Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Techno woke with a groan, shifting on- well, on whatever was beneath him. A bed, presumably. He was… leaning against the headboard? Or- no, he wasn’t. He was leaning against something, but it definitely didn’t seem to be the headboard that he had, or the matress at his house. Nor any other that he recognised, if his memory served him true. It may well have been a hospital bed, it was certainly uncomfortable and starchy enough, but the reason that he’d find himself in one eluded him. As far as he could recall, there was no reason for him to be in the hospital right now. Nothing in his memory suggested an injury recent or severe enough for this.

Which, it soon occurred to him as he thought about it for more than three seconds, might not be the most reliable source, as Techno wrinkled his brow in an effort to remember what exactly had happened. Or where he was. Or what had led him here. Rather worryingly, he came up blank on all three fronts.

He pulled away from the wall as he sat up properly, back cracking loudly as he did so. Jesus, that wasn’t good. It begged the question of exactly how long he had been here, if his spine was making that sort of noise. Usually, it took a good few hours of him laying around and dissociating before it even came close to making sounds of that volume. His long, pink hair hung limply down his back, and he brushed it away from his face with a groan. Fuck, he was parched. The blanket — or at least, what Techno assumed to be a blanket, due to it being a vaguely oval-shaped sheet of some sort of uncomfortable fabric, which in his mind was close enough — that was covering him seemed scratchy, and confusingly lumpy in places. Regardless of the strange situation, he pulled it up to his chin, shivering in the cold.

…Which, thinking about that one for a few more seconds, was also a cause for concern. He was cold. Technoblade didn’t get cold. He was the sort of guy that ran warm no matter the weather, and he had something of a knack for keeping his temperature well-managed. This was alarming. In response to the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach and the swirling typhoon of uncertainty in his mind, Techno slowly opened his eyes. The confusion, fear, and alarm only grew as he still failed to recognise the room he was in despite the visual aid.

Okay. No, that was fine. New house- he wasn’t stupid, he remembered that much. They’d moved house. That- that explained why he didn’t recognise the room. They’d only moved in a few days ago, hell, he still hadn’t unpacked anything more than his clothes, it was no surprise that he didn’t recognise the place in the dark.

But then he rubbed his eyes and looked around, and promptly came to the stomach-churning realisation that this wasn’t his new room either. Admittedly, it was difficult to tell in the dark, but Techno was pretty sure he’d remember if his new room was made of stark silver metal. He had a knack for remembering places — human GPS for a reason, right? —, and it was becoming alarmingly evident that this wasn’t anywhere he knew. It didn’t seem to be a hospital, either; there was a significant lack of beeping machines, and no hospital he’d ever been in had their beds on the floor. Not unless some major disaster struck, an earthquake or a typhoon or a zombie apocalypse which left the machines unplugged and the beds floor-bound, none of which were exactly what one might call a common occurrence in the outskirts of London. So, in one big long-winded conclusion, he probably wasn’t in a hospital.

It took a few moments longer for his eyes to adjust to the darkness further, and he soon realised that he’d been right in his initial assessment of the room. Silver walls, silver floor — plain. Incredibly plain. The room seemed to be made entirely of some smooth metallic material, and the only noticeable object in the room was a wide pipe protruding from the ceiling, looking almost like a hollow shower-head. Right. Maybe he had fallen asleep in a bathroom, then?

But that didn’t make sense either; he didn’t recognise this bathroom if it was one, and he was pretty sure that most bathrooms weren’t made out of aluminium. Perhaps he was being stupid, perhaps he simply needed to look around more and it would become clear that this really was just the bathroom in the new house. Maybe, well, maybe the slightly gross sage-green tiling of the new bathroom was just… somehow out of sight. Maybe the mouldy carpet by the toilet was just… hiding around a corner.

Techno stretched his arms above his head and yawned widely as his mind raced with possible solutions. It was the bathroom. It was just the bathroom. It had to be just the bathroom. He was stalling, to the best of his ability, knowing somewhere deep in his stomach that he was being foolish to hope. That, when he looked around, it would not be the sage-green tiling of the new bathroom that he saw. Techno turned his head slightly to the left and found the space in front of him to be almost completely empty, bar the rug-blanket-thing he was using as cover and the weird shower-looking object in the opposite corner. No sage-green tiles. Even more strangely, there didn’t seem to be any windows from what he could tell — no doors, nor any toilet or sink or other typical bathroom items to fuel his theory. No, but rather, the room seemed completely and utterly bare.

A low humming sound could be heard, almost like an overworked computer fan, though Techno couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed to be… well, it seemed to be coming from all around him. At any rate, it didn’t exactly help Techno in narrowing down where he was. Definitely not a bathroom, though, that much was becoming increasingly undeniable. He turned and pushed himself up onto his knees, groaning a little as he glanced around. Fuck. It was bloody cold. Still, he continued to swivel his head, intending to figure out if there was anything to clue him in as to where he was on the wall behind him as opposed to one of the three in front of him or to either side, before he froze. The wall wasn’t there. There was no wall. Which didn’t make sense, given he’d been leaning against it, or at least something, just moments before. But no, it was gone.

Or, rather, upon closer inspection (AKA Techno throwing himself at the mysterious and apparently unseeable wall with intents of getting the hell out), there seemed to be some sort of invisible barrier between him and the winding corridors that he could see just outside. It wasn’t glass — at least, not normal glass — as proven after his repeated hits hadn’t shattered, or even so much as cracked, it. There was still no clear door, and running his fingers along the barrier failed to reveal any hinges or divots. Throwing himself at the barrier proved to be fruitless, the only information he got from it being that a bluish hue appeared on the wall wherever he slammed against it.

Okay, so, in conclusion; this was decidedly not the new house. Techno was pretty sure he’d remember if it had weird magic barriers that looked like something out of a sci-fi film, unless his parents had gotten a last-minute renovation. He certainly didn’t think it was a medical centre either — he’d been right when he first looked, it didn’t look like any hospital he’d been in before. And Techno was fairly well-versed in hospitals. No, this was somewhere else. Where, exactly? He had no idea. Which, surprisingly enough, wasn’t exactly helpful. 

It took him a few minutes — a few minutes of futile whacking and pummelling — but soon enough Techno gave up his attempts to break through the wall, instead dragging his meagre bed, if it could be called that, to the corner, which was as far from the weird wall as he could physically get it. He sat down on the rug with a sigh, rubbing his goosebump-covered arms. Gods, it was cold, incredibly cold. Not cold enough to kill him or anything, but definitely cold enough to be uncomfortable. Just cold enough to make his fingers tingle when he didn’t move them for more than thirty seconds. And Techno could do nothing but sit there, confusion slowly morphing into a dull fear as he realised the severity of his predicament. Stuck in a strange room, no clear way out, and cold as hell. With no clue where he was, or who had put him there. Or when he’d next get something to eat. 

Luckily, it only took a few minutes for his final question to be answered, as the shower chute looking thing in the opposite corner began humming loudly, rattling like an old tin can full of marbles. Immediately, Techno was on his feet and staring at the chute, hands curled instinctively upwards to cover his ears. The sound continued for about ten seconds, before cutting off abruptly as something tumbled onto the floor with a loud slap and an accompanying clang. 

Techno didn’t approach whatever it was for a minute, still staring apprehensively at the chute. It continued to look like a hollow shower-head.

When it remained silent, nothing else emerging for the duration of his stare, he darted forward and grabbed the pair of fallen things off of the ground before retreating back to his corner as fast as he could. Looking at the two objects clutched in his hand, Techno hummed in surprise. One, the metal thing that had made such a loud crash, seemed to be some sort of bottle, like one of those thermos flasks that always cost a fortune. Shaking it revealed it to be full of some kind of liquid, making Techno’s mouth go dry as he realised he likely hadn’t drunk anything in at least a day. 

Still, he set the flask down. He didn’t even know if it held water, let alone if the people who’d brought him here had tampered with it. Electing to leave the bottle alone for the time being, Techno instead turned to the other thing he’d grabbed. 

By his best guess, it was probably food. Or, well, it was probably supposed to be food. It looked like the astronaut rations he’d seen once in a museum, some sort of meat-looking thing held in an airtight packet with no clear label. He hesitated, not wanting to give in so easily, but the grumbling of his stomach was quick to win him over. Surely no one could fuck with the contents of an airtight bag, right? Well, okay, he knew that was bullshit, but before he could hesitate and listen to his better judgement, Techno tore the bag open. Sue him, he was starving.

He was barely able to grab the food before it went flying across the room, the bag having been much easier to open than he anticipated. It looked dry, stretchy, and frankly unappetising, with a strange purple tinge to it. It reminded him distantly of beef jerky. Mouldy beef jerky. But Techno had nothing else to satiate his rumbling stomach, and bit into the maybe-meat with a grimace. It tasted just as bad as it looked, oily and chewy, and Techno had to force himself to swallow. But it didn’t seem to kill him, at least not yet, and Techno would rather go out on a full stomach anyway, so he scarfed the rest of it down before he even had time to process the horrible taste. The saltiness of the food made him even more thirsty, and Techno eyed the thermos bottle longingly.

Still, he didn’t reach for it. Why that was, exactly, escaped him somewhat. He’d already eaten the probably-poisonous beef jerky, what further harm could some likely-lethal unidentified liquid do?

Maybe it was the principle of the matter. An attempt at maintaining what little dignity he still could. Techno couldn’t spot any cameras about, but he had no doubt that there must be some somewhere. His captors had an invisible wall, for crying out loud, they certainly had some sort of surveillance system.

]I[

Techno was still huddled in his corner, about four or so hours later by his guess (though his time perception had never been the greatest, so for all he knew it could well have been half that time, or double) when he saw the movement. In a flash, he was on his feet again. The person — no, the thing, because whatever it was could not be anything close to a person — rounded the corner, and Techno felt his face drain of colour.

The creature that walked towards him was no human. No animal he’d ever seen. It — they, maybe? Techno was pretty sure they were sentient, so ‘it’ felt rather cruel — was about average height. Well, average height for humans, so perhaps a few inches shorter than Techno was. Which was… absolutely terrifying. That was about where the similarities ended. The creature's skin was a pale, sickly green. Their neck was long, bent into an unnatural curve. Their eyes were massive, like pits of darkness dug into their skull, and a thin mouth seemed to glow across their face in a horrifying grin. Six arms protruded from the creature; one pair in the normal place, one from their hips, and one from mid-way up its back. It was… well, Techno could only describe it as a monster.

The creature seemed startled to see him awake, stepping back in what Techno could only assume was fear, as if Techno wasn’t the one kidnapped and shut in a cage. They pressed a button on the wall, letting out a number of loud and anxious chitters. Almost immediately, three more of the creatures rounded the corner, all staring at Techno in a mix of shock, fear, and disgust. 

One, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid if the other creature's reactions were any judgement, stepped forward, smile unnaturally wide. Techno threw himself at the barrier, snarling at the thing. Any hint of courage in the creature dissipated instantly, and they retreated back to their friends with a hiss. Also falling away from the wall, Techno revelled in his small victory, momentarily shoving away the unfiltered fear that had been flowing through his veins.

It returned just seconds later, however, as the weight of the situation finally sunk in.

He was trapped in Gods only know where, with a bunch of creepy alien-monster looking things breathing down his neck. He didn’t know how he got there, nor how to get out. Hell, he didn’t know if he even could get out. Holy shit. It was- what was happening?

And, on top of all of that, the alien-monster things seemed scared of him, which didn’t make sense. Sure, Techno was pretty tall and decently strong, but at the end of the day he was still an underfed, freezing cold sixteen-year-old. Not particularly scary, at least in his own opinion. But if the green fucks wanted to believe different, then who was he to argue? If it saved him from whatever they had planned when they presumably took him, then he’d do everything he could to keep them like that. But even his meagre defence could only last so long — only so long before they’d find a workaround, or discover that he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as they thought. 

And when that inevitably happened? Techno was absolutely fucked.

Chapter Text

If his maths was right (which it probably wasn’t given there were no clocks for him to keep track with, not to mention the fact that he’d always been an English and history kid anyway), about a week had passed since he first woke up in the room.

That was, of course, assuming that weeks still existed wherever this place was. That time was passing at a rate that even vaguely resembled the one he was used to. And that the creatures were consistent on their lighting. And that he hadn’t slept through multiple lighting changes, or counted the same one twice. Based entirely upon that set of, rather large, assumptions, it seemed that a schedule had been solidified. Techno, in his many monotonous hours of boredom, had managed to count — roughly — the hours of lights out that the creatures seemed to keep. If he was right — which was still just as unlikely as before —, then the green creatures seemed to expect him to need a full twelve hours of sleep, which Techno found almost laughable. 

And every day, right as the lights flicked on, a packet of food and a flask fell down the chute. Every day, he ate them. He’d even started drinking from the flasks, which did turn out to be (admittedly slightly metallic-tasting) water, when he began growing weak from thirst. Still, he saved some of both the food and water every time, hiding it under his rug, which made for a less-than-comfortable bed each evening.

Then, after that less-than-enjoyable escapade came to an end, most of his day was spent huddled in his corner, snarling at the creatures whenever they came into eyesight. Luckily, none of them had tried to approach all too much, so his plan seemed to be working decently well. Still, it was a beyond boring way to spend his days, and Techno had taken to braiding and re-braiding his hair to pass the time. Goodness, he missed his books. And his phone. Hell, he even missed other people. Now that one was worrying.

After the day was done and a few minutes before lights went out, the chute would rattle once more as a flask and packet of jerky (as Techno had dubbed it, despite highly doubting that it was actually beef jerky) slid down it. Again, he’d eat and drink most of it before sliding the rest under his blanket. If they didn’t give him something else soon, Techno was slightly worried he’d develop scurvy or something. Maybe that was why he’d been taken, some messed up human experimentation thing. Then, of course, the lights would shut off, and Techno would be left alone in the darkness with nothing but his thoughts for company. 

]I[

So far, Techno had learnt many things from his time imprisoned, the first of which being that the green creatures had incredibly brittle bones. On the few occasions that they’d actually tried to get into the room with him, Techno had snapped their many limbs with alarming ease. Rather like uncooked pasta. A slightly disgusting comparison, but disturbingly accurate. Although Techno didn’t exactly have experience with spaghetti trying to kidnap him, so he couldn’t really comment on how it would feel to snap pasta in a high-stress situation like that one. 

But all that was beside the point. Either way, the creatures seemed to get the hint’ after a few days they stopped trying to enter the cage, instead settling for just staring at him and taking notes, occasionally flinching away as he growled at them. 

Techno’s second discovery, which was arguably much more terrifying than the creatures themselves, was that he seemed to be on some kind of spaceship. A completely real, definitely not human, sci-fi kind of spaceship. And yes, admittedly this seemed like a rather large leap of logic, but it wasn’t! Okay, sure, some of it might have been fuelled by his sleep deprivation — sue him, it was hard to rest while still uncertain as to whether or not the aliens would try and kill him in his sleep —, but that wasn’t his only basis for the seemingly impossible answer. His memory, which had evaded him for the first few days, was slowly returning. Far too slowly, in Techno’s opinion, but he was getting there. And, yeah, definitely a spaceship.

The last thing he remembered was walking; walking through the city, observing and memorising the streets that he would now have to become acquainted with, noting down any fun-looking hangouts as well as what areas seemed better to avoid. It had been late, maybe nine in the evening, Techno having snuck out when the yelling inevitably began. His sister was at a friend’s place, and the shouting wasn’t even that bad, but still. He’d rather be out of the house. The roads had been dark, quieter than usual. That probably should’ve been the first giveaway that something was wrong, but Techno had shrugged it off, assuming the less familiar part of London was just quieter than most. He turned down a street, humming under his breath. 

The beam that appeared from the sky was not something that Techno was quite so quick to brush off. It glowed directly on to him, as though a streetlamp directly above him had just flickered on to a thousand times its strength, so bright that Techno had to shield his eyes from the light. He stepped back, trying to escape it, but found his feet to be hovering a good eight inches off the ground. Panicking, he tried to grab the wall, the bins, the alley cat floating alongside him, something, anything, but instead found himself unable to get a grip good grip — even on the terrified cat, for what little good that would’ve done him — and slowly being pulled upwards. 

Techno was sure he struggled, he never had been one to give up without a fight, but that was about where his memory blanked out.

And then he woke up in the room.

So he’d say it was a pretty safe assumption to guess aliens. Which, a week ago, would’ve made him laugh out loud, but right now he was at his wits end. He’d literally been scooped up by a hovering light beam, like a cow from some crappy sci-fi flick. And if that wasn’t proof enough, almost everything else about this place just screamed stereotypical alien spaceship. The metal sheets that made up the walls, ceiling, and floor; the constant thrumming sound of engines; the seemingly airlocked doors that opened and closed at the end of the hallway; the fucking aliens walking in and out of them. It was either a spaceship, or some really, really, weird and grossly fleshed-out kidnapping. And his current more realistic theory, no matter how much it hurt to say, was the former.

With nothing else to pass time, Techno found himself lost in his head more than he might’ve back on Earth. Thinking of home. Not of a house, necessarily, but instead of his planet. Was he really just… not there anymore? If he really had been taken by aliens — which, Gods, was not a sentence he ever anticipated having to say — then he was seriously doubting that he’d ever see Earth again. Never see the same grass, the same sky, the same shitty streets he’d spent most of his life wandering around. Never again see his ratty copy of The Art of War. Never again hear his little sister begging him for a story before bed. Never again go to the stupid corner shop just down the road from his school.

Perhaps fortunately, this day — as he’d decided to continue calling them for simplicities sake, despite being uncertain as to whether or not they were actually ‘days’ — was not one where he was given the opportunity to disappear into his memories. Less than an hour, at least as far as he could tell, after the first delivery of food, a group of aliens stood outside the door. They looked braver than usual, barely flinching as he slammed his fists into the see-through wall near them. They seemed to be waiting for something, a fact that alarmed him greatly, and it wasn’t long before Techno found out what. 

A new creature rounded the corner, causing Techno’s struggles to falter. This one stood at least seven feet tall and sported eight muscly arms rather than the usual — well, ‘usual’ was a loose term here — six. But other than that, this one looked to be about the same as the others. They were probably the same species, just really jacked. Did these aliens have bodybuilders? If so, this creature was definitely one. Techno only hoped their arms were as easy to snap. 

The creatures chittered amongst themselves, snapping and clicking in their weird alien language, while Techno stared up at the eight-armed one coldly, doing his best to mask his apprehension. He scrambled away from the barrier as it slid open, the eight-armed alien being shoved towards him. It growled, and Techno backed further towards his corner. Crap, okay, so this might be where he died. Great.

The alien lumbered forward, reaching out to him with a three-fingered hand. He snarled, stepping closer to the thing. It didn’t step back. The other aliens were still chittering outside, the eight-armed one occasionally snarling harsh responses back at them. It wrapped its three digits around Techno’s upper arm, and he twisted away from the creature painfully. Not as painfully for him as it was for the creature, however, a satisfactory crack coming from its arm as it roared. 

Yes, he concluded, its arms were just as easy to snap.

But he wasn’t given much time to revel in his victory; one of the other aliens poked a grey stick towards him in one quick motion, sending a pulse of electricity surging through him. Techno felt his legs start to give way, and, panicking, he thrashed around, dragging the brutish alien down with him. The other aliens immediately began clicking frantically, and dragged the eight-armed alien away from him. 

Techno grinned through the daze, hardly even registering the feeling of another alien sending a bolt of electricity towards him. It hit home, a renewed wave of pain following as he shuddered, and Techno knew he’d have a problem fighting off any more. Before that fear could sink in, though, relief coursed through him as the aliens retreated. Eight-Arms was yanked swiftly from the cage, and the barrier between them snapped back into place. He let his head fall back, groaning as he tried to crawl towards his rug.

He only got about half way before the darkness that had been lurking at the edge of his vision finally crept forward and wrapped around his eyes. Barely conscious, Techno’s head hit the floor with a dull thunk. He blinked, attempting to dispel the darkness, but it just kept pushing. A moment later, it consumed him entirely and he fell into an uncomfortable sleep.