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Chapter Text

The only thing worse than exile was growing wings in exile.

The pain was excruciating, like a thousand knives stabbing out of his back, rather than in. He had screamed himself hoarse by the time that they had pushed out. He didn't even have the energy to check the damage, he had passed out immediately afterwards.

Waking up, Tommy alleviated his previous opinion. The only thing worse than exile was the aftermath of growing wings in exile.

The blood had dried and crusted to his back leaving him itchy and uncomfortable. Yet, he barely had the energy to twitch, let alone clean himself up. Not that he was inclined to do so. Every moment caused a new throb of pain in his back and the weight was...distracting at best. A weight he didn't fully grasp the meaning of.

But all of these aches and pains were secondary to the all-consuming loneliness he felt. Tommy was used to being lonely (or so he thought). He was lonely all the time in exile. No one came to visit except Dream. So that feeling in his gut was consistent and unyielding. It had become background noise, at this point. Something he pushed to the back of his brain because sure it's true but it wasn't going to change so why waste time thinking about it. The sky is blue, grass is green and Tommy is lonely.

But now, it was unbearable. He was hyper aware of the fact that no one else was around for miles. It was almost enough to distract him from the pain in his back. Almost.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, feeling so alone and scared but eventually, Tommy realized that there were tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked fast, horrified and trying to hold them at bay. Why was this happening? It didn't seem normal. Tommy had dealt with wounds, emotional and physical before, with others and by himself. It had never been this emotionally taxing. Still, his body didn't get the memo and the longer he stayed there, completely alone, the harder it was to not break into sobs.

He wanted to be held. He wanted Tubbo to sit and run his fingers through his hair while Cat played in the background. He wanted Ghostbur to pull him close and stain him blue while he rambled on about the things he had seen that day.

Fuck at this point he'd even take-

"Tommy?!"

Dream.

****

So. He had wings now. That was a thing.

Dream had been pissed at first, accusing Tommy of hiding it from him. The blank stare coupled with the tears that Tommy couldn't stem (to his own utter humiliation) convinced the masked man that Tommy had been just as clueless of his hybrid state.

The next few days, Tommy had been extra helpless. He could barely walk, let alone sit up. Dream had to come and bring him food and water, helping him out of the tent to do his business in the woods. It sucked. And it was bullshit, in Tommy's humble opinion. He grew wings not legs. Why was he so weak?

It didn't help that Dream was constantly reminding him of how useless he was right now. Sure, it was true but Dream didn't need to rub it in his face. Yet, even with his sharp words, he still brought Tommy food. Still checked on him everyday. He came to see him and care for him when no one else did. So what if he was never full? So what if it barely satisfied that ache in his chest, constantly demanding attention? It was better than nothing.

He found himself craving Dream's presence as the days went on. It had been about two weeks since he had sprouted the fuckers and they had gone from naked and ugly to fluffy and ugly. It seemed like as his feathers grew so did his clinginess to Dream. It was starting to remind him of those hours spent alone just after the wings had pushed out. He tried not to be obvious, he didn't want to annoy Dream. The man was already doing so much for him. But he had a feeling Dream knew of his need for his presence. Dream hadn't said anything yet but Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before his friend got tired of him and left for good.

When Dream wasn't around, Tommy found solace with Mushroom Henry. The mooshroom was warm and something inside Tommy - that had gotten stronger as the days went by - reveled in the heat. He even found out he slept better with the cow than in his own bed. It was like he couldn't get comfortable no matter what position he settled in.

It was mid day, Dream had left not too long ago, and Tommy was cuddling with Mushroom Henry when the crow came.

He hadn't noticed it at first. Tommy was half-asleep, as relaxed as he could be since the wings came, when a shadow passed over him. And again. And again. Ugh.

"I'm alive! Go eat something else!" He shouted at the circling birds, waving one arm lazily. It wasn't unusual for scavenger birds to mistake his still form for a snack. Mushroom Henry huffed and shifted and he patted her flank consolingly for shouting so close to her.

Tommy tried to settle back down to his half relaxed state but it was like his senses refused to get the memo. His new appendages kept twitching (funny how they always seemed to do the opposite of what he wanted) and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He finally opened his eyes and glanced around, expecting to see a wolf or something about to devour him. But there was nothing in sight except for the birds who were still circling him.

It was when he glanced up at them, one hand coming up to shield his eyes from the sun, that his wings jolted. His gut moved right along with them and Tommy found himself instinctively glancing around for shelter.

"The fuck…?" He mumbled, freaked out. He looked at Mushroom Henry, who stared back, relaxed and not at all stressed. Obviously, nothing was wrong but Tommy's body wasn't getting the memo. He felt adrenaline filling his veins, heart beginning to pound and all he could think about was finding shelter.

Then, one of the birds dived.

Tommy was moving before he could even process it, his body having a mind of it's own. He scrambled and lunged towards the first thing his eyes laid on. A spruce tree with low hanging branches. He heard a startled moo and sudden movement. His fast retreat frightened Mushroom Henry. He would have felt more guilty if he could feel anything other than panic at the moment.

"Stupid...fucking...bird shit…" He gasped, worn out already for the mad sprint to his cover. Already, the adrenaline was fading and Tommy felt exhausted. He leaned against the tree trunk and tried to catch his breath, face burning from exertion and humiliation. This couldn't be normal. Was something wrong with him? There were only two other winged hybrids in the server and Tommy didn't know Philza that well but he thinks he would've noticed if Quackity dove for cover anytime something flew overhead.

As if it could hear his thoughts, a loud caw drew his attention. Above him, settled on a branch was a crow. It was tilting its head back and forth, like it was observing his rattled state. It made another call and he glared.

"Fuck off!" He swiped one hand through the air, not having the energy to do much more than that. The crow did not leave, the bastard. It just stared at him, making an odd sound over and over.

God, it wasn't even a hawk or something that had startled him so bad. It was just a dumb crow. How humiliating was that. This is what big man Tommyinnit had been reduced to. Cowering from crows under a spruce tree, not even having the energy to chase it off.

Another loud caw but Tommy ignored it. The teenager laid his head on his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs. His wings seemed to get the memo and curled around his form as well.

After a few minutes of Tommy ignoring it's calls, the crow finally got the hint. He heard the flap of its wings growing distant and he glanced up, seeing it had left. He felt a tinge of guilt for ignoring it but he pushed it down. Dumb bird had ruined a perfectly fine day. Good riddance.

He sighed, leaning back and stretching his legs out. It took a bit to adjust into a position that didn't bother his wings too much (turns out tree bark and fluffy wings don't mix) but they finally settled. He could see Mushroom Henry had returned to a graze a few yards away. Her bright red body a stark contrast against the green. At least she didn't seem too upset about him interrupting her nap with his freak out. Plus, it had been getting rather hot with the sun directly overhead and it was nice and cool under the tree shade. As annoying as the crow and the weird bird instincts had been, things could've been worse. He allowed his eyes to drift closed, listening to distant bird songs and the crash of the waves.

Thump.

The noise wasn't loud but it still startled Tommy, his wings flaring out and throwing him off balance. He caught himself before he face planted and glanced around, expecting...well, he didn't know what but it couldn't be anything good.

But all he saw was a bag. Just outside of the reach of the tree branches. He stared, his mind trying to process what was happening when he heard a familiar caw.

Up above, resting on the same branch as before was the crow. Only, it had brought some friends along with it's return, two other crows perching alongside it. The three stared at him and he stared back. The original crow must have gotten tired of the impromptu contest as it broke his gaze to glance at the bag and back at him, letting out another loud caw.

Realization dawned on Tommy and he stared at the bag with more attention than before. It looked more like a sack with lumps outlining it's form.

"Is that...did you-" He glanced back at the crows and they all stared at him innocently.

Seeing that they'd be offering no answers, Tommy crawled over to the sack, trying to avoid being smacked by the low hanging branches. Closer now, he could see a stamp on the bag itself proudly stating that it was all natural home grown-

"Where the fuck did you get a bunch of potatoes?!" He laughed, pulling the bag closer and opening it up to see the contents. It was just as the label had stated. Russet potatoes, a little small and the sack was half empty but it was still more food in one sitting than Tommy had seen in a long while. Dream usually only brought him a little at a time so this was practically a feast. Tommy's stomach growled. Part of him was worried whomever had lost these would come looking for him but that part was drowned out by imagining just how the crows had to have brought it to him in the first place.

"Did-did you-" he snickered, struggling to speak through his laughter "did you guys have to carry it together? That's-" He gave up and screeched out his laughter. He hunched over the potatoes and laughed hard enough his stomach hurt. Tommy couldn't even decide if it was funny enough to warrant this level of reaction but he was exhausted and starving and some weird crows had just brought him a sack of raw potatoes. What the fuck even was his life anymore?

Eventually his giggles tapered off and he managed to catch his breath. With a loud sigh, Tommy calmed down and glanced over at the birds. They hadn't moved from their roosts, still staring at him quietly.

"Well...thanks. I don't have anything to give you, sorry." He shrugged. Tommy wasn't even sure if they understood him but it was nice to pretend. He missed talking to people. The only one that listened to him anymore was Dream and even he didn't like listening to Tommy for longer than an hour at most.

"Hey, if you guys stick around, I'll bake you one. Seems fair, yeah? And I gotta say, I make a mean baked potato. Learned from the best! My fri-uh, well, I used to have this friend that was obsessed with the stuff. He made so many I got sick of em," He looked down at the starchy wonders, his thoughts drifting to a different sort of exile. One somehow just as lonely even with people all around.

"It'll be just like old times, I guess."

He was driven from his thoughts by a fluttering of wings. One of the crows landed next to him, waddling closer to peck at the potatoes. There was no hesitance in its movement. It didn't see Tommy as a threat, at all. He huffed.

"Alright, I get it. Less talking, more cooking. I think you and Dream would get along." With a groan, Tommy pulled himself to his feet. His legs shook and he swayed with dizziness, grabbing onto a branch for balance. There was a loud squawk and he felt something touch the back of his head. He flinched, only realizing afterwards it must be one of the other crows.

"I'm good, I'm good. Jus' - gimme a sec."

It took an embarrassingly long time to make his way to the campfire with the potatoes but his only witnesses were Mushroom Henry - who was perfect in every way and would never judge Tommy - and the crows so really, who cared?

"Feast for kings!" An hour later, and the potatoes were baked through. Tommy, pressed the sides, splitting them open to let out the heat. He placed one on the ground and kept the other for himself.

"Careful, still hot though." There wasn't any real point in warning the crow, it couldn't understand him anyway but it was the thought that counted.

He munched on his much-too-hot tuber, burning his mouth but too hungry to care, and watched the crows gather around the other one.

"...you can eat those, right?" It was a little too late, the crows having descended on the snack. Tommy mentally prayed to Prime that he hadn't just poisoned his new companions.

The rest of the meal was consumed in silence and all too soon, Tommy had finished. He licked his fingers, and tried to ignore his growling stomach that demanded more. He still had a few potatoes left but resolved to save them for later. He shouldn't be greedy, one was more than enough.

The next day, Tommy wished he had just eaten another as he watched Dream blow the rest up.

But, the crows came back. Not every day, but more days than not they showed up with varying snacks that Tommy prepared and shared with them, eating a little for himself. He tried to ignore the nagging voice in his head pointing out that Dream didn't let him keep the potatoes, no way he'd be happy about these.

But it's not like Tommy was getting them, and if anything, he was doing it for the crows! It would be rude to shoo them away at this point. They were good company, too. Soothing that ache in his chest somewhat when Dream left him alone. They only ever seemed to show up when the masked man wasn't around and Tommy couldn't tell if that was intentional or not.

He ended up naming them, as well. Elizabeth, his beloved, was the one that started this all. He had forgiven the crow for the initial scare and she was the one that stopped by the most when the other two weren't around.

Pogboy was the loudest, loving to make her opinion known on anything and everything. Tommy had no clue what she wanted half the time but he liked her attitude.

And finally, Barbara. She was more touchy than the others, constantly trying to mess with Tommy's hair, and even his wings. He always shooed her away but she'd be trying again later when he was distracted.

Tommy had no clue if they were girls but they didn't protest the name or pronouns so he called it a win.

With his new crow friends sneaking him food, Tommy was better fed than he had been in months. He still felt weak and that miserable tight ball in his chest never went away but the dizzy spells were becoming more and more rare.

The only thing that put a damper on his good mood was those damn wings. They hung on his back, fluffy and ugly and useless. Weren't they supposed to be all feathered like Phil's or Quackity's? Was Tommy just defective? They didn't listen to him either, flapping and shifting when he wanted them to lie still, and becoming dead weight when he tried to move them.

It sucked, but he tried to ignore it. Things could be worse. At least, in exile, Tommy didn't have to worry about anyone except Dream seeing his embarrassment of chicken wings. And Dream had made it clear that even though everyone else left him, he wouldn't. That was enough. It had to be.

He told himself this over and over when the night came and Tommy was curled in bed. The tightness in his chest growing until he was paralyzed by fear and sadness and loneliness, crying until he exhausted himself into a restless sleep.

It was enough, because when he woke up each day, Dream would be there.

He could deal with loneliness, he could deal with Dream destroying his things. Because he had his crows, his mooshroom, and even when it hurt, he had Dream.

Tommy didn't know what the date was when Dream said his goodbyes again, leaving through the portal. He had lost track of the days sometime after Christmas and never bothered to ask Dream for clarification. All he knew was that it was shaping up to be the same in a long line of them. The crows usually showed up an hour or so after Dream left so Tommy busied himself with feeding Mushroom Henry and attempting to get his wings to do what he wanted.

But, as the sun moved through the sky, the crows still hadn't shown up. He tried not to feel too upset, they were wild animals. It's not like they came to see him because they liked him or something. He was just a food source.

He scowled at the ground, snuggling once more with Mushroom Henry who accepted it with the grace of a saint sent by Prime Itself. It was fine. So what if it had been a while since the crows had missed a day? Tommy didn't need them anyway. They were just some dumb birds. He had Mushroom Henry, who was far superior anyw-

"Caw!"

"Fuck!" His wings flared as Tommy startled, falling off of Mushroom Henry. (Who, bless her soul, was used to Tommy's shenanigans at this point and just stared at him blankly).

The crow, Pogboy, stared at him from where she sat innocently on the ground.

"...where the fuck did you come from? Scared the shit outta Mushroom Henry. 'S not polite to sneak up on people, y'know that? Who raised you? Here I am, enjoying a pleasant snooze and you come in here, startling poor, innocent Mushroom Henry." Tommy patted the cow, who was very much relaxed. "I should speak to your mother. Or father. Or crow parent of the non binary sort." He paused, staring at Pogboy, who stared back silently.

"...well? C'mon then, where's your friends? They out harassing other innocent mooshrooms? Or is that just a you thing-"

"What the fuck."

Tommy froze, cutting himself off. That was a voice. A human voice behind him. Someone spoke. Someone was here. He knew that voice. But it wasn't Dream. But Dream was the only one that came here. But it wasn't him.

His mind was stuck in a loop and he couldn't move, no matter how much he wanted to. He was frozen, his wings pressing hard to his back as he stared down at Pogboy.

...Pogboy, the crow.

Tommy was a fucking idiot.

Footsteps. They were approaching and suddenly Tommy could move. He scrambled forward, getting his feet under him. Everything in his screamed at the idea of being on the ground with his vulnerable back to...to..

Tommy turned around.

Fuck.

"...Phil?"

Tommy was hallucinating. It was the only explanation. There was no way Philza fucking Minecraft was here, staring at him in the middle of his exile campsite. His head spun as he tried to wrap it around this concept.

At least Phil didn't seem to be doing any better. His eyes were wide enough that Tommy could see the white all the way around his irises and he kept opening and closing his mouth. He looked kind of like a fish when he did that.

"You look like a fish." He blurted out. It seemed to snap Phil out of his shock. The man blinked, looking so completely befuddled it would've been funny if it were any other circumstance.

"What?"

If thoughts could have faces, Tommy was sure all of his would be staring at him in judgement. So many questions he could have asked and that's what he started with.

Well, no turning back.

"You heard me. You’ve got a fish face Philza. It's all-" he mimicked the motion, over exaggerating for good measure. "Sure you're not half fish? Maybe you're a flying fish. That's a thing, innit? Pretty fuckin' sure that's a thing. Y'know, I've never had fly fish before. Is it good? Well, maybe I shouldn't ask you, it's like you asking me if humans taste good. Pretty insensitive, I'll admit. I'm a big man, I can admit when I've made a wrong even if it's so completely rare of me that it's almost unheard of-"

"Tommy." Phil's tone had Tommy snapping his mouth shut instantly. He sounded pissed. Phil's face might be blank of rage but Tommy didn't trust that for a second. He was used to masks. Even a happy one was never a guarantee of kindness.

The voice in his head wailed to run and Tommy for a hot second, was inclined to listen. He felt his wings fluff up, and his legs tense but he forced himself to still.

Phil seemed to be observing the behavior, a despair in his eyes that confused Tommy. But before he could ask, Phil shook his head and the emotion was wiped away.

"Jesus, what the fuck. What the fuck." Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tommy, why do you have wings?!"

Tommy spluttered. What kind of question was that?!

"I don't...well, why do you have wings, huh? Seems pretty rude to ask me that, Philza." He crossed his arms, trying to look confident. His wings betrayed him by curling around his shoulders as if trying to shield him.

Fucking snitches.

Phil twitched and clenched his hands at his sides for a moment before relaxing. He sucked in a breath before releasing it slowly. He looked relaxed and calm by the end. Tommy eyed him warily, not fooled even a little bit.

"Tommy," Philza sounded much calmer as well, the liar, "How long have you had wings?"

Tommy opened his mouth, ready to deflect, but Phil cut him off.

"Please, tell me the truth. This is very important."

He scowled, and glanced away. The teenager was half convinced to lie anyway when a loud caw broke the tension and Pogboy hopped over and sat on Tommy's foot. Innocent eyes looked up at him and though Tommy was still annoyed that apparently Pogboy was Philza's crow, he couldn't deny her anything. The fight left him and he sagged, feeling the stress of the day catching up.

"'Bout a few weeks, maybe a month. Dunno, kind of hard to keep track of the days here. Why?"

Tommy didn't know how he was expecting Phil to react but the tortured look that came across his expression was still a little surprising. He looked like Tommy just told him his fuckin' dog died or something. What was his problem?

"Fuck. Fuck. Jesus Christ, okay." Phil scrubbed at his face with both hands for a moment then seemed to come to a decision. "Where's your nest? Chat's been saying they've been bringing you food, is your stash low? When was the last time you even preened? I know it's hard to reach the back, God knows how you're even standing right now." By the end of his mini rant, Phil seemed like he was speaking more to himself than Tommy. The boy in question puffed up. He had no idea what Phil was talking about but he could take care of himself. Besides, he had Dream and Dream said that was enough.

"You off your rocker, old man? Nests? I don't even want to ask what preening is but y'know I'm not actually a bird, right? Just got the chicken wings." He laughed, trying to play off his confusion. He hated feeling stupid but it wasn't his fault Phil seemed to be losing it. A dark voice whispered that maybe killing Wilbur had snapped something in the hardcore player's brain. He shoved the thought away.

Phil didn't seem to find this as amusing as Tommy did. He had frozen when the teen spoke, the same blank expression from earlier coming over his features.

"You...don't know what nesting is?"

Tommy wanted to laugh it off but the tone of voice told him something was wrong. He had misstepped somewhere and was now treading dangerous waters. He didn't even know what he had said wrong, so he was unsure how to fix it.

Phil wasn't waiting for a response though. He stepped closer, a desperate look entering his eyes.

"Tell me you have a nest. Or a stash. Fuck, tell me you've preened." With each sentence, Phil moved closer until he was practically on top of Tommy. The teenager in question was frozen to the spot. Half his brain was screaming to run, the other was wailing for help. Crying out for some nameless figure to save him. It kept him rooted to the ground.

Phil was studying him, eyes flitting over Tommy's entire state and when he spoke again his voice was barely a whisper.

"You don't even know how to chirp, do you? You're all alone." A hand moved slowly and cupped Tommy's face. Something in Tommy's head quieted, fixating on the touch. Phil seemed to soften, his thumb stroking gently.

"Just a baby."

That was enough.

Tommy ripped his head out of Phil's touch, ignoring the wailing inside him to get it back. The tightness returned in his chest, strong enough to almost knock him off his feet but he planted them firmly and silently told his body to shut the fuck up.

"You. Need to go the fuck away." He jabbed a finger into Phil's chest. "You're being all freaky right now, and-and you're scaring Pogboy." He glanced down at the crow, who tilted her head.

"I don't know what this shit about nesting and chirping and whatever is, but obviously you've had one too many and need to go take an old man nap or something."

Phil stared for a long moment, the soft look in his eyes never leaving. It caused a flush to Tommy's face and he changed tactics from poking to shoving.

"Go! Just - get the fuck away from me! Go away, Philza!" His push barely made the avian budge and he couldn't tell if he was just that weak or if Phil was just freakishly built under those weird robes.

He would have kept shoving and shouting but Phil's sudden grip around his wrist stopped him short. It wasn't tight, it was gentle, almost cradling the limb which was what really shocked Tommy. No one had ever held him so gently before. Not since…

…

"Okay, Tommy." He jumped, hearing his name spoken. The teen had been so focused on the touch he had zoned out a bit.

"Go lay down. I'll be back. Everything will be alright." His wrist was given a short squeeze that shouldn't have felt as reassuring as it did. It pissed Tommy off, and he yanked his hand back. He elected to ignore it only worked because Phil released him at the same moment.

"You don't get to tell me what to do." He hissed. "Piss off."

Phil looked amused, but backed off. He stepped away, no longer right in the teenager's space like the weirdo he was.

"Don't worry. It's going to be okay." Was all he said before spreading his wings and taking off into the air.

Tommy watched him fly off, feeling shaken and all too aware of his stumps for wings, pressing tight to his back. So useless and ugly.

"...Show off."

Chapter Text

Despite Phil's odd promise to return, Tommy didn't see the man again. The day after his visit, Tommy had been tempted to tell Dream, but he held his tongue. He reasoned with himself that he would just be bothering Dream. The man was already doing so much for him and here he was, running to him like a baby to whine about Phil.

So when Dream came and asked how Tommy was doing, all Tommy said was "Good."

The long stare he received had caused a squirming sensation in his gut. He had been sure Dream was about to call bullshit, but he just shrugged and asked for Tommy's things.

If he had Tommy dig the hole and drop the TNT, well, neither of them called attention to it.

The next couple days, Tommy was on edge. He was constantly, almost obsessively, checking the skies. He was sure he was going to see the shadowed outline of an avian descending upon his campsite. But the skies remained clear. Phil never came.

Good, he told himself. Phil was a weirdo. In fact, he was on his way to being considered a proper wrongun'. Phil would stay away if the old man knew what was good for him, because Tommy wasn't above hitting the elderly.

It was good Phil never came. He only checked the skies because he was worried Phil would come back. Everytime he saw that they were clear, all he felt was relief. Not disappointment.

Not even a little bit.

…

Still clear.

"Good." He growled. "I don't want him here anyway." Tommy kicked at the sand.

He had gone for a walk along the beach shore, wanting to stretch his legs. He was hoping to spot some kelp that washed onto the beach he could dry out. It had been about a week since Phil's visit, with no sign of the man. Tommy was slowly starting to relax as a result.

The crows continued to visit, while growing in larger amounts. Lizzie, Barbs, and Pogboy were still the ones he interacted with the most. The rest sat on trees off in the distance, so still and silent Tommy would forget they were there. If he didn't feel their eyes boring into him from every angle, he would. It was part of the reason he was down near the sea shore. There’s no trees close to the water for them to perch on so he was relatively free of their stares.

At first, Tommy had tried to shoo them off. He ignored the main trio and their attempts to bring him food, sure they were snitching on him to Phil somehow. He had mentioned something about "Chat" bringing him food so they must have communicated it to him in some way. That strike didn't last long. When he tried to ignore the food, Pogboy began to scream his ear off, Barbara kept touching his wings and pecking any part of him she could reach, and Lizzie had elected to follow him all the way to his tent that night.

He caved the next morning and they calmed down.

Tommy still felt weird taking the food, so he didn't eat in front of them. But as long as he was taking it, the crows didn't throw another hissy fit. He still made sure to give them their share before squirreling the rest away to consume in private. At first, he had been worried about a feeding frenzy descending on the food with all of the other crows hanging around. but none of them approached. Which, while he was glad they weren't fighting, didn't help the creep factor.

So Tommy would drop a bit off for the crow trio (BLP trio as he had decided to call them) and take the rest for himself. He did eat most of it but...something always kept him from finishing it. It didn't matter how small the portion he had received that day was, he always ended up stashing it away in his tent. Surprisingly, the weird new instincts he had been developing since his wings had made no protest to the behavior. In fact, when he stared down at the growing pile of food and garbage, it eased the tightness in his chest.

He couldn't put his finger on why but he found himself in his tent more often than not, running his hands over the items. Counting them, rearranging them and just staring. Maybe he was starting to lose it, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The only thing that kept him from staying in his tent all day, messing with his food stash, was Dream. Dream, who he hadn't told about the stash.

Dream, who Tommy knew would be upset if he saw it.

Tommy knew he was being greedy. He had so much food just sitting there and he was hoarding it all to himself. But he couldn't help it. The idea of giving it up or even just eating it himself made him so stressed he was almost sick. Everytime he tried to eat it, his heart would pound and hands would become clammy and even his instincts would wail for him to put it down.

So he kept it, adding bits to it as he went. Another potato sack to replace the first one Dream had destroyed. A half eaten apple, with the sticker still on the untouched side. Even some bread that was definitely past stale and edging into moldy. It was all junk. Stupid, useless garbage but it was his. Besides, a bitter part of him whispered, it was an accurate representation of Tommy himself.

Useless, unwanted garbage-

"Ow!"

Tommy glared at Lizzie, perched on his shoulder. The crow gave him an innocent look but he wasn't fooled.

"My ear is not a chew toy." He growled, but made no attempt to shoo her off of him.

They both knew Lizzie was the favorite. Tommy would let her keep pecking him if she really wanted. She didn't, though. Instead gently shifting through the hair growing past his ears. It felt nice. Bless her soul, this was why she was his favorite.

"You always seem to know when I'm stuck in my thoughts." He hummed. Lizzie did not respond because she was a crow.

Tommy took a moment to glance around, just now realizing how long he had been standing at the sea shore. The sun was edging closer to the horizon, not quite setting but the sky was beginning to change colors in preparation. It was beautiful, blue giving way to warm pinks and reds and oranges. It gave the earth a soft filter that made everything seem warm and peaceful.

"I completely agree, Liz. Dinner time, it is."

With that, Tommy turned from the beach and marched back to his tent and army of crows all waiting patiently for his arrival.

***

Nights in exile were always difficult. There was never a ‘good’ night. The scale only went from tolerable to horrible. Tonight was inching more on the tolerable side, thankfully.

He had yet to cry even a little bit and the moon was already rising into its highest point. Sure, he hadn't managed to get a wink of sleep so far, but that wasn't anything new either. Sleepless nights were usually filled with intrusive thoughts and loneliness that almost suffocated him.

For once, though, Tommy just plain couldn't sleep. It was like his bird brain was on edge, expecting an attack at any second. The exhaustion was starting to reach bone deep inside him, but every time his eyes started to drift shut, adrenaline would rush through him and he'd snap back awake. It was freaky and annoying and he was getting really tired of it.

He shifted onto his back, ignoring the way his new appendages protested being crushed in favor of scrubbing at his burning eyes. He didn't understand what was going on with his body. If he could just get a guide book or something that would be real fuckin' helpful. Then maybe he wouldn't be laying in bed late into the night paranoid over nothing when he couldn't even hear a single thing outside-

...wait.

He couldn't hear a single thing outside.

He sat up as slow as he could, eyes wide and staring at the crack in the tent flaps. They were still, not even shifting from a breeze. No hint at something lurking outdoors but that wasn't reassuring in the slightest. It was never this quiet. Even at night, there was always something. Crickets, frogs, an occasional whippoorwill or two even. The fact that it was completely silent…

Something had scared them.

His heart was starting to pound and he glanced around looking for a weapon. Of course, there was nothing. Dream would blow any tool Tommy made and he had given up for the past few weeks. He had barely had the strength to sit up those first few weeks, let alone lift a sword.

Now that was coming back to bite him in the ass. Tommy was alone in the middle of the woods, completely defenseless with something out there enough of a threat that not a single living thing wanted to draw its attention.

Snap.

Oh fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There was something out there and it was so fucking close.

As quietly as he could, Tommy slipped from his bed, eyes as wide as they could be in an attempt to see better and looked desperately for something, anything he could use as a weapon-

There!

He snatched up his weapon, gripping tightly with both hands and crouched in the corner, shaking with terror. Something clawed in the back of his throat. Like a cough but slightly to the left. He tried to ignore it, not wanting to make a single sound to alert the thing that he was aware of it.

Movement.

It was coming inside.

Oh fuck, it was coming inside-!

He inhaled slowly and silently, steeling himself and tried to push back the thoughts of his impending death.

The tent flap rippled.

Tommy tensed.

It pushed inward, a large form following it, a head dipping down for a slight second to fit into the tent and Tommy striked.

He screamed as loud as he could and swung his weapon as hard as he could, aiming for the beast's head. It gave a shout, stumbling backwards and falling out of the tent.

Tommy didn't hesitate to dart out after it. He didn't pause even for a second, trying to sprint past it to where he knew the nether portal was-

Something snagged his foot and he was falling.

No. No!

Tommy screamed, thrashing with all his might against the thing holding him. He didn't care how pathetic he sounded. He was so, so scared. He wanted to be let go. He wanted the thing to leave him alone. He wanted to be safe. He wanted Dream. He wanted Ph-

"Did you seriously hit me with a bag of potatoes?" The thing asked directly into his ear, its breath hot against his skin.

Tommy froze. He knew that voice. It wasn't a thing at all. Rage bubbled inside him.

Tommy was going to murder him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He screamed at Technoblade.

***

"I really don't see what the problem is. It's a pretty common activity. You stalk your friends in the middle of the night, and eventually crawl into their room - or tent - while they sleep." Technoblade hadn't gotten up from his sprawled position on the ground. He somehow managed to look completely relaxed, watching Tommy pace back and forth in front of him.

"God you are such a - what were you even doing?!" Tommy growled. "You scared the shit out of me!"

For once, Tommy wasn't ashamed to admit it. Techno had been snooping around for probably hours, based on Tommy's inability to sleep the whole time. Then, he tried crawling into Tommy's tent like he was the killer in a slasher film.

"In my defense," Technoblade drawled. "You weren't supposed to be awake. Didn't mean 'ta freak you out so bad." Tommy stared.

"That's worse. You realize how that's worse, right?"

Technoblade just stared back, the flickering glow of the torch illuminating his mask in a haunting manner.

"Fuckin' hell - fine! Whatever, you were sneaking into my tent like your goal in life is to end up on a registry. We can move on! I just want to get to sleep, you kept me up all night with your stalker habits." It was convenient to know now that Tommy seemed to have some kind of built in "danger" mode but he wished it didn't come at the expense of his rest. He turned around, intending to get back to bed.

"Goodnight, bitch. Whatever you were doing can wait until I'm not sleep deprived. Or, better yet, it doesn't have to happen at all."

"Yeah, about that…" There was shuffling behind him and Tommy glanced back to see the piglin hybrid finally getting up.

"I'll admit, I did have some ulterior motives for showin' up tonight. Was kinda hopin' we could get this done without you freakin' out on me but," he shrugged "I'm not picky."

The fear from earlier was starting to creep back in.

"Woah, uh. C'mon, Tech. We can talk about this, can't we? Okay, is this about L'manburg? I-I thought you were retired! Y'know, moving on? Or - Well, I'm sorry I hit you with the potatoes, you freaked me out!" Tommy began to babble, putting his hands up with his palms facing an advancing Techno.

Techno paused for a split second.

"No, but we're gonna come back to that. I thought that was a bag of rocks, at first. What kinda potatoes are you growin' here?" While Tommy sputtered, Techno took the moment to close the gap. He grabbed Tommy's shoulder, stopping the teen's retreat.

"Look, to be real honest with you, Tommy. I don't wanna do this either but…" he shrugged and Tommy began to panic. He didn't want to die. At least, not like this! Not in the middle of the night, downed by the blade's ire.

"No. No, no, no.." He gasped struggling against the hold. He couldn't even get out the proper words to beg for his life. This wasn't fair. He didn't want this. Where was Dream? Dream would help but he was all alone and about to die-

His feet were off the ground and Tommy had a moment where he thought he collapsed from the stress. But there was no impact, just a tight hold around him. His eyes opened - when had he shut them? Everything was happening too fast, his head was spinning. - and he stared up at Techno's jaw, strands of pink hair tickling his face.

His brain struggled to process what was going on. Wasn't Techno going to kill him? Was he gonna squeeze him to death like a snake? But Techno wasn't squeezing. He had a tight grip, sure, but it didn't even hurt. There was an odd rocking motion to the restraint too.

Oh. They were moving.

"Wh- put me down! Where are you-? Let go!" Tommy squirmed but he might as well have been fighting stone. Techno's hold was unyielding as he carried them off to god knows where.

The panic that had stuttered to a halt in those seconds of confusion, came rushing back twice as strong. Oh, Prime. Technoblade was carrying him off to his death. Not even Dream would know what happened. At least if he had been killed at Logsteadshire, Dream would've been able to tell people. Now, there would be no evidence of whatever happened to him.

His heart was pounding and he panted, fast and shallow. He wanted to thrash, fight back and scream his protests. Cry for help, at the very least. His body refused to do any of the sort. It was like it had shut down, and all he could do was hang limp in Technoblade's arms as he marched to his death.

The man in question had glanced down, face unreadable behind the hoglin skull. He took in Tommy's state and the rocking motion slowed to a halt.

"Tommy, breathe." Surprisingly, he sounded concerned. Wow, why didn't I think of that?! Dipshit, I'm trying! Tommy wanted to shout but he couldn't get air into his lungs for a full breath. Black spots were beginning to dance across his vision.

The arms around him shifted and suddenly, Tommy was in Techno's lap, back to his chest. When the piglin spoke again the words vibrated his entire form.

"Follow my breathing. Everything's okay." Then, the chest behind him expanded, Tommy moving slightly with it. He tried to mimic it, but failed miserably. His breaths continued to come out in wheezing pants.

"Good, you're doing really good. Again." Techno seemed to have a different opinion and once more Tommy struggled to follow along.

Eventually, Tommy managed to get oxygen as his breathing matched Technoblade's. It took what felt like forever to do, but the Piglin made no complaints known. Tommy didn't really get why he was helping him in the first place, but he didn't voice his questions. He didn't want to remind Techno that he was just wasting time since he was going to kill Tommy anyway.

"There you go, Theseus. You're okay." Techno rumbled as Tommy's breathing slowed to heavy, deep gasps.

"Please…" Tommy whispered, his eyes welling with tears. It was cruel of the anarchist to show such kindness while carrying him to his doom. Tommy wished he would just get it over with. The gentle touch and soft words were messing with his head and the stupid bird inside him was perking up. He reminded himself that Techno was going to kill him. This was all just meant to lure him into a false sense of security so he wouldn't fight back.

"It's alright, here we go." Techno shifted Tommy once more, his arms lifting the boy back to his chest as he stood up. The rocking motion started again but slower. Tommy made no more protests. The fear pinged in the back of his head but he didn't even have the strength to acknowledge it. The sleepless night, the stress of Techno's stalking, and finally the panic attack he had just experienced had all snowballed and slammed him in the face. His eyes drooped and felt himself drifting.

He saw Techno glance down at him before he was adjusted. His face was now resting against the Blood God's shoulder.

"Sleep, Theseus. We'll be home soon." Was the last Tommy heard and then he knew no more.

Chapter Text

The first thing Tommy registered was how cold he was.

It wasn't a bone-deep chill. He was used to those. Those were the kind he'd feel early in the morning, before the sun had risen and his ratty sheet did nothing to hold in the warmth.

This was a cold that rushed in suddenly, biting into his skin. It was a shock that chased away the lingering comfort and warmth. Tommy began to shiver.

He was so warm just a second ago. Where did the warmth go? Tommy tried to curl up to preserve heat and get a few extra minutes of shut eye.

But something was holding him. A gentle but firm grip that stopped his movement. Sleepiness made him confused and slow as he batted weakly at the restraint.

"Hold still, Tommy."

"Nnno…" He slurred out, squirming. He wanted to go back to sleep but Dream wasn't letting him. Tommy knew he would regret resisting once he was more awake but, right now, he was too out of it to care.

"Look, if I don't wrap you up, you're gonna get hypothermia. And then Phil will make me sleep on the couch for the next month, at least." Tommy's face scrunched in confusion.

"Phil…?" Why was Dream talking about Phil?

"Mmhm. Man is a mother hen, through and through."

Tommy didn't have a chance to process those words, before Dream was touching his wings.

"No." He gasped. Tommy wanted to fight but that always made it worse. "No, please. I'm good. Dream, I'm good."

Tommy was no longer shaking from the chill. He waited for the pain, trying to brace himself. Begging made it worse, why did he always do that? This would be a bad one.

Yet, the pain never came. Dream just held his wings, like he was waiting for something.

"...Tommy? Do you know where you are?"

Tommy whined. What kind of question was that?

"I'll be good. Sorry." Tears slipped past closed eyelids as he gave in. His head fell forward, baring the back of his neck to the masked man. Despite this, his wings jolted, fighting the hold on him.

Still, he felt no pain. In fact, not even a minute later, his wings were released.

"Tommy." Hot hands cupped the sides of his face. He leaned into the hold, soaking it up. "Theseus, open your eyes."

Why was Dream calling him Theseus? The only person who called him that was…

His eyes opened, blinking a few times to adjust. The figure in front of him had only a small speck of green hanging from his ear.

"Techno…? Where-" Tommy finally remembered what was happening. His eyes popped open and the last dredges of sleep were chased away.

Technoblade didn't have time to react before Tommy was throwing himself backwards, out of the man's grasp. He hadn't had a chance to process his surroundings, so the shock of cold on his back and wings made him yelp.

He was off the ground as quickly as he had met it, back in Technoblade's hold.

"Idiot. What did I just say about hypothermia?" Now that he was awake and aware, the piglin had gone back to his task. Which, apparently, was restraining Tommy with cloth.

Tommy didn't make it easy for him. Any pliancy was long gone with his unconscious state. He struggled, pushing against the hybrid and snarling like a rabid animal.

"Let go! Fuck you! Go die, you bitch!" His protests were ignored and his body restrained, wrapped tightly in red cloth that Tommy now realized was Technoblade's cape. His arms were pinned to his sides and his wings to his back. They pushed incessantly against the restraint but to no avail. It made Tommy's stomach twist and he coughed, a weird tickling in his throat.

Thankfully, his wings were released shortly after. Technoblade adjusted the cape so they sprung out while his arms were still pinned to his sides. Tommy growled, still fighting the hold while his heart pounded.

Fuck, how could Tommy have been stupid enough to fall asleep? Who knows where they are now? He didn't even know if they went by boat or through the nether portal. They could be anywhere.

An arm pulling him closer to the Blade interrupted his internal scolding. His face was smushed into the older man's chest as Technoblade wrapped his arms around Tommy. He felt something touching his wings again as they flapped in protest, easily restrained by Techno's large hands.

Another cloth was being delicately wrapped around each limb. They jolted randomly without Tommy's permission. Techno said nothing, not reacting to Tommy's muffled shouts or his wings struggles. He worked quickly but methodically until each wing was wrapped tight, not even a sliver touching the open air.

Then, they were released. They flapped again and Tommy expected the same restraining sensation like the one from the cape, but it never came. Technoblade had wrapped them separately. In a way that still allowed them to move but blocked out the cold.

Tommy ignored the relief in his chest. He refused to be grateful when Technoblade was tying him up to bring him to his death.

"That should be good." Technoblade mumbled, making minute adjustments to the wraps. Once he was satisfied, Technoblade moved, pulling Tommy with him as he stood back up. Tommy attempted to kick him while he was off balance but the retired warrior easily evaded the attack.

Then, Tommy was back in Techno's arms. One under his back, just below his wings and the other under his knees. There was a crunch as they began to move and Tommy realized they were walking through snow.

He gave one last, experimental tug against the cape. His arms remained trapped. Tommy gave up.

"Where are you taking me?" He wasn't actually expecting an answer, but maybe if he got Technoblade talking, the man would let something slip.

"Told 'ya already. Takin' you to Phil." Tommy blinked. The actual answer surprised him before he processed what exactly Technoblade had said.

"What? What does Phil want with me?!" Shit, so the avian hadn't been lying when he said he'd come back. What was his problem?

"Yeah, I'm not gettin' into that. That's for him to explain. We're almost there, anyway. You can wait." Tommy bared his teeth.

"I'm not waiting for shit." His struggles started anew, as worthless as they were. The hell did Techno do to this cape? Tommy felt like a goddamn sardine with how tightly he was sealed. He glared at Technoblade's shoulder.

"That's not gonna work. Be my guest though, you're just tiring yourself ou- Heh?! Are you biting me?!"

Instead of responding, he bit harder, hoping to puncture through the skin. Damn, piglin skin was thick. But Tommy was stubborn.

Techno growled. A deep, rumbling sound that said 'threat.' Tommy released Techno for a second, his hind brain overcoming his anger. He snapped out of it pretty quick and bit down again. I'm gonna die anyway. No way am I making this easy for him.

"Ok that's it." The shoulder was ripped away from Tommy and the world was moving with it. His stomach impacted with something, and he released a small "oof" sound.

He blinked, seeing white. Then, he realized what was happening.

"Put me down!" He howled, fighting his new position over Technoblade's shoulder. He attempted to knee the man in the gut but an arm pinned down his legs, stopping that plan. The other held his back to keep him in place on the piglin's shoulder.

"Can you just go back to sleep? It made this whole thing a lot easier." Tommy yelled wordlessly.

"Yeah, I should've expected that. We're almost there, you can make it." The last part seemed more like it was trying to reassure Technoblade, than Tommy. The teen felt a sliver of triumph. Take that, pork bitch. Not so fun now, is it?

Technoblade did not react from then on. He trudged through the snow, never faltering or slowing, despite Tommy's desperate attempts to make him do so. It was reaching a point that Tommy was starting to grow tired. His struggles would slow, until he realized what was happening and they'd strengthen once more. But those bursts of energy grew shorter and farther in between.

Eventually, he was slumped over Techno's shoulder, dead weight. Soon to be in more ways than one.

"You done?" Tommy felt a fizzle of anger at the question but couldn't bring himself to react to it with anything more than the customary "Fuck you."

"Almost there, Tommy." The hand pinning his legs down patted the limbs, in an attempt to reassure. Tommy was not reassured. How could he be? Techno was practically telling him "Almost to your execution, Tommy!"

He tried not to think about it. Who knows what Phil wanted to do to him. He had acted so odd when he visited. There was even a moment Tommy thought he cared. But it must have been a trick, so that when Techno came to swoop him up he'd be compliant.

With Tommy no longer fighting, the cold was rushing back in. The cape and wing wraps had held it at bay while his blood was warmed with anger, but now he was beginning to shiver.

Technoblade must have felt his shaking, because he sighed.

"If I carry you in my arms, are you gonna try to bite me again? I really don't want to know what Phil will do to me if you catch a cold."

Tommy hesitated, debating his options.

"...No." Yes.

"...Are you lying?"

"No." Absolutely.

Techno grumbled and stopped walking. Tommy was moving once more, the snow leaving his sight and his vision instead filled with the Blood God. They set off again, with Techno's shoulder once again in tantalizingly close reach. He leaned closer, trying to play it off as him getting comfortable.

"If I feel even a hint of teeth," Techno spoke right before Tommy clamped down. "I will gag you."

Tommy did not move for a long moment. He was completely sure Technoblade was serious. The hybrid never bluffed about things like that.

Was it really worth it, in the long run?

****

"Phil! Come take the gremlin!" Techno's shout echoed across the tundra. His pace had sped up when the glow of the cabin became visible. He hadn't even waited until they were inside, calling for the avian.

The sun was only just starting to peek over the horizon, but there was barely a pause between Techno's call and the door opening. Philza hurried out, already speaking.

"You made it! I was worried. It had gotten so cold, were the wraps warm enough- Techno."

Philza had finally taken in the two's appearances. Technoblade's face was unreadable as ever under his mask but Tommy was glaring at Phil with the burning fury of a thousand suns. As much as Tommy ached to give Phil a piece of his mind, he could not. Due to the cloth shoved in his mouth.

"He bit me, Phil." Techno sounded irritated but there was a hint of a whine in his tone. "He bit me three times."

Phil rolled his eyes, clearly trying to resist smiling. Tommy glared harder, trying to set the man's head on fire with his mind.

"Well, c'mon then. Let's get you two warmed up." Phil turned, heading back to the cabin entrance. He had left it wide open in his rush outside. He seemed visibly embarrassed about it, not meeting Techno's or Tommy's eyes as he ushered them in.

As Tommy was carried past the threshold, a wave of warmth washed over him. The tips of his fingers and toes tingled as feeling rushed back into them.

"How was the trip? Any problems?" Phil asked Techno, who was still holding Tommy. Neither acknowledged the boy who was beginning to squirm in the piglin's grip again.

"Well, he hit me with a bag of potatoes when I got there." Techno drawled, his monotone delivery causing Phil to laugh. The man absentmindedly placed a hand on Tommy's head when the teen let out a grunt.

I'm not a fucking dog. He wanted to shout, tossing his head in an attempt to dislodge the hand. Phil just stroked through Tommy's hair and the teen growled.

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Did you bring any of his things? Chat says he's been making a stash."

So those fucking crows were spying on him! Little snitches, the whole lot.

"Yeah, no. It wasn't...I wouldn't call that a stash." Phil frowned

"What do you-"

"Mmm!" Tommy headbutted Techno's shoulder, trying to get either hybrid's attention. He succeeded, both staring down at him.

"Oh! Sorry mate, let me help you with that." Phil reached for the gag, despite Techno's protests.

"Phil, no. I'm still holding him. He's gonna bite me again." Phil just laughed, tugging the gag out of Tommy's mouth.

Tommy smacked his mouth, wetting it and moved his jaw. He looked up at Phil and honored him with his first words.

"Fuck you."

"Mate-"

"Fuck you, Philza! Fuck you! Fuck both of you! Fucking kidnappers, you and your little crow snitches and pork bitch over here." He snarled, letting loose everything he had been wanting to say for the past hour.

"I told you, he's been like this the whole time-"

"He's just tired-"

"I'm not fucking tired!" He roared, thrashing again. His wings beat hard against him, smacking the arm Technoblade was using to secure his back. "I'm pissed as hell! You kidnapped me! I didn't do shit to either of you! What the fuck is your problem?!"

"Mate, I know this is confusing and scary but-"

"Phil, that's not gonna work-"

"I'm not scared! I'm not tired or scared or whatever else you fucking think I am! I'm angry! I want you to tell me what the hell is going on and get this over with-!"

Technoblade was holding the thrashing teenager away from his body, clearly not wanting to be a chew toy again. Tommy wasn't even thinking about that, right now. He was too busy telling both hybrids exactly where they could shove it.

It was during a small pause for Tommy to regain his breath, ready to start his rants all over again, that Phil made a new sound.

It sounded breathy but somehow also deep. Like two tones overlapping each other in a way that should have been impossible. Tommy didn't know what it was but suddenly, he couldn't speak. His voice, which had never failed him before when he was shouting like this, had fled. All he managed was a croak that had him coughing.

"What- wh-." What was that? Did Phil cast a fucking spell on him or something?

On the contrary, Phil seemed just as surprised as Tommy. He softened soon after, his hand returning to pet Tommy's hair. He made the sound again, much longer and drawn out. Tommy jerked, and he couldn't look away from the older blond. His mouth opened but nothing came out. His chest tightened and he couldn't breathe. There was no panic though. He couldn't panic. He couldn't think about anything. He just really, really wanted to hear that sound again.

"Let's get him to nest. It's been a rough week, huh?" Phil was still staring at Tommy despite the words clearly meant for someone else.

He had a moment of confusion before he remembered he was in Technoblade's arms. How had he forgotten that? Something was wrong. Something was missing. Tommy needed something, his entire being ached for it, but he didn't know what it was.

A two-toned sound and Tommy snapped his head towards its source. He couldn't see where it had come from, Technoblade was blocking his view. He strained, needing that...that...he didn't know what but he needed it.

Then he was being placed on something soft. Oh. They had moved. When had they moved?

Phil appeared in front of him, replacing Technoblade. He had a warm smile. His smile was so nice. Tommy liked his smile.

Something touched his wings and the blood in his veins turned to ice. He jerked forward, falling into Philza.

"Woah, mate! It's alright, Techno is just taking the wraps off." Tommy could feel that this was true. The pressure around his wings was receding but Tommy didn't ask him to do that. He didn't want Techno touching his wings. He didn't want anyone touching the fuckers.

Instinctively, he tried to reach back and stop the piglin, and was surprised to find he could. Wait, when did they take the cape off?

What the hell happened?

"What did you do to me?!" He hissed, trying to pull away from Philza. The man held him tight, not answering the question in favor of staring at something behind Tommy. He assumed it was Technoblade, because when the piglin hybrid hummed and the pressure on Tommy's wings was fully absent, Phil finally acknowledged the teenager in his arms.

"I didn't do anything to you, Toms. Your body has just been through a lot. It's natural, you don't need to fight it."

Oh, yeah?

Tommy glared, his body tensing in preparation to show Philza exactly what he thought of that advice. He didn't get a chance before Philza cooed.

Because that's what it was, wasn't it? Philza was cooing at Tommy like a bird.

He couldn't even muster the fury that had been ready to explode mere moments ago. He was too busy fighting the wave of...something that threatened to overwhelm him whenever Phil made that sound. His throat hurt. Tommy coughed, the sound straining and painful.

When Phil heard the coughing, he stopped making the sound, adjusting the boy to pat his back through the fit.

"Sorry, mate. I guess it's too much this early on, huh?" Once the fit subsided, Phil switched to rubbing Tommy's back. He pressed gently at the space between his wing joints, the feeling surprisingly pleasant. Tommy didn't fight, he just let Phil do as he pleased. His chin was hooked over Phil's shoulder and he felt his wings droop in relaxation.

"Well, you’ve got it covered from here. I'm takin' a nap." Technoblade's voice cut through the calm. Tommy was embarrassed to realize he had forgotten the pig was here, again. Stupid Phil and his stupid bird shit.

"I hope you don't wake up."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight to you too, gremlin. Lemme know if you need help Phil, so I can refuse." Techno's voice was higher up than before. He must have stood up, ready to exit the room.

The...room.

Wait.

What the fuck?

It was only now that Tommy really took in his surroundings.

The room they had taken him to was soft. That's the first word that came to mind. They were sitting on the floor in a room with no bed, or dresser or any real furniture but it wasn't bare. Far from it, actually.

Blankets and duvet covers covered the entire floor, pillows scattered throughout. Some were piled around the walls, creating almost a barrier between the hard wood and the rest of the room. The lighting came from the warm glow of lanterns hanging overheard, creating a sleepy, cozy atmosphere. There were only two windows, but the curtains had been pulled away, letting the warm rays of the rising sun slink across the cushioned floor.

"Phil," he whispered, voice strangled. "What the fuck."

The man in question shifted to see what Tommy was referring to. When he understood, he made a happy sound.

"Do you like it? I know it's a little bare, I was hoping you could add your stash but, well...I'll help you collect more. We'll get it filled up in no time. Maybe, once you're more settled, you can help set it up too! Nesting is usually done together, but I figured you wouldn't mind."

Phil spoke like his words made sense. Which they absolutely didn't. Is this really what Phil meant when he asked if Tommy had a nest? He had to be joking. This looked like it was for a particularly clumsy infant. Everything was padded and baby-proofed.

Tommy was starting to think maybe Phil wasn't going to kill him. He had something much worse in mind.

"Tell me you're not keeping me in here."

Phil shifted, pulling Tommy off his shoulder to meet his gaze. He was frowning.

"I know this is a big change, but it's for your own good. I promise." He stroked Tommy's face for a moment before the teen turned his head away.

"You're insane. That's it, you finally gone bonkers. The years have caught up to you and you've lost your mind." Phil sighed.

"I understand why you're upset. It's alright. You can be as angry as you want, you have every right to be." He pulled Tommy back towards him, reclining as he did so. They ended up with Phil splayed out in the middle of the...the.. the room. Tommy firmly held on his chest. Black wings circled around them, blocking out the rising sun.

"We'll talk more after you've napped. It's been a long night." A hand began to gently scratch the nape of his neck.

Tommy didn't even have the strength to fight. The abduction and Phil's freaky bird habits and the room all being way more than he wanted to deal with. Sleep felt like the only way to escape.

And if he felt himself relax under gentle hands and a comforting hold, it was obviously just his body's exhaustion finally taking effect.

Chapter Text

"....too small….be bigger by his age.."

"...half-starved…"

Waking up, for Tommy, was usually a fast process. He was asleep and then he was not, eyes snapping open and already rigid with tension. Yet, this time was a slow rise to consciousness. His mind worked through the molasses of sleep as he slowly registered voices around him.

"...freaked out when I tried to wrap 'em. He was panicking like he thought I was gonna hurt him or-" The voice cut off and there was a moment of silence.

"He's waking up."

A hand touched his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. He sighed, and pushed into the touch. There was a chuckle as the hand continued its ministrations.

"I'd say good morning but we slept in. Already past noon, mate." Tommy hummed, not really understanding what the voice was saying. But he wanted the gentle touch to continue.

Tommy didn't sleep in, that didn't happen. Not since exile, and especially not since he grew wings-

Wait.

His eyes popped open and he stared up at Philza. Tommy's head was propped up in the man's lap. He was giving Tommy a warm look that made something in his chest squirm.

"There you are." Phil hummed. He got half a second more of playing with Tommy's hair before his hand was batted away.

The teen shot up. He scrambled away from the avian, heading into a corner to escape him and Techno both. His wings were flaring in alarm behind him; the downy feathers tickling the back of his neck.

Phil had an arm reached out like he wanted to pull Tommy back, but he dropped it back down. The two older hybrids eyed the youngest in the room. He glared right back. There was a long pause in which none of them spoke.

"Well, don't everyone jump in at once." Technoblade finally broke the silence.

"What's going on? What do you want from me?" Tommy shoved past the attempted ice breaker, and got right down to business. How long did he have before they killed him? Were they still going to do that? Why would they bring him to this weird room then?

"Are you hungry? How about we get you some food and then we can all talk." Phil's tone was gentle. Like he was trying to coax a particularly feral kitten into accepting his touch.

"Or, you tell me what the fuck is going on, and then I leave?" Tommy snarled right back, feathers puffing up further. From the look on Phil's face, he wasn't very threatened. Technoblade didn't even twitch. Fuckers underestimated Tommy. It would be their doom when he kicked their asses.

"Yeah, have fun with this. I'll get lunch." Technoblade snorted and stood up, heading to the door. Tommy eyed his retreating form and tried to get a glimpse of what the outside world looked like. The door shut much too fast for him to get a good look.

"Tommy." His gaze whipped back to Phil, eyes narrowed. The older blond put his hands up in mock surrender.

"I know you're confused and this can be a little frightening, but I promise you're safe. We really are trying to help you." Tommy scoffed.

"Yeah, and I'm actually part raccoon, like everyone says."

Phil made another sound, similar to the cooing from earlier. But it was softer, sadder. Tommy made a full body twitch, inhaling sharply. It felt like his ears needed to pop but there was no pressure change. Nothing happened.

"What are you doing?" Tommy shook his head, trying to clear away the feeling. Phil looked just as sad as the sound he had made implied.

"It's called chirping. It's a natural part of an avian's growth. The fact that you don't even know what that is…" He sighed. "I'll explain more after we eat. You need food."

Tommy tried to push for more information, but Phil remained firm. Tommy gave up when Phil looked like he was on the verge of reaching out to grab Tommy. Even though Phil hadn't hit him yet, everyone had their limits. Tommy seemed to be quickly reaching that.

They sat in silence, despite Philza's attempts to break it with seemingly innocuous questions about Tommy's interests. Things about what "Chat" had apparently reported him doing. Tommy just glared silently, internally panicking over all the ammo Phil now had against him.

Techno eventually returned, his arrival announced by him requesting Phil to open the door.

"Believe it or not, I've only got two arms and they are both occupied with sustenance for the bird brains." Phil laughed, reaching out to take the tray of food from his friend.

"Bird brains, huh? Yet, I see three bowls here. Who's the third one for?" He teased, stepping aside to allow Technoblade in.

Tommy observed the two carefully, noting that he was free of their attention for once. He inched slowly closer to the door. There was no way he'd be able to get by them, but he needed to know what the escape route looked like, for later.

Legs blocked his vision and he looked up, and up, to meet the Blood God's gaze.

"I think your nestling is ready to explore." Technoblade's otherwise monotone voice held just a hint of mocking to it.

"I will bite you again." Tommy scooted away, as Technoblade crouched down to his level. The hybrid's arms hung over his knees, face unreadable as ever behind his skull mask.

"Oh, yeah. Phil, remind me to check myself for rabies later." Phil laughed as Tommy sputtered, denials of any sort of disease falling from his lips.

The older avian just ignored the two's banter as he passed a bowl to Technoblade, the hybrid accepting with a nod. Phil seemed to steel himself before turning to the last one in the room, two bowls in his hands.

"Alright, got some stew. Eat as much as you can. If you're still hungry we'll get you some more." His arm extended, but Tommy made no move to grab it. No way was he going to get that close to Phil. Phil seemed to recognize the teenager's resolve. sighed.

"I promise, I'll explain everything after you eat. The sooner you do so, the sooner you can have your answers."

Tommy thought this over, glancing between Phil and Techno as he did. He was tempted to say no out of spite. Or, better yet, accept the bowl to chuck it back in their faces. But that last plan was dismissed almost immediately. Who knows what the two would do to him if he disobeyed so blatantly.

Eventually, he crawled close enough to reach the bowl, snatching it out of Phil's hand. Some of the contents spilled from the side and Tommy froze. His shoulders hunched and he opened his mouth, instinctive apologies on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't likely to limit the beating he was sure to receive. Still, he couldn't help but try. He was cut off from his internal panic by Technoblade's drawl.

"Y'know, you kept saying he was a baby, but I'm actually starting to believe it. Maybe you should be feeding him since the gremlin can't seem to do it himself."

Tommy's face flushed with indignation. He held the bowl tight and glared at it's contents in favor of meeting Phil's gaze. Because of this, he missed the way the older hybrid seemed to be struggling with temptation over Technoblade's comment.

"Both of you suck. You suck so much, you're vampires. Probably fuckin' why they call you the blood god." Tommy grumbled into his meal, snatching up the spoon and shoveling the bowl's contents into his mouth. Of course, just Tommy's luck, the meal was burning hot. He sputtered and choked, forcing himself to swallow the scorching liquid before coughing.

"Are you alright? Let me help." Phil was suddenly right there. He had moved so fast, Tommy wouldn't have been surprised if Phil had used an ender pearl when the teenager wasn't looking. A hand rubbed Tommy's upper back and the other reached for the bowl. There was a groan from Technoblade's direction.

"Phil, it was a joke. The kid can feed himself." Mortification filled Tommy as he realized what Phil was trying to do. His face burned and he smacked at the man's hands, hunching over the bowl to keep him at bay.

"Fuck off! I can fucking feed myself, what's wrong with you?!"

Eventually, with enough shouting on Tommy's part and Techno coaxing Phil to eat his own meal, Tommy was left to his food in peace.

He took it much slower, ever aware of the way Phil was watching him. He blew on each spoonful, not wanting a repeat of his first bite. Now that he was actually paying attention, he could see chunks of potatoes, meat and various other vegetables floating in the broth. The stew was hearty but surprisingly delicious.

As much as he wanted to finish it, his stomach began to protest when he was barely halfway through the dish. He set the bowl down and crossed his arms. He glared in response to the frown Phil was giving him and his half finished meal.

"Are you sure you don't want more?"

"I ate, didn't I? You never said how much." Tommy elected not to mention that he was worried his stomach would reject the food if he tried to eat anymore.

"I did my part. Now talk."

***

Despite Tommy's clear demand, he was forced to wait until Phil had cleared the dishware and it was whisked away back downstairs. Tommy had eyed the spoon, tempted to try and smuggle it, but it would have been noticed immediately.

Technoblade had taken the tray without prompting. Tommy couldn't help the twitch of his lips as he fought a smile. Technomaid.

"Now, what would you like to know?" Phil looked relaxed, sitting cross legged on the blankets, back to the door. Tommy gave him a disbelieving look.

"Why did the cow jump over the moon? What the fuck do you think, Philza? Why am I here?!" He threw his hands in the air, done with this weird game they were playing.

Phil's hands came up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just trying to figure out where to start. Hm, what do you know about avian hybrids?"

"Uh, they got bird wings? And, apparently, they fuckin' sprout out your back like some fucked up feathered daisies." Phil looked uncomfortable with the wording but didn't disagree.

"Well, yes, but there's more to it than that."

Tommy rolled his eyes.

"No shit. Would you care to enlighten me or are you just gonna make vague statements all day?"

Phil sighed. He was doing that a lot. Big man needed to work on his breathing.

"When an avian grows their wings, the event is a very delicate and sensitive process. Physically and mentally. While it's not deadly - we wouldn't have survived as a species if it was - there can be lasting, even irreversible damage done to the body, if not properly cared for.

"To prevent this potential harm, certain steps are taken. Nesting, chirping, imprinting. These are all basic - and I mean the bare minimum - requirements to have a safe and happy nestling." Phil's gaze raked over Tommy's form. The boy had become more and more tense as Phil spoke.

"Even without you practically confirming you had none of those things, I can tell just by your appearance you have been neglected in that aspect."

Tommy bristled. "Well, maybe I'm just built different. Big man like me, don't need any of that shit-"

"No." Phil's voice turned suddenly harsh and Tommy couldn't help but flinch.

"Neither you, nor any other nestling, should be going without this. These are the basic essentials, along with food and water." He gestured sharply to Tommy's form. "Fuck, Tommy have you even been getting that? You're thin as a rail! No wonder your wings are so-" Phil cut himself off, eyes widening before he schooled his expression.

Tommy felt his stomach drop. Oh, god. So there was something wrong with his wings?!

"What are you talking about? What's wrong with them?!" The appendages in question pressed against his back, trying to sink back into his skin.

"Nothing. I didn't-"

"Don't lie! I'm not deaf! I deserve to know! What's wrong with them?!" What's wrong with me?!

Phil looked pained and he seemed to be struggling to keep eye contact with Tommy. Well, fuck him. He's not the one with apparently fucked up wings!

"You said you had them for about a month, correct?" Phil spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words.

"What does that have to do with-!"

"It's important. Please just answer."

"...Yeah. I think so? Didn't exactly have a fuckin' calendar or something to check the date." Tommy was also pretty out of it during the whole thing. He slept a lot, with Dream shaking him awake to pour water and food down his throat.

"That's what I was afraid of." Phil sighed. He removed his hat to run his hand through his hair. He stared at the hat as he spoke next.

"You already have down feathers. But for your age - your age as a nestling, I mean - that's not normal. You shouldn't have started producing feathers for at least another month. All energy should have gone to growing and strengthening the limbs. The fact that they don't even reach your elbows when spread yet…"

Tommy had never been more aware of how small his wings were. Sure, he knew they were tiny but he didn't know how this worked! Were they really supposed to be bigger already? Was he so messed up that even his wings - which he didn't even know he was going to have! - came out wrong?

He stared at his hands in favor of Philza. He didn't want to see those giant black wings curled gently around the man. He forced down any feelings he had on the subject. It didn't matter. He didn't even want the stupid things.

"So what? Why do you care?" His voice was bitter as he blinked fast. God, this place was so dusty. Did Phil ever clean? His eyes were watering from all of it.

"Tommy, why wouldn't I care? You're practically a baby by avian standards. If you came across a human baby, suffering and alone, would you really leave them there to die?" Tommy finally looked up, bristling at the implication.

"Of course not! Because it's an actual baby! I'm not! I am sixteen!" He snarled. "I can take care of myself! And I'm goddamn old enough to comprehend shit and tell you that I don't want to be here!"

Philza just stared, his expression irritatingly calm. Yet, it was that hint of sympathy, of pity, in his eyes that really set Tommy off.

"Stop looking at me like that!" He roared, jumping to his feet. He felt his wings flare out in his anger. His stumpy, fucked up wings. His anger burned even brighter in response.

"This is a fucking kidnapping! I don't want to be here and I don't want your help! I don't need your help! I'm not just gonna sit in this fucking bird crib and play house with you for the next- for-"

Something occurred to Tommy during his rant.

"..You said I wasn't even supposed to have the fluffy feathers yet. Down feathers? Whatever, but you just said that. How long does it take?"

When Phil didn't immediately answer, the anger that had already started to cool down, gave way to panic.

"How long, Philza?! How long are you- how long will it take?!" He shouted, trying to sound angry but failing. His voice was strained with anxiousness.

There was another pause as Phil gave him a long look, searching for something. Tommy didn't know what it was but his lips thinned and he spoke again.

"Wing development can vary based on the specific breed. On average though...about a year. Give or take a few months."

Oh, fuck.

"No." He gasped. "No, I'm not- you can't- I'm not staying here for-" He clutched his chest, each breath a fight that came out in a wheeze. Phil was scrambling to his feet, reaching out towards Tommy.

"Toms, little one-" Tommy ripped his arm away from Philza's grasping hand. He stumbled backwards, trying to escape. He needed to get away. But there was no way out, Phil was blocking the door. His gaze darted around wildly before landing on hope.

Tommy dove for the window, ignoring Phil's desperate pleading. He scrambled for the latch but met smooth wood. What? It- there was no latch. The window had no way to open. Tommy whined, high pitched and terrified as he sank to the floor.

He needed to get away. He needed to get out. But he couldn't get away. Besides, running always made the punishment so much worse when he was inevitably caught. Tears were dripping down his cheeks as Dream loomed over him. Why did he try to run? Why couldn't he be good and just obey-?

His head was snapping towards the sound before he even processed hearing it. It was a repetitive, short sound. Almost like a whistle but with the roughness of vocal cords instead of only air. He didn't know what it was but the bird inside him didn't care. All it knew was he should pay attention.

The sound repeated once more. As the panicked haze faded, his blurry gaze finally began to clear. Dream's green and white colors shifted and Tommy's chin was tilted up to meet blue, concerned eyes.

"Back with me?" Philza asked.

Because Dream wasn't here. Phil was.

The hold on his chin was so gentle, Tommy could probably pull his head away if he really wanted to. But he was too exhausted to try.

"Phil, please. Let me go. Just.. just give me food and blankets. I'll make a nest! Don't do this."

Phil looked gutted, which was unfair. He had no right to be so upset when he was the one keeping Tommy here.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." He began, ending any hope that was left. "I already said. This development is fragile for the body and the mind. If it was just as simple as giving you some blankets and a steady food source, don't you think I would have done that? You need to imprint. You need to chirp. You need safety and comfort and love."

His hand not holding Tommy's chin came up to wipe at the tears on the nestling's cheeks. The touch was so gentle it caused a new wave to spill out.

"Oh, little one." Phil sighed, pulling Tommy in. Or, he tried to at least. Tommy resisted, shoving at the older avian's chest.

"Stop." He gasped, pressing hard to push Phil away. Tommy's back was to the blanket barrier, nowhere to go, so he needed to get Phil away instead.

"Mate-"

"No! I don't want you! I don't- go away! Get away from me!" He sobbed harder. It was humiliating, how emotional he had become. With how Phil had talked about this stupid bird brain, it was probably caused by that. Didn't mean he needed Phil to coddle him, no matter what the man said.

Phil resisted the pressure for a few moments, and Tommy was sure he was going to be scooped up regardless. He could practically see Phil's thoughts. But then he was moving away and Tommy was free.

He ignored how alone he suddenly felt. He ignored the chill that immediately rushed through him. He curled up into a ball and burrowed his face into the blanket barrier.

"I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make this easier for you."

Tommy said nothing.

"I know this is scary. I swear, I'll make sure you will be as happy here as you can be."

Tommy curled into a tighter ball. Still silent.

"Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you?"

"Leave." He finally hissed.

"...I'm sorry, I can't let you-"

"No, you leave! Get out! Just leave me the fuck alone!" His voice cracked as he yelled. There was a silence where Tommy panted for breath, sniffling intermittently.

"Okay, Tommy. I'll give you some time alone. I-" Phil cut himself off. There was a pause and then the soft sound of feet walking across blankets.

A door opens and then closes, the click of the handle loud in an otherwise quiet room.

Then, Tommy was alone. He bit his knuckles, hard, trying to hold in his sobs.

Tommy was alone. Phil wasn't here. Techno wasn't here.

Dream wasn't here.

He hadn't had a moment until now to think about his friend. Dream must have come to visit him again, already. Seen his empty tent, the untucked blankets, the scattered potatoes laying outside of it. Would he assume Tommy ran? Or would he realize he had been taken? Was he already looking for him, or did he mark Tommy as a dead man?

Anxiety curled in his gut and he bit harder, tasting blood as he broke the skin of his knuckle.

He needed to get back to Dream. He needed to explain what happened, what Phil was trying to do. Then, he'd be safe.

Dream would keep him safe, Tommy told himself. Told the little bird inside him who seemed to shy away from the reassurance.

He had to get back to Dream, because this? This wasn't safe. Sure, there was a comfort here that Phil was offering to provide, but it wasn't a comfort that could last. Safety was with Dream and his rules because at least there, Tommy knew what to do to be good. Here, everything was different and soft and false.

Tommy needed to get out of here. Tommy needed to get back to Dream.

Chapter Text

Tommy didn't fall asleep so much as zone out. He had the same sensation of unrest that was ever present while in Logsteadshire. Tommy refused to analyze the connotations of sleeping fine in Phil's hold earlier.

A knocking at the door drew him out of the float his mind had settled into. He stared at the closed door, unsure what to do. Was he… supposed to answer it? No way it was unlocked. He couldn't exactly tell them to piss off and expect them to listen.

"You asleep, Theseus?" 

Ugh , of course it was Technoblade. Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with more of Phil's pitying looks and annoying coddling.

"Tommy?"

"Piss off." 

The knob turned. Fucker.

Techno came in with another tray. This time, there was only one set of dishware. The piglin hybrid stopped suddenly, eyes zeroing in on Tommy. The teen glared, not bothering to sit up.

"You're bleeding." Technoblade stated flatly. Tommy blinked, and glanced down at where Techno was focusing his gaze. The knuckle he had been gnawing on earlier was red and raw, drops of blood crusting in a small bite shape.

"Your hair is pink." He shifted, shoving the hand under his body. "Look at us, using our eyes. Big men with big bulging eyeballs that see shit and say shit. Fuck does it matter to you, anyway?"

There was a pause before Techno gave his own shrug. "It doesn't. I just don't want Phil blamin' that on me . "

Tommy didn't respond, resolving to zone back out to the float he had settled into earlier. Dissociation is great. Everyone should use it to solve their problems, Tommy decided.

"Brought dinner. Phil wanted me to ask you if you had any allergies." Techno moved slowly. It wasn't a lazy sort of slow. It was the pace of someone who was sure in his movements and saw no need to add any flairs. A true warrior, Technoblade knew what unnecessary additions to an action could cause: death.

In Combat or setting up dinnerware, Technoblade still moved with necessity alone.

Tommy still didn't respond to Technoblade. He wasn't hungry anyway, no matter how delicious the smell was. When Tommy didn't move, Techno sighed and settled against the wall, picking up the mug he had brought with him.

"Alright, sit there if you want. Doesn't bother me."

Tommy still gave no reaction. Despite what many people believed, he could be quiet when he wanted to. Dream helped him understand that. 

There was a loud slurp. His gaze slid back to Technoblade without meaning to. The piglin hybrid was taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his drink, seemingly at ease.

Tommy huffed and went back to staring at the wall. There was silence again, and Tommy felt himself starting to drift-

Sluuuurp.

His eyelid twitched.

…

Sluuuuuuuurp-

"What is your problem?!" Tommy snapped, shoving off the ground and glaring at the man.

Technoblade swirled his mug, tilting his head back a bit as he made a show of pondering the question.

"Well, I wear a hoglin skull and I'm a retired anarchist, so that's two things."

Tommy dropped his head back down, yelling into the blankets. He hated how well the floor was padded. Even hitting his head against the ground, Tommy didn't feel any real impact. Just the ridiculous amounts of blankets and pillows squishing and softening the blow.

"Look, the sooner you eat, the sooner I can get out of your feathers, alright? Neither of us want to be doin' this and yet here we are."

"Why are you doing this?" Tommy turned his glare back on Technoblade. "Phil, sure. It doesn't make any fuckin' sense but at least he told me. You? Forgive me, O Mighty Blade, if I'm a little hesitant to believe you'd wanna adopt me as your fuckin- bird baby, or whatever."

"Fair. And true. If it were up to me, this?" He gestured at the room around them. "I'd make this into, I dunno. A trophy room or somethin'."

Tommy felt a small flare of hope.

"Well, if you know it's wrong, why am I here?" He asked desperately. "C'mon, big man! Tell Phil he can shove it and we can go back to you with your trophy rooms and me with my awesome existence away from here!"

Techno stared at Tommy, not speaking. The tension grew and grew and finally, Technoblade spoke.

"Eat your dinner, Tommy. Phil made it for you." 

The hope died. Tommy wasn't stupid, he could read between the lines.

Phil wants you here. So I will support that. 

"Fuck you, Technoblade." Tommy hissed.

"Bruuuh. Just eat the food."

"No! No, fuck you! I'm not eating shit!" His wings flared again as he leapt to his feet. A parody of the earlier conversation with Philza.

They stared each other down, Tommy panting and Techno unmoving. Tommy waited, expecting something. A threat. Violence. Anger. Shouting. 

Technoblade did none of those things. He just shrugged again and stood up. Tommy suppressed a flinch. 

"Want to use the bathroom now, or later?" 

Tommy blinked, the topic change left him reeling.

"...Wha'?"

"The bathroom? I know you're used to roughin' it but here in a sophisticated society we use this magical thing called 'toilets'-"

"Oh, fuck you." Tommy growled. "Yeah, I wanna use the fuckin' bathroom." It would be the perfect time to observe the layout of the house. He needed any and all advantages he could get.

He followed Technoblade out, the hybrid holding the door for him and shutting it behind them both. The hallway was small. Only one other door in it. Techno gestured towards it, leaning against the wall.

"Have fun." He drawled, clearly planning on waiting for Tommy to finish.

He growled wordlessly and made sure to slam the door extra hard behind him. Very faintly, he could hear another "Bruhh." Tommy smirked.

After relieving himself, Tommy washed his hands and glanced at the mirror. He paused, and then looked again. Tommy stared at his reflection. He realized it was the first time he had seen it in months. 

The bags under his eyes were nothing new, but now they had deepened to a dark purple. Minor scratches dotted his sunken cheeks, the healing having slowed due to poor diet and sleep. His hair was greasy and matted, hanging limp down to his shoulders. He reached up to trail his fingertips down the side of his face, leaning closer as he did so. 

Even his eyes looked lifeless.

He wrenched his hand away along with his gaze. Instead, he focused on the countertop. Watching how his knuckles whitened from how hard he gripped the edge of it. 

Tommy decided mirrors were for small people and he was too much of a big man to bother with them. Instead he focused on his surroundings, taking in the rest of the room.

The bathroom was the same style as the rest of the house. Oak wood and stone. A plush rug was laid out next to the bathtub, and a few different toiletries rested on the rim. He stepped over and lifted one up, reading the side. Shampoo. The next said conditioner and the third he assumed to be body wash.

The fourth bottle piqued his curiosity. Lifting it up, he read: "Down and Drowsy: Nestling's first oil!"

Tommy stood there for a second, processing what he just read. Then, he made a decisive nod and turned to the toilet.

The cap popped off with an easy twist and Tommy didn't hesitate to dump the contents into the bowl. He chucked the bottle into the trashcan next to the sink. He had about two seconds to feel righteously satisfied before there was a knock on the door.

"Should I ask why you're flushing multiple times?"

It was at this moment Tommy realized he fucked up. Fuck, why did he do that? They would definitely notice the bottle was gone. Should he fess up? He just wasted their things, Prime only knew what they were going to do to him when they found out.

"Tommy?"

Panic threatened to overwhelm him but he pushed it back.

"What? Can't a man shit in peace? Everyone knows you gotta flush twice. You telling me you're one of those "one-flush" pussies? Truly you are the lowest of men." 

There was a pause.

"Okay, gonna pretend we never had this interaction. Just get out here, if you're done."

When all else fails, Tommy thought, just say random shit.

"Yeah, one second." He ran the faucet for a little bit, in case Techno could hear it. 

Afterwards, he stepped back out into the hallway, trying not to look guilty. Thankfully he had a lot of practice with that while staying in Logsteadshire. Turns out all that lying to Dream had come in handy, as shitty as it was.

Technoblade clearly gave him a once over but didn't go into the bathroom to check what Tommy had done. Amateur. Dream would have already done a survey of everything in there to make sure Tommy was following the rules.

"Alright." Techno tilted his head in the direction of the…room they were keeping Tommy in. Tommy scowled but made no protest. He needed to play his cards right.

Technoblade shut the door behind them both. Tommy stood in the center of the room, arms crossed. Technoblade didn't speak and the teen felt a stab of irritation.

"Just gonna fuckin' stand there and stare at me-" He turned and cut off. Technoblade wasn't in the room. 

Oh. Tommy had thought...but apparently not? The man hadn't followed him in.

Why did he feel slightly hurt?

"Thank Prime." He muttered to himself, trying to convince his brain this was a good thing. He shifted his stance and something clattered near his foot.

Glancing down, Tommy realized Techoblade had left the meal with him. He wet his lips, eyeing the plate of food and then the door. He wasn't stupid, Techno definitely left it on purpose. But Tommy couldn't tell what the angle was. Was he looking for a reason to punish Tommy? Or did he want Tommy to eat it and he was going to be pissed if he came back to a full plate?

He...did tell Tommy to eat earlier, but was that only for when Techno was in the room? Dream always made sure he ate everything that was given to him right away. He didn't want Tommy to waste even a little bit. 

His stomach growled and he inched closer to the meal. It was a mix of vegetables and mashed potatoes with gravy. Simple but it smelled delicious.

He glanced at the door again, paranoid it was about to burst open and Techno was going to chew him out for daring to be greedy. The door did not move.

Though...that might not be a good thing. Tommy just now remembered the empty bottle in the bathroom can.

Fuck, was that where Techno was right now? Was he scouring the bathroom for anything Tommy had touched? Suddenly the paranoia was overwhelming.

Well, you're definitely getting your ass beat either way. Might as well do it with a full stomach.  

With his new resolve, Tommy didn't hesitate to snatch up the spoon and begin shoveling the plate's contents into his mouth. The food was cold now but Tommy didn't care. He wasn't even registering the taste, he just wanted to eat before he was denied food for who knows how long.

He ate so fast, his spoon was scraping the plate in what felt like only five minutes.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, giving the door another glance as he did so. It remained closed but Tommy knew it was only a matter of time. 

The food was settling heavy in his stomach and the feeling of being full was only satisfying for a moment before it grew uncomfortable. His stomach cramped and he clutched at it. Tommy swallowed hard and groaned. He had eaten too fast and now his body was letting him now just what it thought of that action.

I will not throw up. He told himself. He wouldn't. That would be such a waste. Even if he had to suffer through the pain and nausea, he would keep the goddamn food down. 

Because the world was clearly against Tommy, it was at this moment he heard movement outside the door. Low murmuring, too muffled for him to make out before someone knocked on the door. (He still hadn't figured out why they were bothering to do that.) 

"Hey, mate. Techno said you didn't like the food? Anything else I could get you?"

There was a muffled response from Techno. "Pretty sure it's not the food that's bothering him, Phil."

Phil knocked again, clearly ignoring the opinion.

"Tommy?"

Tommy couldn't respond. He was too busy trying not to up-chuck all over the floor.

The doorknob turned and Phil poked his head in. When he saw Tommy hunched over, clutching his stomach, the man rushed in. 

"Oh sweetheart, did you eat too fast?" His voice was toeing that cooing sound from earlier. It made Tommy's head fuzzy and much more difficult to focus on keeping the food down. He whined, high pitched and fearful. It just made Phil coo again, resting his hand on Tommy's upper back.

The urge to cough quickly turned to gagging and then Tommy lost the battle with his body.

Phil held him through it, making shushing noises and petting his hair. When Tommy was done, he gently maneuvered his boy away from the mess. He pulled Tommy to his chest, humming nonsensical but comforting sounds. 

Tommy didn't have the energy to fight. He just shook in Phil's hold and waited for the man to decide on his punishment for wasting their food and ruining their blankets. A gentle kiss was pressed to his brow.

"Thank you." Phil said. Tommy was confused. Why was he thanking Tommy for ruining their shit? 

"Tommy, do you think you could drink some water?" He was pulled away slightly and a glass held in front of him. Tommy glanced to the side and saw Techno hovering nearby.

Oh. Phil had been thanking Techno. That made more sense.

Tommy didn't resist when the glass was pressed to his lips.

"Small sips, okay?" Phil hummed, his voice still creating that odd two-toned sound. How was he doing that? Was it a bird thing? Tommy idly pondered this as he sipped at the water, letting it wet his throat and settle his stomach. He pulled away when his stomach cramped threateningly. As much as he didn't want to anger Philza for refusing his gift, Tommy figured it'd be much worse if he was sick again. This time all over the man instead of just his things.

"Good job." Phil praised. Tommy squirmed, feeling silly over how pleased the compliment made him. He knew this was just a trick. Something temporary until he felt better enough that he'd be able to really feel his punishment. He couldn't help it though. Right now, he felt terrible. So Tommy clung onto the scraps of affection, wanting just a little comfort in the midst of how badly he felt.

There was a rustling of blankets. Tommy looked over and saw Techno collecting the ruined ones. He shrunk into Phil's arms, like the man would protect him from Technoblade's wrath or even his own.

"Sorry…" He whispered and Phil squeezed him tighter.

"No, little one, you've nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry. We should have made sure you ate slower or given you smaller portions at first." Fuck , they were going to start starving him now. Well, at least they weren't planning on hitting him. 

Technoblade made a noise. 

"I was gone for like a minute." He grumbled. Phil sighed.

"He's still a baby, Techno." 

Tommy wanted to protest the title, but he was getting off practically scot-free for what he did. For once, he kept his mouth shut.

"Let's get you cleaned up, huh? Then we can get you something easier on your stomach to eat." Another kiss to his forehead. Then, Phil was lifting him up and leaving Techno to clean up the mess. 

Tommy was carried across the hall into the bathroom. Phil placed him to sit on the bath tub's rim. He gave Tommy a reassuring smile and then turned away. 

Phil rustled through the cabinets under the sink. He pulled out what looked like an unopened toothbrush and some toothpaste. He placed it on the counter and turned on the faucet, running the water and checking the temperature until it was to his liking. When he was satisfied, Phil wet a hand towel he had also retrieved from the cabinet. 

Once the towel was sufficiently wet, Phil turned the faucet off. He squeezed the towel a few times so it was no longer dripping water, and then turned back to Tommy.

Tommy didn't resist as Phil tilted his head back, one hand holding his chin and the other gently wiping his face. The towel was pleasantly warm but not burning and it soothed the exhausted chill that had set in after he was sick. He closed his eyes, sighing as he relaxed into the gentle care. He couldn't remember the last time someone doted on him like this. For once, he pushed down any thoughts of how long this would last, or what Phil was planning, Tommy just let him soak in the attention.

Once Phil had wiped down Tommy's face, he released the boy's chin and cupped his cheek. Tommy stared at Phil through half-lidded eyes. Phil smiled softly.

"Go ahead and get the taste out." Phil handed the toothbrush and toothpaste to Tommy, who accepted it without thinking. He squirted some on the bristles, standing up when it looked like Phil was trying to work around him. He scrubbed away the lingering sour and spat into the sink. Tommy ran the faucet again to wash away the spit. He leaned in, rinsing his mouth as well.

 In the corner of his eye, he saw Phil glancing over the bottles on the bathtub's rim. He then began to look around more broadly, a confused expression on his face. Tommy froze and then forced himself to keep moving normally. It was obvious what Phil was looking for, and Tommy silently prayed the man wouldn't think to check the trash can.

"Huh, I thought I left it here…" Phil mumbled, and then shook his head. Turning back to Tommy, he saw the teenager was staring back at him and smiled.

"You're done? Well, looks like we'll have to wait on the preening. I need to get some more oil for you. If you'd like to take a bath, do you think you could keep your wings out of the water?" Phil didn't need to step closer. The bathroom was small enough that he was able to extend one of his wings, and drape it gently around Tommy. 

He couldn't escape the touch. Moving forward and out of it meant being closer to Phil. He ignored how he could feel his own wings twitch and press backwards against Phil's much larger one.

"Yeah, whatever." He mumbled when he realized Phil was still expecting an answer. Apparently, it wasn't enough because Phil still hesitated. 

"We really don't want to get them wet right now. Especially if I don't have the right oil yet. If you want, I could wrap them again-"

Oh fuck no. No one was touching his wings if Tommy had any say.

"I fucking said I was fine, didn't I?" He snapped, shoving at the wing draped around him. Phil reluctantly pulled it away. 

"...Alright. Everything you need should be here. There's extra towels under the sink." Phil bent down and retrieved the rag from the tub. As he exited the bathroom, he placed a hand in the space between Tommy's wings. It was there for less than a second before Tommy was flinching away from the touch. Phil looked sad but did not comment on the motion.

"Let me know if you need anything. I won't be far." With that, the avian exited the bathroom. Tommy didn't hesitate to lock it behind him.

Then, he was alone. Tommy leaned his head on the door for a moment, trying to process the whirlwind of the past hour. Somehow he had gotten through it without being beaten to a pulp. It didn't reassure him, though. Who knows where the line was with those two?

Well, Tommy was beginning to think he had crossed the line with Techno already. It just seemed like the piglin hybrid adhered to Phil when it came to Tommy's punishment. So Tommy really needed to  watch out for the older man.

That wasn't a comfort either. Because when Tommy inevitably crossed that line, both hybrids would be coming for his head. 

Tommy was so fucking screwed.

Chapter Text

Tommy doesn't spend too long in the bath.

He's not sure how long he's allowed to have, so he hurries through the motions. It didn't help that Phil's insistence to keep his wings dry made it awkward to wash his back. He can feel some of the spots he accidentally splashed the limbs dripping with water. 

Well, it was a stupid rule anyway. Tommy doubts Phil keeps his wings dry when he bathes. Those fuckers are like twice his size fully spread.

There's a knock on the door as he's toweling off.

"Mate, I've got some clothes for you to change into." Tommy frowns and stares at his shirt.

"What's wrong with mine?" There's a slight chuckle.

"Well, you're welcome to wear that but I thought you'd like something not covered in vomit?"

...Right.

"Y'know Phil, I think it's very rude you'd want me to wear clothes all trashed, when you've got a perfectly good pair. I think the least you could do is offer me something nicer." 

Phil laughed. "Just come get the clothes, 'ya little shit." The footsteps grew soft as Phil left.

He unlocked the door and snatched the new clothes, shutting it quickly afterwards. 

He took a moment to look over what he was holding.

It was a simple shirt and a pair of trousers. Both were incredibly soft to the touch and looked more like a pajama set than outdoor clothes. It was probably intentional but the idea of putting on his old clothes sounded disgusting. He'd just have to grit his teeth and bear it until he could get his old stuff back. 

He pulled the pants and his old underwear on (as gross as it was, it would've been pretty weird if Phil did have underwear in his size) and turned his attention to the shirt. 

It was a normal button-up t-shirt, the same pale blue as the pants. The back was what drew his attention. Two slits vertical and parallel were sewn carefully into the back. It was obviously meant for his wings but where Tommy had just slashed some holes with a sword, this shirt was carefully sewn. Stitches small and tight so as to create some openings that weren't under threat of tearing open even more.

Tommy had to admit it was actually pretty smart to use a button-up for wings. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he realized it was similar to putting a jacket on. Just with some extra limbs that refused to cooperate.

After an embarrassingly long time and a dozen extra curse words, he was fully dressed.

Tommy wasn't sure what to do with his old clothes, so he just carried them awkwardly out of the bathroom with him. He instinctively headed for the nes- the stupid prisoner room when he realized he was alone.

No one was watching him. He could… he could just leave. Or at least try to leave. How could he have forgotten that so quickly? Phil was getting to his head, he needed to get out of here.

"Oh, are you done?" God damnit.

"...Yeah." He turned to Phil. The man was staring at him with the same soft look from earlier. 

"You look much better now. Who knew there was an actual person under all that dirt." Phil chuckled, reaching a hand out to smooth down Tommy's damp hair. The teen ducked his head away from the touch. Phil didn't seem to mind. He switched gears and held his hands out.

"I'll get those taken care of for you, Toms. You run along, back to the nest, alright?"

It was phrased like a question, but Tommy knew better. He reluctantly headed towards the door, glancing back to see if Phil was still watching him. He was.

"I'll be there soon. Don't worry." Phil misunderstood the glances but Tommy wasn't going to correct him. He just nodded and entered the nest.

Fuck. The room they were keeping him in.

Phil hadn't lied. It was only a few minutes later when he returned, clothes nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was holding a tray with what looked like a small bowl and some bread resting upon it. 

"I whipped up something easier for your stomach to handle. Eat only as much as you feel like. We don't want you getting sick again." Phil placed the tray on the ground.

Tommy stared at the bowl in confusion. Didn't Phil say he wasn't getting anymore? It didn't make sense for them to keep wasting food on him.

"I...might get sick again, anyway, big man." He chose his words carefully, not wanting to seem ungrateful - that might set him off too - but definitely not wanting a repeat of earlier. No way Phil would be as kind if Tommy threw up another meal. 

"That's alright, ne-Tommy. Just take it slow."

Tommy listened, taking small sips of the broth and nibbling on the bread. He only ate a bit of the latter, worried how it would affect his already upset stomach. He still remembered the one time the crows brought him an old loaf they found. He'd had stomach cramps for the rest of the day. They never brought any more after that.

Tommy didn't tell Phil this. Instead, he hoped his earlier sickness would excuse him not eating the bread. Phil didn't mention it so Tommy figured it was fine.

After the meal, Phil took the tray back and a few minutes later re-entered. This time, with company. 

Tommy narrowed his eyes at Technoblade, who made no mention of the sheer animosity pouring off the boy. Phil was electing to ignore both parties' childish behaviors. He handed something to Techno and turned back to Tommy.

"I noticed your hand is a little scratched, so I brought some band-aids." He knelt in front of Tommy and held a hand out for him to place his own on. Tommy clutched the hand in question to his chest.

"It's just a scratch. I'm fine." Phil had to be joking. This was such a waste of resources, Tommy has had way worse injuries and he never bothered with bandages for those, and look! He's fine!

Phil was frowning now, that concerned look mixed with something more tense. 

"Tommy, you can put them on yourself, if it makes you feel better. You will be putting these on, regardless." Fuck, okay. He held out the non-injured hand silently. Phil placed the band-aids in Tommy's palm, now looking much happier.

As odd as it was that this was what was finally having Phil reach the end of his patience, Tommy felt relieved that he at least knew where it was. He wasn't sure what to do with "put on band-aids when I tell you to, or else" but it was something.

"Thank you. Now, I noticed your wings were a little damp-" Tommy's heart dropped. Fuck, fuck, when did Phil even see that- "-but, I managed to find another bottle of oil." 

Tommy wasn't paying attention to the light bickering Technoblade and Phil had started. He was trying to calm his racing heart.

"-my defense, I still think six bottles is a little excessive."

"Would you care to repeat that in your storage room? How many gapples do you have again?"

"See but, those burn so fast!"

"Mate, I produce my own oil. Tommy won't for at least another few months. Trust me, we're already cutting it close with the amount we have."

Tommy tuned back into the conversation and tried to follow along. His eyes were drawn to the bottle Techno was passing Phil.

...Oh, come on.

He glared at that stupid bottle and then glared at the man holding it. The pleased smile Phil had faltered in the face of Tommy's irritation.

"What is that?" Tommy leaned back like the bottle was contagious.

"It's just wing oil, mate. This one is made for down feathers. It'll be less harsh on your wings, they're pretty sensitive to stuff like this, right now." He gestured for Tommy to turn around. 

Tommy did not move. He wasn't an idiot. No way he was letting Phil or anyone else near his wings if he had any say.

Phil waited a moment, and when Tommy did not move, he sighed.

"Trust me, you don't want to know what it feels like to have unpreened, wet feathers. The dirt all clumps together and it'll be painful to remove. The sooner we get this done, the sooner it'll be over, yeah?"

Tommy mulled this over. He held a hand out, instead.

"Fine, I'll do it then." Unlike the band-aids, Phil did not give Tommy the bottle.

"Sorry mate, you've never done this before. It's already difficult to preen alone. For someone that's had no experience, it'll be practically impossible."

"Well then, guess it's not happenin'." He snapped back. Phil was probably lying about the wet feathers anyway. And if he wasn't, well, Phil only said it was painful to preen after that. Tommy just won't preen!

Phil did not seem to appreciate this conclusion. His eyes narrowed and Tommy had to resist the urge to shrink away.

"Tommy-"

"Just let 'im be, Phil. If he wants to deal with the consequences of that, he can deal with 'em."

Phil whipped around to glare at the piglin hybrid.

" Techno, this isn't-"

"Besides, when was the last time you preened?" Phil sputtered at the question. "Uh, huh. Yeah, thought so."

Techno moved from his seat against the wall and stretched. "Alright, c'mere, old man. Can't be throwin' rocks from a glass house."

Phil didn't move for a moment. "Mate, I really don't think-"

"What? You scared or somethin'? It's just a preen, Phil. I'm not gonna hurt 'ya. You know that." 

Phil studied his friend, then seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. With a sigh, he scooted away slightly and unfurled his wings, allowing Techno access.

"What- wait, what are you doing?" Technoblade was as impossible to read as always. He didn't look at Tommy despite the question.

"Pretty obvious, Theseus. I'm preening Phil." 

The man in question laid on his stomach, Techno scooting closer once he was settled. 

"In-in here? " Tommy stared at the two, eyes glancing down at Phil's wings and then looking away. He felt slightly awkward that he was witnessing this. It wasn't intimate or anything, but Tommy wasn't sure how to feel about Phil so readily allowing himself into such a vulnerable position.

"It's just a preen, Toms. It doesn't need to be a whole event." Phil chuckled. He had his head turned towards Tommy, cheek resting on his arms. He wasn't showing any signs of discomfort or care over Techno digging through his feathers.

Though, that probably wasn't the right choice of words. Tommy observed how gentle Technoblade was with the limbs. He used one hand to gently coax a wing to extend. Then, his free hand trailed through the top feathers. He moved confidently but meticulously, removing bits of dirt and smoothing down skewed feathers.

Phil closed his eyes with a content sigh, letting Technoblade work.

Tommy couldn't help but crane his head to get a better look. He had never seen another avian preen. He didn't even know until recently that this was something they even did. But Technoblade moved like it was a common occurrence, everything about his and Phil's body language screamed "this is normal."

There was a happy chirp. Tommy jumped and glanced around, expecting to see a bird. It took him a second to realize the sound had come from Phil .

The avian still had his eyes closed but he now had a sleepy, pleased expression on his face. He made another chirping sound.

"Uh…" Technoblade glanced over at Tommy and saw what the teenager was focused on.

"Oh, that's normal. He always gets like this with a good preen. It's like a massage." Technoblade shrugged.

Hearing the piglin hybrid's voice seemed to excite Phil because he made a twittering sound. Tommy felt oddly tense at that, but not in a bad way. It was like the build up of adrenaline when he'd be excited over something. Yet, he didn't feel excited. Weird.

"All the feathers are a little delicate, but the ones near the joints here are especially sensitive. He gets more vocal when I clean them." Technoblade gestures at Phil's back and Tommy crawled closer to see. He glanced at Phil intermittently, half expecting the man to rear up and shout at him for getting so close to his fragile wings. He did nothing of the sort, just continued to lie on the blankets and let Techno do as he pleased.

"Hybrid anatomy differs from the mobs we come from." Technoblade continued on, showing no signs of anything out of the ordinary. "But I'd say the closest equivalent would be the tertials."

"The turtles?"

" Tertials . It's these small feathers bunched together around his back." Techno ran gentle fingers through the feathers in question. The sound Phil made in response had Tommy trying not to laugh.

"Did he just fuckin' purr? "

"Eh, I'd say more of a warble. Who can tell with the bird brain, though."

"Hmm… Tech' purrs." Phil mumbled. Apparently he was still following the conversation, just not contributing.

This time, Tommy did laugh. It was loud enough that it drowned out Techno groaning.

"No way! I can't believe the great big, scary-"

"No, Phil! My brand! Why…"

"-Blood God purrs! You a cat? Techno, are you a pussy? Hey, hey, Technoblade! Mr. Blood God-"

"Theseus, you are toeing the line here."

Tommy stopped after that, not wanting the lighthearted mood ruined by a beating. Still, he chuckled to himself, the threat not ruining his mood one bit.

Phil made a grumpy sound and there was a shifting of feathers. Tommy realized he was shaking his wing, gently.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not done, you big baby." Technoblace returned to his task, having moved onto the next wing.

Tommy watched him work and realized something.

"Hey, how come you have that bottle for me? You're not using it on Phil." Technoblade shrugged.

"I could, but it's not necessary for Phil. He's got his own oil he produces naturally. The glands are around here, and here." He pointed to what looked, to Tommy, to be random spots on Phil's wings.

"You won't start producing that until you have more pin feathers than down most likely. So. Store-bought." He shook the bottle.

"Would use mine. Didn't have enough." Phil hummed.

Tommy frowned. "...That sounds like you offering me your sweat. Fuckin' nasty, big man."

"I mean… he isn't wrong. " Technoblade said, then laughed when Phil smacked him with his free wing.

"It's'a bonding thing!" Phil growled.

"Philza Minecraft, I do not know how to be more clear. I do not- and never will - want your bird bonding sweat."

Technoblade kept snickering to himself while Phil groaned.

"No respect."

The laughter and teasing died down after a few more minutes. Then, Technoblade was absorbed in his task. He narrated what he was doing as he went, starting when he switched to the next wing. 

Tommy watched, fascinated as Techno explained the different parts of the wing, what it was for and how to clean them. It was overwhelming how many little parts there were. Tommy always thought it was like an arm. You have the forewing and the… bicep wing. The other half of it. Whatever.

"Here, I need your hands."

Tommy kept staring at the wing, wondering why Technoblade stopped. Then, he processed the statement.

"Wh - huh? Me? "

"No, I'm talking to Skeppy. Skeppy, come over here from wherever you are in the SMP, right now-"

"Okay, I get it. I get it . I don't think he wants me touching him, Big T. I'm gonna fuck it up somehow."

"Tommy, I'm asking you to hold a wing up, not raid a Nether fortress. Just put your hand where mine is for a second."

Tommy bit his lip, glancing at Phil. The avian hadn't spoken much the past couple minutes. He just kept making bird sounds that had Tommy's own bird brain going a little haywire. Even now, he made no protest to what Technoblade was asking. In fact, he hadn't even opened his eyes. Maybe he was asleep.

After a minute of debate, his hand slowly reached out. He hovered for a split second before pressing his hand lightly where Technoblade had asked. 

"Good. Hold it there, those coverts always get in my way at this part." Tommy barely heard what Techno said. He was focused on where his hand was touching Phil's wing.

It was so warm. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised, considering it was a wing. It had flesh and blood and shit running through it. But Tommy was still surprised that he could feel the heat radiating from the limb.

Phil still hadn't moved. Tommy was pretty sure he'd fallen asleep.

"There. Got it." Technoblade added another feather to his pile. It was tiny, really, but each time he pulled one out Tommy couldn't help but wince.

"Doesn't that hurt?" He finally asked. 

"Hm? Oh, no. These are loose already. It's a little like hair...actually, no. It's not. There's a whole thing about which one to pull and which one to leave. But it doesn't hurt, these were falling out anyway and it was probably itchy." He twirled the feather between his fingers.

"... huh."

"You can let go, y'know."

"Wha- oh." Tommy pulled his hand off of the wing. The feathers he had been lifting slowly layed back down, helped by Technoblade smoothing them into place.

"Hey, you're done. Phil, wake up." Technoblade gave Phil a few pats on the cheek. The avian furrowed his brow and grumbled, the sound more bird than man.

"C'mon, are you just gonna lay there?"

"I heard the elderly go to bed pretty early." Tommy joked.

His voice seemed to finally rouse Phil. The older blond peeked an eye open. His pupils were dilated and he made a little "rrp?" noise.

"That… was weirdly adorable. You okay, big man?"

Phil zeroed in on Tommy and he smiled. A happy grin with a pleased coo. It was a little fascinating how his mouth didn't seem to be moving with the sound. Was he making that with his chest or throat? Maybe both?

Tommy didn't have time to ponder that line of thinking. The next thing he knew, Phil had struck out, yanking Tommy into his arms. 

Tommy yelped, fear had him struggling. Fuck, this was totally revenge for daring to touch Phil's wing. But the man didn't hurt him. He felt Phil nuzzle his face into Tommy's hair, twittering and warbles slipping easily through his lips. 

"Wh- get off! Phil, what the shit!" He tried to pull away but the older avian whined and then cooed. It was the soft one. The one Tommy was starting to learn meant 'calm,' or something similar.

"Techno, help. Phil's broken."

"Ha, yeah. He gets like that after a good preen."

"Well, get him off!"

"Nope. Because if it wasn't you, it was gonna be me. Besides, it's good bonding for the flock." There was a pop noise, but Tommy couldn't see where it was coming from. His face was pressed into the crook of Phil's neck, the man still making coos and rubbing Tommy's back.

He couldn't help but relax into the affection. He obviously wasn't going anywhere and it was… kind of nice. The only thing that kept him from falling into it completely was the odd feeling in his chest whenever Phil chirped. It felt like he needed to clear his throat but there was nothing to clear. 

Hands on his wings. Tommy gasped, trying to jerk away. There was nowhere to go. Phil had him in his grasp and did not seem keen on releasing him.

"Wait, what are you-" He hated how tense his voice sounded.

"Relax, Theseus. You asked me what the oil was for. Thought I'd give you a demonstration on how it's used."

"Wh-?! What the fuck?! No, don't touch me!" He squirmed in Phil's grip but the man just pulled him impossibly closer.

"Shh." Tommy stopped out of pure surprise. He didn't think Phil was that aware right now. "'S'good. Safe. My baby. Safe nestling."

Well, guess Phil wasn't all present. Tommy's face burned at the monikers. He shoved his face into Phil's chest, wanting the humiliation to end. Phil made a sad sound.

"It's okay. I'm not hurting you, see? Just a little preen. Remember the parts of the wing? You still have down feathers so it's a little different but the direction they grow is the same-" Technoblade droned on. His voice was calming and Phil was still cuddling him.

The worst part was it didn't hurt. It felt pretty nice, actually. But he couldn't relax into it. He kept expecting for the hold on him to turn suffocating and the hands in his feathers to start yanking. Cruel laughter as they mocked him and his stunted wings.

It never happened but Tommy didn't relax once until the preen was finished. It didn't take as long as Phil's, thankfully, but by the end he was buzzing at the edge of dissociation.

Another coo and kisses were pressed into his hair. 

"Good, Theseus. You did really well." A hot hand rubbed the back of his neck, moving slowly down to the space between his wings. 

Now that the preen was over, Tommy's eyes drooped, finally able to relax. There was a weird sound, like Phil was trying to coo but couldn't make the sound right. A correct one followed it and Tommy realized he had made the first noise. God, he was fucking mimicking Phil now. Great.

He couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry. Too close to sleep.

"I'll never let anyone take you from me." Was whispered. Tommy didn't know who said it, and he didn't get the chance to ask.

Tommy slept, unaware of the two figures curled protectively around him.

Chapter Text

It had been over a week. Over a week of Phil's confusing bird shit and Technoblade enabling him. Over a week of Tommy swinging between doing everything he could to avoid their anger (they were really good at hiding it, which made it more difficult) and then trying to push them to finally react. Nothing he did ever worked which made him more anxious.

They only ever let him out to use the bathroom and he was escorted immediately back. They didn't leave him alone with food after that one incident but they never restricted it either. 

Phil spent more time than not just sitting with him, trying to start conversations. Every night, Phil found a way to cuddle Tommy. He just let out a few soft chirps, made Tommy's head all confused and at war with the bird brain, and then scooped him close.

Tommy had asked once why he kept doing it and all Phil had said was "It will help with the imprinting."

Tommy had no idea what that meant and he was a little scared to find out.

Yet, Phil never hurt him. Even when Tommy screamed at him. Even when he tore up the nest, chucking blankets left and right. Even when he - admittedly, accidentally - knocked over his mug of tea, staining the floor. And not even when Phil found out Tommy was the reason he lost the original bottle of wing oil, realizing this because he walked in on Tommy dumping out the second bottle.

Well, Phil did seem a little irritated. But he hadn't hit Tommy, he hadn't even yelled . He marched Tommy back to the nest room and then had pulled them down into the blankets. Phil held Tommy against his chest and released little grumbling chirps. They were sharp and made Tommy's bird brain squirm in discomfort. It urged him to apologize and beg for comfort but that just made Tommy do the opposite. He cursed and shouted, yelling at Phil that he'd do it again and again.

All Phil had said was. "I know. And I'll still be here when you do." If it was meant as a comfort or a threat, Tommy didn't know but it shocked him into stillness. Phil had cooed approval and Tommy shuddered, burying his face into Phil's chest.

It was terrifying how gentle the man was. He was sure Phil was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Tommy didn't know why and he didn't want to find out. So he fought and screamed - and bit on occasion, too - and Phil would watch quietly, until Tommy had exhausted himself and then Phil would scoop him up.

Tommy wouldn't fight the cuddling by that point. Instead, he went limp and hoped he could escape in sleep.

Usually Tommy would wake to Phil leaving. Sneaking kisses to his hair and cheeks when Tommy was too drowsy to really protest. It made Phil leaving even worse because the baby bird in Tommy spin around in confusion. The affection woke it up before Tommy forced it back down and shoved himself away from Phil.

There were a few times where Phil was already gone by the time Tommy woke but he wasn't alone. Technoblade was already there, sometimes reading a book, and sometimes just watching him. 

This morning, something new happened.

Tommy woke up slowly, - something that was once rare but was now becoming commonplace - and found himself to be very comfortable. He was laying on something warm and there was a buzz of satisfaction from his bird brain. 

It was quiet, no kisses to his brow, so Phil was probably already gone. He didn't feel that confused longing for once, though. Maybe his bird brain was finally getting the memo that Phil was a wrong'un.

Opening his eyes, Tommy found out that this, sadly, wasn't the case.

Phil looked rather peaceful while sleeping. His lips were parted slightly and he made a little whistling sound on every exhale. Old fart, Tommy thought.

It was the first time Tommy had ever been awake before Phil and...he wasn't really sure what to do. The man was still clinging to him like a teddy bear and Tommy worried if he tried to move it would wake Phil. 

His wings shifted, brushing against something. He turned to look and realized Phil's wings were wrapped around Tommy's back like two large blankets. He glanced back at Phil's face, gauging just how deeply he was sleeping. There was no change in the man's expression so Tommy turned his attention back to the wings. 

It was the first time since the preening that he was able to get a close look at them. He had a weird feeling if he had asked Phil the man would have gladly shown him, but that would have come with so much other shit Tommy did not want to deal with.

But like this, with Phil dozing away, Tommy could explore as he liked.

He wiggled a hand free from Phil's octopus arms and reached around himself to brush over the black feathers. They were soft and warm, twitching under his touch but otherwise still. It was a scary reminder that this was alive. The wings were attached to Phil.

Tommy's own wings pushed up without his permission, pressing against the much larger pair. The latter tightened in response, pushing Tommy more securely in Phil's hold. Phil let out a soft sigh and Tommy looked back at his face, worried he was waking. The older avian's eyes remained closed, and Tommy slowly relaxed.

The tighter hold did not let up but it was...kind of nice. He didn't feel trapped. He felt warm and-and-

Safe! The bird inside him called. Tommy started coughing. The fit didn't stop. Every time he settled, the tickle in his throat worsened. It felt like it was traveling down, into his chest. He whined, scared and confused, and the hold around him tightened again.

That made it worse. His whole body was tense and at war with his mind. He was scared but not. He wanted to run but never leave Phil's embrace.

It was overwhelming, unbearable. Tommy wanted this to stop, wanted Phil to let go so he could calm down.

He never wanted to move again.

He opened his mouth to cry out, to wake Phil, to-to-

He chirped.

Tommy, honest-to-Prime, chirped.

It sounded extremely loud compared to how quiet the room was a second ago, high-pitched and a little frightened. It didn't stop, either. The bird noises kept bubbling from his throat, growing increasingly more panicked.

It was enough to rouse Phil. The man's brow furrowed and the grip on Tommy loosened. The wings slid off of his back and panic blinded him. 

He scrambled away, running from something . Or running to something. Tommy couldn't tell. He was just scared. So, so scared and the chirps reflected that. They were more like screeches at this point and it wasn't a surprise that Phil was suddenly wide awake. The man jerked up, large wings flaring wide. His head swiveled around, landing immediately on Tommy.

The teenager was lost in a panic attack. He didn't see the way Phil's eyes widened, his lips parting in shock. The way his feathers bristled, fluffing up with every peep Tommy made.

Tommy didn't see any of this, but he did feel the arms suddenly around him, pulling him into a warm body. 

Then, he was boneless. The fear was still there, but not all-consuming. It was the fastest he had ever been pulled out of a panic attack, Tommy didn't understand what was happening for a minute.

The chirping shrieks lowered in volume, no longer deafening. Nervous twitters still continued to force their way out of Tommy's throat. They were dying off quickly, though. With every warble Phil made, his mind relaxed further.

Eventually he was sprawled in Phil's lap, panting like he had run a marathon and Phil cooing over him.

"Phil?" Tommy whispered. A dozen other questions shoved into the name. Phil cooed in response and another chirp forced its way out of Tommy. 

"S-stop." He managed to croak. Tommy lifted a hand, pressing it into Phil's robe. Originally, he intended to push the man away, but his fingers curled without Tommy's permission and he ended up clinging to Phil instead.

"Shh, shh. It's alright. Oh, little one, I'm so happy. I'm so proud of you." Phil smiled down at Tommy, eyes glinting in the morning light.

Was..was Phil crying ? Those were full-on tears in the man's eyes. 

"Tommy, you did it!" What? What did he do?! Have another panic attack?

"Did what?" He snapped, his question unintentionally coming out more scared than angry.

"You imprinted! You're chirping, Tommy. Oh, I'm so proud. You did such a good job." Phil gives him a squeeze and Tommy can't find it in him to struggle. His body won't cooperate. It's taking all his energy just to keep from burying into Phil's robes and wings and never leave.

"I didn't do anything!" He shouts desperately. He coughs and Phil coos. It forces another chirp out of Tommy. He can't stop them.

"You trusted me. You trusted yourself. I know how difficult it must have been. I promise, it's going to be okay." He's pulled, somehow, even closer to the man. 

Tommy wanted to scream but all that came out was another distressed chirp. He didn't know how to describe the feeling of the chirp. It was like he was vocalizing out two different sounds at the same time. Something that had been impossible for him to do just last night. 

Phil cooed in response to every chirp Tommy made. His body relaxed every time but his mind refused to. This...this wasn't natural. What was happening to him?!

It was at this moment the door opened.

Tommy barely registered the monotone rumblings of Technoblade. The second he heard the doorknob click he was frozen stiff. His brain wailed " Danger! Danger! Help!"

Dream touched his wings.

With a shriek, layered with chirps, Tommy scrambled away from the hand, falling off of Dream's lap. The panic worsened and he crawled blindly away from the unseen danger. 

He didn't get far before he was squished to the ground. Something laid on his back, careful not to crush his wings. Tommy choked, sharpened peeping rising in pitch for a moment. A calm warble, right next to his ear, eased the panic. 

Tommy still struggled l, but it was more in protest of the way his wings were pinned. A chuckle that vibrated through his back and the weight lifted. He was pulled up, scooped into Phil's lap and cradled.

"So, he imprinted?" Tommy jerked, the new voice skyrocketing his anxiety. Phil wrapped his wings around them both. Tommy hated how it instantly calmed his mind.

"What the fuck is going on?!" He hissed, trying desperately to hold onto his anger, or even his fear. It was slipping through his fingers like sand with every brush of Phil's wings against him. 

"It's alright, Tommy. It's natural. It's perfectly healthy." Tommy curled his upper lip.

"I don't care! This can't be normal! Why am I- why do I- you're just-" He growled wordlessly. Tommy squirmed, aiming to get away from Phil but his body betrayed him by burrowing closer to the man.

"Well, normally this is something that happens a few days after your wings come in. Not a few weeks." Phil sighed, pulling Tommy impossibly closer. "Your instincts are going to be a little out of whack for a bit, mate. Contact will help." A squeeze to emphasize his words.

"I didn't even want to imprint!" He shouted. It sounded more like a wail. Something in his chest ached and he twittered out a bundle of distressed chirps. Phil made a pained noise, like the sound of the chirps hurt him.

"Ok, this seems like a you thing. I'll just-"

"No, no. Tech, come here, please." Tommy lifted his head and gave Phil a betrayed look. 

"What?!"

"Phil, I don't think-"

"Trust me, this is better. The imprint is still new, so you're more likely to accept Techno as well. Any later, you'll instinctively start registering him as a threat until it settles. Might as well get this out of the way now." 

Tommy really started struggling. For once, the baby bird seemed to agree he needed to get away. But it was less to get away from Phil and more due to the approaching piglin hybrid.

It was quiet for a few seconds, other than the sounds of Tommy's half hearted struggling and Phil trying to calm him. Then, there was the shifting of blankets as Technoblade settled in front of Phil.

Tommy's back was to the hybrid and he scooted deeper into Phil's hold, the panic inside him threatening to overwhelm him once more.

As Tommy lay in Phil's arms, distressed peeping falling out of him without his permission, it occurred to him he had never experienced such terror just by Technoblade's mere presence before. 

Just the same as how he had never found Phil's touch so comforting. 

"It's alright, mate. Just don't touch his wings, yet." Tommy didn't like the yet in that statement.

Well, he didn't like any part of Phil's statement, really.

Technoblade sighed, like this whole thing was just an inconvenience for him. Then, there was a hand in Tommy's hair.

"No-" was all Tommy managed to get out before the rest of his complaint was suffocated under a series of chirps. Phil's arms were like steel bands around him but what would have once made Tommy struggle more, just felt reassuring now. 

He hated it.

He thrashed his head. Taking advantage of how the bird inside him was in agreement to get Technoblade away. 

Wrong-wrong-wrong-help-need-safe-need-need-help. It was a mantra pounding in his brain. Phil's soothing chirps barely managing to calm Tommy at all.

The hand didn't leave his hair. Technoblade had even begun to gently run his fingers through the tangled knots. It only felt nice as a purely physical sensation. Everything else inside Tommy absolutely loathed the touch.

It was too much. His brain was screaming in terror, begging for help-begging for Phil, and the man was right there!- and it couldn't get away. He didn't want to get away but he did . He didn't know. Tommy didn't know.

He couldn't fight the sob that worked its way out of him even if he wanted to. 

"Oh, nestling. I know, I know. I'm so sorry." Phil whispered. His wings lifted to cage Tommy in. Though, the unnatural heat at his back told him that Phil had included Techno in the huddle.

Admittedly, it did help a little bit. Something about Phil's wings soothed the bird brain in a way Tommy couldn't explain. 

He kept crying, though. Tommy wasn't sure why. They were just touching him, not even hurting him. But still, sobs bubbled out in between fearful chirps.

"Phil, I don't think this is working. I'm just freakin' him out."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Finally , the hand left Tommy's hair. He had a moment of pure relief as he slumped in Phil's hold.

"Here, you should take him."

"Wait, what-"

From the sound of it, Techno was just as shocked at this turn of events as Tommy was. Neither had time to react before the avian was dumped in the piglin's lap.

It was quiet.

Tommy screeched. A sound he had never made before, that was more bird than human. He immediately tried to throw himself out of Technoblade's lap but Techno stopped him easily. He held the thrashing teen even as he protested, having to shout to be heard over Tommy's screeches.

"Phil! Phil, I love you but right now, I really hate you-!"

Why are you holding me if you don't want to?! Just fucking let go! Tommy wanted to scream but his voice had failed him. All he could manage to vocalize was furious chirps and screeches.

Phil-Phil-Wrong-Wrong his bird brain chanted and he agreed with half the statement. 

Techno pulled him tighter and buried his face into Tommy's hair.

"I know, Theseus. Trust me, I get it." Tommy only heard him because Technoade was speaking so close to Tommy's ear. 

Tommy did not agree with Technoblade's statement. There was no possible way the man understood the unnatural terror his brain was pouring into him. He couldn't say this though, so he elected to show his thoughts in another way.

"Ow." Techno grunted. "Really? With the biting again?" He adjusted Tommy and for a split second the teen was sure he was being released. But he was just moved so the side of his head pressed into Techno's chest.

 "Close your eyes. Just close your eyes, okay?" 

Like this, Tommy could hear the steady thumping of Techno's heartbeat. It wasn't any better but at least it was something to focus on. He closed his eyes.

The hand holding his head gently scratched through his hair. Tommy wasn't sure why, but the darkness of his closed lids soothed in a way it never had before.

 Blind to the world, all Tommy knew was Technoblade's heartbeat, his steady hold and the gentle petting. He wasn't screeching anymore but he still hiccuped out chirps here and there. 

Techno sighed. "There we go, Theseus." The rumble of Techno's voice vibrated through Tommy. He chirped again. This time, though, Technoblade responded with an odd noise. It was like a grunt but deeper. Some odd mashup with a pig snort. 

It didn't sound angry, at least. And right now, Tommy would take what he could get. He didn't exactly enjoy being in a constant state of panic. So clinging to the borderline-calming sounds Technoblade made was better than nothing. 

The arm wrapped around him loosened, which helped with the panic as well. Techno continued to run his fingers through Tommy's hair. His other hand moved to the space between Tommy's wings. He tensed again, thinking the man was going to grab them but Technoblade just rubbed circles between the wing joints. It soothed an ache Tommy hadn't even realized he had. His wings drooped, relaxing under the gentle touch.

"I think he might be good." Tommy opened his eyes. He had almost forgotten Phil was still here. The man could be eerily silent when he wanted to be. Right now, he was giving Tommy a soft smile that was rapidly becoming familiar to the teen. 

"Bitch. You look stupid." 

Phil laughed. Tommy realized he had actually managed to say what he was thinking. He wasn't chirping like his life depended on it anymore.

"Here, I can take him-" Phil, still chuckling, reached forward. He stopped short at the noise Technoblade made.

Tommy realized it was a growl at the same moment Technoblade stopped.

"Sorry. Take him." Technoblade made no move to release Tommy.

Phil didn't look upset, though. He actually seemed a little amused. "You sure, mate?"

"...shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Phil laughed.

"Oi! I'm not a fuckin' lapdog. How about neither of you bitches touch me and you go jump off a cliff."

"I can fly, mate."

"Well, that's why I said jump , Philza. Did I mention your wings? Poor old man, hearing is fading out-"

"Oi-!" 

"Kid's got a point, Phil. He did say he wanted us to jump. Not fly."

"Alright, alright. I get it. Bully the eldest. C'mere." Phil moved closer sitting in front of Technoblade. Tommy was squished between the two and immediately quieted. Yet, it wasn't a fearful silence. All he could focus on was the two hybrids caging him in.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" 

"Of course not, my dear. How could I?" 

Technoblade snorted. "Sure, Phil."

"Oh, hush. Nestlings need contact. Especially newly imprinted ones." 

Technoblade just hummed. 

"Just lay down, already." Phil tried to sound stern but there was laughter in his voice.

Tommy was barely listening to the conversation. He felt adrift. Floating happily in the warm buzz.

Safe-safe-warm-happy. The bird crooned. It didn't really make sense but Tommy would like to agree. He wanted that to be true so badly and if his bird brain - which had been nothing but panic and stress since he first gained his wings - decided things were okay, maybe they were.

Then the mantra stopped. NO! His brain screeched. 

Tommy squirmed, chirping loudly and reaching for….for something. Something. What did he need? Something was wrong!

Come-back-need-safe-need-need . Fuck what was it?! Where did it go?!

"Shh, shh. I'm here. Dad's here." As abruptly as it started, the panic stopped. 

"You weren't kidding."

"I know. It's...not usually this intense. I think it might be the late imprint." There was a sigh and Tommy whined. Upset-wrong-bad?  

A coo. Safe-safe-good.

Tommy relaxed. Okay. He was safe. It was good.

A low rumbling under Tommy started, vibrating him slightly. He twittered instinctively and the rumbling grew louder. 

The light was blocked out and Tommy opened his eyes just enough to see black feathers. They slid over his own wings and the bird inside him twirled in happiness.

A softer coo. Relax-safe-sleep-rest.

Tommy relaxed. He was safe so he should rest.

Tommy slept.

Chapter Text

"Having fun?"

"Die."

"Mate-"

"Die."

"Pretty sure that's the only word he knows."

"... Perish."

"Ah, he's expanding vocabulary. Phil! He's learning!"

" Die."

"Oh, he regressed. Spoke too soon."

"Stop antagonizing him."

Tommy growled at the same time Phil spoke. He sat on the couch, arms crossed and resolutely ignoring any and all attempts to engage with him. 

Waking up from his nap, Tommy was much more clear headed. It didn't take him long to realize he had been tricked, bamboozled, brainwashed, whatever you wanted to call it. Phil had never mentioned how mind-numbing imprinting was. He hadn't really mentioned anything about what imprinting was, and Tommy now understood why.

The fit he threw was unstoppable and uncontrollable. It was further fueled by his bird brain, which had sky-rocketed in neediness. It ached for him to throw himself into Phil's arms and let the man coo and chirp his problems away. Which was precisely why Tommy did nothing of the sort. 

He ignored all attempts to reason with him. He refused to listen to any more of their lies. He had fucking cuddled with the Blade. There was no possible explanation for that other than Phil had done something to him.

It was terrifying. 

Eventually, Phil had offered for them all to move downstairs and it was enough of a shock for Tommy to pause. They had never offered that before. As much as Tommy had wanted to spit in the man's face and tell him to fuck off - and also crawl into his arms. Safe and tucked away by black wings. - he couldn't turn down the opportunity. The more freedom they allowed him, the better chances of escape.

Tommy never said he would actually engage with them, though.

"You sure you don't want something to do? Or I could get you something to eat?"

Any questions or conversation starters were met with the same response. Tommy would have to give them credit, though. These fuckers were almost as stubborn as Tommy was.

"Die."

Almost.

Phil sighed and went back into the kitchen. Technoblade continued to write in his book, feet kicked up on the coffee table. Tommy glanced between the hybrid and the kitchen entrance, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from either being.

When none came he went back to taking in his surroundings, trying to memorize the layout and the objects littered about. It was cluttered in a way that screamed Technoblade's touch. The hybrid was always a bit of a hoarder and retirement apparently hadn't changed that. 

This could potentially work to Tommy's advantage, he realized. There must be something here that Tommy could use. Nothing immediately caught his eye but there were chests everywhere and things piled on top of each other. If he could just poke around…

He glanced over at Technoblade again. The hybrid was ignoring him. A stab of irritation pierced Tommy. Well, if Tommy was really such a nuisance, then he'd just make himself scarce-

"What are you doing?" Tommy froze. He barely stood off the couch before Technoblade spoke, pinning the teenager to the spot with his stare.

"What? Can't a man stretch his legs every now and then? Not all of us want to just sit on our asses. I got big man shit to do. You should be grateful I'm offering to-to, um, to fuckin- stroll around such an ugly home! Yeah! Look at this place-"

"Gods, enough. Fine, whatever. Just do not leave the room." Technoblade rubbed his eyes and went back to reading.

The dismissal caused Tommy to wilt for a moment. Then, he remembered this is what he wanted and he hurried away from the couch before Technoblade changed his mind. 

He barely made it two steps.

"Ah-ah!" Tommy stopped with a groan. Turning around, he saw Technoblade pointing at the blanket Tommy had left on the couch.

"Are you fucking serious?" 

"What do you think?"

Tommy glared at Technoblade, who had yet to even look up from his book. Eventually, the older hybrid raised his gaze toward the younger.

"Do you really want me to get up and grab it myself?" There was a promise in that tone. 

The bird inside him shied away from the warning, and Tommy cleared his throat to avoid a chirp. He walked back to the couch and picked up the blanket.

As humiliating as it was, this was familiar. Finally, they were making sense. Maybe Technoblade and Phil were keeping him around as a servant or something. Tommy didn't understand how this bird hierarchy shit worked. 

He carried the blanket to Techno, stopping in front of the man and glaring. Technoblade looked up, raising a brow.

"What?"

Tommy sputtered. "Fuck you mean 'what?' You fucking made me bring you this shit!" He shook the blanket. 

Technoblade stared for a moment. Then, he laughed.

"Wait-wait. You thought- and you actually did it? Prime, that is too good." Technoblade's laugh was oddly croaky but no less humiliating when Tommy realized he had been tricked.

"Fuck you! You're such a dickhead!" He chucked the blanket at the piglin hybrid's head and stormed off. Or, at least, he tried to. Technoblade was pulling him back before he got the chance. 

He was yanked by the arm into the man's lap. The action was shocking enough, Tommy didn't have the chance to stifle the fearful chirps he let out.

Technoblade gave him a squeeze, rumbling low and soothing for just a moment. He wrapped the blanket around Tommy's shoulders. 

"The blanket was for you , idiot. Keep it with you." 

When Tommy struggled, he was released almost immediately. He flipped Technoblade off, giving him the most lethal stare he could manage. The blanket that was now wrapped around his shoulders probably diminished the effectiveness of the action. But, well, he was kind of cold.

"My fuckin' blanket now bitch. Good luck ever getting it back, then." He hissed under his breath.

If Technoblade heard him, he gave no response. Tommy took that as a sign that he had won this argument. Obviously.

He focused on putting as much distance as he could between him and Technoblade. Which meant he ended up on the far side of the room, closer to the fireplace and the bookshelves near it. He gave the other hybrid one last glance. Techno had gone back to his book like the last interaction never occurred.

Asshole.

Whatever, if Technoblade was too busy with his book, then Tommy was going to touch everything . Teach the man to pay better attention to his surroundings.

He immediately dismissed the books. None of these ones had the familiar glow of an enchantment so they would be useless for him. There were a few bits and bobs placed on the shelves. Still most of it seemed to be junk. Chunks of lapis, a compass, loose paper. For someone so rich, Tommy thought he'd have better loot.

He walked slowly, trailing his fingers along the book spines as he went. The heat of the fireplace grew stronger as he passed, warming his legs. He stopped in front of it and observed the mantle.

It was mostly bare, except for a few photographs. Phil and Technoblade were in most of them, though Tommy didn't recognize the outfits they were wearing or the people they were with. 

Except for the last photo.

Tommy couldn't help but touch the picture. Wilbur looked so young. So happy. He stood in the middle of the two hybrids, caught in the middle of a laugh. Phil was laughing along with him. Tommy couldn't see Technoblade's face, still covered by the mask even then.

It was a useless photo. It wasn't going to help him escape. It was useless . It didn't matter that Tommy had lost the only photo he had left of the man when Technoblade kidnapped him. It didn't matter he hadn't seen Ghostbur in over a month. It didn't matter he had nothing left of Wilbur now.

His fingers twitched, curling around the photo. Tommy glanced behind him.

He ripped his hand away from the picture, stepping away from the fireplace. Technoblade didn't say anything, emotions unreadable as ever under the mask.

"Y'know," the hybrid spoke slowly, pointedly. "We have a few of those. Pretty sure Phil has a ton of copies of that one, specifically." 

Anger burned away the tiny bit of hurt Tommy felt at the brag.

"Congratu-fucking-lations, dickhead. Want a fucking medal or something?" He snarled, storming to the other wall he hadn't explored yet. He could still feel Technoblade's gaze boring into him but Tommy didn't look. Let the fucker get a taste of his own medicine.

Technoblade didn't say anything else and Tommy was too stubborn to check if he had gone back to his book. He forced himself to focus on the new shelf.

More books. Fucking hell, were these people librarians in a past life? Tommy doesn't bother checking it any further, he leaves the shelf and heads toward the nearby window. 

The view is bland, a blanket of snow stretching far off into the distance. Only broken by distant hills and trees. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass. 

The crackle of fire and intermittent page turns from Technoblade were the only sounds Tommy could hear. He stared at the tundra and felt warm. Eventually, his own breaths fogged up the glass, denying Tommy even the sight of freedom.

He closed his eyes. 

Thud!

Tommy jumped back. What the fuck?! Something had just rattled the window he was at! He had no time to investigate. Technoblade was suddenly in front of him, facing the window.

Wait. Where did Techno get the sword from?

"Tommy, go to Phil." 

Tommy sputtered. Like hell was he going to scurry away like some pet! Technoblade must have realized this because he switched tactics, calling for Phil instead.

The avian was in the doorway, in an instant. He only needed a second to process the atmosphere before he was beside the two, pulling Tommy away.

"Upstairs. That's enough excitement."

"What?! What the- no! I barely-"

Technoblade growled. "Get him out of here-"

The argument was cut short by a knocking sound.

There was a muffled squawk.

Phil froze, and then slumped. "Oh for Prime's sake."

He releases Tommy and steps forward, opening the window with a harsh yank.

The cold rushes in along with something else.

"What do you think you're doing?" Phil asked the crow, arms crossed. 

The crow squawked again and Phil pinched the bridge of his nose.

"There are so many different ways you could have done that. You scared the shit out of us." 

Tommy stared as Phil seemingly had an argument with a bird. He swivels his head to stare at Technoblade instead.

"He does that. No idea if it's an avian thing or a him thing. Can you understand them?" 

Tommy blinked. Then blinked again.

"No Technoblade. I do not understand what the crow is saying." He spoke slowly, like he was speaking to a child. Yes, Tommy talks to animals. But not like this. Phil spoke like there was a genuine conversation going on. Like the crow was speaking actual words.

Technoblade just nodded, accepting this.

"Must be a Phil thing."

"Crazy people. I'm being held captive by crazy people." Tommy whispered to himself.

"Alright, alright! Fine, where's the other two of your terrible trio?" Phil threw his arms up in the air, drawing Tommy's attention back to the very odd interaction occurring. 

The crow hopped in a half circle, facing back out the window. It let out a loud caw. There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the flapping of wings grew louder and two more crows appeared on the windowsill.

"Ah. Wonderful." Phil sighed then gestured behind him. "Well, hurry up. You're letting the cold in."

Technoblade finally spoke up. "Woah, wait. Phil, you are not seriously letting your birds run around my house-"

"Techno, do not start. You have an enderman in the other room right this second." 

"Edward is my roommate! How could you talk about him like that? Really insensitive, Phil-"

"Besides," Phil spoke over the other man, "they missed Tommy." Phil then turned to the teenager in question with a smile.

"Wh- me? Why would they-?" Tommy glanced between the crows and Phil. Then, something sparked in his memory.

"Wait...wait- is that- are they-?" He stared at the three crows who looked back silently. 

"Lizzie?" He whispered.

The center crow squawked happily.

"Holy shit! It's- what the fuck!" Tommy laughed, rushing towards the murder. He ignored Phil's complaints to let him close the window first, too busy reuniting with the three birds.

"That's so- wait, you were fucking spying on me!" The excitement drained away as the situation dawned on Tommy.

Lizzie looked unrepentant but the other two had the decency to duck their heads down in shame. Or, maybe they were nodding. Eh, Tommy was going to go with the former.

"For shame! What the fuck?! Big men before creepy, bird men bitches!" Tommy continued to shout at the crows as all of them were ushered away from the window so Technoblade could shut it.

He ended up back on the couch with the three scattered around him. All three were listening attentively as he chewed them out for snitching on him to Philza.

"Seriously, you think you know a bird and then they do this shit. No fuckin' loyalty."

"Technically, they were being loyal. To me." Tommy flipped the man off without looking. Phil just chuckled. 

"Well, they should know better than to give their loyalty to some senile- hey! Stop fucking doing that!" Tommy ducked away, twisting to glare behind him at Phil. The man had walked around the back of the couch and was now looking down at Tommy with a familiar soft expression.

"I'm not doing anything." Phil hummed.

"Yes you are! You literally just did!"

"What did I do?"

"You…" Tommy's cheeks reddened. It was one thing for Phil to do it, but to acknowledge it? To literally say ‘You kissed the top of my head.’ felt too humiliating to voice.

"You know!" He settled for instead.

"Hm… not sure I do…" Phil rounded the couch at a leisurely pace. Tommy twisted around to keep Phil in his sight, not enjoying whatever game the older avian was playing. He leaned away but there was nowhere to go. Still, Tommy did his best to keep his distance from the man when Phil stopped again. Now standing in front of Tommy rather than behind.

"Oh! Was it this?" Phil swooped in quickly, before Tommy could protest. He cupped Tommy's face and layed another kiss to the boy's hair. 

"Yes! Stop doing that shit!" Tommy shoved at Phil and the man drew back, nodding seriously. Tommy didn't trust it one bit. Especially with that teasing glint in the man's eyes.

"Of course." With that, Phil leaned back in and peppered small kisses on Tommy's face, the boy shouting all the while. He couldn't pull away with the couch behind him and Phil in front but he made it very clear what he thought of this action. It wasn't helping that the bird in his brain was practically dancing from the attention. 

Phil-Phil-love-love.

"I hate you so much." He hissed.

"You said not to kiss your hair. I'm not doing that." Phil hummed.

Tommy squirmed, fighting both Phil, and his brain's urge to just sink into the man's arms and never leave. He glanced around, looking to see if Technoblade was still in the room. Though, he wasn't sure himself if he actually wanted the piglin hybrid there. One one hand, Technoblade could get Phil to back off. On the other hand, he really didn't want any witnesses to the humiliating display.

Fortunately - or unfortunately, Tommy still wasn't sure - Technoblade was nowhere to be seen. Tommy's best guess was the man had taken over kitchen duty when Phil let the crows in.

Speaking of the crows, the flock was still watching Tommy quietly. It gave him an idea. Probably a stupid one, but he didn't really have a lot of options.

As Phil slowly turned into an octopus clinging to Tommy, the teenager flung a hand out to the birds, trying to look desperate and pleading.

They stared for a moment, unmoving. Tommy's hope died and he resolved himself to suffocate under Philza's affection. He closed his eyes. At least Phil wasn't hitting him.

Phil yelped.

Tommy's eyes snapped open as Phil finally drew back. The older avian turned to glare at the crow who had snuck onto the couch without them knowing. 

"Oi! What is your problem?" 

Barbs - sweet, amazing Barbs - just darted forward and pecked Phil's side again. 

"You little-!" Phil drew away from Tommy to swipe at the crow. It was a bluff that Barbs called him on. She didn't move and just nipped at the hand.

Tommy laughed, ecstatic. "Yes! You're my new favorite Barbara!"

The crows must have understood this because Barbs puffed up with pride. 

Meanwhile, the other two glanced at each other and decided there was no way they were going to let Barbara be the new favorite.

"Ah! Stop it! I will chuck you back outside!" While Phil tried to protect his face from the playful onslaught of birds, Tommy slipped away.

There was something he needed to check, and with Technoblade out of the room and Phil distracted, this would be the perfect opportunity.

Tommy darted back over to the windowed wall the crows had entered from. He glanced back, making sure Phil was still distracted before opening one of the chests on the floor.

It was one thing to look at things on display but to snoop through a chest? Yeah, sure, they'd definitely be okay with that.

He made sure to only open the chest a small crack to avoid the creek. Tommy peaked in, praying there would be something useful-

Thank you BLiP Trio . 

Tommy snatched the item and closed the chest. It wasn't what he'd hoped he would find, but it was better than nothing.

Yet, a new problem revealed itself. Tommy had nowhere to stash his loot. It was too large for his pockets. Fuck, why did he grab it? He should have just noted where it was and nicked it later! 

Just as he decided to slip it back into the chest, his luck ran out.

"Tommy? What are you doing?" 

Tommy stared at the chest, too terrified to meet Phil's gaze. He could hear the footsteps as Phil drew closer. Time seemed to slow. For every footstep, an hour passed by. Tommy was trapped staring at this stupid chest, clutching his new possession to himself.

His wings fluffed up, under the blanket and Tommy hunched over his item. Why did he grab it now?! It was such a stupid action! He hadn't even thought about it. He had just seen the sparkle and… and…

And it was for nothing. Because Phil was going to see what Tommy did and he was going to rip Tommy apart. And Tommy would deserve it. Because he was a selfish, horrible person who just didn't know how to listen . Why couldn't he just listen.

He deserved this. He deserved to be hurt and have his things taken and blown up in front of him. He deserved to be alone because everyone else could tell what a horrible leech he was. They were just protecting themselves. 

Scared-help-alone

Here-here-safe-safe

Tommy gasped, inhaling a much needed breath. His lungs burned. Had he been holding his breath the whole time? 

"It's okay. Shh, it's alright. C'mon mate, try to follow my breathing." Tommy could feel Phil's chest inflating behind him and Tommy struggled to match it. It was difficult, he kept wheezing out chirps in between breaths.

"You're doing good. Keep it up. Just like that." Phil reassured Tommy, his large wings caging the teenager in just as much as his arms were. Tommy realized he was on the man's lap, his back to Phil's chest. He hadn't even felt them move.

Even when Tommy managed to take full breaths, Phil didn't release him. "Good?" He asked.

Tommy nodded, because he didn't trust himself to speak right now. He felt dizzy and shaky.

"Alright. I think maybe we'll have dinner in the nest today." Tommy almost whined at that. He was so tired of that stupid room but he really did feel like shit and oddly enough, the blankets and pillows and soft lighting of the nest sounded very appealing to him at the moment.

"I'll just let Technoblade know and- oh, what have you got there?"

Tommy didn't know what Phil was talking about. He didn't have-

Oh, fuck. Right.

Phil must have seen it over Tommy's shoulder. His hands tightened instinctively around the item, even though he knew there was no way he would be able to keep it. It wasn't even really his to keep, anyway.

"It's mine." He said and then bit his own tongue. What the fuck? Why did he say that?! "I-I mean-"

"Oh! Alright! Do you want to take it to your nest?"

What?

"What?"

"Is there anything else you'd like?" 

Tommy finally twisted around in Phil's arms to meet the man's gaze. He looked weirdly excited and Tommy searched for any hint of mockery or falsehood in his expression. He didn't find any but Tommy still didn't trust it.

"What do you want for it?" He demanded. There must be some unspoken trade. Tommy gets his item and Phil gets something much worse.

But Phil just looked confused, the excitement dimming from his eyes.

"Nothing. It's yours." Phil glanced down, his smile becoming teasing. "You and Techno have similar tastes, it seems."

"What's mine?"

Speak of the swine. Technoblade stood in the doorway, holding a wooden spoon. As always, his mask prevented Tommy from seeing his expression. He couldn't tell what Technoblade thought about their new position in front of his chests, cuddled together. The piglin hybrid didn't acknowledge it either. He had something to ask about.

"Why does he have one of my gapples?"

"His gapple. He's taking it to the nest." Phil sounded… proud? What? Was he pissed at Technoblade or something? Was he trying to get back at the other through Tommy? Letting the teenager steal his things.

"It's fine. Don't need it." Despite his words, Tommy did not release the golden apple. He stared at the sparkling fruit and willed his fingers to uncurl. They stubbornly refused.

"Toms, if you want it, then it's yours."

"I don't. S'not mine. It's Techno's. I was just being greedy." 

Put it down , he told himself. Put it down before they get angry. Before they take more things away.

There was a pause and Tommy focused all his energy on releasing the fruit. He was finally getting his fingers to cooperate when Technoblade sighed.

"Eh, I've got a bunch. I can spare a gapple. Probably wouldn't even miss it, if I hadn't known." He sounded dismissive, like it didn't bother him one way or the other.

Tommy looked up, feeling strangely hopeful. Technoblade had already returned to the kitchen and Phil was giving him that soft smile again.

"Why? I don't- what do you want for it? You want something." Phil's smile stayed but there was something sad in it now. Why he was sad, of all things, Tommy had no clue. 

"Tommy. I'm going to tell you what's going to happen, alright?" Fuck, he was right. Phil did want something. 

"I'm going to take you upstairs and you're going to decide where in your nest you'd like to place your stash. And then, we'll see how you're feeling and you can choose if you'd like dinner in the nest or back downstairs. That's it. Nothing else. That's all I want and that's all that will happen."

Tommy didn't believe Phil. He wasn't sure why Phil was lying but it was apparently something really bad if he didn't want to tell Tommy right away. He should just give the golden apple back and say forget it. He could always try to sneak something later after better planning. 

But…

Phil said he wasn't lying, and as idiotic as it was, Tommy wanted to believe he was telling the truth. It sounded so appealing. The idea that Phil would just give him the gapple without a fight. He wanted it so badly.

His fingers tightened back over the fruit.

"It's… mine." He stated hesitantly. Phil just nodded. Tommy repeated it with more confidence.

"It's mine." It's mine.

Mine-mine-mine-nice-shiny-mine

"Yours." Phil said with his ever present smile.

"It's mine. I'm- it's mine." He tucked the gapple to his chest. Daring quietly for Phil to change his mind. To try and take Tommy's thing. Tommy found it and he liked it and it was his and he wanted it.

"Yes, nestling. It's yours." Phil laughed and then shifted. He stood, Tommy still in his arms.

"How about we go put it in your nest, hm?" 

Tommy blinked slowly, trying to process what Phil was saying. "Nest?"

Safe-safe-shiny-mine-warm

Right! His nest! The pillows and the blankets and the warmth. It sounded safe and perfect for his new thing. He nodded quickly and Phil laughed. Though, this laugh sounded more like a trill. It caused Tommy to perk up and instinctively trill back. Phil made a happy sound in response and kissed the top of Tommy's head.

Tommy was too enamored with his new thing to care. It was his. He loved it.

"Mine." 

"Yes, little one. It's yours. Do you want to stash it now?" 

Tommy blinked and looked around. Oh. They were in his nest. Suddenly his gapple felt too exposed. It was his but someone might try to steal it. He squirmed and Phil released him immediately.

Tommy darted around, not even sure what he was looking for except that he knew he needed to hide his new thing. There were a few attempts that he deemed unsatisfactory. He wasn't sure why. He just knew it wasn't right.

Finally, he found the perfect spot. His gapple was hidden away, safe in his nest. Tommy trilled a happy noise.

The response from Phil surprised Tommy. He had honestly kind of forgotten the man was in here. Phil chirped again and Tommy moved without thinking, curling back into Phil's arms.

Phil rubbed his back and Tommy sighed. He felt so good. There was a buzzing under his skin but it wasn't of an anxious sort. The bird inside him was practically singing with happiness and Tommy found himself agreeing. Even sinking into the joy himself.

Phil pulled him tighter and cooed. Tommy chirped back.

"Mine." Phil whispered.

Chapter Text

"Soft."

"So cute."

"Softnoblade."

"E."

"Ours. He's ours. Keep him with us."

"Pack is safe. They're both safe."

"Which fruit, Techno?"

"Raspberry!"

"No! Blueberry!"

"Screw that! Get chocolate chips!"

"No! Put carrots!"

"Carrots aren't a fruit, you nasty."

"Bananas. Thanks." Technoblade ignored the equal amounts of cheers and groans from the voices. Phil hummed in acknowledgement.

"Tommy?"

"...whatever you got."

"Sure you don't have a preference?"

" Runt likes blueberries."

"Nah, I'm good-"

"We got any blueberries, Phil?" Technoblade looked up from his journal. Phil looked through the fridge for a moment.

"Ah, yup! Have some right here." 

"Alright. Blueberries for the gremlin then." Technoblade ignored the sputtered shouts from Tommy as well as his insults. Phil took the suggestion in stride, rinsing off a handful of the berries and dropping them into ths batter as they cooked.

Tommy huffed and slumped over the kitchen table, burying his face into the blanket wrapped around him. The voices cooed at the sight and started talking over one another, rambling over how "soft" Tommy looked.

It had been about a month since they had brought the kid home, and things were going surprisingly well. So far Tommy hadn't tried to escape, but Technoblade knew it was more due to a lack of supplies than any real want to stay here. The kid was stubborn, Technoblade would give him that. It would take a while before he realized staying with them was for the best. 

"Sit up, mate. Here's your breakfast." Phil placed the stack of pancakes in front of Tommy and Chat went ballistic. Shouts of feeding the baby himself and insisting the food was too much and would make Tommy sick. While other voices shouted that there wasn't enough food.

"Wow, feed the kid before your dear friend. I see how it is, Phil." Technoblade said, doing his best to ignore Chat.

"What can I say? Tommy is more adorable." Phil ran a hand through the boy's hair, laughing while Tommy jerked away.

"Fuck you! I'm not adorable! I'm a big man! A scary, intimidating big man." 

"Of course. Eat your pancakes." Phil went back to the stove and poured another scoop of batter onto the pan. The sizzle and smell of the pancakes was obviously getting to Tommy. Technoblade could hear his stomach rumble from the otherside of the table. He didn't comment, though. 

Technoblade had noticed small things since Tommy had moved in. He didn't like anyone touching his wings, and he behaved strangely when it came to food. Technoblade had observed the pitiful stash of rotting garbage when he went to Logsteadshire. If that hadn't been an already dead giveaway for how disillusioned Tommy's relationship with food was, his behavior since then definitely was. 

It wasn't instincts either. Well, at least not entirely.  Technoblade wasn't an avian but he and Phil had known each other a very long time. They had shared many things about themselves, including their hybrid traits. They were pack (or flock, in Phil's opinion). There were no secrets between them. 

Now, Technoblade's pack had grown from two, to three. 

Not that Tommy had seemed to realize it. Technoblade noticed how the boy observed them. Like he was trying to puzzle out their intentions. Like he was waiting for the trick, for the hurt. It caused both Chat and Technoblade's instincts to go berserk, but the piglin hybrid did his best to reign them in. He didn't want to freak the kid out too bad.

It was one thing for Phil to be all over his new nestling, but Technoblade was sure if he joined in the coddling, Tommy would truly panic. 

Phil carried two more plates to the table, placing one stack in front of Technoblade and sitting down with the other. Technoblade gave a chuff of thanks and Phil's wings twitched an acknowledgement. 

Breakfast at the kitchen table was a relatively new addition to their routine. Phil had been going slow with taking Tommy out of the nest. 

He had explained to Technoblade that Tommy's late imprint could affect his behavior in ways not even Phil was sure of. Leaving him in the nest too long could make him too terrified to ever leave. Which, wouldn't be ideal for Tommy's mental health. But forcing him to leave the nest when his instincts didn't want to could cause a shock to the teenager's system and Tommy might shut down. 

The balance was a careful one and they both agreed to be extra vigilant for any changes to Tommy's behavior. 

Technoblade watched as Phil watched Tommy eat his pancakes, and debated if they should revisit that conversation. It seemed like the imprint wasn't only affecting Tommy. 

Phil had been much more impulsive with his physical affection lately. Not that Technoblade could blame him. Technoblade had only lasted this long due to a near constant mental reminder Tommy would definitely run if Technoblade tried to cuddle him like Phil does. 

It was odd. Most of it could probably be blamed on the newly manifested hybrid instincts, but Tommy's behavior was unfamiliar to the Tommy Technoblade remembered from Pogtopia. Even in that ravine, with the threat of L'manburg weighing down on the boy, he seemed more weary than panicked.

The one sitting across from Technoblade, inhaling his pancakes at a speed that was concerning, behaved so different from that boy Technoblade knew. 

"Y'know, I don't think Tommy liked the pancakes. He's barely touched them." Technoblade drawled, nodding to the demolished stack.

"They're disgusting. I hate them." Tommy shot back almost immediately. He then shoved another slice into his mouth.

"Toms, I can get you more. Maybe slow down? I don't want you to choke." Phil gave a small laugh. To the untrained eye, Phil's words were a simple funny addition to the conversation. But Technoblade saw the nervous twitch of his feathers, the slight strain of his smile. He was genuinely worried Tommy would be sick over how fast he was eating.

Technoblade saw the way Tommy's eyes narrowed and cut in quickly.

"Nah. Kid doesn't know how to do anything slow. He rushes into everything head on."

"I do not! I-"

"Prove it."

Tommy stared, realizing he had been tricked. His competitiveness had been sparked. He narrowed his eyes.

"Or don't. I don't care." Technoblade pointedly took a bite of his own pancakes.

"Yuck. Banana."

"Yum. Banana."

"Minion voice: banana."

"LOL."

Tommy huffed but did slow down with his meal. Phil relaxed too and the potential conflict had been averted.

"Did you want to do anything specific today?" Phil asked. Technoblade held back a wince. There was only one way Tommy was going to answer that and it was-

"Yeah. Leave. "

Phil sighed.

"Mate-"

"Don't fucking start. If the answer isn't 'of course big man! I was so wrong and ugly for trapping you here. Here's all my money goodbye forever!' I don't want to hear shit." Tommy dropped the fork onto his plate with a clatter. He crossed his arms and glared down at the table.

There was an awkward pause. Phil's gaze slid over to Technoblade. He twitched his ear in response and continued to sneak bites of pancakes under his mask.

Phil got the message and sighed, but said nothing else. The meal was finished in silence.

"Go check on your terrible trio. Make sure they aren't tearing up my couch cushions or something." Technoblade waved a hand towards Tommy who immediately snatched up the escape.

"I'll help them fucking do it." He muttered as he fled the table. 

"I'll hear if that door opens." He called out, seeing the way Tommy hunched. Dumb kid. Definitely would have gotten frostbite. Technoblade needed to make this quick.

"Phil." He kept his voice low. Chances of Tommy listening were slim. The kid was probably more focused on an escape plan than eavesdropping, but Technoblade didn't want to take any chances.

Phil looked tense, any moment he was about to chase after his nestling. Another reason Technoblade needed to speak fast.

"You know you-"

"I know. I-" Phil exhaled harshly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, Tech. But he's imprinted. I don't understand why he's still-"

"Phil, you explained it to me. You know why he's still fighting." Technoblade couldn't help the smile curving at the corner of his lips.

"Because he's still Tommy."

" Exactly. We'll figure out what's been eating at him and we can move on from th-"

There was a knock at the door.

Now, normally Technoblade would assume it was another one of Phil's crows. But none of them were heavy enough to knock that loud.

Phil realized this much faster than Technoblade did. Or maybe he wasn't even thinking. It was more likely the avian had rushed out at the first hint a stranger was near his nestling. - and was already out of the kitchen.

By the time Technoblade had joined them, he was smothering Tommy on the couch. His eyes were wide open and his pupils slimmed down to tiny dots. Phil was completely still, even while his wings mantled around his nestling, everything about him was focused on the door.

Technoblade chuffed softly, drawing his pack mate's attention.

"Upstairs." He whispered.

Phil stared blankly for a moment and Technoblade was worried Phil had fallen too far into his instincts and did not understand common anymore.

Thankfully, Phil seemed to shake himself out of it and nodded. In one motion, Tommy was in his arms and they were heading upstairs. 

As they passed, Technoblade managed to catch a glimpse of the teenager. Tommy was frozen stiff, his lips were parted as he panted out shallow breaths.

"Runt scared."

"Kill the trespasser!"

"They're threatening our pack!"

"Technoprotect! Technoprotect!"

"Technoprotect! Blood for the Blood God!"

"Blood for the Blood God!"

"Blood for-"

"Blood-"

"Technoprotect! Techno-

"E. E. E. E-"

"-the Blood God!"

"-for the Blood God!"

"BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD-"

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

The stranger knocked on the door again. 

"Techno? You home? It's just me." 

Technoblade's axe was in his hand without him remembering grabbing it. Chat began to scream. Half excited and the other furious. He approached the door slowly, giving Phil time to enter the nest.

"Technoblade?"

"What do you want?" He asked through the door.

"Woah, easy. I'm not looking for a fight. I came alone if that's what you were worried about."

Technoblade finally opened the door, the cold blowing over him. He looked down on the trespasser, grateful for anonymity that his mask granted him.

"Why are you here?"

Dream raised his hands, showing he was weaponless.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I was just wondering…"

Technoblade gripped the door handle, unseen by the other masked man. He knew what Dream was going to ask even before he said it. His mind raced with possible outcomes to a dozen different reactions as Dream spoke.

"...have you seen Tommy recently?"

***

Technoblade was grateful for many things, but in the current moment, he was most grateful that Phil had insisted on an entire separate room for Tommy's nest.

Technoblade had argued he could just sleep in their nest and have the rest of the cabin to mess with. It was a fair argument, he thought. The Tommy Technoblade knew was loud and excitable and would not take kindly to being cooped up in a single room. He was somehow both right and wrong about this. Tommy did make his complaints known in a very, very loud manner. But after the imprint, he seemed to have unintentionally mellowed out towards it. 

But none of that was why Technoblade was grateful for the separate nest room. The reason he was happy about it now was because there was no real evidence that Tommy was in their cabin. Dream could poke around all he liked but there would be no hint that the child was here-

"Breakfast for three?" 

Ah.

"Yep."

"Phil, Edward and I were having a very lovely breakfast that you interrupted." He crossed his arms. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get an enderman to open up? Let alone sit and converse at the dinner table? Seriously Dream, you could not have picked a worse day to pop in here-"

"Alright, alright. Sorry, I'm sorry!" Dream laughed. 

"I wasn't really planning on sticking around anyway. I was just looking for Tommy."

"As you said. Which, little odd to be honest with you. You know I hate the guy right? Why would I know where he was?" 

"Well, to be honest with you , I...don't think he left willingly."

"Oh?"

"His stuff was flung around everywhere. He disappeared in the middle of the night. It doesn't sound very Tommy , y'know?" 

"Huh. Well. Fail to see how that's my problem. Kid pisses off everyone he meets. Who knows, maybe he even got eaten by some mobs."

"Nah. He wouldn't have."

"Wouldn't have...gotten eaten? Dream, I'm not sure how to tell you this but zombies don't really ask permission when they chow down on you. Unfortunately they don't really care too much about consent. "

"That's not what I-"

"I'm very sorry I have to inform you like this. I know it must be devastating to hear mobs don't care if you don't want to be eaten alive but I beg of you, Dream. You need to remain calm. Canceling them doesn't really solve anything. They're just gonna keep eating people-"

"Oh my god! What is wrong with you!?" Dream face-palmed.

"Mask-palmed?"

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid!"

"Look. Just…" Dream took a deep breath. "I just want to make sure he's not out causing trouble. You know how Tommy can be."

"Sure."

Dream waited, like he wanted Technoblade to say more. Unfortunately for him, Technoblade was a master at awkward silences. He was an introvert after all. Talking was more Phil's thing. 

When it was clear Technoblade was not going to say anything else, Dream shrugged. 

"I'll get out of your hair then."

Technoblade showed Dream out. Watching the man leave through the window. He waited, watching until the man was out of sight. Then, he waited a little more.

A few minutes later, a crow landed on the windowsill. It nodded.

Technoblade did not run upstairs. He just took very large steps.

He made a beeline for the nest room, not registering that he was still holding his axe or that chat was screeching different ideas and phrases. He only realized how loud they were when they suddenly quieted. He blinked and stared at his hand wrapped around the doorknob. Chat was whispering now. The air felt oddly tense.

He opened the door.

There was a sword to his throat.

Safe-pack-safe . He chuffed to Phil. The avian didn't move for a moment but eventually, slowly lowered the weapon. 

Technoblade inclined his head. Enter?

Phil yanked Technoblade in. The piglin allowed himself to be guided into the nest and the door shut behind them. 

For a moment, the room looked empty and both Technoblade and his chat panicked. Then, a small head popped out from a mound of blankets. Tommy looked bleary and out of it, just like his father. But unlike Phil, Tommy seemed to be fighting the haze. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head.

"What…" He croaked out. His voice had a whistle-quality to it. The sign of repressed chirps. Technoblade chuffed and he could see the way Tommy clenched his jaw to hold in a response. They really needed to work on that. 

Not now, though. Now, Technoblade needed to get Phil more aware. As much as he'd like to curl up with his pack and sleep the stress away, this wasn't something he could ignore.

"Phil, can I talk to you?" Phil inclined his head to show he was listening. Technoblade hesitated. Here was the hard part.

"Outside? Just for a minute." Phil tensed. He stopped his absentminded task of nesting, the blankets clutched in his hands.

"What? Why? What's happening?" Tommy tried to sit up, the blankets sliding off of him. Phil was next to him immediately, pressing him back down and tucking the blankets around him. Tommy didn't resist, a combination of the imprint and the earlier scare making him compliant.

"Nothin'. Just need to talk to Phil. We'll be right outside. We can guard." The last suggestion seemed to register better. Phil mulled it over, as he smoothed down Tommy's hair. The boy was glancing between them looking more upset by the second.

"You- you can't just- what the hell?! I deserve to know what's happening." 

"You will. Not yet. I need to talk to Phil first. Come on, don't you want to check everythin' is secure?" He coaxed his packmate. That seemed to be enough. Phil pressed a kiss to Tommy's hair and then stood up.

"What the-?! No! Don't just-!" Technoblade gave Tommy one last glance as they walked to the door. The nestling looked infuriated but he would get over it. But suddenly, Tommy narrowed his eyes. 

Uh oh.

"Phil…" Tommy whined. Phil stopped. "Phil, please don't leave…"

"Bruuuh, Phil he's manipulatin' you! Look! He's not even tryin' to be subtle about it!" Phil seemed to be hesitating. Any other time he would laugh off Tommy's attempts at tricking him but he was too deep in his instincts to resist.

Still, Phil was doing a great job of it. Technoblade could tell how eager he was to jump back to Tommy, but somehow he managed to stand his ground. Technoblade allowed himself to hope maybe Phil would be able to leave.

Then, Tommy pulled out the big guns.

Phil caved the second Tommy chirped, high and fearful. He was back across the room pulling his nestling into his arms, releasing reassuring chirps.

"You are an evil child."

 Tommy just smirked. It did not have the same victorious air he probably hoped it would. Not with how he was curled up in Phil's lap as he did it.

"Fine. Fine, you really want to know?" Technoblade sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dream was here."

It shattered the somewhat relaxed air that had settled in. Both avians reacted immediately to the news. Tommy's eyes widened and Phil crushed Tommy underneath him, mantling his wings around his nestling. He started to hiss.

"He's gone! He's gone. Your crows made sure." Technoblade scrambled to soothe Phil. He really did not need the man to descend into a furious haze right now. 

"Dream was here?" Tommy prodded. Technoblade hesitated to elaborate but putting it off wouldn't solve anything. 

"He...was looking for you. For Tommy." 

Phil hissed even louder.

" I'll skin him alive if he comes near my nestling."  

Technoblade tried not to show how surprised he was that Phil was managing to talk right now. But maybe it shouldn't be so shocking. Of course Phil would overcome a nonverbal state just to make death threats.

"Wait-wait- me? He was- why was he- Phil, get off - Techno, Did he say-?"

"This is exactly why I didn't want to have this conversation here." Technoblade groaned. Chat was even against him. Half were right there with Phil, shooting out death threats to Dream and anyone else than would try and enter their nest. The other half was cooing over Tommy again.

"Not that we ever really stop LBR."

"KILL HIM TECHNO!"

"He's like a wittle babyyyy!"

"TECHNO KILL DREAM POG!!!"

"Did you know rats spelled backwards is star?"

"Phil, I get it. But I'm really goin' to need you to focus here. I can't be the voice of reason. My solution is Withers. Withers, all the time… Actually, that's a lie. It's almost all the time. The part of time that isn't Withers is Ravagers ."

Tommy snarled and it descended into a hiss. Aw, like father like son. 

"You are not sending out fucking Withers to my best friend !"

Technoblade frowned.

"Wait, I thought Tubbo was your best friend?"

Tommy sputtered. "That- he left- fuck you! I don't have to explain shit to you! It doesn't matter-"

"Tommy's right." Phil croaked.

"Yeah! Wait. I am?" Tommy looked back at Phil. Who was still curled around his nestling like a dragon protecting their hoard. 

"I can't believe you ignored a mother hen with an egg simile. It's RIGHT THERE!"

"Exactly! It would've been stupid to use! It's too obvious!"

"YOU'RE STUPID!!!!"

"E. E. E."

"I mean. Yes, of course I am! See? Withers are stupid just like you, Technoblade-"

"Not that part."

Tommy stopped gloating. "Wait. Which part?"

"The part that none of this matters." Phil leaned his cheek on the top of Tommy's head and thrummed. "You don't need to explain anything to us. Not if you don't want to."

"Oh. Uh, okay? I mean-"

"Because either way, if someone comes near you," Phil opened his eyes. By pupil dilation, Technoblade could tell Phil was coming back to himself. 

"I'll tear them apart with my bare hands."

Aaaand they were back to death threats.

"Very fair. This is a safe space. Your feelings are valid." Technoblade jumped in when it looked like Tommy was about to combust. "But Phil - and I say this with love in my heart - please calm the hell down. I need you to focus."

"He realizes he's talking about Phil, right?"

"Lmao, Technostupid. Dadza is chaotic all the time."

"Guys shut up! It's for the runt!"

"You don't- what the fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Tommy shoved at Phil, barely getting an inch between them. Technoblade would be more smug at how Tommy's manipulation of Phil earlier had backfired, if it didn't look like the kid was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Phil-"

"You're mine ." Phil hissed. Technoblade closed his eyes for a moment. Resolving himself to the many, many escape attempts in the near future.

Tommy was silent. In fear or shock or something else, Technoblade didn't know. Phil wasn't waiting for a reply, anyway.

"You're my nestling. Do you know what that means? It means I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to keep you safe whether you like it or not." Phil finally drew back, only to cup Tommy's face in his hands.

He rested their foreheads together, Phil's eyes closed and Tommy's wide open. 

"I want you to be happy. But I need you to be safe." 

Tommy's gaze hardened.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He growled. Tommy smacked away Phil's arms much harsher than his earlier attempts. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He repeated again louder. "You need me safe?! Then where the fuck were you, Phil?! How long was I alone?! You only found me because of some fucking crows!"

He was shouting now and neither Phil nor Technoblade made any attempt to interrupt. They both could see this was sorely needed.

"You weren't there for me! But you know who was?! Dream! Dream was! He was there every day for me! If anyone was keeping me 'safe' it was him!"

Tommy was shoving Phil on every other word and the man in question did nothing. It didn't seem to calm Tommy down. If anything, it aggravated the boy more that he was getting no reaction. 

"I hate you! You don't keep me safe! You're keeping me prisoner! I don't want to be yours! I don't fucking want any of this! I-"

Phill finally moved, grabbing Tommy's wrists when the boy tried to shove him again. Tommy froze, a chirp slipping out.

"Then what do you want, Theseus?" Technoblade asked for them both. 

Tommy swiveled his glare toward the piglin hybrid. 

"Don't act like you actually care. " He snarled. "He just threatened to kill my best friend!" Tommy jerked his head to Phil. 

"That's not-" Phil stopped. Then started again. "I didn't mean it like that." He was quieter now. 

Tommy just glared.

Phil sighed. He stared down at Tommy's wrists and rubbed his thumb over the boy's pulse. 

"I don't want him to hurt you. I can't- I don't want anyone to hurt you." Tommy looked like he was hearing himself up for another rant.

"But you're right."

Tommy froze.

"...what?"

"You're right, little one. I didn't keep you safe when you were out there alone. Dream did."

Technoblade could see the hope flaring in Tommy's eyes. Hope and something else.

"Wait. Wait, really? So- does that mean you're letting me…?" He trailed off, like he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"No." Phil cut off that thought before it could even really take off. I told you I wouldn't lie to you and that's still true. I'm never letting you go, Toms. You're mine." He pulled Tommy in slowly by his captured wrists. Phil's wings acted like a barrier keeping Tommy from retreating. 

When Tommy was tucked back in Phil's arms, he continued on. "But Dream...well, I can't blame him for not understanding what an avian nestling needs. I'm sure he did the best he could."

Tommy didn't reply. He didn't fight Phil's hold but Technoblade didn't think the way he slumped into it was from anything positive. Phil tore his gaze away from Tommy to meet Technoblade's own. A silent conversation happened between them.

Okay? Phil was asking with furrowed brows.

Technoblade swept his eyes around the room before landing back on Phil. 

Are you sure it's safe?

His lips thinned and his gaze dipped down to Tommy. To the way Tommy was limp in his arms. No longer fighting but neither was he clinging back. No. But we need to do damage control.

Then, Phil dipped his head. It's your house. Your nest, your choice.

There was a long pause. 

"Yknow what?" Technoblade broke the silence. "Why don't we just invite Dream here?"

Tommy stirred. His head turned to stare one confused eye at Technoblade.

"Techno?" Phil asked. Are you sure? Phil meant.

"Eh, why not? It'd be great clout. Plus, I feel bad for the guy. I've never actually seen his house. He just shows up in random places, I'm starting to think he doesn't have a house."

Tommy snorted and then looked irritated with himself for daring to find that funny.

"Homeless Dream arc pog." He mumbled. Ah, good. Kid was back to nonsensical phrases. Judging by Phil's relieved expression he had noticed it too

"If this is what you want." It was phrased like a statement but Technoblade could hear the question behind it. 

"Are you gonna kill him?" 

"I mean, I'm not plannin' on it. I'm retired, remember?" 

Tommy looked up at Phil.

"...If this is what you want." Phil repeated.

"Does he even know what he wants?"

"Little bird. Little runt. So sad. So scared."

"God, I don't want to deal with Dream but...baby :((("

"How did you make that sound with your mouth-"

"Thank you." Tommy whispered.

Chapter Text

"Did you put away the-"

"Yes. Did you grab-"

"Already done."

"Okay, how about…"

Tommy watched Technoblade and Philza flit about the cabin like two competing hurricanes. Well, maybe not competing. They worked in tandem, tucking away items and counting out ammo and potions. 

They looked more like they were preparing for war than meeting Tommy's friend.

"I thought you said you were retired." He tried to sound more annoyed than worried. He didn't succeed based on how fast Phil abandoned his task to move to Tommy. 

Or, maybe he did succeed. Phil was becoming less and less subtle with his smothering affection as the days went by. The worst part was Tommy found himself leaning into it more often than he rejected it. His instincts ached for the comfort and safety he now unintentionally related to Phil.

"It's just precautions, mate. Don't worry." Phil cupped Tommy's cheek and Tommy allowed himself to lean into the touch. He was getting better at controlling his instincts. Part of it was learning when to fight his bird brain and when to give in. A hand cupping his cheek was easier to resist, yes, but accepting it now would make it easier to resist other comforts later.

With his best friend on his way, Tommy knew he couldn't afford to be coddled by Phil. He'd soak up the attention now so he had enough buffer to push back the instincts when Dream arrived.

Phil and Technoblade had discussed another day over how to approach the situation before Technoblade contacted Dream again. Ground rules were established (ground rules that they refused to tell Tommy about, other than that they were there) and a meeting date was set and that was that.

Apparently, things weren't as simple as Phil had told Tommy they would be. He and Technoblade were now packing away objects and moving furniture while Tommy was stuck on the couch. He had attempted twice to either help or just move around and explore. He gave up when Phil threatened to leave him in the nest until Dream arrived.

"It's Dream. You said he was- well, you said- he wasn't mad, right? He knows I didn't…" Didn't run away? He almost said. Phil just smiles.

"Everything is going to be fine… but if you don't want to see him-" 

"I do." Tommy cuts Phil off. Phil gives him a long look which Tommy meets with his own steady gaze. Eventually, he nods and returns back to his tasks.

Tommy knows Phil would love to call this whole thing off. But this is the closest Tommy has come to the outside world in weeks. Even in exile, Dream would tell him about things going on in L'manburg. Now, he's had nothing but Phil and Technoblade. 

He can't let Phil cancel the meeting. As anxious as it made Tommy, the idea of facing an angry or disappointed Dream, he needed to see him. Maybe Dream would even be able to help him sneak away! Then he could...could..

Could what? Go back to...exile?

It's a sobering thought. Tommy is exiled. He's been so focused on escaping, he forgot to consider where he's escaping to . He's not going back to L'manburg when he gets away. They don't want him.

They don't want him. 

He curls into himself, feeling unnaturally cold. Tommy bites his tongue to hold in a chirp, making a strangled coughing noise instead. 

It still draws the attention of the room's other occupants but thankfully, it seems more confusion than false concern.

"What?" He growled. "Are you two fucking done yet?"

Phil frowns, opening his mouth to reply when-

There's a knock on the front door.

Immediately, Phil is beside Tommy. His wings mantle around the younger avian as he glares at the door.

"I thought you told him to comm us." He hissed.

"I did." Technoblade whispered back.

Tommy doesn't join in on the conversation. He's struggling against the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. Thankfully, it wasn't as terrible as the first time Dream visited. That knock..

Tommy was alone. He was alone in the living room staring at the door. That flimsy wooden door was the only thing from keeping a stranger from entering and coming near Tommy and hurting him or taking him away from Phil. But Phil wasn't even here. Where was Phil? Tommy was alone and he was scared and he can't move he can't move if he moves the stranger will see him he has to be still he's so scared-

Tommy blinked away the memory, tugging against Phil's hold. The man doesn't release him. He doesn't even seem to register Tommy's escape attempt.

There's another knock.

"Guys? It's just me. Techno?" 

Dream.

Tommy hasn't heard Dream's voice in almost a month. (Or was it longer? It was so difficult to keep track of the days in the nest.)

Tommy can't decide if he's excited or terrified. Phil seemed to decide he's the latter and pulled Tommy impossibly closer.

"Tech-"

"I'm comin'!" Technoblade called out. "Hold your horses, jeez. Impatient much?" 

Technoblade stalks to the door, axe in hand. Tommy struggles to unstick his tongue to yell at Technoblade but the piglin hybrid is already pulling the door open.

The room is silent. Tommy can't see Dream from this angle and he waits with bated breath to hear what will happen.

"Techno, what is with you and that axe?" Dream sounded amused. Tommy found himself relaxing without meaning to. Dream was in a good mood.

"Scarin' off any girl scouts." Came Technoblade's deadpan reply.

Dream laughed. When his laugh died out, there was another pause. This one felt a little more awkward.

"So, uh...gonna let me in?"

The silence stretched on and Tommy tensed, waiting for the thump of an axe or a cry of pain.

"What are you? A vampire?" Technoblade snorted. "Sure, Dream. I invite you in ." 

There were two pairs of footsteps now and the sound of the door closing. Tommy felt Phil tense, pulling Tommy closer to him.

"Phil. Let go." He hissed quietly. Tommy was not going to be curled in the man's arms when Dream first saw him.

Phil inhaled sharply. As he exhaled, the arms around Tommy fell away and he was freed. He scooted back, putting distance between them on the couch. It was a pointless action as Phil was already standing up. 

Not even a second later, Dream and Technoblade rounded the corner and entered the living room.

Tommy gripped the cushion under him as he stared at Dream's white mask.

Another pause. 

"Tommy."

Dream's tone was unreadable as always. Tommy didn't get a chance to observe his body language before Phil stepped forward. Coincidentally, he blocked Dream and Tommy's vision of one another as he faced the masked admin.

"Hi mate! I've been hearing you've been looking for Tommy?" Phil sounded completely normal. Tommy's eyebrows raised and he glanced over to Technoblade. The other masked man gave nothing away so Tommy went back to burning a hole into the back of Phil's head. 

"...Yeah. He disappeared pretty suddenly from Logsteadshire." Dream was many things but an idiot was not one of them, it seemed. He picked up on the vibe of the room pretty quickly. 

"I can fucking speak for myself! I'm right here!" Tommy growled, his wings puffing up in irritation.

"Well, you found him. He's alright, as you can see." 

"I mean, I can't see him, actually." A challenge.

The tension in the room crackled.

Oh, this is some horseshit. Tommy thought. He ripped the blanket off himself and chucked it across the couch, standing up as he did so. 

"I am right here. " He snarled. The action was easier than Tommy expected it to be. Considering the bird in his mind had been a whirlwind of clingy panic all morning. Though, maybe that was exactly why Tommy could demand the attention he was being denied.

Phil wasn't looking at him, the bird was whining. That was unacceptable.

It was enough of an outburst that Phil broke his staring contest with Dream. (It was kind of a stupid contest. Dream wore a mask . Tommy could have told Phil he knew from experience you couldn't beat Dream.) 

The avian turned to face Tommy and he watched as Phil's eyes widened. 

"Tommy, you know the rules." His eyes pointedly shifted to the blanket Tommy had discarded.

Tommy felt his cheeks begin to burn. He very pointedly did not look at Dream.

"I'm not your slave . You don't get to tell me what to do."

Phil's eyes narrowed. He said nothing.

Well, if he was waiting for Tommy to just give in and grab the blanket he had another thing coming! Tommy was a big man! Fuck Phil! He crossed his arms, ignoring the way his wings curled around his shoulders.

"Am I missing something?" Dream broke the standoff. "It's a blanket right? What's happening?"

"Nestlings can't regulate body temperature in their wings." Technoblade was the one that answered.

"Nestlings?" Dream asked. Tommy wanted to shrivel up and die.

"Yes. Tommy just grew in his wings. He's a nestling. As they're meant to be kept in a nest. "

Dream reared back. His head turned and Tommy knew the man was looking at him.

"Tommy, why didn't you tell me?" He sounded hurt. Tommy sputtered, not ready for the attention.

"What-?! I- he's just making shit up! He's been keeping me prisoner here!" Tommy pointed at Phil who looked unrepentant as he always did when Tommy threw the accusation at him.

"I took you home. You need a nest . Something your best friend failed to provide." Phil's words trailed off into a hiss that had Tommy shrinking back. 

"Woah, okay. Can we all just- I don't know why you're so angry, Phil? I was just worried about Tommy. You invited me here." Dream put his hands up in surrender. He gave a small half-shrug. 

"Tommy's the one that matters here, don't you agree?" 

Phil hesitated. Tommy couldn't read the man's expression and Technoblade was no help. The latter had become a statue in the room, watching things unfold. Socially awkward porkchop.

Phil was...staring at Dream. Tommy didn't know what the man was looking for but whatever it was, Phil apparently found it. He relaxed at once, nodding to himself.

"Let's...have a seat. Goodness knows why we're shouting in the living room." Phil chuckled. His whole demeanor had shifted and he gestured to the armchair across from the couch that Tommy was standing by. 

Phil then made a beeline for said couch, passing Tommy by. He picked up the blanket Tommy had discarded and sat in its place. He patted the cushion next to him smiling up at Tommy.

Well, Phil must have dementia or something if he really thought Tommy was going to mozy on over and cuddle up like they were best fucking bros for life. He pointedly sat as far from Phil as he could on the couch.

Dream was already sitting in the armchair. Technoblade leaned against the wall behind Dream.

"Sorry about that, mate. Can't ever be too careful when it comes to your nestling." Phil chuckled.

Dream just nodded. "Not really sure I get it, but I'm not an avian."

"It doesn't mean anything. He's just using it as an excuse to keep me here." Tommy cut in before Phil could reply. 

It wasn't as aggressive as Tommy had intended for it to sound. He was off kilter. There were a dozen different scenarios Tommy imagined for Dream coming to see him. Dream, bursting in to whisk him away. Dream, coming in and blowing up hi-the nest. Dream, fighting off Technoblade and Philza or arguing and pointing out the insanity of their actions. Dream, laughing and mocking him for how weak and pathetic he was crawling to Phil for an ounce of affection.

Dream, hurt that Tommy abandoned him.

That last one made his stomach twist in knots. Because it felt the most accurate. Silent treatment was one of Dream's favorite ways to express his anger or hurt or disappointment. 

And now Dream has barely acknowledged Tommy since he entered the cabin. Tommy doesn't even have a right to be upset. He deserves the silent treatment. Fuck, he deserves much worse for this.

"It's a term for an avian hybrid that has just manifested their wings. Up until the flight feathers are in, they're meant to be cared for and protected."

 As Phil explained, he stood up again. Tommy leaned away when Phil approached but there was nowhere to really go.

"Phil." He hissed, as the man tucked the blanket around Tommy, pulling him close. His bird brain did backflips of joy. Tommy stared at the coffee table rather than look at Dream. He wouldn't have been able to meet the man's eye anyway, but this was humiliating enough as it was. His face burned. Tommy only leaned into Phil's embrace so he could ignore everything that was happening. That was the only reason.

"I had...no idea."

"It's not your fault, mate. Avians can be a little protective with nestlings. Even just details of their growth are closely guarded." A hand ran through Tommy's hair. He bit hard on the inside of his mouth to keep from chirping.

"Hey, Tommy." 

Tommy stiffened, and felt Phil freeze along with him. The hand in his hair stalled and there was a familiar sound of wings shifting. He forced himself to look at Dream. He knew better than to ignore the man.

Unreadable as always but Dream's body language was open. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward.

"I'm really sorry, Tommy."

Tommy's breath caught in his throat.

"You...what?"

"I didn't realize I wasn't providing enough. With everything going on in L'Manburg- and you said you were fine-" Dream shook his head. "No. I shouldn't be blaming anyone else. I'm sorry I didn't know you needed more help. I would have been there more."

Tommy must be hallucinating. This didn't feel real. This couldn't be real. Because it was a dream come true and-and Tommy didn't deserve something this wonderful.

"Hey, it's- come on. It's not your fault! You were there for me!" He only realized he was leaning forward when Phil pulled him back. Settled into the man's arms, he relaxed instinctively.

"Thank you for that, Dream. You did alright for the situation that you had." Tommy was tucked firmly into Phil's side. He tried to glare at the man but Phil wasn't looking at him. He was having another stare off with Dream. Really showed Phil's IQ. Having a staring contest with a man in the mask.

"No, yeah. I could have done better. I get why you left, Tommy." 

Tommy jolted and looked up, opening his mouth to explain he absolutely did not leave! But Dream was continuing on already and Tommy knew better than to interrupt him.

"After all, I'm sure Phil knows what he's doing. Being an avian as well, and all. Even without experience raising a nestling already, I'm sure you'll do a much better job than I would taking care of Tommy-"

"Mate, I do have experience already raising a nestling." Phil chuckled.

"Oh. Wait, really?" Dream sounded genuinely surprised. Tommy was right there with him. Who else was Phil kidnapping and forcibly coddling because he's bored and a dickhead? It wasn't like there were other avians in the server-

"Uh, my son? Wilbur?" Phil laughed again, but this time it sounded slightly strained.

"What?"

" What?"

Tommy and Dream spoke at the same time. Phil turned to Tommy, his expression becoming confused. 

"What do you mean 'what'? Wilbur-"

"Was not a fucking avian! He didn't have wings!" Tommy wasn't sure why he was yelling, but he was suddenly furious. Phil was lying. He had to be. Wilbur didn't have wings. Tommy would have known! He lived with the man, for crying out loud!

Phil blinked. "What are you talking about? Yes, he did! Ghostbur even still has the bloody things!"

"I think I would have noticed if Wilbur had two giant feathered limbs sticking out of his fucking back, Phil! I lived with him!" Tommy shouted right back, feathers raising along with his voice.

Phil opened his mouth but was cut off.

"He was hidin' them."

Tommy glanced over to Technoblade. He...may have forgotten they had an audience. Technoblade was still leaning against the wall in the corner. His red eyes, shadowed within the eye holes of the skull, bore into Tommy.

"He was always wearin' that trench coat in Pogtopia. I didn't say anythin' because I was new to the server and sometimes people can be weird about hybrids. I wasn't sure yet about the vibes, y'know?" Technoblade shrugged. "Though, I didn't know he was hidin' them from you, too."

Tommy shook his head slowly. "No..No. that-that can't be- he didn't always-"

But...it made sense. Sure, Wilbur didn't always wear the trench coat, but before that he wore a similar style coat along with his L'manburg uniform. Before that he wore an overly large yellow sweater.

...The same sweater Ghostbur wore.

Tommy shook his head again. "No. No, I- He- Wilbur would have…"

Tommy glanced at each occupant of the room. Dream and Technoblade were as unreadable as ever with their masks. Phil was the only one of their faces Tommy could see, and the pity expressed there made him wish he couldn't.

"Look, mate-"

"No! You're- you're fucking lying ! You are! Wilbur would have told me!" Tommy snarled. His heart started to pound, the blood rushing in his ears. A strangled chirp forced its way past his lips.

Phil just looked sadder, cooing softly in response. Everything inside him wanted to sway forward and let Phil shield him from the world. It was exactly why Tommy did nothing of the sort. 

With a furious noise, Tommy ripped out of Phil's arms, scrambling off of the couch. Phil stood up immediately, following Tommy's retreat. The bird brain was already wailing throwing a tantrum and Tommy used it to fuel his rage.

"Toms-"

"Don't you 'Toms' me! Stop fucking acting like you know me! Stop- Stop pretending you care, stop fucking with me!" Tommy screamed, chucking the blanket off his shoulders and right toward Phil's face.

The man caught it easily, holding it as he stopped advancing.

"Tommy-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear anything out of your shit-stained mou-!"

" Tommy!"

Tommy's mouth snapped shut without his permission. The tone had struck right to his brain and his body froze immediately.

Dream had stood up too. Phil and Technoblade both staring at the man.

"I...I shouldn't have yelled. You were just freaking out." Dream shrugged.

Tommy nodded robotically. The bird inside him was silent, still. It did not call for Phil to save him. It did not want him to do anything except stay very very quiet and pray the predator would not find him.

"...I think that's enough excitement for today." Phil finally spoke in the silence that hung after. "I need to get Tommy to nest."

"Wait, look. I just want to make sure he's okay. He's really freaked out about the Wilbur thing. Maybe I should-"

"I'll walk you out Dream." Technoblade stepped forward.

"Techno, are you serious? I'm not leaving him with you guys! He's terrified of you-!"

Phil hissed, wings flaring. Dream tensed, hand reaching for a weapon that was not there. The room crackled with tension that pressed down on Tommy. He saw Technoblade shifting, Phil's feathers raising along his wings.

"W-wait. Stop." He croaked. The bird screeched at him to remain silent making it difficult to speak. The words he intended as a shout, came out weak and shaky instead.

It still worked surprisingly. Everyone in the room froze, though none turned to look at Tommy. He took what he could get and pushed on.

"Leave him alone. He's not why I'm upset." You are, he didn't say but the implication hung in the air regardless.

"Tommy. Tommy, come with me. I'm taking him out of here. I'm not letting you use him, Philza." Dream spit Phil's name with venom and Tommy almost groaned.

But Phil did not attack. He straightened up with a scoff, wings relaxing onto his back. 

"Thank you for visiting, Dream. We'll see if you can come around again, if Tommy is good." Phil turned away, a clear dismissal, facing Tommy now.

"I think," Phil stepped closer, expression neutral. "that it's time for a nap for little nestlings."

Tommy's gaze slid behind Phil. He couldn't see Dream's eyes but he had a feeling they were locked onto each other.

Then, Technoblade stepped in front of the man, murmuring something so quietly, Tommy couldn't hear.

"Tommy?" A hand cupped his cheek and Tommy met Phil's gaze once more.

"...yeah." Tommy agreed.

Phil smiled, something dark and satisfied in his expression. 

"Come on then."

Tommy was marched up the stairs, blanket firmly tucked back around his wings. He tried to glance back but Phil blocked the view, following right behind him.

He swallowed and allowed Phil to guide him into the nest room.

"Well, that was a little hectic." Phil chuckled, once the door was shut behind them. "Honestly, it went better than I...

Tommy stared at the blankets covering the floor and tuned Phil out. His mind was still trying to wrap around what had happened. 

Wilbur was an avian. Wilbur didn't tell him .

A hand on his shoulder pressed him down and he obeyed without complaint. Tommy layed on the blankets, letting Phil tuck them around him. He met the man's gaze, watching the same dark pleasure from earlier. It was softer now, but just as satisfied.

"There. You're safe. No one will ever hurt you. No one is going to take you away from me, nestling." Phil petted Tommy's hair as he crooned.

The declaration was just as confusing and worrying as it had been the first time Phil said something like it. But now, something niggled in his brain. 

No one will take you away. You're safe. 

... Wilbur was an avian .

Oh.

Phil smiled down at Tommy. The adoring expression was still present.

... Oh .

His stomach twisted

...I'm the replacement.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since Dream's visit. 

Technoblade and Phil had continued on like nothing happened, but Tommy could tell they weren't as unaffected as they pretended to be. Small things gave them away. The weapons that always seemed to be near Technoblade, or Phil's reluctance to let Tommy out of the nest.

The man had taken to sleeping in the nest again - something he had stopped a little bit after Tommy imprinted. Phil didn't seem to want to stop then , either. But Phil had asked and Tommy had very clearly told him to fuck off.

Yet here Phil was, curled around Tommy once more, large wings covering them both.

His bird side was pleased with this turn of events, settling with thoughts of flock-safe-happy . But each time that satisfaction settled in his chest, a sense of wrong twisted in his gut.

Each time Phil pulled him close, chirping and cooing, Tommy wanted to scream. Yet all that would come out was a responding chirp. Each time Phil offered a preen, Tommy remembered why Phil was so experienced with preening another avian.

Another nestling , to be exact.

Each time Phil whispered his love into Tommy's hair when he assumed the boy was already asleep, Tommy wondered how often he did this with his actual son.

As happy as his instincts were with the affection, all Tommy could feel was shame and a little bit of betrayal.

 Phil didn't want Tommy. He just wanted Wilbur.

He tried to ignore why that realization was so crushing. He shouldn't care that he was just a replacement for a dead son.

...Okay, it did sound pretty bad. But Tommy shouldn't be so affected! Who gives a shit if the old fuck was that unhinged to try and replace his son? It wasn't like Tommy had any attachment to Phil. Outside of instincts, of course.

No, Tommy didn't care if he was just a shitty stand-in for a dead man. What bothered Tommy was the realization that he wouldn't be able to keep this up. Sure, Phil was happy with his replacement now , but everyone grew tired of Tommy eventually. And that was without expecting him to fill in for a different person.

So Tommy did his best to make it clear he wasn't going to play along. The sooner Phil got it through his thick skull that Wilbur was dead and Tommy was just Tommy , the sooner...well, the sooner the better! 

He resisted the physical affection, snapped back at any pet-names, and did everything he could to ignore them when he was outside of the nest. Phil had tried to question his behavior but Tommy just snarled at him to fuck off.

Tommy could tell Phil was becoming desperate when Technoblade was sent to intervene. What Phil had hoped to accomplish with this, Tommy still had no idea. It just ended with Technoblade pinning Tommy down when he had tried to claw the fuckers eyes out.

After that, Tommy put his foot down and kicked Phil back out of the nest.

"You said I'm supposed to be safe here." He had snarled. "But you don't fucking listen when I want to be alone!"

After that, Phil had let him be and Tommy was able to sleep by himself. 

Though, he didn't actually do much sleeping. Most of the night there was an ache in his chest that kept him up and aware. It was a familiar ache, something he had been aware of in exile but had faded while staying at the cabin. 

Tommy had a theory of what was triggering this. He had been doing everything he could to limit contact with Phil and Technoblade, and his stupid fucking bird-brain hated it. 

Tommy couldn't sleep at night because everything inside him ached to chirp and chirp, calling out for the two to come find him. To come save him. Because he was alone .

They don't want you ! He would scream at himself. It was a harsh but much needed reminder. Phil didn't want Tommy, he wanted his son. All of this? Just some sick game of house to appease a grieving father. 

Technoblade's reasoning was even easier to understand. It was obvious he was playing along for Phil's benefit. He had made it clear he had no interest in Tommy time and time again. 

So fuck them. Fuck both of them to the void and back. Tommy wasn't going to play along anymore.

Tommy was getting the fuck out of here.

The first step was already done. Tommy had all night alone now. He just needed to wait until the two were sure to be asleep and then he'd sneak away. But that's where the hard part began. Tommy needed to either find the key for his nest door, or find something to pick the lock with.

The former seemed more difficult since Tommy hadn't even seen a glimpse of the key at any point. The only conclusion he could draw was Phil kept it on his person at all times like the creep he was. So Tommy went with option two.

It turned out, this also wasn't that difficult to achieve. There was a piece of jewelry Tommy found in one of the chests. He was pretty sure it was a hair clip. Either way, it was sure to do the job. Gold was pretty malleable so it would be easy to jam into the lock. He had attempted to smuggle it upstairs, but Technoblade had caught him. 

The panic lasted about two seconds before Technoblade snorted and told Tommy to let them know when he added to his stash.

"I don't want my own house to turn into a scavenger hunt. Tell me when you take something so I won't go lookin' for it, you raccoon." Technoblade was already turning away as he spoke. Which was for the best. Tommy was mere seconds away from blowing up at the man. That definitely would put a damper on Tommy's plans.

After that confusing and slightly embarrassing encounter, step two was complete. From there, it was really more about deciding a night to escape than anything else. Tommy had poked around the cabin enough to know where most supplies were. He still didn't know where his shoes were but he knew where Technoblade stored his own boots and coat - fucker was weirdly meticulous about his shit - and that would work just as well for a temporary sprint through the tundra.

It was...suspiciously easy how everything was coming together. Tommy's paranoia grew as he gathered his supplies with little to no issues. He had only grown more snappish because of this, worried the two were merely waiting for him to actively try to run before they would strike. 

Or maybe they really had no idea. But that wasn't any more reassuring. A single slip up and all of Tommy's planning would be for nothing. 

Maybe it would be smarter to play along, bring down Phil's guard so in the chance Tommy's plan did fail, the punishment would be lenient. But each time Tommy tried to fall into his role, he'd see Phil's smile, the love in his gaze, and Tommy would become nauseated.

It was all fake. None of it was actually meant for Tommy.

So he distanced himself as best as he could. Phil's attempts to bond were meant with aggression and his concern was brushed off. 

Phil stopped him one evening as he was heading back to the nest. A day filled with screaming and threats due to Phil demanding to preen Tommy again had left them all exhausted. 

Phil cupped Tommy's face between his hands, a sad look in his eyes.

"I wish I could make this easier for you." He murmured. "But I can't if you don't meet me halfway, mate. Please, can you just try? Just try a little, and I swear I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy here."

Tommy met Phil's gaze and decided right at that moment, tonight would be the night. Tonight, he was leaving.

I will never be him. He thought. I refuse to be him. I am Tommy.

His hands curled into fists.

"Okay, Phil." I am Tommy. 

"Thank you." Phil smiled, thumb stroking gently for a moment before he released Tommy's face. "Sleep well."

Eat shit and die. "Night."

He doesn't sleep at all. Too keyed up with anger and anxiety. His bird brain also helped out, making it impossible to relax. By the time he dared to sit up, the moon was high in the sky, shining into his nest through the window. It allowed Tommy to see enough of his surroundings that he didn't need to turn on the lights.

He crept to his stash, unearthing the contents. His instincts screamed to hide the loot again but Tommy forced himself to ignore it. There wasn't even anyone else in the room, and he was leaving this shit anyway.

But after retrieving the hair clip, Tommy only made it one step to the door before his limbs locked, refusing to move any further.

All he could think of was his golden apple, his picture of Wilbur, the feathers from BLiP. He...he couldn't leave them. He couldn't. They were his.

His.

Mine-mine-mine-

No!

Tommy shook his head fiercely, fighting the urge to curse out loud. He was not falling into another instinct spiral. Not now.

Fuck it. He'd just take the shit with him! It was all pretty light, and small enough it wouldn't be too much of an issue to carry. 

He gathered the stash into an empty pillowcase and then returned to his mission.

The doorknob was the next challenge. He needed to be fast but still quiet. If only he had had time to practice picking the lock, but Phil would have definitely had some questions about that activity.

Whatever. It can't be too hard right? Wilbur always made it look so easy. Just stick the shit in and wiggle around and presto!

Yeah, he could totally do this! It'll be-

…

There...wasn't a keyhole?

The doorknob was smooth, no hint of the locking feature. Fuck. Fuck. Did Phil have some crazy high-tech lock? Or-or- oh fuck what if it was enchanted?! So only Phil or Technoblade could open it?!

No, wait. That wouldn't make sense. Tommy could use it fine as well.

...Wait.

Wait.

Tommy stared at the lock.

"Don't you dare." He whispered.

Tommy reached forward, grasping the knob.

" Don't." He whispered again.

Tommy twisted his hand. The knob turned.

" Are you fucking kidding me." He breathed, letting his head very, very gently press against the door. 

It was unlocked.

It was fucking unlocked! How?! How did he never notice that?!

No- no maybe this was a trick?! Maybe- shit, maybe they knew he was going to try to escape! Maybe they're waiting downstairs ready to catch him! Ready to rip away the facade and show him just what happens when he disobeys.

But when would they have had time to do that? To remove the lock? Tommy is sure he'd have noticed them swapping it out, he lived in this goddamn room!

He wracked his memory, trying to figure out if there was any time they could have switched out the knob without him noticing. He couldn't think of any, not unless Phil or Techno had a passion of speed-running knob switching or some shit.

But what Tommy also couldn't think of was any time he actually saw them locking the door.

...Did he really just not notice it didn't have a lock?! 

But why?! It didn't make sense! Why wouldn't they have a lock?! They were trapping him here! He was a prisoner! He wasn't supposed to leave, he was supposed to obey and be silent and be good. 

Logsteadshire didn't have a lock either. The thought popped into his mind without permission.

His hand tightened on the knob. Tommy abruptly realized he was still standing in front of the closed door. 

Shit. Right. He was escaping.

Whatever. It didn't matter what Phil's stupid thought process was. Tommy was getting the fuck out of here either way.

He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. Tommy paused for a moment, listening in for any hint that Technoblade or Phil were awake. All he could hear was a faint snore coming from the opposite side of the hallway. Thankfully, the staircase was between his room and the others so he wouldn't have to pass right by them. 

He crept as quietly as possible, cursing Technoblade out in his mind for having oak fucking wood floors why is it so fucking creaky holy shit.  

Eventually, he made it to the staircase, after many, many pauses. It was both better and worse. Better because he was that much closer to freedom, and worse because Tommy knew these stairs were even more creaky than the floors.

He moved at a snail's pace, ignoring the adrenaline urging him to go faster and the bird instincts beginning to whine for the safety of nest-nest-needphil-neednest .

It took him about twenty minutes, Tommy would guess, to reach the bottom of the stairs. He stood there for a moment, trying to overcome the shock of actually making it this far. 

He didn't feel relieved either. If anything, the stress grew worse. The closer he became to freedom, the less likely he could talk himself out of it if he was caught. If Technoblade or Phil had woken up while he was still upstairs, Tommy could have just claimed he was taking a piss. He had less of an excuse for being downstairs now.

He moved faster now, creaky floors less of an issue on this level of the cabin. The moonlight illuminated Tommy's surroundings just enough for his eyes to adjust. But it didn't make it any easier to see details. He fumbled with packing, having to carefully feel out what was what. After snatching up Technoblade's boots and cloak, Tommy crept down the ladder to the storage room.

It was surprisingly brighter down here, which Tommy was thankful for. Technoblade either forgot to put out the lanterns for the night or just didn't care to do so. Whatever the reason was, Tommy wasn't complaining. He hadn't had an opportunity to come down here before. Phil had said it was 'too cold for nestlings,' because Phil was a dick like that.

...It was kind of chilly but Phil was being ridiculous. Tommy just wrapped Technoblade's cloak around himself and he was fine. Bam! Problem solved!

Now. To stock up on supplies.

Tommy couldn't go crazy, though. There was only so much he could carry. He'd grab some food, some ender pearls, and maybe a spare sword to fight off mobs.

It ended up being more difficult than he imagined. Not because he couldn't find what he needed. Technoblade, ever the hoarder, had more than enough stored away. No, the real issue came from Tommy's bird brain.

Anytime something slightly shiny caught his eye, it was suddenly already in his grasp. But he couldn't possibly carry all his supplies and multiple potions and enchanted books and stacks of podzol. (Really bird brain? Podzol was great but really?) Tommy already ended up taking more gapples and pearls than he had planned. His stupid instincts had almost overwhelmed him when he tried to put them back.

Eventually, he had to settle with what he had found. Tommy didn't really trust himself to resist anything else in those chests if he kept digging. He had a pretty good haul anyway. A stack of raw potatoes, some carrots, gapples and ender pearls. He didn't find any spare swords unfortunately. Tommy guessed they were in a different chest. One intended for tools or weapons. Whatever. Dream would probably blow up any tools he nabbed anyway-

...Oh. Right.

Tommy was...leaving. He was going back to Dream.

The thought caused a conflicting blend of emotions. Dream would never let Tommy keep all of these things. Once he reunited with the man, it- it would all be- even his stash would be-

Cheep!

Tommy clapped a hand over his mouth. The chirp was unbearably loud after so long in only silence. Tommy waited, frozen, for the sound of thundering footsteps. Phil shouting, loud and enraged. 

But nothing happened. Of course not. Tommy was two stories below Phil in a concrete basement.

He was alone.

Alone-alone-alone! Neednest-neednest!

Tommy shook his head violently. Trying to clear his thoughts. He did not need that stupid nest! He needed to get out of here!

No more wasting time. Tommy was leaving.

The new additions to his stash were added to the pillowcase and thrown over his shoulder. 

Thank god Technoblade had an exit on this floor of the house. He really didn't want to think about having to lug all this shit up the ladder. He struggled to push the door open for a moment. Tommy worried maybe this one was actually enchanted to remain closed or something but then he felt it give.

He realized soon enough the door had been stuck due to the large pile of snow blocking the exit.

Right. Fucking tundra.

He kept shoving at the door until there was enough room for him to slip out. The crack in the door created a wind tunnel as Tommy opened it. By the time Tommy actually stepped foot outside, he was already shivering.

But Tommy was outside . 

He stumbled forward, not even bothering to close the door behind him. The crunch of the snow and Tommy's own breaths were the only sound for miles around. He couldn't even hear any mobs around, thankfully. 

It was a struggle to walk. Even more than he had expected. Technoblade's boots were way too big for Tommy. He had had to stuff them with some paper back in the basement and tied them uncomfortably tight to keep them from falling off. But blistered feet were better than frostbite so Tommy did his best to push through the pain.

Then, there was the cold. The cloak was helping with that, at least. Tommy was glad he had decided to take it, but he could still practically feel his body heat escaping with each step he took. He hunched over, trying to protect his middle, but it was awkward moving like that with his wings and also carrying his pillow sack. 

But the real problem wasn't the cold, or the uncomfortable shoes, or even the distance of his journey. 

Goback-goback-neednest-neednest-needPhil-Phil-Phil-PHIL!

His instincts were going haywire. Each step was a fight with his own body to keep going. But Tommy was so close to freedom! His bird brain would learn to get the fuck over it once he was fucking safe.

He glanced back at the house after a bit, and was pleasantly surprised to see he had made a pretty good distance already. The bird-brain wailed in protest, and Tommy almost twisted back around under the urge to run back. 

He fought it off with the realization that he was really doing it. Tommy was getting away! Ha! Take that fuckers!

Goback-goback-needPhil-needTOGOBACK!

Another chirp flew past his lips without permission. This time, Tommy didn't care to muffle it. Even with crazy hybrid hearing, there was no way Technoblade or Phil could hear this far away. At least it seemed like vocalizing the distress helped with his instinct control. Tommy managed to increase his pace a bit.

Now that Tommy wasn't trying to hold them in, it seemed like his body took that as permission to go full throttle with the chirping. They only increased with each step, especially when there was no familiar croon from Phil in response. There was no safe-safe-comehere-besafe , coaxing him close. Not even a chuff from Technoblade, soothing and comforting in its own way.

They weren't here. They were back at the cabin. All warm and unaware that Tommy was becoming further and further away. That Tommy was growing colder, his wings heavier, his chirps louder. Why weren't they here? Tommy needed them. 

The lights were still dark inside the house. Tommy warbled sadly. Flock hadn't noticed he was gone? Why hadn't they noticed? Phil should have come for him by now-!

Tommy stopped, staring at the cabin off in the distance.

When...when had he turned to look?

He glanced behind him, seeing a set of footprints heading away...and then suddenly turning back and leading towards his current position.

Fuck! Stupid fucking bird brain!

"We are not doing this!" He hissed at himself, pivoting back away from the cabin. He shook violently, jaw clenching from the strain. Prime above, why was this so difficult?! 

"I'm leaving. I am leaving. I'm leaving." Tommy chanted with each step. He forced himself to swallow back the chirps again. They weren't helping, and apparently, were actually making it more difficult to focus. 

The new chant was more successful. Tommy didn't turn back to the cabin even once. Hearing his own voice kept him grounded.

Until he heard a flap of wings behind him.

Tommy slammed into the snow, voice dying with a wheeze. He couldn't speak, couldn't think outside of Flock-heneedsflock-predator!-predator!-help-HELP!

"Caw!"

Something nipped at his hands, which were covering his head. Tommy blinked rapidly, trying to pull out of the instinct haze he was falling in. He panted harshly. The effort of focusing felt equivalent to running a marathon.

Tommy pulled his head up, meeting a black, beady gaze.

"Caw!"

"...Pogboy?" Tommy croaked.

The crow shook its head.

"What the fuck. Um…"

The crow pecked at Tommy's temple.

"Ow! Jesus. Hi Barbs."

Barbara puffed up her feathers, pleased.

"Honestly, I'm glad to see you." Tommy sighed. "Where's the rest of your crew?" Barbs tilted her head and looked back towards the cabin. Tommy did not follow her gaze. He wasn't sure if his instincts could stand it.

"Well, sorry, but I'm getting the fuck out of here. Wanna ask the others if they want to come?" Tommy began to stand back up, brushing off the snow clinging to his clothing. His shivering grew worse now, after face-planting into the snow, grumbling to himself.

"God, what kind of dumb instinct shit is this anyway? 'Someone potentially attacking me so I shall lay down and pray they leave me alone.' Wonderful. Thank you bird brain. Fucking Christ."

Tommy reached down to retrieve the fallen pillow sack but Barbs intervened with a swift peck. 

"Ow! Barbs, I'm not playing right now. I have to go." Tommy reached again but Barbs hopped over and sat on the bag. 

Tommy glared at the bird. He received a blank stare and another caw for his trouble.

"Barbara. Barbs. I will give you a treat. Do you want to be my favorite? You need to knock it off. I will make Pogboy my favorite. Is that what you want?"

Barbara looked back at the cabin. Then, she looked at Tommy again. Her body seemed to droop for a moment.

Then, with a loud crow, she took off into the air, flying back the way she had come.

Tommy finally caved, glancing back towards the cabin just to watch her leave.

"Sorry." He mumbled. Tommy finally retrieved his belongings and returned to his journey.

He made it about two steps before the crowing began.

It was loud, worryingly loud. The caws echoed across the tundra loud and clear. Tommy whipped back around, but he couldn't see Barbs from this distance.

But if he could hear her, then the occupants of the cabin definitely could.

Fuck. What was she doing?!

He couldn't even scold her because she wasn't here ! She was at the cabin, probably about to fucking wake Phil and Technoblade up with her stupid...her…

Tommy realized what Barbara was trying to do at the same moment a light appeared in an upper window of the cabin.

"That fucking traitor ." He breathed.

Tommy didn't wait to see what was happening. He turned away and began to run.

Chapter Text

Tommy could just barely see the glow of a portal when Technoblade caught him.

Tommy was barely running, having tripped more than once in his scramble to flee. He had glanced back a few times, watching the dot change to a figure change to Technoblade as the hybrid had sprinted through the snow. 

It was inevitable. Tommy knew he was going to be caught. But he refused to make it easy for Technoblade.

He hadn't even heard the hybrid - hadn't realized how close Technoblade really was - when he's tackled from behind.

Tommy screamed, his instincts screaming alongside him. He was being attacked . He was alone and he was going to be hurt. Where was help?! Where was flock ?! Where was-?!

"Are you brain dead? " Technoblade snarled into Tommy's ear, yanking the boy up. 

Tommy shook off the panic, coming back to himself. Right, fuck. Technoblade was here .

Which was a bad thing! 

Tommy screamed again, this time more in fury than fear, as he was dragged back the way they had come. He elbowed back, aiming for Technoblade's face, forgetting the skull blocking it. Tommy yelped as pain exploded from the limb, which turned to a chirp at the end.

Once they start, they couldn't stop. Chirps bubbling out in loud shrieks of alarm. His bird-brain was yanking at the reigns of his focus. Every low growl from Technoblade only made it worse.

Flockangry-flockangry!-bad-bad-bad! The bird wailed, thrashing in Tommy's mind. His body thrashed alongside it.

" Let me go!" He screamed. "Let- help! Help me! Ph-!"  

He bit his own tongue with how fast his mouth closed. The almost slip of Phil's name was confusing as much as it was frustrating. He was running away from Phil! He wasn't supposed to call him!

But where was he? It was a fair question. The man had been so insistent Tommy wouldn't leave but it was Technoblade that had hunted him down instead. 

Was it a lie? Did he not care?

...Of course he didn't. Tommy was a replacement.

The reminder was a humiliating one. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes even as he clawed at the arms wrapped around his waist. 

Technoblade just snarled again, dragging Tommy without pause through the tundra. The sound had Tommy jerking, the bird overwhelming his thoughts.

Stop-stop-begood-begood-flockangry!

When he finally managed to resurface from the panicked haze, Tommy realized he was hanging back over Technoblade's shoulder. There was a tightness around his form, his wings pressed uncomfortably against his back. They pushed against the tightness, finding no give.

The panic came back, a tightness forming in his chest. He chirped again. Help-help-stuck!

"Almost home. Relax." Technoblade said. The deja vu of the situation was disorienting.

Tommy couldn't see anything besides Technoblade's back and the snow they trudged through. It made the journey seem so much longer than it probably was. Tommy gave up on shouting only a few minutes in. Any time he opened his mouth, all he managed were warbles of fear.

Eventually, he just laid limp over Technoblade's shoulder. Struggling only triggered his wings to shift and feeling them pinned caused the panic to increase tenfold.

Hours, or maybe minutes later, there was a familiar caw.

Tommy's lip curled at the sound of the very animal that had caused this. 

"You got him." 

Tommy tried to hide his flinch when Phil spoke, but Technoblade must have felt it. The arm holding his back patted gently for a second.

"He almost made it to the portal."

" Fuck. Get him inside. Prime, he must be frozen." 

Technoblade began walking again. A few steps and warmth enveloped Tommy once more. He gasped, his body shivering as if it finally registered just how cold it was before.

The light and heat of the cabin after all that time wandering in the dark tundra was overwhelming. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stay aware and out of the haze of instincts.

He heard the door swing shut just as he was lifted off Technoblade's shoulder. 

"Bring him to the fire." Fuck. Phil sounded pissed. The bird brain hated that. It wailed, longing for comfort. The familiar taste of copper filled Tommy's mouth as he bit his tongue to keep from chirping.

The tightness in his chest increased as Technoblade did as instructed, carrying Tommy in his arms now. Part of his mind screamed to run, or at least to fight back, but that part of his brain was easily smothered. The insistent urge to remain still-bestill-bequiet was much more powerful than any other thoughts.

He barely managed the strength to tilt his head in the direction they were headed. Phil was already there, stoking the fire to a blazing light. Blankets were already bunched around it, arranged in a way that had his bird-brain making grabby hands, demanding the comfort-safe-nest-nest.

But then Phil turned, and locked eyes with Tommy.

Phil looked furious .

The bird absolutely freaked out . Throwing a full-on tantrum inside of Tommy. 

"What were you thinking ?" Phil hissed, as Technoblade placed Tommy in the makeshift nest. Now in the light, Tommy could see the cloth around him was Technoblade's cape. Neither Phil nor Technoblade made a move to unravel it.

"Fu-uck you." Tommy growled. The words were like taffy stuck in his throat. All that wanted to come out was chirps. But Tommy was not going to be fucking silenced just because his instincts demanded it. 

Phil didn't even react to the curse. "Do you have any idea how suicidal that was? You went out without supplies, not even a coat , in the middle of the night! What was even your plan? Hm? What if there were mobs?!"

"I- did have-" Tommy cleared his throat. "I had supplies! I fucking-" He chirped, then clenched his jaw. 

"Stop that!" Phil scolded. "You're only making it worse when you repress it."

Tommy ignored him. The more he pushed through the haze, the easier it was to speak. "I had a whole fucking bag, bitch. I would have been fine. " 

"Well where is it?" Technoblade drawled, crossing his arms. He hadn't sat down, looking over Tommy in a way that was both nerve-wracking and somehow soothing.

"What do you-? It's-" Tommy stopped, glancing around. 

"Wh- What'd you do with it?! Where's my shit?!" Tommy snarled, twisting around to try and see his bag.

"Techno?" Phil glanced up at the hybrid.

"Tommy, you didn't have a bag. You were just scrambling through the snow like an idiot." He snorted. "Did you really lose your supplies in- what? An hour? Less? Cringe."

"No- no- it-" Tommy wrecked his memory. He- he had it. He-

He had been running from Technoblade, his free hands catching himself when he stumbled in the snow. 

He lost it.

He lost his stash.

The tightness in his chest returned, worse than before. He could hear an odd wheezing noise but it was barely noticeable with the sound of his blood rushing. 

He couldn't- He needed his stash. His body jerked, straining against the cape. It was wrapped tight. Enough give for him to squirm but no hint that it was loosening. But he needed it to loosen. He needed to go find his stash. Find it. Find it. Find-find-needit-needit-his-his-his!

There were hands on him, trying to pin him down. He thrashed harder in response. He couldn't stay here! He needed his stash! It was lost! It was out in the snow, open to anyone to find. Open to anyone to steal.

He screeched, loud and furious and so, so upset. Those were his things!

The lights spun, colors flashing, everything too tight but too exposing. Too hot but too cold. Too much but not enough . Flashes of pink, red, yellow- green. 

Green. 

Tommy screamed again, lunging away from the green. From the pain and anger and hate. He needed to get away. He needed his-

Flock!-Flock!-Flockhelp-Flocksafe!

The hands came back and Tommy screeched again louder, repeating his desperate call.

But all he felt were more hands, pinning him down. They weren't harsh but there was no give. He squirmed, warbling miserable as the hands dragged over his back-

No-no-no! No please! Please, I've been good! Tommy sobbed but went limp. The tightness pinning his wings disappeared and Tommy braced for the pain-

The mish-mash of colors abruptly vanished. He blinked once, twice, but his vision remained the same.

Suddenly, he could register his position. The sound of his harsh gasps, the taste of salt on his tongue as wetness dripped down his cheeks. A voice murmuring-

"-safe. You're safe. You're safe and you're okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Everything's okay. You're safe." 

Someone was petting Tommy's hair, holding him close. He twitched, feeling the soft glide of-of feathers? It felt like feathers. Like the times Phil would pull Tommy into the nest, wrapping the boy in his wings.

Oh. It was Phil.

Tommy peeped miserably and there was an immediate coo. Safe-safe-calm.

He wanted to fall into the noise. Curl into Phil's arms and never come out. But he couldn't. He still needed- it was still lost-

Mine-lost-need. He warbled. Talking seemed like so much work. Pulling syllables together and arranging them in a way that made sense. Ugh. For once, Tommy didn't fight the instinctive pull to chirp. It settled a part of himself he hadn't realized had been so on edge, to chirp and warble his complaints and problems.

"I know. Techno is getting it right now. He'll bring it back." Phil pulled Tommy more securely to his chest when Tommy tried to move. "Shh, just lay down."

The tears were still streaming down Tommy's cheeks. He whimpered, turning to rub his face along Phil's robe. The man didn't say anything. He just cupped the back on Tommy's head, scratching gently. 

"Oh, nestling." Phil sighed. "We'll find it. You took your whole stash with you, huh?" 

Tommy sobbed harder. He did . He took all of it and then he lost it. He lost his stash and it was tearing him apart. A hole had opened in his chest, gaping and painful. He squirmed, bringing his arm between him and Phil. He pressed against his own chest, trying to alleviate the pain. 

Safe-safe-calm , Phil cooed again. His wings shifted around Tommy, dragging the feathers along Tommy's own wings. Though, they were careful to not expose even a sliver of light from outside Phil's hold. His vision was still blocked by the limbs.

Tommy didn't care though. The lack of sight was, oddly enough, helping Tommy stay aware of his surroundings. 

Phil continued to whisper reassurances, chirping occasionally when Tommy's sobs would gain intensity again. It was exhausting. Tommy couldn't remember the last time he cried this much. But the tears just wouldn't stop. The pain wouldn't go away. 

They laid there for what felt like hours, before Tommy heard the sound of a door opening.

"Techno?" Phil said. Tommy froze, heart stuttering. Phil said Technoblade was getting his stash. Did- he must have it right? That's why he came back?

"Okay, one: This is not a bag. It's a pillowcase. And two: why did you choose a white one? I know that the nest is full of dyed ones!"

Phil laughed. "Thank the gods. Bring it- oh, easy! Easy, nestling. Come on, lay down." 

Tommy resisted Phil's gentle encouragement. Technoblade had his things . He needed it. He whined, pushing against Phil's hold.

"He still out of it?" Technoblade sounded closer. There was a shuffling of cloth.

"Yeah. It's his first stash. It- Tommy , relax. You're not going anywhere. Techno will give you your stash." 

Tommy flinched at the slight scold he received. He didn't want to upset Phil. He just- he needed - he couldn't-

Bestill-becalm-begood. Phil twittered. He adjusted their position, his wings gliding across Tommy as they moved.

Tommy whined but obeyed, letting himself be moved as Phil liked. 

"Here-"

"No. He'll panic again if he can't- Tommy , be still - he needs to nest. I'll meet you upstairs."

No! Tommy gasped, struggling harder. Technoblade had Tommy's- that was his-

Bestill-bequiet! Phil hissed. It was different from the chirps. The new noise felt like a slap to the face. Tommy flinched, and burst into another round of tears.

Phil sighed. "Shit. No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- damnit, I should have realized you're too raw for that." He mumbled, pulling Tommy close. 

Tommy buried his face in Phil's chest. Part of him relaxed at the soft coo he received, happy that his flock was not angry with him. The other part shriveled up with the humiliation of his situation. He had been running away only an hour or two ago and now he was curled in Phil's lap like a baby, sobbing his heart out. 

Tommy pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to stem the tears. It didn't really work. 

"Come on, let's get back to the nest." Tommy was shifted again, lifted into the man's arms. The movement forced Phil's wings to unwrap and the light of the room peaked in. It was dimmer now, the lanterns having been turned to low, but it still grated on Tommy's senses. He hissed and buried his face into Phil's shirt again, trying to block out the light.

"Be there soon. Don't worry. You'll be with your flock in your nest and you can put your stash wherever you'd like. How does that sound, hm?" Phil murmured into Tommy's ear as he carried him.

Tommy shivered, and chirped. It sounded nice. It sound really fucking nice. Too nice. All of this was too nice. Too good to be true.

That was precisely why Tommy had wanted to leave. None of this was for him. They weren't really his flock. It was just a lie. 

No-no-flock-flock! The bird wailed and Tommy instinctively tightened his grip on Phil. Phil cooed safe-safe and Tommy relaxed again, even as his tears continued.

The light in the nest room was thankfully just as dim as the living room had been. Tommy felt a small twinge of frustration that he ended up back right where he had started. But it was hard to hang on to with the exhaustion and anxiousness of losing his stash.

Speaking of that.  

Tommy lifted his head, seeing Technoblade already in the nest. Fucker was still wearing that stupid skull. Did he sleep with that thing?

"I wasn't sure if I should dump it out or not." Technoblade said. He held up a pillow case-

Mine-mine-mine! The bird shrieked. Tommy thrashed, straining closer to Technoblade.

"Ah- shit!" Phil, not expecting the sudden resistance, lost his grip on Tommy. He fell to the, thankfully, cushioned floor. Phil yelped Tommy's name but he barely registered it, already lunging towards the pillow case.

Technoblade released it immediately and Tommy scurried into the corner with his prizes. 

"Wait-are those my boots?! Heh?!" 

Tommy ignored Technoblade as he hunched in the corner. He wanted to dump them all out and make sure nothing was missing. But they would be exposed then. There were too many people in his nest. He glanced back, seeing both men were staring at him. Tommy narrowed his eyes, wings lifting to mantle around his stash.

"Go ahead. We won't look." Phil said.

Tommy didn't believe him for a second. "Leave." He snapped.

Phil chuckled. "Oh, no. You're still in trouble. You won't be leaving my sight for a good while."

Tommy flinched at the reminder. Fuck, right. He had run. 

Not only that, he realized. He had taken some of their things. Which….were in the pillow case. 

Shit.

He licked his lips, trying to think.

"Don't...don't look." He demanded, voice shaking. He braced for the scoff, the cold gaze, the snarl of " don't be selfish" but Phil just nodded and turned to face the door.

Tommy glanced at Technoblade who stared for a moment then grumbled and turned away as well. He didn't hesitate to dump out the pillow case, working quickly.

He double checked the contents, his mind relaxing when he saw that everything was still accounted for. There was no time to appreciate each piece. They were exposed. He quickly shoved them into the closest pile of bedding.

It wasn't right. They needed to be more spread out. He pulled out a couple items. A pearl and his first gapple. He scooted toward a different part of the nest, glancing back to be sure Phil wasn't watching.

Both he and Technoblade still faced the door.

"Hurry up." Technoblade growled.

"Techno." Phil scolded.

"You're being too soft. He ran. Into the snow , no less. He stole my shoes! He is still wearing my shoes!"

Tommy listened with half an ear as he desperately placed his stash. It still wasn't right. But he was running out of time.  

"Alright, alright. Tommy, I'm turning to look." 

Tommy almost whined. He wasn't done. It wasn't right.

" Finally ." Technoblade growled. 

Both men turned at the same time, seeing Tommy pressed to the back of the nest room, wings spread wide. His lips curled back in a snarl.

"Bruhh." Technoblade groaned. "Why are you mad?! You woke us up in the middle of the night!"

"You kidnapped me!" Tommy shouted back. "You-!"

He cut off with a chirp when Phil abruptly stood up. The man didn't look angry but that didn't mean he wasn't.

When Phil started to approach, Tommy reared back. There was nowhere to go, he was already pressed to the back of the nest.

"Get- stay away! Get away from me!" He shrieked. "I'll fucking kill y-!"

Phil simply cooed. Safe-comehere-safe .

Tommy gasped, shaking his head. "Stop! I don't- stop it!"

The distraction was enough. Tommy didn't realize how close Phil had gotten until he felt a hand wrap around his bicep. He screamed, trying to wrench away.

"Tommy- easy! It's okay!"

"Fuck you!" He screamed. 

"I thought you said he was tired?! " Technoblade rushed forward.

"It's- Tommy please ." Phil groaned, trying to avoid the wide swings Tommy made.

Tommy didn't listen to Phil's pleading. He knew what this was. They would butter him up, make him believe all was forgiven, and then when his guard was at the lowest? That's when they would strike.

Well, Tommy wasn't going to make it easy for them.

"Hold- you're not even holding him!"

"You're not helping!"

"I'm trying to get the friggin' boots off!"

" Fuck you!" Tommy screamed again, thrashing hard. His heart thundered in his chest. His legs were pinned, preventing him from kicking. Then the boots were removed.

"Heh?! Is- is this paper?!"

"For Prime's sake." Phil growled and then the world spun. The air rushed out of Tommy's lungs as he was suddenly crushed into the floor. 

His wings flapped for half a second before he felt a pressure in the space between the limbs. Suddenly, they fell limp. He chirped but there was no familiar coo in response. 

Quiet-quiet-bad! Phil hissed into Tommy's ear, keeping him pinned to the floor. The hiss rattled around Tommy's mind and he choked on nothing. The utter shame that filled him was overwhelming and intolerable. His vision blurred with tears.

"Enough, Tommy. Enough . No more fighting. We are going to sleep . And then tomorrow we will have a discussion about your behavior." Phil growled. "You are already in trouble. Stop making it worse."

Tommy knew it. He knew Phil was trying to trick him. It didn't make him feel any better. 

He strained one last time, trying to shove Phil off. The man just hissed in his ear again and his body froze without his permission. His bird brain was demanding he listen to Phil. All of his instincts wailing that flock was upset. That he had made flock upset. He needed to listen. 

Tommy pressed his face into the blankets and screamed. 

He heard Phil sigh and then the weight on top of Tommy shifted. Something touched his wings and he flinched. 

"St-" He couldn't even finish before Phil's gentle coo filled his ears. It was a balm to instincts. Forgiven-forgiven-good.

Somehow, that was what broke the damn. Tommy began to sob. He kept his face buried in the blankets, humiliated that he was reduced to tears again .

"Shh, come on. Don't cry mate." Phil stroked Tommy's wings as he cried. "It's been a long night. We're all tired."

"Just- please let me go. Please." He turned his face to plead with Phil. As hopeless as he knew it was, Tommy still had to try. 

He met Phil's gaze and all he saw was exhaustion and pity. Tommy knew what his answer would be. 

"It's time for bed, Tommy." 

Tommy went limp. There was no point. He was caught. He made no more struggles as Phil carefully eased his weight off. Nor did he fight when Phil adjusted him to lay on his side, facing Phil who pulled Tommy close.

 He heard the blankets shift and the bedding dipped behind him. Warmth crawled up his back seconds before Technoblade pressed against him, caging Tommy between them. 

Tommy said nothing else. What was there to say? He had tried to escape and he failed and now he was trapped.

As if to add insult to injury, Tommy felt better . With Technoblade and Phil close to him, his instincts finally began to calm and for the first time in almost a week, he knew he was going to rest easy. It was frustrating and humiliating.

Something hard poked the back of his head. 

"Sleep, runt. Stop fighting." Technoblade said. Tommy realized the object had been the hybrid's skull mask.

Tommy's eyelids slid closed. 

It was quiet for a bit. The only sound was their shared breathing. Tommy drifted deeper to unconsciousness, led along by instincts that whispered safe-safe-safewithflock.  

The last thing Tommy registered was a vibrating sensation against his back and a deep comforting rumble accompanying it.

Chapter Text

The rise of the sun over the tundra marked the start for a very difficult day. After a night of interrupted sleep, an escape attempt thwarted, and multiple panic attacks throughout the chaos, suffice to say, no person was going to be in a good mood today.

But Lizzie was not a person. Lizzie was a crow and Lizzie was having a great morning.

Barbara was still moaning over surely losing the Favorite status and Pogboy would not stop his incessant boasts over surely moving up in the little nestling's favor. Barbara could not even argue. Because Barbara had upset the nestling the night before.

"Had to! Had to!" She croaked. "Cold and wet and alone and cold and alone!"  

At this, the other two nodded. Yes, yes the nestling could not be alone in the snow! It was simply not right.

"Good and bad. Bad and good." Pogboy agreed. Barbara did the right thing but Nestling was unhappy now! His feathers puffed up and he tilted his head back cackling. "Pogboy Favorite! Pogboy Favorite!"

Barbara screeched and dove at Pogboy. The latter squawked and took to the air to avoid his flockmate's talons. She gave chase and they were both off, swooping and diving through the air around the cabin. 

Lizzie watched them in amusement. 

"Silly, silly." She snickered. Her flockmates were so funny! It's obvious Lizzie was and always will be the Favorite! Because she is Lizzie and Lizzie is the best.

But she would let them argue and bicker over what was an obvious answer. It just gave Lizzie more time with Nestling. 

Speaking of Nestling…

Lizzie flapped her wings as she hopped off the roof. One, two, yes. Three! Lizzie is the best and can count so, so high! Because of this, she knew which window was her Nestling's window! She landed as quietly as she could, not wanting to spook Nestling if he was still sleeping.

A good call too! (Which, of course. Lizzie always makes good calls because Lizzie is the best.) Crowfather and Pig were there as well. Pig did not like when The Flock came too close to his den. Lizzie assumed he especially wouldn't like it if he saw her so close to Nestling's nest.

But neither Crowfather nor Pig noticed Lizzie's arrival. They looked to be deep in conversation, neither even glancing at the window. Even still, Crowfather's hand was resting on Nestling's head, using his funny little grasping hands to preen the hair back from Nestling's face.

"I knew he would try to leave, I'm not blind. But running out into the snow? Does he hate us that much?" The words floated out, reaching Lizzie. Not that they made much sense. Nor did Lizzie really care what they meant. The important thing was Nestling.

Nestling was safe. Lizzie couldn't help the quiet coo that slipped from her beak taking him in. She wished she could join her flock, resting safe and warm. Maybe even try preening Nestling again. Nestling's wings looked much better but still not to the standard Lizzie was expecting.

Her own feathers ruffled, staring at the state of Nestling's. She was a little upset with Crowfather. He should preen Nestling more! Truly, her whole flock was useless. They were all very lucky to have Lizzie. Yes, yes, yes. Very lucky. For Lizzie was the best.

Nestling twitched, shifting for a moment. His brows furrowed as Crowfather and Pig's voices rose. Lizzie glanced sharply at the two, ready to reveal herself if only to scold them for waking Nestling. But they seemed to realize their mistake and they quieted soon enough, Pig even reaching over to rub at the space between Nestling's wings.

Lizzie cooed again, louder this time. But it was drowned out by Crowfather's own coo. The avian watched Nestling with an adoring gaze. - as he rightfully should, Lizzie thought - He reached a hand out, hovering over Nestling's wing for a moment. 

But he did not touch. 

The adoration faded, replaced with a sadder look. He retracted his hand with a sigh, reaching up instead to run his fingers through his hair. 

"We need to figure out how we're going to approach this." Crowfather said.

Pig glanced up, skull mask tilting along with his head. "I thought that was already obvious."

When Crowfather gave Pig an inquisitive look, the latter just shrugged.

"Look, if Theseus is going to choose to kill himself via frostbite, then it seems to me he's lost the privilege of makin' that choice."

Crowfather pinched the bridge of his breathing spot between his fingers. "Techno-"

"What? Don't act like you're not already thinkin' it."

"We can't just lock him up-"

"Are you serious? Like he's had much of a choice on where he's sleepin' already." Pig scoffed. He drew back, his mask tilting down to meet Crowfather's eyes with his own. Lizzie could practically taste the enchantments on it from here. She hated that thing.

"That's different and you know it. If we clamp any tighter, he'll never settle in. He will hate us."

Pig was silent for a moment. 

"What are we doing, Phil?"

Crowfather frowned. "What do you-"

"With him. What are we doing with Tommy? Wasn't it not too long ago you were saying just the opposite? Or was I just hallucinatin' your statement about wantin' him safe more than you wanted him happy?" Pig threw his arms out wide, the motion similar to Lizzie attempting to take off. But Pig did not have wings, the dummy. 

Crowfather shook his head. "You're twisting my words-"

" How?" Pig groaned. "That's literally what you said. How am I possibly twistin' your words?!"

"Fine, what would you have us do then? Hm? We add locks to the nest? Monitor his every move? Or better yet, I'm sure you still have some chains lying around! That will surely be good for his mental state." Crowfather scoffed. "The fact that he did this isn't a sign he needs to be punished, it's a sign he is unwell. "

Pig stared at Crowfather for a moment. "You hypocrite."

"Techno-"

"This was your idea!" Pig jabbed a finger at Crowfather, then down towards Nestling. Huh. The latter was still napping away. He must have been very worn out from the night before. Aw. Nestling was just so cute. "Phil, you know I'll follow you wherever you go, but only if you know where you're goin'! Because right now, it looks like you don't know what you're doin.' Right now? It looks like you're just letting-." Pig cut himself off, looking away.

The tension was thick and for a long moment, neither party spoke. Then, Pig slumped. He raised a hand and shoved it under his mask, rubbing at his obscured face.

Crowfather was silent. Expression unreadable, but Lizzie was looking at his body. His feathers were raising, betraying his ire. Lizzie pressed lower to the window pane. She did not like this. She wanted them to be quiet. They were making it very hard for her to focus on Nestling. Truly, Crowfather and Pig were ridiculous. Squabbling when Nestling was right there.

"I didn't…look, you can't ignore you're not bein' realistic. You wanted to do this! You came to me, Phil. How many dumb lectures did you make me sit through about what to expect? And how many times did I tell you it wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows? Not with Tommy. It's Tommy. The kid's self-preservation is screwed on a good day!"

Crowfather opened his mouth but Pig was not finished.

" You were the one to say you understood. That there would be a 'understandable adjustment.'" Pig shook his head. 

"Yes, thank you. I know what I said." Crowfather snapped. Then, he sighed. "It just- I don't know, mate. It just doesn't feel right. I feel like I'm missing something. Why now? What triggered him to do something like this?"

"We figured he would try sooner or later." Pig shrugged. 

"Yes, but this just- come on, mate. You can't tell me something doesn't feel off to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I…I don't know. It's just- okay, hear me out here." Crowfather paused, waiting for Pig to gesture a 'go ahead' with his hand. He took a deep breath.

"I feel like this might have to do with Dream."

"...how so?"

"Well, ever since he came to visit, Tommy has been- just- you've seen him. You know. I feel like this was triggered by the man."

"Well…yeah. We've kidnapped the kid and his friend came to visit, triggering a reminder this isn't a willing situation."

"Yes, but he's been so aggressive towards m- us."  

Pig straightened up. "Oh. Oh, my gods. Don't tell me you're jealous?"

Crowfather sputtered. "Wh- what the fuck are you on about-?"

"You are! You're jealous that Tommy wants to stay with Dream over you!" Pig face-palmed. Skull-palmed? Mask-palmed? Human terminology was very confusing for Lizzie.

" No. You're not listening-!"

"No, Phil. You're not listenin'. You are purposely avoidin' the issue here. The issue bein' that you're wafflin' around because you don't want to face the fact the Tommy isn't goin' to be magically happy livin' here."

Crowfather covered his face, groaning. " Technoblade-"

" No. No, Phil. Enough. Stop pointin' fingers. Stop tryin' to change the subject. Face the fact that no matter what, we're goin' to have to piss the kid off for a bit."

"And do what?! He's a nestling , mate. He's not some piglin runt. Dominance displays won't work! It would just stress him out. Fine, yes. If I had to choose, I would choose his safety over his happiness. But he's delicate. Even more so than he understands. If we push too hard and too fast it could make him worse. That would be a hindrance to his safety."

"Alright, fine. What would you do then, huh? Go on. What's your plan, Phil? Hm? What? I've got some parentin' books for you. Go ahead! Try out the gentle parentin'. Talk about your feelin's . Tell the kid how this upset you and you would really like him to not do this again. And then tell him his emotions are valid."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Maybe I will . It's not like we've tried that yet! We just- yeah! Look, let's just talk to him-"

"Oh, my gods. You have to be jokin'."

"He just needs a chance to vent. I'll talk to him and figure this out and-"

"You're doin' it again, y'know."

Silence. Again. Lizzie's plumage ruffled. She knew where this conversation was going. She did not like it. But she didn't want to risk taking off in worry the two will have caught her spying.

"That's not fair." Crowfather did not sound angry, but that was worse. Lizzie did not like it when Crowfather was sad. It made her feel very sad as well.

"I never said it was. But it doesn't make it any less true. You can't do this to yourself. Not again, Phil. You know it doesn't make the problem go away-"

" Stop. Stop it, Techno. I know . I fucking know! I just- I-" Crowfather hunched over, covering his face. His wings lifted, curling around himself in a mockery of a shield. 

His next words were difficult to make out, muffled by his hands and the window.

"What if I'm not strong enough? What if-"

"Then let him go."

That was enough to draw Crowfather's attention. He stared at Pig in shock. "What-?"

"Let him go, Phil. You can't do it? Fine. Sounds like Dream is more than happy to take over anyway. Sure, Tommy will probably develop all screwed up but eh, he's just some kid. He's not your kid right? He's not your nestling. Nothin' wrong with throwin' in the towel." Pig shrugged. "Here, we can do it now. I'll wake him up, get him some shoes, and-"

Lizzie could never understand Pig. She did not want to understand Pig. How could he be so blind to how his words were affecting Crowfather? Lizzie saw it, because Lizzie was not blind and she was simply the best. The longer Pig rambled, the more tension seeped into Crowfather's body. His wings dipped, then raised, his eyes widening and his pupils rapidly dilating and shrinking. 

Then Pig, the dumb-dumb, leaned forward. Reaching for Nestling.

He did not make it.

Crowfather lunged, a screech tearing through the air. It was so loud, Lizzie squawked out a warning call on instinct. Neither party paid her attention.

Lizzie was half-expecting to see the two still tussling around in the blankets but Crowfather detached from his opponent almost as quickly as he had attacked in the first place. He retreated quickly, backing up to curl over Nestling. His wings mantled around them both, a rattling warning clicking out of his throat. 

The sound alone almost made Lizzie take off then and there out of pure fear. But Lizzie was the smartest and the best bird ever. Yes, she was. She knew better than to draw the predator's attention.

" You're not taking him." Crowfather clicked out. "He's mine."

Pig sat up in increments, projecting his movements clearly. Crowfather twitched with each action, pupils narrowing to pinpricks and dilating just as fast. Over and over as he tracked Pig's progress. The clicking rattle grew louder and louder as Pig sat up fully. Lizzie made herself into a statue, not moving a single inch. Unlike stupid, dumb Pig.

"Easy. Easy, Phil. I'm not takin' him." Pig murmured. He chuffed a soothing pattern, finally going still. "It's me. Your flock's here. We're all here."

The rattling slowed and eventually fell to a stop, but Crowfather didn't look appeased. A heart-wrenching expression overtook his fury. 

"No. Not all of us. He's-"

"What the fuck? " A voice croaked out, thick with sleep and confusion.

All eyes snapped to the source, staring down at a now-conscious Nestling. The boy was staring up at Phil with wide eyes.

The nest was silent for a moment. So quiet that Lizzie could hear the confusion-scared? chirp out of Nestling in a tiny noise.

Crowfather reacted instantaneously, crushing Nestling under him even more and he warbled safe-content-safe , eyelids drooping with satisfaction from having his nestling so close.

"Get-get off!" Nestling shouted, squirming. He shoved a hand at Crowfather's shoulder, squirming around. His face scrunched up like he was in pain and Lizzie felt a spark of concern for Nestling. Was Crowfather hurting him? 

No. No, he wouldn't do that. It became apparent that the expression was from suppressed chirps. Lizzie's feathers prickled at the realization. That was not good! Nestling should not do that! 

Crowfather proved to not be completely hopeless though, as he noticed the action as well.

"Don't do that mate. We've talked about this, come on." Crowfather ended with a soothing warble. 

Nestling did not seem soothed. He only grew more stressed, struggles increasing as he tried to pull away.

"Tommy-" Crowfather tried to speak but Nestling cut him off with a shout.

"Fuck you! Let me go! I'm not fucking doing this anymore! Get away from me!" Nestling twisted onto his stomach, flapping his wings hard enough they smacked Crowfather in the face.

"Aw come on, Theseus. Let's talk this over like reasonable people." Pig butted in, tone as dry as the desert. Matching blue-eyed glares snapped towards him but Pig's expression was hidden even now behind his mask.

"Not now Techno." Crowfather growled.

"What? Thought that's what you wanted. He seems so willing to talk this out with you." Pig snorted.

" Fuck off! I'm not talking about shit. Let me go!" Nestling screeched. 

Lizzie shook her head. Dumb-dumbs. All of them so dumb! She really was the only smart one in her whole flock!

Even out The Flock! She didn't know where they were right now, but she was sure if she looked they would all be doing something so silly without her to guide them.

She glanced away from the window, curious if Barbara had claimed her vengeance on Pogboy or if the latter had escaped. Though she couldn't spot them, something else caught her attention.

The Flock was swarming around something off in the distance. It looked like whatever it was was approaching the cabin. A threat, maybe? She sat up straighter, her attention drifting fully to The Flock and away from the screaming match occurring inside.

The Flock did not seem angry. They were not diving at the mysterious thing. Nor were they releasing alarm calls. So it must not be a threat. Though, if it wasn't dangerous, why were so many of The Flock gathering around? The only ones they ever do that for were inside already-

Oh. The realization slammed into her like a window. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh yes, oh yes!" Lizzie crowed out, forgetting she was supposed to be quiet. She remembered right after when she heard Crowfather's squawk from inside.

Lizzie twisted around, meeting Crowfather's gaze.

"Ugh, Phil. Get your birds out of here." Pig groaned. What a grump. 

"Lizzie?" Nestling croaked. Lizzie cooed, feathers ruffling in delight.

There was a caw off in the distance and Lizzie remembered who was arriving. She perked back up.

"Here! Yes, yes he is!" She bobbed her head. "Happy and painful but good. Still good!" 

Crowfather frowned. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"What's it saying?" Pig asked.

"Lizzie isn't an it!" Nestling shouted because Nestling was the best. But Lizzie was still focused on the cawing growing louder as The Flock approached with him.

"Come! Come! He's here! He's here! Happy happy!" Lizzie cackled. Crowfather wasn't standing up though. He was still just watching Lizzie with a confused expression.

"Who's here? What do you mean?" Crowfather demanded. Ugh, was he really that dumb?

"Someone's here?!" Pig growled standing up suddenly. Lizzie was surprised at his intelligence. 

Nestling tried to stand up as well, but Crowfather stopped him, pinning him into the blankets.

"Get off!" Nestling shouted but Crowfather paid him no mind.

"Techno-"

"On it." Pig was storming out the door already, ignoring Nestling's shouts to be released.

Lizzie gave Nestling one last coo before taking flight. She didn't really want Pig to be the one to follow but he was still Crowfather's flock and he would help.

The wind carried her up and up, circling the cabin as she waited for The Flock's arrival. The entire Flock. Because he had come back! He was home!

She noticed Pig rushing out, glinting axe in hand and Lizzie dove down to meet him.

"Wonderful, yes? So, so good!" She slowed herself and landed on a nearby fence post. Pig did not look at her, staring around at the swarming mass of birds. All of them were crying out greetings and chattering excitedly to the newcomer.

The group was close enough that many took off ahead, joining Lizzie on the fence or finding other perches in the area. It thinned The Flock out enough for Lizzie and Pig to get a good look at.

"Is- is that-" Pig stuttered.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Lizzie laughed. "Welcome home!" 

"Hello Technoblade!" Ghostbur waved.

Chapter Text

Technoblade rushed out of the nest with little fanfare. The fucker completely ignored Tommy's shouts and demands to know what was happening, the door clicking shut with a ominous sort of finality.

It was just Tommy and Phil left in the nest. He was uncomfortably aware of the older avian sitting behind him as Tommy glared at the door. He was tempted to try and make a break for it right now. Sure, it would make his punishment worse but, really, it wasn't like it would be pleasant already.

"Tommy," Phil's voice was calm but that wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Dream could sound just as calm as he would pluck his-

The memory made Tommy realize his wings were facing Phil. He quickly twisted around. Just in time, it seemed. Phil was leaning forward, a hand hovering in the air. 

"Fuck," Tommy cursed under his breath, scrambling further away. "Stay back! Stay away from me!"

Something Tommy never noticed before was Phil's reaction to Tommy's demands. The shithead never respected them but Tommy couldn't come up with a time Phil looked angry at Tommy's outbursts. Maybe sad, but usually Phil would give him a smile and coo, softening the terror and frustration without Tommy's permission.

He only realized this when that smile was absent. When Phil looked angry.

The emotion wasn't foreign but it had never been pointed at Tommy before.

"Tommy," Phil growled, standing abruptly. "don't you dare go out that door."

For a moment, the confusion outweighed the panic as Tommy tried to figure out what Phil meant. Then, he became aware of the hard surface his back was pressed against.

Oh. He was leaning on the door. 

Tommy hadn't actually intended on leaving. He doubted Phil would believe him, though.

He…also thought about it, even if he dismissed the plan. Tommy still considered it. Dream always said that counted. If Tommy hesitated before handing over his items, he thought about it too long. 

The anger was fading from Phil's eyes, softening to something more stern. 

"This is what is going to happen. You will come away from that door and sit with me until Technoblade returns. Do not make this difficult. Do you understand?" 

"Don't make this worse for yourself." Dream hissed, squeezing Tommy's arm. "You really want to test me right now?"

Tommy swallowed back the chirp without thinking about it. He pushed off of the door, dragging himself forward. The bird cooed and fluttered, settling down now that Tommy was crawling back into the nest. Yet his mind screamed with warning over Phil's anger. 

He couldn't bring himself to sit beside Phil, not with that look in the elder's eyes. One that screamed of stress and very little patience. He settled a few feet away, lowering himself slowly down onto the blankets. 

It didn't help his mood. Phil looked more relaxed with Tommy away from the door, but he was eyeing the distance between them with a frankly unimpressed air. Tommy's instincts whined at the tension remaining, and Tommy had to fight the urge to crawl closer to Phil and beg for comfort. 

The silence dragged on, grating on Tommy's already fraying nerves. He couldn't handle it.

Dream liked to do this too. Dragging out Tommy's suffering before his punishment even began.

The part that always hurt the most was that it worked.

"Well?" Tommy snapped. "The fuck are you staring at me for?!"

Phil didn't reply. Tommy could only hold the man's cool gaze for another minute before he broke. Glancing away, Tommy bared his teeth. 

"What?! What do you want?! I fucking- I'm in the nest! What else?!"

He didn't know why he felt so angry. Yelling was most definitely going to make his punishment worse but he couldn't stop. It was welling up inside him, bubbling over and spilling out without his permission.

"I'm wondering if you'd like to explain yourself. Why you thought running out into the cold in the middle of the night was a good idea, for instance."

"How about you go fuck yourself," Tommy snarled back. 

"You're upset-"

"I'm angry! " Tommy screamed, twisting back to face Phil. The man's expression was carefully neutral. The only thing giving away his mood was the thinning of his lips.

"I'm fucking- I'm angry," Tommy choked out again. To his own horror, his eyes began to burn and he felt his face heating up. His body was already preparing for his tears.

"Okay, you're angry. That's okay. Explain to me why," Phil leaned forward, eager. Yet he cut Tommy off when his mouth opened again. "I'm not trying to fight. I want to have a mature discussion. Tell me what I can do to help."

Let me go, was on the tip of Tommy's tongue, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the near desperation in Phil's eyes, or perhaps it was simply his words. 

Tommy can't remember the last time someone wanted to help him. Not even Dream had said that. Dream had wanted to make Tommy better . Which was arguably, well, the better solution.

Tommy was definitely taking Phil's words out of context. But he found himself softening regardless. 

"I…" 

Phil leaned forward even more, an eagerness crawling into his expression. Tommy, because he's an idiot, felt bolstered by the reaction.

"I don't understand…this. You. All of this. I don't fucking- I-" He clamped his mouth shut, turning away. His face twisted with frustration over his own stuttering. He can't even fucking speak right. He's so useless-

"Thank you. Thank you for telling me that."

Tommy looked back at Phil in surprise. Phil looked… relieved.  

"I think," Phil continued, "that I haven't done a very good job explaining our situation, have I? Is that why you ran?"

Tommy scoffed. " Situation. Fun fuckin' way of saying replace-."

The door opened unceremoniously. Tommy heard the knob click and turn and saw Phil's eyes widen in the same moment. 

"Phil, it's- uh..." 

Technoblade stopped in the doorway. His mask rotated as he surveyed the situation. Tommy, crushed in Phil's arms and large wings mantled around him.

"Didn't…didn't hear you, mate," Phil growled. Tommy couldn't help but shiver at the danger barely restrained in Phil's tone. Phil reacted immediately, adjusting his hold and thrumming lowly. Tommy felt his own tense muscles relax at the sound, bird-brain cooing over safe-relax-nest-content.

"We just got a little spooked there," Phil hummed. "Is everything alright?" His hand began to rub slow circles into Tommy's back, easing the strain in his wings he hadn't even realized was there. Tommy had the inkling urge to pull away but another thrum from Phil and the thought slipped from Tommy's grasp. 

"Yeah…we have a visitor, though."

The thrumming stalled along with the hand motions. The sudden ramping of tension dragged Tommy out of his instincts just as quickly as he had fallen into them. Fuck . He succumbed so fast. 

"It's not…look, you two better come downstairs." Technoblade didn't wait for Phil's response. It took a second for Tommy to process the hybrid's words. When he did, his head shot up at the same time Phil let out a small hiss.

"Techno-"

"Is it Dream? Is he back?" Tommy asked, almost breathless. A strange sort of anxiety curled in his gut. Dream came back for him! 

"No. It's not Dream," is all Technoblade offered in explanation. Tommy felt…disappointed. No, that wasn't the right word. Relieved? No, that must be wrong as well. Tommy could never be relieved that his best friend wasn't here.

"Technoblade. Explain." Phil interrupted Tommy's internal debate.

Technoblade looked…oddly uncomfortable. He was shifting from foot to foot and glanced behind him out of the room. The fuck? Who the hell was here that warranted that kind of reaction?

Technoblade sighed, shoulders slumping.

"It's Ghostbur."

Oh.

Vaguely, Tommy registered Phil inhaling sharply. 

"Oh," the man said. Ha. Jinx.

"Yeah."

Tommy swallowed, his hands slowly curling into fists. Ghostbur. He…why was he here? After he ditched Tommy and the party, the spirit never came back. 

Maybe he doesn't realize Tommy's here. Maybe he's still trying to avoid Tommy. The piece of shit coming to hang out with Technoblade and Phil while he thinks Tommy is left to fucking rot.

The anger washes over him all at once. Burning hot and fast and uncontrollable. Tommy finally gained the strength he needed to push away Phil's hold. The older avian didn't resist for once, his arms falling away to allow Tommy to sit up.

"Oh, I'll fucking come down there alright," Tommy growled, "where the fuck is the bitch?!"

"Tommy-" Phil sputtered and Tommy could hear him scrambling to his feet as well. He didn't bother to wait, storming past Technoblade into the hall. He glared at the hybrid as he passed, daring him to try and stop Tommy. Technoblade didn't. His mask swiveled as he watched Tommy pass.

He could hear the hurried steps of Phil as Tommy stormed down the hall and he sped up his own in response. If Philza tries to fucking coddle him right now, Tommy will rip his feathers out. 

As he stomped down the stairs, a familiar voice drifted up to meet him, humming away an equally familiar tune. For a moment, Tommy stalled, standing halfway down the stairs.

Suddenly, the anger fled him, replaced just as quickly by fear and anticipation. 

He- it's Ghostbur. The ghost that went with him to exile when no one else would. The last remnants of a man- a brother long dead. 

Tommy's stomach turned. He couldn't do this. What was he supposed to say? Hey, Ghostbur! Remember when you ditched me for weeks and didn't show up to my fucking party?  

What would Ghostbur say? What if- what if he didn't care?

"Tommy!" The stairs groaned and creaked as Phil rushed down them. "Don't run off like that."

Tommy scowled. He went two-fucking-feet away! "Piss off, Phil."

Phil, the dickhead, did not piss off. He laid a hand on Tommy's shoulder instead. Bird brain settled, urging Tommy to lean into flock. He wrenched himself away before he could sway into Phil's touch. His chest tightened at the loss of contact and his throat closed up but he forced himself to ignore it. 

"Tommy," Phil's tone gained an edge to it. Tommy knew it was a precursor to some stupid lecture. His lip curled as he rounded on the man. 

"What?! Leave me the fuck alone," Tommy snarled, feathers prickling up along his wings. 

Phil narrowed his eyes. "Don't forget you're still in trouble, mate." 

Tommy barely managed to repress a flinch at the reminder. Instead, he flared his wings, feeling the muscles shake and scrape at the motion. He was hyper-aware of how tiny they must look compared to Phil's but he refused to let that embarrassment show on his face.

"You don't have any fucking right ," Tommy spit back, "you're not my fucking father. Don't act like this situation isn't anything other than what it is!"

Phil's expression shifted, confusion apparent in his tone. "This situation- mate, what on earth are you talking about?"

For a moment, Tommy was hurt. But only for a moment. The anger replaced it soon enough and Tommy welcomed it with open arms. 

"Don't play dumb! I'm not fucking stupid! I know I'm only here because-!"

"Tommy!" 

Tommy's rant was cut off before it could truly begin. His gaze snapped away from Phil at the sound of his name, locking eyes with…

Ghostbur stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at Tommy with an awed look in his eyes.

"Tommy," Ghostbur gasped, "you have wings!"

"Why is everyone standin' on the stairs? This is not a meetin' room!" Technoblade complained from the top of the stairs. 

***

Tommy smacked at Ghostbur's hand for the fourth time. 

"Stop it," he hissed. Ghostbur only smiled and tried again, reaching for Tommy's wings.

"Oh, but Toms, look at them. They're so cute!" Ghostbur cooed, making grabbing motions at the limbs. Tommy growled and pointedly turned his wings further away from Ghostbur's reach. The spirit pouted, wearing a hurt expression. 

Phil cleared his throat, drawing the two's attention. He sat on the armchair across from them, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. It was a bit odd, seeing the man so far away. Phil usually was the one to claim the spot beside Tommy on the couch. Judging by the poorly-hidden annoyance, Phil was not the biggest fan of this change.

Ghostbur, either unaware of the awkwardness his seating choice made or just not caring about it, was happily trying to sneak another pet of Tommy's wings. Tommy saw Phil's eyes narrow for a moment but, surprisingly, there was no hiss of disapproval.

Interesting.

"Ghostbur, mate," Phil said, "it's really good to see you. Why are you- hm, what sparked the visit?"

Ghostbur didn't reply. He didn't seem to be paying attention to Phil at all.

"They're all fluffy…" he cooed. Tommy leaned away from the grasping hand.

"Phil's talking to you, Ghostbur."

"Hm?" Ghostbur blinked and finally turned his attention to the eldest avian.

There was a tightness to Philza's frame as he repeated his question. Something was obviously bothering the man, but he seemed to be trying to hide it. 

"Oh! Well, I was visiting L'manburg and looking at all the decorations- oh, they had so many blue flags! And it was just the right amount of wind that they were all flapping and nice and- actually, have you listened to the flap of flag? Like really listened to it? It's so satisfying. It's like flap-flap- hm, well, maybe more of a flip-flap -"

"That's nice, mate. By the way, why are you here?" Oop, there it was. Philza was losing his patience. 

Tommy observed the man with a sick sort of curiosity. It was rare to see him seem so out of sorts. Something about Ghostbur was setting him off. He was doing a rather good job at holding himself together, but Tommy had been here a few weeks now. Long enough he was starting to see the cracks in Philza's perfect mask.

"Oh! Dream said you wanted to see me!" 

"What!?" Phil cried out. Except, no- that…was Tommy. Tommy had shouted that.

Why was he….happy. Of course. He must be happy to hear about his friend. That's why he felt that twisting in his gut. It was nice to hear about Dream. Even from Ghostbur.

"What did he say exactly , Ghostbur?" Philza leaned forward.

"Well, he asked me how I was and I said I was good! I was looking at the flags and all the different colors- oh, they had blue flags, did you know that Dadza? And it was just the right amount of windy that the flags were flip-flapping- or flap-flipping? They make a specific sound when-"

"Thanks mate. Really interesting," Phil sighed, leaning back in his seat.

"I know! Dream liked them too. He said- um- well, I can't really remember that part? It's a bit fuzzy. I think I got a little turned around because he helped me find my way here. Thank goodness too. I don't know how else I would have found you! This place is all hidden and spooky." 

"So… you were looking for us," Technoblade said. His tone made it sound more of a question.

"Well, yeah! Dream said that…um," Ghostbur's brow furrowed. "Well, he said something about…flags?"

"That's…" Phil covered his face for a moment. He took a deep breath, his shoulders visibly rising with the action. When he spoke again, it came out in a rush of air. "That's very nice. I'm glad you liked the flags, mate."

Phil dropped his hands, and smiled at Ghostbur- oh, jesus. That…was the most fake smile he had ever seen Philza wear. But if his expression was already off-putting, his tone was much worse. 

"Was it cold? It's very cold out here." Phil's tone was gentle. But not the gentle Tommy had grown used to hearing him express. He sounded like he was talking to a particularly stupid child. If he was standing, Tommy was sure he'd be leaning down with his hands on his thighs, cooing at Ghostbur.

Yet, Ghostbur did not seem to notice. "Oh! It was okay. It was more the snow than anything. I melt when I'm wet, so- but that was okay too! Mushroom Henry is very sweet and she let me sit on her back-"

"What?" Tommy glanced sharply towards Ghostbur. Philza's odd behavior forgotten. "Did you say- Mushroom Henry?"

Ghostbur beamed at Tommy. "Yes! Oh, I should introduce you! I brought my friends! Have you met my friends? I have Friend, my friend and Mushroom Henry, her friend, but she's also my friend, and-"

"Where is she? I need- let me see her!" Tommy practically leaped off the couch, gaze darting around as if the mooshroom would pop out from around the corner. She didn't, of course, so- so she must still be outside. 

Well. Then, Tommy was going outside.

"Oh, she's over- hm…now, where did she go?" Ghostbur was muttering to himself, that familiar dazed confusion on his face. Tommy ignored the ghost. He'd right himself out in a few minutes. He always did.

Instead, he made a beeline for the entryway. He was going to see his fucking cow, damnit-

Technoblade was the worst man in the world. Absolute evil. No contest whatsoever. Tommy was sure of this when the hybrid stepped into his path, blocking the exit.

"You're not going out-"

" Fuck you! You're not keeping me from her-" Tommy snarled, lunging around Technoblade. He was caught by the midriff and he let out a screech. He was done with this bullshit! They weren't keeping him from Mushroom Henry! He won't let them!

"By the gods, you are so dumb," Technoblade growled. His arms were like steel bands keeping Tommy restrained but the teen fought against them regardless. "Tommy, it's literally below freezin' outside! You need a jacket."

Tommy's struggles slowed. "I…huh?"

"Despite what you apparently believe, you aren't actually immune to the weather. You don't even have shoes on, you moron."

"Fuck you," Tommy snapped on reflex. "Go eat a dick. Shove a potato up your-"

"Okay! Alright, Tommy, if you want to see your cow, you need to listen." Phil stood up from his seat, joining Technoblade and Tommy by the entranceway. Tommy's lip curled but he remained silent, glaring up at the older avian.

"You're still in trouble, mate. We're going to need to address your little…" Phil trailed off, his gaze drifting to Ghostbur. The ghost in question seemed tuned out of the conversation, poking at the books on the coffee table. Blue was already staining the wood and more was being spread on the book covers. Tommy smirked. Served the bitches right.

"You can go see your cow," Phil started again, drawing Tommy's attention. "But if you try to run off again, that's it."

Tommy curled his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms. A part of him wanted to shout that they had no fucking right to keep him like that. To lay out rules and punishments like some misbehaving child. 

But another part of him felt relief at the clear boundaries. And that gave Tommy pause. The relief itself was…fine. Tommy would rather know where the line was and how to avoid getting punished. But it- it was too familiar. Why was this so familiar?

Staring down at the floor, nodding his head to whatever the green-clad man demanded. Follow the rules, Tommy. Why can't you just listen, Tommy? Why do you always make things so difficult?

A chirp bubbled up, the bird inside him shying from the thoughts. He bit back the sound, ignoring the discontent he felt while holding it in.

Tommy glared at his shoes, trying to hide his battle with his instincts as disobedience. If he started fucking chirping now, Phil would do his stupid responses and set Tommy off even more. He can't deal with a whole damn instinct spiral. Not with Mushroom Henry literally a doorway away.

He can do this. For Mushroom Henry.

"Tommy?" Phil prompted.

Tommy closed his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he spoke.

"Fine."

Chapter Text

Tommy refused to acknowledge Philza. The man was dead to him. Dead as a zombified piglin. Deader than that.

"You look like a penguin," Technoblade snickered. 

Okay. So Philza wasn't as dead to Tommy as Technoblade was. Good to know.

"Think of them like mittens. Your wings are too sensitive to temperature changes, so-"

"Genuinely die. Like, go find a lava pool to bathe in, yeah?" Tommy growled, very firmly glaring at anything except the others around him.

It had taken another grueling thirty minutes to actually get out of the house. Because Philza was a god-damned mother hen and apparently Tommy will simply keel over and perish if even an inch of his skin is exposed to air!

But Tommy knew how to pick his battles and, well, it would be kind of ridiculous to protest wearing a coat in the middle of the tundra.

But then Philza had pulled out what looked like ridiculous large socks. Almost like a stocking for Christmas. 

Half the time it took to get ready was spent arguing about wearing those- those wing-mittens. They were ridiculous! Phil didn't wear those! And it didn't help that Ghostbur was cooing over how cute they looked all "snug like a bug in a rug! Oh, Toms, they're so tiny-!"  

Oh, yeah. And Technoblade was laughing at him. The absolute fucker.

"Stop! They're fucking on!" Tommy slapped blindly at the hand he felt tugging at the wing coverings. "Can we go?! Fucking hell…"

"I'm just making sure they aren't too tight-"

"No, no, he's right Phil. Let's go. I wanna," Technoblade snorted, his shoulders shaking with barely restrained laughter. "Kid says he's ready, so he's ready."

The piglin hybrid didn't wait for Philza's response. He opened the door, still snickering and walked out onto the porch. Phil muttered to himself, hesitating beside Tommy. He looked like he was debating adding another damn layer on Tommy. The teenager was quick to chase after Technoblade, not giving Phil the time to make up his mind. 

It- oh gods, that felt weird. The cold couldn't reach Tommy, which was a nice improvement from the last time he was outside, but everytime his wings twitched or shifted, he was ever aware of the coverings around them.

 His wings tried to stretch, the cloth around them an uncomfortable sensation. That's when he heard Technoblade laugh even louder.

"You look- this is the best, oh my gods." The hybrid was leaning on the porch fence, shoulders shaking. Tommy could feel his face heating up at the humiliation.

"Look at the little gloves…" Someone cooed behind Tommy. He whipped around with a glare, expecting to see Phil. But the eyes he met were a faded brown instead of blue. 

Ghostbur smiled, quickly snatching his hand back to his side. It didn't fool Tommy. He knew the man was reaching for his wings again . What was up with Ghostbur?

"Alright, where the fuck is my cow? Stop fucking staring at me and show me where you left her!"

Ghostbur tilted his head. "Left who?"

"Are you- Mushroom Henry! Where is Mushroom Henry?!"  

"Mushroom- Oh! Oh, that Mushroom Henry!" Ghostbur giggled. "Wow, Tommy! How did you know I brought her?"

"Oh my fucking god," Tommy groaned.

"Relax. I left 'em over here. C'mon," Technoblade waved his hand, stepping down the porch steps.

Tommy hurried after him, eager to have the attention off his ridiculous outfit. He only had a few minutes of freedom though, before he felt the - unfortunately- familiar sensation of feathers dragging across his back. Phil's wing pressed Tommy closer as he plastered to his side. Tommy shot him a glare but said nothing. He wasn't going to start a fight about clinginess right now, not with Mushroom Henry just around the corner.

It had nothing to do with the fact that his bird-brain felt soothed at flock- Phil so near. 

…

Stupid fucking bird-brain.

Tommy's attention snapped back to the present by a familiar 'moo.' Philza's clinginess forgotten, Tommy gasped. 

"Mushroom Henry!" Tommy raced forward, not registering anything else as he dove for his cow. The mooshroom moo-ed again, tail wagging. Tommy laughed, wrapping his arms around his pet's neck. She was too large for his arms to wrap fully around so he made up for it by pressing his face into her side as well. He felt the hot puffs of her breath on his back before she pressed her chin on top of him. 

Tommy's heart warmed. "I missed you too," he whispered.

"Oh…" 

The pleasant atmosphere shattered by the prodding at Tommy's wings. He growled, reluctantly releasing Mushroom Henry to turn and glare at the offender.

Ghostbur didn't even have the decency to look cowed. He beamed at Tommy, hand still outstretched. 

"I missed you, Toms," Ghostbur repeats Tommy's words. Whether he is aware of this mimicry or not, Tommy doesn't know. But the nickname twists something in his gut. 

"Yeah, feelings not fucking mutual," Tommy snapped.

The guilt settled in quickly though, when Ghostbur's smile fades. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Tommy glanced away, shifting his feet. The boots he's wearing fit much better than Technoblade's had. Tommy had been a little creeped out that they had had his size at all but he at least made the mental note that they existed. Good for a future bid for freedom.

"Thanks for bringing me Mushroom Henry," Tommy mumbled, still not meeting Ghostbur's sad gaze. It was the closest thing to an apology he would allow himself. Ghostbur left him . Tommy refused to feel bad about being angry.

But you should. Look where anger got you. Everyone left because of your anger, Tommy. You never listen. All you do is yell and drive them all away.

Tommy focused on petting Mushroom Henry.

"You're welcome! Dream said you'd miss her!" Ghostbur, seemingly having already moved past his minute sadness- blues, as he would say - joins on Tommy's other side, petting Mushroom Henry's flank.

"Dream said that?" 

Ghostbur hummed an assent. "He saw me with Friend and asked if- oh! Have you met Friend? Oh, Tommy, you must meet Friend! He's the best. Friend is my friend, you'll love him! Come on, come on," Ghostbur suddenly began tugging at Tommy's arm, pulling him away from his mooshroom!

"Oi- Ghostbur!" Tommy reached for Mushroom Henry as he was dragged away. The mooshroom, because she was simply the best, plodded after them. Never too far away from Tommy's reach. 

They passed Technoblade, who was leaning against a fence post. His mask swiveled as he watched them go by, but remained silent. Tommy spared a scowl at the hybrid. He was still fucking pissed at this fucker.

Technoblade just tilted his head. Still silent, but Tommy could practically feel the amusement radiating off of him.

"Hello, Friend! This is Tommy. He's my brother!" Tommy looks away from Technoblade, his gaze landing on a…blue sheep? 

Or, no. Tommy could see the white wool peeking through. But the top layer was so heavily stained with blue dye, it was easy to miss at first glance.

'Friend' blinked at Tommy, baah-ing gently. Ghostbur made an excited sound.

"He's happy to meet you! Look, look Tommy! He's blue! Friend is the best, he takes away all the blue and makes you happy. Here, try!" Ghostbur grabbed Tommy by the wrist, dragging him even closer. He pressed Tommy's hand into Friend's flank, guiding him to run his hand up and down through the wool.

"Isn't that better?"

Tommy glanced at Friend again, double-checking the ram's mood. He looked unbothered, sniffing at the ground for any stray weeds that managed to poke through the snow.

"Yeah, it's nice big man," Tommy said. He couldn't actually feel the wool through the glove on his hand but he didn't see a reason to ruin the spirit's good mood. Ghostbur hummed happily, finally releasing Tommy's wrist. When he pulled away, he saw his glove was stained with blue, similar to Ghostbur's own hands. Well, not his glove, not his problem. 

Actually…

"Y'know what? You're right, Ghostbur! This is nice. Pretty fuckin' pogchamp, if you ask me," Tommy smirked, plastering himself over the ram's back. Friend didn't even twitch. The thing must be used to antics similar to this from his owner. Tommy took great pride in rubbing the formerly pristine clothing all over the sheep's dyed wool.

"Yay!" Ghostbur giggled, scooting closer. 

Tommy should have expected what happened next. His wings twitched as he felt the spirit touching them again . This time, Tommy just rolled his eyes. It wasn't like Ghostbur could actually touch Tommy's wings through the ridiculous socks on them. And, as a bonus, maybe Ghostbur would stain them as well, ruining them with more blue.

Tommy glanced back towards the cabin, his curiosity getting the best of him. Philza, surprisingly, was not stomping over in a rage. Though, now that Tommy thought about it, that didn't seem like the avian's style. 

Actually, he didn't seem to get angry often. Last night being the exception. 

Right now, Philza was watching Tommy and Ghostbur, standing beside Technoblade. Now that he was paying attention, Tommy could hear the deep vibrato of Technoblade's voice. Though, he couldn't make out the words.

Technoblade lifted a hand, placing it on his friend's shoulder. Philza pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

After a moment, possibly sensing the eyes on him, Philza's gaze locked onto Tommy's. He quickly glanced away, not wanting to invite the man to ruin his fun. Tommy wasn't sure why Philza was being so lenient right now but Tommy was going to take advantage of it.

"Ghostbur," Tommy kept his voice low, not keen on any eavesdropping. "Do you think you could help me?"

"Hm?" Ghostbur was petting Friend again, but his head tilted to indicate he was listening.

"Phil…" kidnapped me, Tommy almost said, but he hesitated. He wasn't sure how Ghostbur would respond to that claim. He could panic and whine about 'sad' and 'blue' and run off, or, worse, he might try to insist that Tommy was misunderstanding the situation and go snitch to Phil.

He needed to be careful if he wanted to use this.

"Phil has been feeling pretty blue ," Tommy chose his words carefully. "I want to do something for him, but it's gotta be a surprise, okay? You can't tell anyone. "

Ghostbur turned to Tommy, nodding quickly. He looked excited. 

"Okay!" He said loudly. At Tommy's shushing he repeated in a lower volume. "Okay…what should we do?"

Tommy glanced back again, double checking Phil was still distracted. "Well, I was thinking-"

A sudden, sharp sound caused Tommy to jump. He gasped, whipping back around to face…ugh.

"What do you want?" Tommy glared at the crow perched on the fence-line. From the way it drooped at his tone, Tommy was sure this was Barbara.

Barbara let out a low, mournful warble. Tommy just glared harder. "Don't fucking act all sad and shit now, you traitor!"

"Tommy, why are you yelling at a crow?" Ghostbur glanced between the two for a moment before he perked up. "Oh! Is this the surprise? Does Dadza like when we yell at crows? He does that a lot too!"

Ghostbur placed his hands on his hips, his chest puffing out as he sucked in a deep breath. " Hi Crow! I'm going to yell at you! You have nice, black feathers!"

Ghostbur paused, sending a searching look towards Tommy. Barbara's feathers were fluffed with agitation. She looked visibly shaken by Ghostbur's volume. Despite his anger, Tommy felt the corner of his mouth twitching up.

Even though Tommy didn't respond, Ghostbur must have seen something to indicate approval because he had returned to shouting at the bird. The longer it went on, the more visibly uncomfortable Barbara seemed. And yet, she did not fly away.

It was almost comical. Ghostbur was leaning closer and closer, shouting compliments and random observations alike. While Barbara was awkwardly sidestepping along the post, trying to put distance between herself and Ghostbur.

Tommy couldn't help it, he laughed. It was more of a snort, really, but Ghostbur looked at Tommy like he had just won a prize. 

"Okay, that's- you can stop Ghostbur. That's good," Tommy snickered. He felt a nudge to his side and absentmindedly reached out to pet Friend.

"Having fun?"

Immediately, Tommy's good mood dissipated. He scowled, not bothering to look at the intruder- because Phil was very much intruding at the moment. The crunch of snow was the only warning Tommy received before he felt a warm wing laying across his shoulders. Again.

"Why? Come to ruin it?" Tommy crossed his arms, still refusing to look at Phil. He glared at Barbara again, remembering that this was technically her fault. He wouldn't have to deal with this shit if she had just let him go. He'd be long gone by now, free to…to...

His anger faded, replaced with an uncomfortable uncertainty. What would he be doing right now? He couldn't go to L'manburg. He's still exiled.

Would he go back to Dream?

The thought felt cold. Colder than the tundra he was currently trapped in.

"No, just making sure you aren't cold," Phil, unaware of Tommy's internal conflict, had started poking at Tommy's clothing. Tommy was shocked back to the present when Phil's cold fingers brushed his neck as he was fussing with Tommy's scarf.

"Fuck off! I'm not a fucking doll!" Tommy slapped at the hand before he could think better of it. It took everything he had not to flinch away after, especially when Phil frowned. 

But Phil did not retaliate. "Well, I think we've been outside long enough. Don't know about you, mate, but I'm feeling the chill."