Chapter Text
It's dark as Phil walks home, the moon hidden behind heavy clouds that threaten more rain offers no light to help illuminate the empty streets. Only the faint yellow light of streetlamps, making the rain slick pavement glitter and shine, offers any light at this time of night.
No sane person would be out in the poorer side of L’Manburg this late. Many unfortunate ends have been met in the shadowed alleyways of these streets. Either by desperate people doing anything to make sure they live to see another day, unfortunate street kids or even those who just like to see the life drain out of a person's eyes.
Phil however, doesn’t need to fear such things.
He's known for his bleeding heart and kindness. As a doctor at L’Manburg General Hospital, he's everyone's go to for when someone gets injured or sick. He feeds the street kids and does his best to help them get on their own feet when they need it. He's kind and that's brought him protection.
So Phil walks tiredly through the streets of L’Manburg, pointedly avoiding the feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of his head like he does everynight. He’d been working a particularly exhausting shift that night, some of the big superheroes and villains had gotten into a big fight in the heart of the city and so he had to spend the rest of his day treating burns and cuts and broken limbs and a very nasty case of smoke inhalation.
Phil himself hadn't seen the fight on the news, much to busy saving people who had been casualty to it, but from what he’d heard, Siren and Blaze had been the instigators. Blaze, a pyromancer, had been the cause of the majority of the burns Phil had treated. Siren however, had seemingly sung away most of the civilians to safety.
An odd move for a supervillain but Phil’s not about to complain. It saves him from having to extract sewer water from patients lungs.
It's not a fun job in the slightest.
But finally with most of his patients stable, Phil can now go home, sleep for a grand total of maybe four hours before he has to go back and do it all again.
He's almost home when he hears it. A quiet and pained sniffle coming from the shadows of an alleyway completely covered by darkness. The sound is muffled, like whoever made it really didn't want to be heard, but Phils ears have always been sharp and it made his steps falter.
He is protected, yes, but not from his own stupidity. If he steps into that alleyway whatever happens is his own fault.
Another pained cry comes from the darkness and Phil throws all common sense to the wind.
Whoever is hiding in the dark is obviously injured and Phil can protect himself just fine anyway.
"Hello?" Phil calls softly into the dark, willing his eyes to focus on his surroundings without any light to help. "You ok mate? You're sounding kinda hurt and I just want to make sure you're ok,"
As expected, silence is the only thing he gets in return. He can't even hear this person breathe which is worrying.
"It's ok, I'm not gonna hurt you. My name is Phil, I'm a doctor."
Faint shuffling came from behind a dumpster to his left and from the darkness appears two glowing red eyes.
"You took a hippocratic oath," they say seriously.
"Sure did," Phil agrees, looking over the kid now in front of him. Their long pink hair is the first thing that grabs Phils attention but as he searches for any sign of an injury, he just notices the very recognisable suit they wear.
It's hard for Phil to connect the notorious villain Blood God and this scared and injured kid in his mind but while he might lack self preservation, he's also not a complete idiot.
It does make him wonder though. Blood God has been around for two and a half years now, but this kid in front of him can't be any older than 18 -- at a stretch.
It makes something in Phils chest ache .
"So you can't hurt me," the kid -- it feels wrong to call him Blood God when he looks so scared and vulnerable in front of Phils eyes -- continues hesitantly.
"Not if I wanna lose my licence," Phil agrees and gives him a small but hopefully placating smile. "Are you hurt?"
The kid nods.
"I can patch you up if you want, my house isn't far from here," he hums. "Or I can run and get my gear and I can do it here if that would make you more comfortable?"
Phil really hopes the kid will decide to come to his house with him. This filthy alley is hardly the place to be patching up any wounds. It smells of alcohol, cigarette smoke and rotten food from the dumpster the kid is still leaning on.
In fact now that he thinks about it, Phil worries that the kid might have gotten an infection in whatever wound he has from just being near a place like this.
As if sensing Phils train of thought, the kid hesitantly pushes himself to his feet, doing his best to suppress a wince as he stumbles forward.
"I'll kill you in the most painful ways possible if this is a trap," he hisses and then promptly passes out.
Phil hurries to catch him, now supporting the surprisingly light supervillain who is apparently a child in his arms. He hums, takes a moment to consider his life choices and then hooks one arm under the kid's knees and lifts him up. Very carefully, he hides their face in the crook of his own neck, hoping the kid's long pink hair will help keep his features hidden as there is no boar skull mask in the vicinity, before he starts the, thankfully, short trip home.
Ignoring the eyes in the shadows that bare into him a little more harshly, Phil struggles to unlock his front door with an arm full of supervillain but he eventually manages to do so and steps into his unlight house, kicking the door closed behind him with a satisfying thunk .
As gently as he can, Phil sets the kid down on his couch before closing his curtains and flicking his lights on.
Now that he can finally see, Phil sucks in a harsh breath as he looks at the ghostly kid. They're worryingly pale with sunken cheeks. Not to mention the dark stain of blood on their suit that is now visible and seeping through the jagged slash cutting through the material on their side.
Phils had to treat a lot of stab wounds in the past, but something about this one makes his throat close up.
Shaking his head, he hurries to his bathroom, finding his first aid kit in its usual place under the sink before returning to the living room and kneeling next to the couch. Blood God’s outfit is known for being regal and intimidating, but without the red cape, skull mask or crown he looks more like a sickly medieval boy. Phil keeps that comparison to himself though as he works to unbutton the ruined poet's shirt and lifts up the protective kevlar undershirt.
It's tricky trying to peel it off of the skin, the sticky blood acting as an unhelpful adhesive but once the kid's wound is revealed, Phil holds back a wince as he sees just how deep the cut is and paired with the amount of blood he's lost, by all accounts, Blood God should have died in that alleyway long before Phil stumbled upon him.
Shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand, Phil quickly starts cleaning away some of the blood smeared all over the kid's abdomen and cleaning the wound itself. Luckily it looks like nothing has gotten into the wound and there are no signs of infection and Phil is very careful as he stitches it closed.
The conditions in his house aren't ideal for something like this. The kid's wound could easily be infected by a number of things, not to mention his blood has definitely stained the couch and his clothes are dirty and his hair looks matted.
Phil desperately wants to help, but based on the conversation he had with the kid before he passed out, perhaps he shouldn't push any further and risk crossing any more boundaries.
He's already seen a supervillain without his mask and survived, now is not the time to be pushing his luck.
So Phil quickly bandages the wound and then starts cleaning up, throwing bloodied clothes and antiseptic wipes and his gloves into the bin, tidying away all of his equipment and returning his first aid kit to the bathroom. He texts his boss to tell him he's sick and won't be able to come in the next day before he finally falls into his bed and slips into blissful unconsciousness.
***
Techno startles awake with a harsh gasp, shooting upright and immediately regretting it when the action causes sharp pain on his side. He falls back onto the soft surface he had been laying on and looks down to see his abdomen bandaged and his shirt and protective gear pushed up to his chest.
It takes awhile for him to figure out where he is. Normally he would assume Wilbur had by some luck managed to find him before he bled out and dragged him home, but his twin would have taken his suit off and-
And there was no Tommy sitting by his feet, waiting for him to wake up with a worried look on his face that would turn into a bright smile when he saw Techno awake. Not to mention their couch isn't this comfortable and--
This wasn't their shitty apartment.
The thought is so startling. Techno huffs in a shallow breath, wondering how such a thing could evade him up until this point. Usually he's so aware of his surroundings and yet here he is, comfortably lounging on some strangers couch without a care in the world.
Suddenly he remembers the alleyway, and the kind man with blond hair and blue eyes who looked so similar to Tommy. The man had said he was a doctor with an oath to not hurt people and despite knowing that Techno was a supervillain, he still woke up in what was probably the man -- Phils -- home with no sign of the heroes and his injury properly taken care of.
That's not to say that the heroes are not on their way right now however, guessing by the sunlight lowly lighting the room from behind thick curtains, Technos been allowed to stay the whole night. It's still more kindness than Techno has been shown in a long time but who knows when that will run dry.
Biting back the dumb whimper of pain that tries to come out his mouth as he sits up again, Techno gently sets his feet on the cold linoleum floor below him. He needs to get out of here. Straining his ears, he can hear the faint sound of movement from somewhere else in the house which means either Phil is awake or he has some kind of pet.
Or he's being robbed.
That would suck, he’d no doubt blame it on Techno.
All the more reason to get out of here.
The only problem is, well. It's so very hard to move right now. He's exhausted in a way that's deeper than physical and he's injured which is less than ideal.
He needs to get out of here.
But he can't move.
Techno falls back onto the comfortable couch once more, a frustrated whine on the tip of his tongue. He needs to move. He has too . Wilbur will be worried sick about him right now, he has to let his twin know he's ok.
Approaching footsteps suddenly grab his attention and Technos gaze flicks up to the now open doorway to see the same man from last night standing there with the same worried but soft smile on his face.
"Hey mate, glad to see you awake and still here! I was half expecting you to be gone as soon as you woke up."
He says it in a joking manner and Techno can find no trace of anger in his voice or on his face.
Belatedly, Techno realises this man who’d rescued him. A doctor who had saved a supervillain off the streets, was wearing minecraft themed pyjamas.
Suddenly it was hard to be so scared of him.
"Hurts too much to move," Techno explains simply, softly, he avoids looking at Phil and instead focuses on the wall behind him. Body going rigid and heart hammering in his chest as Phil starts to approach him.
"I’m just gonna make sure you haven't pulled a stitch or gotten an infection," Phil explains as he kneels on the floor in front of the couch. "Is that ok?"
Techno doesn't understand why Phil would bother asking. It's not like it matters.
So he nods, despite how his skin itches under Phils warm hands and grits his teeth as he gently unwraps his bandages and starts poking at his wound.
"You're all good mate! I can get you a painkiller and if you want, you can get a shower? I should have some spare clothes you can wear and once you're done, breakfast should be ready."
Phil is a weird guy, Techno decides. Who would even offer to feed and clothe a street kid -- not even that, a supervillain , Techno has killed people before in cold blood. Phil must realise that. He has one of the most renowned and feared killers, injured and alone on his couch and here he is asking if he wants a painkiller and a shower.
Phil is weird. Phil is so so weird and his actions make Technos head spin but-
But Phil probably has warm water.
His apartment with his brothers doesn’t have warm water. They don't even have cold water because they can't pay that bill.
Techno doesn’t remember the last time he had a warm shower in a warm house with the promise of clean clothes afterwards.
"I’d like that," Techno admits quietly, almost afraid if he speaks Phil will suddenly rescind the offer and toss him outside.
Techno needs to let his brothers know he is alive. But he’s not about to turn down this kindness so willingly given when the world has not shown him any in a long time.
Phil leads him to a bathroom, gently helping Techno hobble along and showing him how the shower works, where the lock on the door is, he gets him spare clothes and a towel and then he leaves after reminding Techno to not get his stitches too wet.
The warm water on his skin is heavenly and the nice smelling shampoo and conditioner Techno hesitantly uses feel like the height of luxury.
He's always been rather fond of his hair, long and pink as it is. And he's always longed to be able to put in the time and effort and money to be able to take proper care of it.
Of course, living on the streets for half a year and then living a life of villainy make that hard, so Techno will settle for a stranger's hair products he's not even sure he's allowed to use.
He hopes Phil won't be mad. But if he is, Techno hopes he will be long gone by the time he realises.
Turning off the water and stepping out the shower, Techno quickly dries himself off and gets dressed in the oversized hoodie and loose shorts Phil left for him. His hair is a rat's nest sitting on top of his head and Techno looks longing at Phil's hairbrush before deciding against it.
Even Wilbur gets annoyed When Techno uses his hairbrush and Wil is his twin.
Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, Techno leaves the bathroom silently and begins to make his way to where he assumes the kitchen is. He can hear Phil moving around and the sizzle of a grill as well as smell whatever Phil is cooking.
Techno stands in the doorway, watching Phil as he moves around unaware of Techno watching hesitantly from the shadows. The blond seems comfortable, at ease. He doesn't look like he's waiting for the hero's to come knocking at any moment so Techno decides to make his presence known, his chest tightening when Phil gives him a kind smile.
"You're looking much better now mate! Do you wanna sit down and then I can get you some food?"
Techno just nods, swallowing the lump in his throat and moving to take a seat at the table in the dining room. He keeps a close eye on Phil as he potters around the kitchen, a small from finding its way to his face as he sees what Phil is cooking.
"You're not allergic to anything, are you mate?"
"I, um, I can't eat anything from pigs," Techno admits quietly. He expects Phil to get mad, to finally break his kind facade and for him to tell Techno to suck it up and be grateful.
But of course he doesn't do that. "Oh shit, sorry mate," he apologizes, "English breakfasts are my guilty please. Can I make you something else? Do you want cereal?"
"Cereals fine," Techno says.
Phils starts grabbing things from cabinets, placing a bowl, a spoon and a carton of milk on the table. "I don't have any of the fun stuff," he says, "just some plain Cheerios and old person cereal, any preference?"
"Cheerios are fine, thank you."
Techno doesn't understand why he's being so polite.
"Alright," Phil says with another small smile, or maybe it's the same kind smile he's always seemed to have. But he leaves the box on the table and then heads back to the kitchen, perfectly content to let Techno do his own thing while he cooks.
The silence between them is weird and maybe slightly awkward. Technos not used to such quiet, between Wilbur and Tommy constantly chattering and arguing about who knows what that day, he's not had to deal with quiet for years now.
He finds he doesn't like it as much as he thought he would.
Techno misses his brothers. An aching in his chest suddenly hard to ignore as he eats his cereal. Phil joins him eventually and as they eat together, Techno can feel the blond's gaze flick up to him before he looks away quickly, obviously not wanting to be caught staring. He has questions burning at the tip of his tongue but for some reason he is hesitant to ask.
"Can I ask your name?"
His name. Phil asks for his name. Not about his villainous plans or his motivations or why he chose to be a villain or anything like that, things normal people would ask him, things people have asked him before.
(reporters and journalists can be unbelievably nosey and fearless when they want to be.)
But no, Phil asks him for his name and continues to treat him as a person and not the monster he is.
"Technoblade," he whispers in answer.
"Technoblade," Phil repeats.
Techno nods and waits for Phil to mock his name, the name he chose for himself.
"That's very cool mate, unique! I like it. Can I call you Techno?"
And again all Techno can do is nod in response.
Phil is weird.
They finish breakfast together and Phil leaves their dishes in the sink before gently guiding Techno back to the living room, he goes willingly, letting himself sink back into the comfortable couch despite every part of himself screaming that he has to leave.
A gentle hand finds itself on his head, fingers threading through tangled pink strands and Techno stiffens suddenly.
"Do you need to brush your hair Techno? I can do it for you if it's too tricky?"
Oh.
Oh.
Techno has to stop himself from simultaneously gnashing his teeth at Phil and readily agreeing to the offer. No one gets to touch his hair. No one but Wilbur and Tommy are allowed anywhere near it. As much as something in his chest aches for Phils presence in every aspect of his life, the man is not family so he doesnt get to touch his hair.
"Can you..?" Techno says instead.
Traitor, he whispers venomously to himself.
"Of course! Let me just go and set up the guest bedroom first, can't have you sleeping on the couch for two nights in a row, ok?"
Techno nods before Phils words actually register in his mind and by the time they do he is already gone. Panic wells in Technos chest unbidden, breath suddenly coming short.
can't have you sleeping on the couch for two nights in a row.
Techno cant. He can't stay another night. If he does he might never leave. His mind is already twisted up after staying just a few hours at Phil's house with his kind words and considerate actions. He needs to leave.
Wilbur and Tommy probably think he's dead.
And that thought finally gives him enough motivation to stand up, to push through the pain in his side and the ache in his chest as he silently runs through the house and bolts out the front door. His suit left forgotten, his mask lost in some back alley. Techno doesn't even have shoes on, but still he runs.
Techno wishes he could say he didn't look back.