with nothing but himself.

He couldn’t go back to the tent. They’d be watching it, waiting for him to come back. This was all he had.

Now that he’d been given a taste of what he could have, this was hell .

—

It took Tommy only a day to feel the hunger effects.

He sat under his covered area, shielding himself from the light rain, shivering and holding his stomach. He breathed evenly, trying to get himself to focus on that instead of the lack of food in his stomach. He couldn’t help himself, though, it was just too much.

When things became too much for anyone in this god-forsaken city, it meant one of three things.

The first, and probably most common, was instincts. The edge of survival triggered a hindbrain that didn’t need to come out too many times anymore. With the added heartache and fear, Tommy was absolutely slipping into his own animalistic state. He’d had it under control for over six months already, letting it loose with Techno just every so often for comfort. But now? Tommy didn't even feel like himself.

The second happened to be rash decisions. If your hindbrain saw something that could solve the problem you were in, it didn’t consider anything else while your legs dragged in that direction.

Tommy’s feet led him through the alleys until he ripped a piece of paper from the wall and continued, finding that worn metal door on the side of a building that he felt disconnected from now.

He raised a hand to knock, only briefly wondering how mad Techno would be if he saw Tommy back here. Not that he could stop him. Techno was hurt and locked away in a hospital, and Tommy’s brain was fuzzy with the need for survival.

A head peeked out a few seconds later, eyes narrow in suspicion until they settled on Tommy.
“Didn’t Techno talk you out of this?” Quackity asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes seemed in a mix between concern and wariness, as if he was waiting for Techno to jump around a corner and demand Quackity give up his business.

“Techno’s not here,” Tommy muttered, crossing his arms. “I want in.”

“Kid, Techno’s going to be furious with you, and by extension, me.” He kept looking over his shoulder. “I’m not risking my neck for you.”

“He’s not here,” Tommy said louder. “And he won’t find out.”

“Prove it,” Quackity leaned against the door. “How will me accepting you into this ring be of any benefit to me?”

Tommy could feel the fog creeping over his brain, the instinct to attack what was guarding what he wanted.

“Because I’m desperate,” he forced out. “And without a home, and without food, and I was chased down by cops yesterday.” He took in a breath to make the fog clear, but it only thinned. “And Techno’s in the hospital. I don’t think he’s going to be a problem.”

That made Quackity hesitate.

“...did you put him in the hospital?”

“ Prime , no,” Tommy stumbled back a few steps. “You think I could put Techno in the hospital?”

“I mean, I’d just thought I’d ask—”

“You’re a dumbass,” Tommy huffed. “Can I join? For a few weeks at least?”

Quackity sighed into his hands and mumbled something about this being a horrible idea. “Yes. You can join. Come on in.” He opened the door, and Tommy scrambled to the entrance. “I’ll get you set up so we don’t have any complications.”

The room was small, just an office, but beyond the few halls, Tommy could hear the scraping of metal on metal, shouts and grunts, and every sound in between.

“I have a good feeling about you, amigo.” Quackity put a hand on his shoulder. “You have a name?”

He swallowed down his once of hesitation. “Tommy.”

“Welcome to Las Nevadas, Tommy.”

Quackity prompted him in front of a glass wall, and his heart could have stopped.

“And that,” Quackity chuckled. “Is The Pit.”

—

 That third thing he forgot to mention? When things began too much and the first two don’t work, people might become suicidal.

When Tommy stepped into The Pit for his first time that night, he thought he might have already skipped his first two steps and went straight for the third.

“When you start, you start out as a no-name competitor,” Quackity had told him, which seemed obvious when he’d first said it, but now he understood the meaning behind it.

This was a spider hybrid. Venomous, with four extra arms poking out of their torso and those glowing red eyes that hurt his brain to look at. He wondered if they had eight eyes too, and where they were.

“ Our returning champion!” The announcer boomed across the stadium. Tommy’s exhaustion and hanging eyes were whisked away in a moment as the crowd roared. The late hour was nothing to him now, he was wide awake. “The Recluse!”

His ears were buzzing, holding his fists tight to his side and eyeing the person on the other side. The bell hadn’t rung yet, they weren’t supposed to start, but he couldn’t help but feel like the predatory gaze they held was a warning that they were going to pounce at any moment.

“No hard feelings,” the spider-hybrid said between a smile of their teeth. Tommy didn’t dare speak back or approach for a handshake, he was already nervous out of his mind.

The dry sand his heels were digging into felt like it was dragging him down with every second the announcer waited.

“One round!” The announcer finally continued after the roar dimmed. “Sudden death. If either is pinned for ten seconds, the round ends, and we declare our champion. You have thirty seconds to place your bets!”

Tommy would get five percent of the winnings if he won, and it would go up with every fight he won, resetting if he lost. It was the luck of the draw with his opponent and the strategy that he had to come up with on the spot. He couldn’t rely on his claws or his teeth, he just had to stay out of the spider-hybrid’s grip long enough to pin them himself. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do that, as they had four more limbs than he was ready for.

“Opponents ready!” Tommy begged it to start already. “Five! Fou—”

Tommy’s ears rang, and he pushed them behind his head. He needed this. Just enough to eat the next day.

He swallowed, and the spider sprang forward. Tommy ducked to the side, waking his limbs up and making them stop trembling. He ducked a swing, going for a swing of his own before remembering the other four arms and double-taking.

He backed up a few steps, waiting for them to come at him. There was nothing in the arena to help him, and if it went longer than five minutes they’d call for a break. He could survive five minutes.

The spider hybrid leaped again, coming at him with their hands. Tommy recognized that they were going for a tackle, reaching for their top set of hands and gripping their wrists. He broke their momentum with a swing, pushing them down as much as he could. The spider hybrid hissed at him, grabbing his own wrists and his shirt before falling backward.

Tommy fell on top of them with a whoosh of his air leaving. They rolled over in his momentary stun, holding him in the sand.

His wrists or elbows had to be to the floor in order for it to be a pin. He barely had enough strength to keep them hovering against their grip, still gripping their top wrists so they didn’t get the idea that Tommy would allow them to pluck his eyes out.

He couldn’t really move, and he’d get bested in strength eventually, so without much of an option, he moved his left leg so that his knee was logged between their chests, and then his right leg lashed out right to where it would hurt.

They buckled with collective sympathy from the crowd. Tommy threw them off with his second leg, rolling up to his feet. His arms were shaking. He shook them out.

“That wasn’t nice,” the spider hybrid mumbled sarcastically to themselves, getting to their feet too. 

Tommy hissed at them for good measure. They returned the favor.

Tommy waited for them to launch at him again, watching all their arms come out to him mid-jump. Tommy ducked, grabbing hold of one of the bottom wrists and spinning on his heel. They hit the ground hard, face first, as Tommy whipped them into the floor. Tommy punched on top of them, digging a knee into their back to try and keep them down.

Instead, they stood up with Tommy still on top of them .

Well, fuck. If they could lift his weight how on earth was he supposed to pin them?

Tommy disconnected himself before they got the grand idea of slamming them into the sand too. The sand, which looked like a nice cushion before, actually fucking hurt.

His heart was beating so fast in his chest that his vision was starting to white out. He tried to keep himself grounded, but his reaction time failed him, leaving him to get thrown forward by his hair, some of it ripping out with a sound Tommy wasn’t sure how to describe.

His arms were locked together, his legs about to get swept out from underneath him, and he did the only thing he could think of. He bit.

There was a sound of horror from the hybrid as they reached up to defend themselves from Tommy’s jaws, dropping one of his wrists in the process. Tommy used it to swing the first punch that landed, right across their jaw. They blinked stars while Tommy hooked an elbow around their neck and pulled them down to the ground.

This time, his elbow was kept on their neck. His other arm remained trapped, but his legs twisted into trapping three other arms.

The others grappled at him, trying to catch his hands. He ground his teeth as one of them punched him in the nose, a vein breaking and the blood trickling down.

He needed to get their wrists on the ground. He was shorter than them, so he’d had to use both of his hands to get at least one pair on either side of their head for ten seconds.

As soon as he moved his elbow from their neck they were spitting in his face, twisting to try and break from the hold. Their legs were flailing uselessly, not able to flip themselves with Tommy’s weight and without the use of four of their hands.

Tommy grabbed one of the hands, pressing it to their side on the sand. He had to get the other one, which was more of a struggle from how their hand was wrapped around his wrist. After several moments of pushing away from himself with his hand, he pulled it toward himself. Their momentum of push helped for a split second, getting their knuckles into his mouth as he bit down for the second time.

Their hand released. Tommy gripped theirs and pushed it to the sand.

His brain was melting. All he needed was ten seconds. Their upper arm strength wasn’t the best, they were tired. Tommy was tired. They both wanted this to be over.

“ Five!” The crowd was chanting through his haze of survival instincts. “Six!”

He swore it could have been half an hour of struggle and one total reset of the clock when their wrists lifted up when the bell rang.

“We have our winner!”

And Tommy collapsed. He couldn’t breathe, he’d forgotten to. He rolled into the rough sand and coughed his lungs out, gasping for air. His limbs were dead, jelly.

He needed to get up and walk out of the pit, then he could find some food, wipe up the blood, and rest.

“First time?” The spider hybrid asked, and Tommy forced his eyes open. He nodded, offering the hand without much of a thought against it. “You’re strangely good.”

He was on his feet, the world tilting for a minute before he gained his senses. He swallowed the blood that had gotten into his mouth, cringing.

“Most people don’t use their teeth,” the spider offered, like advice. “Something about honor and all that, but you didn’t think twice. You should keep that.”

Tommy spat out a breathless laugh. “Really? I was worried it was against the rules or some shit.”

“Damn, you are new,” they laughed back. “There are no rules in the pit. Not after that bell rings.”

Tommy blinked. “But what about killing?”

“ Recluse ,” someone yelled from the side, making the spider-hybrid turn. “You don’t have the time to chit-chat.”

They looked back quickly with a flash of fear in their eyes. “As I said, there are no rules in the pit. Your wrists can be on the floor if you’re dead too.”

With that, they ran off to the side, and Tommy paid a looked to the crowd, watching their eager faces soak him up, jeer and laugh and curse all they wanted.

The jokes were on them, they’d be paying for Tommy’s dinner tonight.

With that, he left, not willing to share his victory with the individuals he would never understand.

“Ay!” Quackity wrapped an arm around his shoulders, appearing from basically nowhere. His wings flared behind him and wrapped around Tommy’s back like he was telling everyone to back off. This one’s mine. “First-time winner! That almost never happens!” Tommy peered up at him, still lost in a whirlwind of being overwhelmed and tired and wanting to crash. “I can see the potential in you already. You’re going to be a house favorite— the next Blade, even!”

Tommy couldn’t place where he’d heard that name before.

—

Techno woke in a borderline panic. Tommy’s name was buzzing through his mind as he tried to become aware of his surroundings, letting white walls and beeping machines enter his reality.

Something on one of the beeping machines spiked, and Techno winced at the sound, trying to force his arms underneath him to get up.

Tommy. He had to get to Tommy.

“Woah, there.” A nurse had come into the room, footsteps sharp on the floor. Techno couldn’t fully open his eyes, not used to the light. “Hey, you’re alright, sit back. Nothing’s wrong. You’re in the hospital.”

Techno couldn’t force himself to sit up. He was utterly pathetic. Weak. Not strong enough for Tommy.

“There you go.” Someone eased him back. “Take some breaths, you’re going to be just fine.”

He had to find Tommy.

Finally, his eyes locked onto the nurse, his eyes just open wide enough to take her in. She had bright pink hair, similar to Techno’s but not natural. She was exaggerating her breathing as if Techno didn’t know how to.

He had been in hibernation. He could have been in it for months. He didn’t know how long he was out.

“What day is it?” He forced out. His throat was raw, but the nurse was already bringing out a bottle.

“You’ve been in a piglin hibernation state for three days,” she answered, and Techno let out a sigh of relief. It could have been so much worse. “Do you remember anything?”

The gunshot? Yeah, he sure did.

“All of it,” Techno confirmed, taking the water to try and relieve the hoarseness of his throat. “Where’s Tommy? Where’s my son?”
She winced just enough to be noticeable. “I don’t have the answers to all of that right now. Let me call in the officer, he’ll have more information.”

So Techno waited, hours it seemed, for the officer to come in. The nurse, a mer hybrid (meaning she was about 1/4th fish rather than half), was nice to him as she fretted about with this and that, introducing herself as Niki and talking to him as she did her stuff.

When the officer finally walked in, Techno was about at his limit. 

Tommy wasn’t with him.

“Where’s my son?”

The officer sighed. “Mate, we have a lot to go through before I even get to that.” Techno waited for the man to sit down, taking a breath, settling himself. “You were living in that tent, weren’t you?”

Techno didn’t even think about lying. He nodded, shifting himself so he could sit a little higher.

“And your son was staying with you?”

“Yes.” Techno clenched his teeth together. He knew Tommy would end up in a foster home after this, it had been on his mind this entire time, but he needed him to be safe over being with him.

“Legally?”

“Obviously not.” Techno glared. “But the last time I checked, kids living on the street aren’t a priority. I at least sheltered him somewhat. Made sure he was eating.”

“I’m not questioning your ability to care for a kid,” he said with his palms splayed, like he was trying to be an open book and was decidedly not. “He seemed well taken care of from what I saw—”

“You have him?” Techno was almost breathless with anticipation. He needed Tommy to be ok. Tommy was plenty capable, sure, but not the most grounded person. If something in his life got uprooted, he’d revert to old habits and probably form some nasty new ones.

“We… don’t,” the officer spoke, and a stone embedded itself into Techno’s chest. “I saw him briefly, but he got spooked and ran. I’ve been checking the tent to see if he’s gone back but he hasn’t.”

Of course he wouldn’t. Tommy wasn’t like that.

“And you searched for him elsewhere?” Techno held onto a shred of hope, hope that he wasn’t there .

“We have the whole team on the lookout, but he’s stayed hidden.”

He’s there.

He went there.

Techno drew in a breath.

“I know where he is.” He shuddered at the realization. Tommy… could be hurt. Or worse. So much worse. “And… hell , ok. It’s not going to be pretty. But you have to promise with the absolute best of your ability to get him to a good home.”

The officer’s look softened. “Mate, I always try. It’s hard, nowadays. Nothing… nothing is like it used to be.”

“No, it’s not.” But it was never that way for Techno. Techno never got lucky. He never got a break. He was dropped on the concrete at age ten and had never left.

He probably could have, if he’d stayed there . He’d be a whole three social classes higher if he’d stayed.

He’d left to protect himself from the effects of that and had hoped to protect others like him from going down that way too.

“I’ll get him to a good home,” the man promised. “I’d never try to shortcut something like that.”

Techno nodded, drawing up his barriers so he could get through this without overwhelming himself. He couldn’t go into his instincts, not yet.

“Paper?”

Techno wrote down what he knew with the promise of Officer Phil Watson that they’d take down the ring in two days. No more.

Techno hoped that it would be soon enough that no damage would be done to the boy he’d claimed as his own.

—

Tommy had only lost once out of five fights, but even then the crowd had also known it was unfair. All he’d been was a mouse in a lion’s cage, testing to see how he would do in a straight-up chase.

Besides that, the ring had yet to throw him a challenge he couldn’t beat.

So why did he feel so fucking shitty?

“Ay! Tommay!” Quackity barged into the room he shared with two others, and they both scrambled out when the owner waltzed in. “Ready for your next fight? The crowd is loving you!”
Tommy had his arms wrapped around his chest, which was painted black and blue. His wrist spiked with pain every time he moved it. He had a bandaged cut on his left leg, and his head was throbbing endlessly, no matter how much water Tommy downed to try and make it stop.

So Tommy choked, words catching in his throat. He hadn’t even been here a week, how was he supposed to ask for a break?

“Um,” he started not-so-strongly. “Do you think I could… skip this one?”

Quackity blinked, as if his systems were restarting, before starting to chuckle and eventually delving into full laughter. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that! I thought you were serious.” He clapped Tommy on the shoulder, making Tommy wince at the bruise he irritated. “Now, you’re up in ten minutes. I chose a really good competitor for you tonight, so you’ll have a good fight but I think you’ll still give him hell. Careful, though, he’s a little violent.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say. He goggled with what he presumed was a horrified look on his face as Quackity waltzed toward the door again, buzzing with excitement.

“Good luck, amigo!” He called, grasping the edge of the door and starting to pull it closed. That was when Tommy finally gained his wits, leaping to his feet with some struggle.

“Wait! Quackity, I was being serious—”

The door slammed. Tommy had a feeling it was a warning.

There were no rules in the pit, Tommy had learned that quickly after the spider-hybrid told him such. What he wasn’t planning to learn was that just outside of the pit underneath the roaring of the stands, there were several rules that if you didn’t follow, would leave you in worse shape than you came in.

One: everything left unattended is up for grabs. Tommy had set his sandwich down after the first night to get water from one of the holders and came back to find it missing.

Tommy knew better than to leave his things alone now. He kept everything on him until he got inches away from the ring, leaving it in a locked box made for the competitors. Even now, dreading his very existence, Tommy counted up all his things, which wasn’t very much, and slung the bag around his shoulders.

Two: you patch yourself up. No one is going to help you. That included Tommy because when he’d offered to help someone wrap their arm after a nasty fight, they had struck him with a fist to the temple. It was a warrior’s honor to fix their own wounds, apparently.

Tommy had luckily been able to get by just fine with the things he’d had, buying some supplies from the counters they provided and the measly money he earned. He expected more from how loud the crowd was, but the few dollars seemed to go a long way in these dungeons.

Three: no one leaves.

And maybe that seemed ominous when Tommy had first asked, but he got it now. He passed people backstage who’d clearly been there for months, working their way up the system with wins and losses. But it was obvious that no one there, even the ones who’d been there since the ring was formed those few months ago, couldn’t get anything out in the real world with the savings they had. You didn’t leave because you couldn’t. You’d come crawling right back.

Tommy breathed in as deeply as he could possibly could with his aching ribs and the smell of must and sweat. He pushed his way to the competitor line, where the fight right before his was just wrapping up. He already felt nauseous just looking at them from the sliver of view he was allowed back here. They were throwing punches and kicking and screaming until their voices burned, and Tommy, who’d already done that for five days straight, didn’t know if he could do that again.

But of course, there were four rules.

Four: you are not in charge. You do as you’re told.

Tommy couldn’t leave, not without Techno. So he would fight, because that’s what he was told.

There was that little part of him that remembered what Techno had said that first day, about his own experience with a ring like this.

I’ve been there, Tommy. Don’t turn yourself to fighting rings for money, no matter how confident you are, it won’t end well.

Tommy hadn’t totally been confident before. He hadn’t been thinking, he’d been hopeless and worthless and reckless and he needed stability— any kind of stability would do. The first one he’d thought of was this.

So now he’s here.

The fight was over. The bell was ringing. Tommy put his bag in the chest when it opened, and it was sealed away. His prize for surviving, he realized, was getting his things back.

He marched onto the sand with nerves still firing on all cylinders. He wasn’t used to this yet. The crowd gave him tunnel vision, and the announcer’s voice rang in his ears for hours after it was over. And the hits stayed with him, he could feel every punch against his skin, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they hit something that couldn’t be ignored.

Then his eyes focused on his opponent.

A piglin. That piglin. The one that had been after Tommy’s backpack all those weeks ago, and that had come back again to chase him to Techno’s work.

Tommy could hold his own against a piglin maybe with distractions and places to run, but in a ring? There was nowhere to go. There were high walls and fine sand, and the doors had already closed.

“Nice to see you again, kitty,” he smiled, baring the tusks that poked out from his lips. “I guess you really didn’t have a laptop in that bag, did ya?”

“I’m a raccoon, you fucking dickwad,” Tommy spat back at him. He’d hidden his tail beneath his pants to keep it out of range of people’s hands, but he still had plenty of features that could easily identify him. “Would you rather I return the favor, warthog?”
“One round!” The announcer rang through Tommy’s ears. “Sudden death.”

“And it’s going to be your death if you say that again, fleabag.”

“Come and get me, walrus.”

The bell rang, and Tommy took an immediate punch to the jaw. Tommy felt like it was still grinding against his cheek even after he forced himself to punch back, missing and getting his fist caught. He pulled back only to get hit in the nose and the abdomen at the same time.

He doubled over, as that had been one of his very sensitive spots. Already he was seeing stars and was knocked to the ground in just another few seconds.

The crowd began to boo. Tommy did his best to block them out but they seemed to reach just the right frequency so that his entire body was vibrating with it.

“Aww, look at the little kitty,” the piglin taunted. “All ready for a nap.”

When he bent over to survey the damage he’d dealt, Tommy locked his grip around the piglin’s shirt and pulled. He went down with an inhuman squeal, at least managing to avoid hitting Tommy on his way down and getting a face full of sand.

Tommy kicked him in his side and started to scramble to his feet, only to get pulled down by a lashed-out arm. He struggled until he was pulled into the piglin’s range, his legs pulled underneath the rest of the piglin’s body as he began to come at him with not only his fists, but the claws that were at the end of his hands too.

Techno’s hands had always been soft. His claws were neat and kind of pointy, but not threatening if Tommy were to accidentally bump into it. This guy’s though? They could have been knives.

He believed he blacked out for a solid couple of seconds because when his body finally understood what was happening, Tommy felt like he had gone through a paper shredder. He was bleeding, and his shirt was soaked and sticky. Tommy tried to claw back but his arms had taken the most of the damage and he could barely lift them.

He wouldn’t win this. He’d already known that, but being presented with the evidence hurt.

“Where’d the fight go, hairball?” The piglin was pulling him to his feet— no, no, Tommy wanted to be done. He had to have his wrists on the ground to be done. “I thought you had a win-streak.”

Tommy growled. It was a weak little thing, he was so tired, but he couldn’t return the taunts. Words were lost on him, he only had so long until his human brain just gave out.

“Come on, this is no fun! I wanted to see you cry .”

Tommy was back on the ground, being pressed into the sand. He hadn’t even noticed the world tipping.

His cuts burned. His bruises were throbbing. He was sure his headache would be far worse if he’d been actually able to focus on the pain.

“Fine,” the piglin returned the growl. “I’m not letting you lose .”

Tommy’s hands were trapped between one of his. Fuck, fuck , he couldn’t tap out unless his wrists were on the ground.

The piglins other hand pressed against Tommy’s neck.

His eyes blew wide in an instant. This couldn’t be right. None of his opponents before had tried something like this. It was against the—

There are no rules in the pit.

He thrashed desperately, trying to pry his fingers out of his grip or release the hold on his neck. His chest was on fire , trying to get oxygen and failing miserably. What was he supposed to do? This piglin was bigger than him, stronger than him, and wasn’t tired.

Tommy was so tired.

His ears cut off with an almost mechanical screeching noise. He might have thought it was his own screaming if the piglin hadn’t released in shock, spinning around and forgetting about Tommy entirely. Tommy, however, was gagging on the floor, coughing and spitting and gasping for air. He didn’t care what the screeches were, he could have been dead.

“ It’s the police!” He thought he heard over the announcer’s mic, but he couldn’t even understand words anymore. It was all slipping by like butter. The lights, the screaming, the movement around him… it wasn’t even there, and neither was Tommy, really.

“Hey, hey,” an unfamiliar voice cooed to him, or it should have been, it was kind of worried. “Prime, kid. What did you get yourself into?”

There was a chittering sound and— Tommy knew that sound! That was his sound! He chittered back, which calmed him quite a bit. The wounds didn’t seem as dire anymore.

“I’ve got him,” Wilbur spoke into his radio over an out-of-it Tommy. “He’s bad, but I’ll get him to an EMT. He doesn’t need the hospital. Just… a lot of love I think is the best way to put it.”

Where’d the chittering go? Tommy did it again, following it with a short whimper. He couldn’t be alone, he was so scared to be alone.

“I’m right here,” Wilbur spoke to him, a cooing sound following that the kid relaxed into. “You probably don’t understand me right now, but my name is Officer Wilbur Soot. I’m helping Techno find you.”

If there was one word Tommy’s hindbrain could recognize, it was Techno.

He opened his eyes blearily, trying to find him. He was here, wasn’t he? He would come to find him?

Instead, all Tommy saw was another raccoon hybrid, smiling worryingly. “We should get you up. I’m going to carry you. Just hold still.” Wilbur cooed afterward, which made Tommy go still again. Wilbur scooped him up to his chest, holding him close as they walked through the building, uncaring of the blood that was getting on his uniform.

Tommy fell asleep before he could figure out what was going on or where he ended up.

—

“Oh, Tommy, ” he breathed, not daring to lift his voice more than a whisper. The kid was gently deposited in his arms, his little tail poking out and swishing even in his sleep. Techno wrapped his arms around the kid, already moving a hand to rub circles into the spots behind his ears.

“Please don’t wake him,” Phil told him in another whisper, now back in civilian clothing. “Last time he was awake he was stuck in his hindbrain, injured, on the floor of the arena. I have no idea how that will affect him when he wakes so… just be quiet, be gentle, alright?”

Phil didn’t have to tell him twice. Techno let his body fall around the kid, tucking him into his still-injured chest. He let out a hesitant purr and watched as Tommy’s body practically melted in response. It dragged up a sleepy purr of his own, a tiny vibration right over Techno’s heart.

He was ok. He was hurt, but he was ok.

Both of them would be fine after this. They made it.

He brushed a thumb over the white bandages poking out from under his shirt, smoothing the edges. He minded the wrist brace with extra care. He’d heard the whole story and had pressed for where every scrape, bruise, and blister littered Tommy’s skin.

But he was intact, much more than Techno had been all those years ago.

“You’re so strong,” Techno told him, even if he didn’t hear it. Tommy’s purrs deepened anyway. “So brave. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and pressed his face to Tommy’s head. “I should have been stronger. I’m sorry.”

Phil watched the two of them from the corner, an idea drumming in his mind like it had been for three days. Tommy’s current emergency foster wouldn’t keep him for more than a week, and with the busted fighting ring, there was an influx of kids that needed to be relocated. Tommy didn’t have much of a chance of staying in the city unless some angel swooped down and declared that they would be taking him in.

Phil couldn’t separate these two. He couldn’t do that to them. He’d never forgive himself. It was personal now. Tommy shouldn’t even be here, but since Wilbur was his kid, and he had been the one to arrange things for Tommy, Phil managed to pull some strings.

Phil got out his phone and sent a note to his superior.

He got a confirmation not three minutes later.

—

“Well, good news,” Niki clicked her pen over her clipboard. “You’re being released to do the rest of your recovery on your own.” Techno nodded at the information, he knew it was coming. He couldn’t pay anything, so the hospital could only take him so long. “On the pretense that you won’t be returning to that tent you were living in.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “Where am I going, then?”

“Someone has offered to take you in for the foreseeable future,” Niki explained with a waving hand, getting her things ready to do one last check-up on Techno’s health. “He’s been in here a few times. Officer Phil Watson?”

Techno was a little surprised, to say the least. He knew Phil was trying to be helpful from the visits outside of working hours and the updates on Tommy’s whereabouts. Phil had told him that Tommy moved into his long-term foster home yesterday and that he was taking it as well as he could have.

Techno was happy for him. Maybe he’d get a normal childhood from here on out.

And hey, Phil wasn’t bad. Techno wouldn’t protest at spending the next couple of weeks at Phil’s place until he could go back to his construction job and his faded orange tent, with the poor monotony of life ticking away.

“He’ll be by to get you in an hour,” Niki continued after Techno’s silence. “But for right now, we have to do a quick check-up to make sure things haven’t gotten worse overnight. Could you stand up for me?”

Tommy would have a good life, even if Techno wasn’t in it. All he’d wanted for Tommy was to be safe, happy, and healthy when he took him in. Now he’d get all of those things. Techno’s job was done.

—

“Here we are,” Phil smiled, rattling his keys around to open the front door. Techno was taking cautious steps, careful not to agitate anything. “Home sweet home.”

Techno grunted in reply, getting himself through the door so he could latch a hand around the railing of the staircase to the right. It was a quaint little thing, as most were in this city. A narrow hallway and staircase parallel to each other. There was a kitchen and a living room up ahead, and what he could assume was a bathroom. Upstairs he could imagine two or three bedrooms, maybe an attic if the ceiling wasn’t slanted up there.

There were footsteps creaking the floors upstairs, probably Wilbur’s from what Phil had told him.

“It’s an old house,” Phil was explaining, like he was filling time. “So it squeaks and rattles and such. Don’t be alarmed by anything it might do at night, it’s not happy in the winter.”

Techno had lived on the streets. Unless Phil’s house made gunshot sounds at night he wouldn’t have a problem.

“Wilbur!” Phil called up the stairs. “Come greet our guest.”

“Coming!” Wilbur called back down, muffled from the floors, but Techno still heard him curse to himself, like he’d stubbed his toe or something. “No— get back here!”

Techno scrunched up his face. “Do you have a pet or something?” Phil didn’t strike him as that kind of person, and he shouldn’t judge but… it was strange if Wilbur was chasing an inanimate object around upstairs.

“Uh,” Phil laughed. “Not exactly.”

“You little shit! You haven’t even been here a day!” Wilbur’s voice was getting louder, Techno was getting more and more confused, and Phil was trying very hard to keep his laughter inside. “Get off the curtains!”
“Make me, bitch!” Came a reply. And Techno may have done a factory reset.

“Tommy?” He asked just in a whisper, like it would shatter if he spoke it aloud. Phil gave him a knowing look. “Tommy?” He called louder, and the footsteps from upstairs froze before rushing like a tidal wave down the stairs.

“Techno!” Tommy shouted, racing down the stairs. “Techno! Techno! ”

His adrenaline must have kicked in because though it had been a struggle to pull himself out of the car just two minutes ago, he lifted Tommy up off the ground with ease. “Kid,” Techno said back, though this time with a smile.

“Not a kid,” Tommy muttered back, still wiggling his way under Techno’s chin.

“Tommy,” Phil spoke, trying to get his attention. Tommy gave it to him reluctantly, still leaning back into Techno’s chest. “Techno’s going to be staying with us until he’s healed, and you have to be gentle with him.”

“Unlike what happened to me,” Wilbur mumbled, though, with the creeping smile, it must have been lighthearted.

“And Techno,” Phil nodded toward him. “We’re fostering Tommy for the time being.”

Phil had done all this for them.

“What happens after?” Tommy spoke up, clutching Techno’s shirt like they would be separated in the next moment. “Where’s Techno gonna go?”

“Hopefully,” Phil began, “And I mean hopefully, because there’s no real guarantee. So hopefully, Wilbur and I will help Techno get back on his feet, put a downpayment on an apartment, and get some stability, and once that happens, we can help Techno get custody of you.”

Techno didn’t want to cry, but he didn’t think anyone would judge him for it if he did.

Maybe the world didn’t really hate him. Maybe it wasn’t taking what little happiness Techno had in his life.

“You would do all of that?” Techno asked, trying to keep the memory reverently tucked between the softest blankets Techno had.

“Mate, I would never forgive myself if I separated you two,” Phil sighed. “We’re on your side. We’re here to help at every step.”

You can stop fighting, went unsaid, but Techno heard it in the loving purrs that reverberated inside Tommy’s little chest.

Even if he’d left the arena, he never did stop fighting. There were always things to fight for. But now he had some extra tricks up his sleeve, some extra guards at his back, and the most precious thing in the world right in his arms.

No more fighting. He could rest.