Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Tommy. Wake up, Tommy.” There was a hint of amusement in Dream’s voice. The thrill of bringing someone back to life. He’d done it with Friend and Henry, but those were just animals. This was a person. A real person that he’d killed with his own hands. Served the kid right. 

The rituals were still drawn out in Tommy’s blood around the broken body, symbol in both familiar scripts and languages too ancient for even him to know their origin. He’d practiced this twice before and now he waited for that spark of light and the rapid rise and fall of the boy’s chest. 

“Tommy, look, I saved you!” Dream said, he shook the limp arm, felt for a pulse. Nothing. 

“Tommy?” Dream pulled his mask from his face and rubbed at his eyes. He repeated the words again, the heat from the lava wall feeling nearly unbearable at this proximity. He tried the words that he’d burned into his brain again. Desperation growing with every repetition. 

The lava light flickered in wafting shadows over the boy’s face. For once so quiet. For once quieter than Dream wanted him to be. Why wasn’t it working?

The control he so desperately sought after withered away in his hands, his words did nothing, the symbols cracked with dried blood on the obsidian, and Dream’s plan had once again failed. 

-- 

“I don’t want to leave him in there anymore, not like that.” Sam couldn’t meet the man’s piercing gaze since the door of the cabin had been opened for him. Snow still clung to the tips of his hair and the shoulders of his Warden armor. He warmed his hands, telling himself that it was just the cold that left them trembling so. 

“So Ranboo was telling the truth,” Techno said. There was a brief pause, an extra swallow that seemed out of place for one who always seemed so stoic and confident. 

“I tried to get there in time, but I couldn’t figure out the security breach…” It was Sam’s turn to swallow down the lump growing in his throat and shove down the guilt that wavered in his voice alongside it. “I know you two aren’t on the best terms, but he – he deserves a proper burial at the very least. He shouldn’t be left to rot away in there.” 

“So you want me to go in and get him.” Techno filled in the gaps of the conversation. 

Sam simply nodded, “Please.” 

“Who’s to say I won’t just break Dream out, you know I owe him a favor.” 

Sam’s mind spiraled for a moment, he hadn’t thought about that. Was his idea doomed from the start? Those were the rules, all prior relations with the inmate had to be disclosed before entry. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. Who else was he supposed to trust to go and retrieve the body? He couldn’t have a repeat of what happened the last time he allowed visitors. He couldn’t handle more blood on his hands. The boy’s screams stalked his every moment like a loyal wolf. 

His hand dropped to his side as he looked up, finally meeting the blood red eyes of Techno. “A favor to me then.” 

“A favor you say?” An eyebrow raised and interest piqued. 

“Techno, just…” His frustration nearly exploded out, he’d held it in for so long when he only needed an answer. Maybe he could have some peace, maybe then, he could see that it never happened again. “Will you do it? I can’t let anyone else die on my watch.” 

The pause that followed was long, Techno pacing around his home, petting his polar bear, opening a chest, all facing away from Sam so he couldn’t even try to judge the look on his face. 

“Techno?” 

“Huh?” Techno turned around suddenly, startled. “Oh, yeah I suppose I can do it. For a favor of course.” There was no conviction in the man before him, just a faraway look.“I’ll stop by tomorrow morning, I’ve got business out that way anyways.” 

The agreement should have left him alleviated, but in the stillness Sam found the weight of the last week still weighed upon him like an anvil. 

“Thanks, I’ll – well I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Sam left without another word exchanged, back into the bitter cold. He still needed to stop in Snowchester that evening. 

--

Techno watched Sam trek through the blizzard that had blown in that afternoon until his torch was no more than a speck on the horizon. It was only then that he allowed himself to breath. A heavy, shaky breath sputtered out as he braced himself against the windowsill. 

He hated the kid, right? He was just another lying and traitorous wannabe hero, destined for tragedy. Already a tragedy without any place in the stars. And yet so many nights since Doomsday he’d found himself staring up to the sky, to where he’d pointed out Theseus to Tommy what seemed like years ago. Theseus was nowhere to be found on the sky that night, hidden away behind thick clouds and snow. 

The more he tried to convince himself that this was just a favor, the less he believed it himself. The death he offered Tommy was a hero’s exit, a way to bow out with grace and be remembered for what he tried to be no matter how sour the origins. This…well he still wasn’t sure what happened, but knowing Dream, that wasn’t the death the boy deserved. To think he’d been so confident  when Ranboo first broke the news. 

He wasn’t sure if confidence was the right word for it. Deflection? Stalling? Tommy didn’t just die. He’d been sure that he’d be walking around the SMP one day and he’d hear Tommy running after him. Begging for diamonds or antagonizing him in the way only he could. And he’d act annoyed, but he’d still smile at his jokes and poke fun at how poor he was, and it would be almost like it was. How they’d been before the wars and betrayal. Tommy would march munching on carrots and talking with his mouth full like a toddler. Techno wasn’t  careless enough to ever put any trust or hope in the boy. Children were stupid, emotional, and prone to fits of fancy and impulsiveness. Tommy probably didn’t even know the meaning of the world  impulsive  Techno should have gotten him a dictionary. But, if his lessons on mythology didn’t sink in, he doubted a book of word definitions would have done much good either. He’d probably have tossed it the first moment he got. 

Irony had never been a notable part of his life. Sure he analyzed the stories and watched as their lives descended into tragedy, the dramatic irony of it being he knew how it would end every time. Achilles would fall. Pyramus and Thisbe would meet their tragic ends. Arachne would be doomed to spin for the rest of her life. It all fell into the same pattern and he’d played right into it. He thought he’d known how this was going to end, but he’d been just as foolish Icarus thinking he could tempt the sun without getting hurt. He scowled at that thought. 

Through the frosted window fractals, a familiar winged form appeared like a shadowy angel against the backdrop of the warm lights. 

Phil. He was going to have to tell Phil about Sam’s request.

Thoughts and shouts ricocheted around his brain in a cacophony of voices muddled in with his own thoughts. Too many to keep track of. Usually their thoughts were rather unison, if only in different flavors. Kill him. Blood for the blood god. Choose violence. The message was always the same. He genuinely knew what he wanted. They contradicted each other every time he could pull one or two phrases out. Spilled over and crossed each other out in conflicting messages and arguments as though he could wade through them all. Get Tommy’s body. Don’t do it. Help Dream escape. Don’t tell Phil his son is dead. One of us. One of us. Kill Dream. Blood for the blood god. As a lesbian I think you’re actually pretty funny. Help Tommy. Don’t help Tommy. Listen to us. Don’t listen to us. 

He slammed the door open, snow swirling into his home and stepped towards his oldest friend. 

--

“You’re not going alone.”

“This could end badly.” 

“You’re not going alone.” Philza reiterated, wings stretched out wide behind him. 

Techno rubbed the back of his neck and held Phil’s gaze for a moment longer. 

“I won’t stop you, but I don’t know what’s going to happen here and someone’s got to take care of Steve and make sure that Ranboo kid doesn’t go all main character on us.” 

“We’ve seen worse together, mate. And I – just, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Phil smiled at him and Techno’s eyes were drawn immediately to the portraits of Wilbur and Tommy in his friend’s home. Two of Phil’s kids, nothing more than bodies in the ground with the remnants of their work discarded in a crater. 

Techno turned to leave but a small “wait” from Phil left his hand resting on the door. 

“What are you going to do about Dream?” 

“It won’t be a problem.” Techno said, weight resting against the door, the voices chanting in his head. 

“And if he asks for that favor?” 

“It won’t be a problem.” 

--

Techno hadn’t expected to see Ranboo standing outside the prison that next morning. He didn’t ask questions as Tubbo buried his face into the half-enderman’s shirt, firework burns scaring the visible cheek. Ranboo tried not to make eye contact, he wasn’t sure if that was his enderman side or not, but there was still worry in his face as Techno walked past the two. His cape fluttering behind him like he was marching in a parade and not about to procure a corpse He turned away from the pair. As much as he disliked Tubbo, the kid still deserved to mourn. 

Sam waited in front of the prison, his warden armor on and sword sheathed at his hip. In the dark and snow it had been easier to  overlook the guilt that sallowed every aspect of his frame. Eyes sunken in and downcast, his lips perpetually parted as though he was about to apologize, and the way his body crumpled further with every exhale. This was not the Sam that he knew. Techno didn’t want to consider what had transpired to leave such an empty shell behind. 

He led them inside and asked Tubbo and Ranboo to stay in the lobby. Tubbo briefly protested before Ranboo assured him that it was going to be okay. Even though his face soured further at the words, he nodded his head and took a seat, eyes blank and red as Ranboo rubbed his hand on his back. 

Phil was allowed through after a brief moment of hushed conversation between Sam and Phil. Through the hushed arguments, Techno turned away when he heard Phil demand “Let me see where you killed my son.” Had this been any other instance he would have said something light hearted to jab fun at his oldest friend, but he had no words. His mouth long dried out as he kept his focus on the task at hand. 

The trek through the prison happened in near silence, the only words exchanged were instructions from Sam. Even the voices were unusually quiet, as if they too finally lost their words. Or maybe it was just the mining fatigue. 

Most of the night he spent in fitful sleep. He’d seen Tommy, alive and bright eyed as he stared in awe and terror at the vault. Until the dream flashed dark and his body lay crumpled on the floor beneath an armor stand with Dream’s voice echoing triumph’s throughout the vault. There was no peace in those dreams. For the hours he lay awake he puzzled through potential responses to the confrontation he and  Dream might have. The voices, ever agitated, were happy to provide their own suggestions. 

“Please stay there,” Sam instructed Philza to remain in the back of the room while instructing Techno to step onto the platform. 

“Make sure you move with the platform and if anything goes wrong…” Sam reached into his pocket and offered two potions of fire resistance. “I can pull you and… him… back through the lava.” 

“It’s no problem Sam. I can handle Dream.” Techno said with a tight smile. Sam did not return it. 

“Yell if you need anything.” 

The lava wall fell and Techno took sure steps across the platform as it inched through the lava pool. The prison cell stood out like a dark speck in a snowy field. As the distance between them closed, Dream seemed to notice the sounds of a new visitor. Even at their distance, Techno could spot the sliver of a smile below Dream’s mask. 

“Well what do I owe this pleasure?” Dream stood at the front of the prison cell as Techno entered. 

“Just here to do business for Sam.” Techno said, eyes scanning the room before he spotted the body and immediately recoiled. That wasn’t something he did. He’d seen death before. He was known as the Blood God for Notch’s sake. Yet the sight of the boy he’d thought of as a little brother at more than one time in his life, crumpled on the floor like a marionette whose strings had all been cut, blood and bruising over his face as his eyes stared cloudy and lifeless towards where Dream stood, still smiling. 

Some of the voices were crying. Some laughed. Techno pulled off his cape and laid it over the body before turning his attention towards Dream. Around them, weeping obsidian cried out for the sins committed and the sins that would be committed if Techno stayed around much longer. His sword was with Sam but he hardly needed a sword to leave another body smashed against the wall

“Want a tour? I used to have a clock, but he destroyed it.” Dream nodded towards the lump under the cloak. 

“I don’t think a tour is necessary.” The room was small enough. 

“You knew how this story ended, Techno.” Dream must have been able to see the burning fire in his chest, despite the darkened cell.

Techno didn’t respond. He picked up the body, making sure to wrap what he could in his cloak. It wasn’t much but he didn’t want the others to see. The lifeless face of the boy should only haunt one of them at night. 

“So Techno, about that favor.” 

Techno snapped his attention to Dream, eyes narrowed. “Sorry Dream, a bit busy with another favor right now.” He called out for Sam to bring the bridge back. 

Dream no longer smiled, what was left of his blood spattered mask contradicting his emotions. 

“We made a deal.”

“Maybe another time.” 

“I thought you hated that kid.” 

“I do.” 

“And you choose him over me?” 

Techno stayed silent for a moment as he looked between Tommy and Dream. The body in his arms was too still- too small. He placed Tommy’s body back down on the ground and took off his crown. It had seen him through so many battles and so many victories. Dream was smiling again and Techno cursed his mind for how even after death the kid still had a way of being endearing. He placed the crown over where Tommy’s head would be and lifted him back up. This wasn’t the hero’s death the kid deserved, but it was all Techno could offer.

He stepped back onto the platform and walked away without another word. He fashioned himself into another version of himself, focused on the end goal and trying not to think about how heavily the body in his arms weighed upon him. One never truly understood the concept of dead weight until carrying a child from their execution chamber. 

Every step felt painfully slow as the heat burned from below, the kid’s own ripped pants singed and torn from whatever fight had ensued. The voices had gone silent once again, as though performing their own reverie in respect for the dead. Only hums remained, easy enough to drown out from the bubble of the lava around them. 

He almost didn’t hear Sam muttering “Oh god,” over and over again, hand clasped against  his mask. Phil watched quietly from the corner,  wings held closely in a shadow behind him. 

Techno moved forward with a vindication he saved for the battlefield, Sam remaining quiet as he led them back through the halls until they were back in the main hall. By then his vision blurred red on the edges and he kept urging some sign of life to erupt in his arms. Still  there was nothing. 

Phil walked beside him the entire time and never took his eyes off the crown and how it rested in his arms like some badge of honor. 

“No no no no no, Sam you said you’d protect him!” Tubbo screamed the moment they stepped through the nether portal. “Sam! How could you Sam! How could you?” 

Ranboo held him back, tears in his own eyes as Tubbo struggled in his arms. He fought like if he just touched Tommy once more it would bring him back, but not even the gods could bring back the dead. 

“Tommy! Tommy stop it! This isn’t funny! Please! What was this all for? Tommy please- what was this all for?” Tubbo had given up fighting Ranboo and had collapsed on the floor, screaming through the tears.

He couldn’t look at them, couldn’t watch Ranboo struggle to keep his wits about him to comfort Tubbo as he fought against every emotion he had. Tears threatening to leave more scars running down his cheeks. Couldn’t watch Tubbo crumble as everything he fought for hung  limp in his arms. 

It felt wrong, like a book whose ending had been replaced with another. The dead deserved respect. The dead should not be so small. The dead should not be a child who’d called him brother once upon a time. This was not the death that a hero earned. 

He sucked in a breath of the cool morning air as he stepped outside and looked down at the body, remembering all the times Tommy had stolen his crown and cloak to wear. Now he was dressed in them once more, the vestiges of a prince finally laid to rest.

A brief glance behind himself to see how close the others were revealed Phil had already flown off. Only Tubbo and Ranboo were visible, still in the same spot he’d left them.

He laughed a little, tried not to think about the tear that dropped onto the crimson of the cloak, and let out a shaky breath. 

“Welcome home, Theseus.”