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Tommy is close to ruin when the note comes.
Logstedshire lies smoking at his feet, tendrils of grey climbing into the sky around him. He sits at the top of a tall mountain overlooking the pockmarked land where he’d been exiled to a few months ago. Never has he felt more lonely.
He can count the number of visitors he’s had on one hand and the amount of friends he has left on a single finger. At least, that’s what Dream tells him — and Dream wouldn’t lie to him, he has no reason — and with every day it’s edging closer to being the truth. The only constant in his life now is Dream’s visits when he can spare some time in his “busy schedule.” Tommy doesn’t deserve Dream’s time anyway.
He disobeyed Dream’s rules, kept a secret stash of things carefully hidden away with the hope of being able to leave one day, but his frie— Dream found out. It was inevitable, in a way, but Tommy still had a childish hope that somebody would help him and when they did he would be ready with enough gear to escape exile. That flicker of hope died with his punishment: the destruction of Logstedshire.
So, homeless and once again alone, Tommy climbed up the nearest mountain and now he sits, staring off the edge and wondering if anyone would miss him if he jumped. He doubts his family would — Phil and Techno probably don’t even call him “family” anymore — and Tubbo clearly showed whose side he was on when he exiled Tommy. Would he even be remembered? Or forgotten and left to gather dust alone—
A soft flutter of wings accompanied by a crow’s caw shakes him out of his thoughts and Tommy glances sideways to see just that: a bird. But no ordinary one.
Caw! Caw!
Beside him, hopping up and down with urgency, stands a crow with a few white feathers dotted into each wing. One of Phil’s then , he thinks. Probably a mistake, seeing as he hasn’t been on talking terms with his father in a long, long time. Tommy sighs and turns back to the view, hoping that the crow will take off again and leave him alone to his depression.
It doesn’t. It lunges forward and pecks the hand Tommy’s leaning on, splayed across the grass nearest to it.
Tommy recoils, cursing under his breath and cradling his pecked hand. “The fuck d’you want?”
The crow hops around again, cawing louder than necessary and looking slightly pleased with itself. This bird is going to give him his fiftieth reason for jumping if it doesn’t shut the hell up.
Caw! Caw!
“Alright then,” he sighs, watching the crow fold and unfold its wings agitatedly, and goes back to staring at the smoke rising from the ruins of Logstedshire. Maybe—
Caw! Caw!
“Can’t you see I’m having a goddamn moment?”
Caw! Caw!
“I said, shut the fuck up!” he snaps half-heartedly, turning with the intention of shooing the bird away. It shifts its feet impatiently which draws Tommy’s eyes to its legs, one of which has a small piece of paper tied around it with green string.
“Ah, so that’s what you want.” Tommy should probably be more worried that he’s talking to a fucking bird but honestly, he doesn’t have any more fucks to give. He reaches for the note, untying the string and straightening the paper.
In cursive swoops, the recognisable handwriting of his father reads:
To Tech,
The Butcher Army is coming for your head. Stay safe, son.
~Phil
The first thing Tommy thinks is: oh, this letter isn’t even for him. The second is: what the fuck is the “Butcher Army?” And the third thing is: when was the last time Phil called him “son?”
Why was the crow so persistent about giving this letter to Tommy anyway? Technoblade is the one who needs it if this “Butcher Army” is coming to kill him, yet the crow has a knowing glint in its eye that tells Tommy it knows exactly what it’s doing.
Whatever this Butcher Army is, it must be threatening if Phil thinks Techno needs a warning about them.
Then again, it’s none of his business. The letter isn’t even addressed to him! He shouldn’t be poking his nose into the rest of his family’s business where it doesn't belong (if he can even call them family anymore, they relinquished that title when they betrayed each other several times). If Dream were here, he would surely agree with that sentiment.
“Your curiosity will kill you one day Tommy, and I can’t be here all the time to stop you from getting yourself hurt.” Dream would always say with worried eyes . Then his mood would turn on its head. “Did your old friends stop you from getting in danger?” And when Tommy didn’t reply, for fear of Dream’s reaction — it was always so hard to predict on those days — he’d smirk, “Didn’t think so.”
The real truth was that his old friends, Tubbo, Niki, Fundy, and hell, even Wilbur, would help him get out of the hole he’d dug himself into rather than try to stop his chaos before it had begun.
Tommy shakes his head to dislodge the confusing thoughts. He doesn’t like to think about Dream too much; the thoughts are all jumbled and confused in his mind as if they can’t quite line up in the right order.
What brought him onto that train of thought? Oh yeah, the letter.
It isn’t his to deal with, though he should probably send the crow back off with the note so Technoblade doesn’t die to this army, whoever they are. He wonders why he still cares about his brother, he’s betrayed Tommy, hurt Tommy enough over the years yet he still feels an obligation to help him. ( You have also betrayed Techno, a voice in his head whispers. And he still cares about you. Family is family through thick and thin.)
He rolls the note back up and reties Phil’s signature green string back around the crow’s leg; it looks like it was never touched, just the way it should.
As soon as the note is tied, the crow spreads its black and white wings and takes off into the air, flying off away from Tommy and towards the frozen wastelands of the north where he knows Techno lives. A single feather floats down, half white, half black. The only sign that the crow ever stopped.
Deciding to stretch his legs a little, Tommy picks up the feather, pocketing it before standing up, and looking back at the ruins of Logstedshire. Where was he in his musings? Ah, yes. Nobody would miss him, so what’s the point in living? He reaches a hand up to the sky, trying to touch the cloudless blue. Maybe , he thinks dazedly, dying in such a beautiful place wouldn’t be so bad.
When he withdraws his hand, his mind is made up. Then, just as his decision is clear, a headache strikes his head, driving all thoughts of jumping away, and he faintly feels his knees drop to the earth as the pain shudders through his skull, forcing his eyes closed and sending his hands clutching at his head.
He squints through his eyelids to try and find the cause of the pain but instead of a mountainside, he sees—
The main marketplace of L’Manberg, with its awnings out and a small stage erected. A group of people parade up the steps of the stage, leading behind them a person with chains binding their arms and legs together only loose enough for the person to shuffle forwards an inch at a time.
Tommy seems to be standing on some sort of balcony overlooking the square. He tries to move so he can see the group’s faces but his limbs obstinately refuse to budge. His attention is captured elsewhere as the prisoner comes into direct view, with the rest of the procession standing to one side, having chained their captive to a post. Shoulder-length, pink hair falls into the man’s face, slight tusks poke from his lips, and a lofty poet shirt sways in the breeze. Technoblade.
It’s then that noise filters into Tommy’s ears, an enthusiastic roaring, as he notices the crowd positioned in front of the stage pumping their fists into the air with a chant. “Blood of the Blood God!”
The battle cry his brother used, turned on its head and used for an entirely different purpose.
A machine is wheeled onto the stage as the leader of the group who led Techno in steps up onto a podium, grasping the microphone with a smile: Tubbo. “Technoblade has robbed our country of everything that made it special. He stepped in when he shouldn’t have. He created chaos. He destroyed the previous government.” There’s a dramatic pause as the audience hangs onto Tubbo’s every word. “This is not a trial, Technoblade. This is an execution.”
The machine is a guillotine, blade held aloft and poised, ready to swoop down and take a life. Technoblade’s life.
A chorus of screams split the anticipation and a heavily armed man draws his sword and lunges at the president. The rest of the cabinet step in, weapons raised as if they were expecting a fight, but the man dodges and ducks, expertly avoiding fatal blows like this whole execution is a game to him.
Tommy’s eyes are drawn to a figure who creeps out of the square’s corner and slashes Techno’s chains clean off, ushering him away around a corner. If his legs weren’t already rooted to the ground, Tommy would've been paralysed in fear, for saving his brother is Dream .
“You’ll owe me one,” Dream’s laugh drifts over the square, satisfaction only Tommy seems able to see lurking behind his eyes.
The execution scene warps and morphs into a darker place.
Blackstone walls surround him this time and it’s clear that this place is underground. Dream, beaten and bloodied, lies on the floor, heaving in breaths through wheezing lungs. Then Tommy sees himself, with familiar armour covering his chest and it hits him. That’s Dream’s armour.
The other him turns to another figure in the background that vaguely looks like Sam. “Lock him up.”
Blackstone turns into other, darker walls that cage in heat, letting it sit close to the skin, claustrophobic and uncomfortably hot in the confined area. Lava covers the only exit to the room and in the centre sits Dream, defenceless and weak on the floor.
Suddenly the glowing magma shifts, letting a figure carve through it like water and walk into the cell easily. “You called in that favour, Dream.” Technoblade stands, offering a hand to the blond who takes it with a smile ghosting his lips. Everything has gone his way after all.
Tommy comes back to his present self — present because he subconsciously knows that what he just saw is the future — and realises he’s lying on the floor. His first thought is that he blacked out and dreamt it all but no, dreams don't feel that fucking real.
His second thought is that he can’t let Dream escape that jail cell in the future.
Then the pieces slot together like a finished jigsaw and Tommy examines it from above. A “butcher army” is coming to kill Techno. Tubbo and his cabinet tried — will try — to kill Techno. Tubbo and the L’Manberg boys are the butcher army trying to kill Techno. He can’t let Dream save Techno from the execution otherwise he’ll use the favour he’s owed to break out of jail later on… He also can’t let his brother die, no matter their history with each other. Family is family, through thick and thin.
Tommy sits up, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “I’ll have to rescue Techno myself then,” he realises aloud, picking himself up off the floor and beginning the trek down the mountain in the direction the crow flew in.
Thoughts of jumping and ending it all have never been further from his mind in the entirety of his exile.
***
It’s all well and good deciding to be the hero (even though the word tastes bitter on his tongue), but it’s another thing to perform on that decision, Tommy finds out as he treks across fields and hills.
His clothes really weren’t made for this. With every day in exile, they were becoming more tattered and sewing patches on wasn’t his top priority with Dream hovering over his shoulder at all times of the day. The wet slush lying on the ground seeps through his shoes, weighing them down so every step Tommy takes feels heavy and it takes way too much effort just to lift his legs in the sodden material.
As he keeps walking onwards in, what he hopes is, the right direction, the slushy mud and rainwater becomes iced over puddles then snow. If he thought his shoes were heavy with water earlier, they’re way heavier now, and combined with the grey sky overhead promising rain within a few hours, the walk to Techno’s abode is looking bleak.
The odd speck of movement shows new wildlife that Tommy has never seen before, one type of bird here, another bunny-rabbit-but-larger there (he doesn’t know the name of that species), and a few sightings of polar bears off in the distance.
He may get distracted easily (Dream says he does so it must be true) but he knows he can’t get sidetracked this time. If he does, Techno will die. He just needs to warn his brother about Tubbo and the others coming for him, if the crow hasn’t already notified him, and maybe help him fight them off if worse comes to worst.
Who is he kidding, the Blade won’t need help fighting a few people — he’s fought whole battalions before and come out on top — plus you can hardly call Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and whoever else was in his vision an army since, to Tommy’s knowledge, most of them still don’t have a penny to their name. But if he does need help Tommy will be there, ready to defend his brother from his old friends because family means more than whatever he had with Tubbo.
Family is family, through thick and thin. He can’t let another member of his family get hurt again.
He keeps on following the vague direction in which the crow flew in, hoping to see signs of human life from the surrounding land but only blank white snow stares back at him. The two-pronged foot shapes of birds and small paw prints of foxes or wolves are the only things that mark the land, no Techno-sized footprints or telltale pointers that Tommy is even heading in the right direction.
Without warning, the snow a short distance away moves. Normal snow doesn’t move unless it’s falling from the sky or tumbling in an avalanche. This is decidedly not normal snow. This snow has four paws and thick fur and is going to hit Tommy head-on in a few seconds. He tries to get out of the white blur’s path but it just changes direction and by then it’s too late to move.
Instead of bowling him over, the not-snow shoves its body between Tommy’s legs and hauls the boy over his back in a slick manoeuvre so he is facing the tail end of the animal. The fur feels warm under his legs but he can’t pay any attention to that as he cranes his neck around in an attempt to see the creature kidnapping him.
He sees a blue collar stretched loosely around the polar bear’s neck and a small tag jingles as it bounces around. Tommy reaches for the tag, realising it’s fish shaped as he catches hold of it, and reads out the word on the tag.
“I’m gonna guess you’re Steve, then?” He asks, looking up to see the polar bear staring over his shoulder like he is judging Tommy’s every action. Steve grunts at him once in reply then starts moving again, almost throwing Tommy off his back in his haste to move. “Woah! What’s the rush, fella?”
Steve doesn’t reply this time and quickly picks up the pace, turning back the way he came with an undulating pace. Tommy has never ridden a horse before but he assumes riding a polar bear is similar and swiftly makes the decision that he doesn’t ever want to ride either ever after this. If he’d eaten any breakfast it would definitely be thrown back up onto the snow by now but all he’s had in the last few days is a few loaves of bread and the odd piece of fruit — it’s not his fault he gets distracted easily. Actually it is, who else’s fault could it be — but he can ask Techno for something to eat when he gets to where he lives, which is where he assumes Steve is taking him since no other crackpot would live out in the middle of the tundra and tame polar bears in their spare time.
Wait, why is Steve out here in the first place? Surely he should be with Techno, keeping guard, laying in wait for the L’Manberg execution team?
Tommy’s questions get answered soon enough as a spiral of smoke climbs into the sky from the chimney of a small house. Techno’s house. Steve slows down as they get closer but Tommy almost wishes he didn’t.
There are stains in the snow. Red stains in the snow . Blood. In the snow.
Several scenarios fly through his mind to try and pacify the worry coursing through his veins. That could be the butcher army’s blood and Techno could be inside nursing only a few minor injuries. There’s only one way to know for certain.
He slips off Steve’s back and gingerly jogs through the bloodied snow. He takes the front steps two at a time, and finds the door wide open. Not a good sign.
He stays on the threshold and knocks just in case but nobody answers and the silence suffocates him for a whole minute until he moves through the doorway.
Techno’s house lacks any type of order with trunks of junk lying in every nook and cranny of the building. There is a potion-brewing area with shelves of ingredients and antidotes above it and a fire in the hearth next to it. The logs on the fire are barely burnt, a sign that Techno didn’t leave long ago. There is a table in a kitchen corner along with several cupboards of non-perishable foods and a sink with a kettle letting a gasp of steam hiss into the air. Another sign that Techno hasn’t been gone long.
Tommy doesn’t care about any of that though. All he cares about right now is his brother. What happened here?
He is turning to leave when a flash of green catches his eye from a board of notes, lists and letters hung up next to the door. A piece of Phil’s string hangs up the warning letter from the notice board, pinned up next to a postcard containing a picture of L’Manberg on market day. That too must be from Phil so he is probably already in the town, ready and geared up to help Techno.
He walks out onto the porch and leans on the railing, not noticing the blood layered onto the wood until it’s spread all over his hand. He stares at the blood, trying to work out whose it is but all he sees is—
Techno rushes out of his cabin, armed with a sword and a belt full of potions at his hip and armour covering everything so no skin can be seen. He stares out into the frozen land, squinting to make out figures who are also wearing armour that gleams, in the distance.
His eyes don’t betray what he’s thinking as he strides out to meet them within the fence of his property. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, boys?” he calls out as he gets closer.
“We’ve come to escort you to your trial, Technoblade,” answers Tubbo at the head of the army with an axe held out in shaky hands against Techno.
Tommy watches from the porch as the pleasantries turn into arguing. He can’t hear exactly what’s going on, all he knows is that it’s chaos. Then, above all the disagreements, the shout of: “I CHOOSE BLOOD!”
All hell breaks loose within a few seconds as Techno pins Tubbo against the ground and is only just stopped from swiping his head clean off his body by Quackity. Fundy slides in from the side, watching his friends’ backs and parrying blows meant for their hearts but it isn’t enough to beat the Blade.
The only way they can win is by cheating.
Quackity realises this and sneaks away, letting Ranboo take his place in the fight. He grabs Carl’s leash from where the horse is tied up outside the cabin and yells out over the clang of metal on metal: “Drop all your shit Techno. Don’t make me ask twice.”
Tommy’s brother quickly complies, tossing all his gear into a pile at his feet with his eyes glued on the axe being held up to Carl’s innocent neck by Quackity. The rest of the army regroups, bringing out chains and slapping them on Techno’s arms and legs and tightening them so beads of blood form around the metal bands.
The red drips to the ground, mingling with that of the army as Quackity grins, using the railing to climb up onto Carl, then prods Techno to start moving back towards L’Manberg.
When Tommy comes back to himself this time, he knows he’s been standing still for way too long. The blood that once glistened against the whiteness, freshly spilt, is now seeping down into the deeper parts of the snow and a chill has raised pimples on his arms. He needs to get a move on.
He internally adds seeing the past to his list of things to deal with later, ignoring the other things that are already on there like seeing the future, then moves back inside the cabin. He scans the boxes of stuff, finding a few pieces of battered armour and the odd weapon, then moves upstairs and quickly realises that is where all the proper gear is kept.
Next, he brings out an axe which looks to have been sharpened recently and is too light-weight to be for everyday use — of course Techno owns a battle axe, he’s the proclaimed Blood God for fucks sake — and he straps it to his back in case things turn dirty.
Technoblade also owns a shit ton of potions, all labelled in a sprawling hand and organised into little rows. Tommy’s eyes skim over a few before he grabs a leather utility belt with lots of storage pouches and stuffs it full of useful items as quickly as he can. He needs to get onto the army’s tail before they get too much of a head start; he can’t waste much more time here.
As he is about to close the potion box, a particular bottle catches his eye, a beautiful lavender-lilac coloured liquid with silver flecks shimmers inside and Tommy snatches it up out of the box with interest. It is simply labelled as ‘Invis’, a potion Tommy hasn’t used before, so he plops that in another pocket and buckles it up, sliding the whole belt over his shoulder like a sash.
Satisfied that he has everything he needs, Tommy closes the last of the boxes and shoves a few logs onto the fire before leaving the cabin. Steve is already waiting outside and Tommy clambers up onto his back with little hesitance — even though it’s uncomfortable, he’ll have to make do as the polar bear is the quickest form of transport at the moment since Carl is still missing.
The ride is just as jaunty and undulating as the first trip but Tommy is more adjusted to it now and he pats Steve’s head every now and then in gratitude. When this is all over, he’ll ask Techno where he can get polar bear treats from and make sure Steve gets as many as he wants.
They reach the portal to L’Manberg with little fanfare and Tommy’s gut drops with the once-familiar feeling of Nether-travel. Dream forbade him to use the portals even before his stash of things was found so he hasn’t been to the hellish landscape for a while. He is now reminded of the many reasons why he doesn’t like the Nether.
Steve speeds up his pace a notch to get through the suffocating heat quicker and Tommy has to duck several times to escape the bolts from stray piglin. Ghasts screech overhead, promising fiery deaths to those who challenge them while soul sand forces them to take large detours. The Nether sucks, nobody will ever be able to change his mind.
Once they reach the hub of portals nearer civilisation, Tommy slows Steve down to a slow lolloping pace and grabs the lilac invisibility potion out of his belt.
Tommy hasn’t had invisibility before but Wilbur always used it to scare him in the forest they used to live in as a complete family when he was younger. (When they were all younger.) Wil always said it tasted bitter for a few seconds before turning into a sweet, sugary taste.
He downs the potion in one, remembering that the effects take hold quicker that way. A tingling sensation builds up from his toes all the way up his back and lingers there. Tommy frowns, he doesn’t remember Wilbur saying anything about pins and needles. He holds his hands out in front of him and waits for them to go translucent as Steve stops before the main entrance portal to L’Manberg.
The potion should be working by now. Maybe it’s faulty , he thinks but then a bone-shuddering pain builds up in his back and crawls over his shoulders. A stinging worm wiggles in between his shoulder blades trying to fight to the surface.
Tommy slowly slips off Steve’s back, his balance ditching him. He scrunches his eyes closed and lies on the hot bricks of the hub, wondering why the hell an invis potion hurts so much and hoping it doesn’t last much longer.
A sudden eruption of pain sends him writhing. He hears the worried snorts and snuffles of Steve next to him, then a wet nose trailing over his face, but can’t focus because the pain burns so badly. His mouth works silently, whispering apologies to Dream because the way this hurts is so similar to the times when he has stepped out of line.
Then, equally as quickly as it started, the pain stops. Tommy winces as the light of the Nether once again greets his eyes then he slowly gets to his feet. He still feels off balance, as if there’s a weight pulling his body back down to the ground.
He stumbles around a bit then uses Steve as a support, cursing all the way. The potion didn’t work, must’ve gone out of date (do potions even do that?!) or something.
While glancing around to check his cover hasn’t been blown, he notices something in the corner of his vision. Tommy spins around trying to follow the something-or-other like a dog chasing its tail before realising it’s attached to it. He realises that the something is a part of him.
He stops spinning. What the fuck?
He realises that the something is a part of him.
Tommy slowly turns his head to look as far over his shoulder as his neck allows in shock. What the fuck, he has wings!
White feathers bloom out of his back with red splotches smudged along the wingtips from the way they violently ripped through the skin. His mouth flaps open and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Whoever the fuck labelled that concoction as invisibility must’ve been either lazy or extremely sleep deprived. Actually, knowing Techno, he would probably label important substances while half asleep…
He flexes his wings out to their full span, quickly gaining fluidity in the movement. Prime, he’s going to have to pull off the rescue of his life on top of some newly found wings. That’s going to be hard, he realises, stepping through the portal with a very confused Steve following.
His stomach lurches with the dimension change then he steps into L’Manberg for the first time in a while. Closing his eyes, he breathes in the fresh air. It’s like coming home.
Except it isn’t home because the people who rule here are the ones who sent him away and right now they’re focused on hurting his family — again . He isn’t going to stand by and let that happen this time.
Tommy opens his eyes again, taking in the new decorations around the portal and the neatened walkways. They didn’t need him around to improve the town and maybe that’s a good thing seeing as he won’t be coming back for a long time. He’s sure they’ll understand, you know, people to see, family to reunite and all that.
Right, time to save Techno and then get the fuck out of here before Dream can catch him. He takes a run-up to the edge of the rocky hill that the portal is perched on then launches forward, stretching his wings out to catch him.
Steve thunders down the steps below — pah, imagine using steps — as Tommy soars across the sky above L’Manberg. Turns out, having wings is so much cooler than walking like a loser. He might as well put them to use while he has them since at some point the potion’s effects will run out and he really doesn’t want that to happen halfway through his operation.
Time to save Techno.
***
Techno is not enjoying this whole execution thing.
To be honest, he wasn’t really on board with it when he agreed to come. His pets were kinda held at axe-point so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, he just hopes Carl is okay.
He was brought into the main square where loads of people were congregating and the chains tied to his ankles were looped through a metal ring in the ground meant for tying livestock leashes to. Hmm, fun .
Tubbo strutted around for a bit, reciting speeches that Techno didn’t pay any mind to because he was busy trying to find a way out of this situation, then Fundy disappeared off into a house on one side of the square and came out into the balcony a few minutes later prodding a very resigned Phil.
Their eyes locked together, blue on red, and Techno struggled against his bonds being held by Quackity and some other guy. “Phil! Phil,” he yelled, getting his father’s attention immediately with the sound of his voice. “What did they do to you, Phil?”
Phil ran the rest of the way to the railing of the balcony, coal-black wings beating anxiously behind him, and leaned over before being pulled back by Fundy. “I’m on house arrest, mate. They put this ankle monitor on me so I can’t fly away!”
Techno tried to reassure the green-robed man that he’d be okay, that he’ll find a way out of this, but Quackity silenced him with a sword at his throat. Instead, he settled for eye contact as his father watched worriedly from up high.
He’s been standing, gradually getting more bored with every minute, since then, waiting for a moment of weakness from the army so he can get away. He glances around the rest of the square, at the crowd of people chanting for his death (it makes him slightly proud that so many people know his name), at Tubbo who is still reading a speech off a crib card (cringe), and at the corner alleys branching off in an attempt at an escape plan.
A flash of green catches his vision from one of the side streets and as Techno focuses in on the movement, his mouth twitches upwards. Dream stands, geared up and ready to take on L’Manberg’s dignitaries to save him. He motions to the other side of the square and Techno watches as Punz lets loose a volley of arrows from the neighbouring house’s roof into the crowd, sending them running off, screaming.
“End him now, Big Q!” Tubbo shouts from where he is countering Dream’s sword lunges with a battered axe.
Quackity’s hold on his own weapon tightens as it wavers closer to Techno’s neck then he is being barrelled out of the way by a blurry white shape. Wait— that can’t be right.
Techno’s pet polar bear, who should be a hundred miles away in the snowy tundra, Steve, knocks Quackity down onto the ground and sits on him, effectively keeping him out of the battle. Punz and Dream are still engaged in battle on either side of Techno as a whoop of joy is heard overhead.
“Heads!” is all Techno hears before a winged figure sweeps down onto the execution stand. For a second he thinks Phil has managed to get free then the person talks and Techno immediately knows who it is. “Looks like you’re in a tight situation there, Blade. Luckily I, Tommy Danger Kraken Innit, am here to save you!” Techno blinks in shock as the figure saunters into view. The sun shines off matted blond locks until a suspiciously feathery shape blocks the light.
Techno’s brow creases. “Tommy?”
“Yup, that’s me. Now show me where the padlock on your chains is.” Techno does so in a daze, watching as his little brother, who was last seen getting escorted from L’Manberg kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs, pulls a white and black feather that looks suspiciously similar to the feathers of the bird who delivered his warning letter from Phil from his trouser pocket and bends down to pick the goddamn lock keeping his feet from moving.
“You– You’re– You’ve–” He stumbles, dumbfounded as he stares at the angelic wings stretching from Tommy’s back in wonder. “What’re you doin’ here?”
Tommy only snorts. “What does it look like, dickhead? Rescuing you!” Good to see his baby brother hasn’t lost all his spirit in exile like some people have reported, though his eyes seem to glaze over every once in a while as if he’s not really seeing what’s in front of him.
“Why, though?” Techno asks as Tommy fumbles with the feather in the lock.
“Cuz we’re family, innit? And family’s family, through thick and thin.” Techno’s heart softens, even through everything he always cared about Tommy. It’s nice to know the blond feels the same way back.
A click announces that his feet have been freed as Tommy stands up and starts shoving the end of the feather into the keyhole of the padlock tying his wrists together. Techno kicks off the chains around his feet and then actually takes in the scene.
Dream and Punz are engaged in an epic 2v3 against the butcher army (Quackity is still being sat on in the corner), as Phil called them, and Phil himself is pacing the balcony of the house he’s trapped in, his wings mantling behind him in worry and fluttering as if he wishes he could do something to help. Another click a second later signifies Techno’s freedom.
Tommy steps back, flexing his wings again before whistling once. Steve comes bounding back over, letting a rather relieved Quackity up off the floor, as Dream seems to finally clock the fact that Techno has escaped without the smiley-masked man’s help. “Hey! What the hell are you— Tommy?”
“Uh oh… cover’s been blown, guess we’ll be leaving now!” Tommy grins as he grabs Techno around the waist and bends his knees.
“Wait, what do you mean leavi— AAAH—” Techno screeches as Tommy launches into the air with a few flaps of his snow-white wings. Techno heaves in a gasp of air as he tries to keep his stomach contents inside him. “Wait, we need to free Phil!”
He thinks he sees Tommy pout slightly then they land again on the balcony, Techno grasping the railing for dear life as his stomach contents almost leave him. “Tommy? How do you have—” Phil starts but gets interrupted.
“No time to explain, big man. We gotta go, now lemme pick your ankle shit!” Phil offers the foot that the massive, weighted anklet is clamped around and Tommy makes quick work of it, jumping back up in time to see Tubbo drop his weapon with a clang on the tiled square. “Tommy? Is that— Is that really you?”
Techno notices the pained wince on Tommy’s face as his younger brother grabs him again, ready to take off with Phil not far behind. “Wait! Tommy—!” Tubbo yells as Tommy beats his wings a few times, sending them speedily soaring into the sky.
Techno puts two fingers to his mouth as he stares down at the streets of L’Manberg from up high and whistles shrilly, pulling Steve away from the fighting. His paws thunder on the wooden bridge leading out of the city and Techno sighs a breath of relief. He’s safe. They’re all safe.
Phil glides next to Tommy, night-black wings occasionally fluttering to keep them on a straight track. “Mate, we have a lot of things to talk about when we get home, starting with how the fuck did you get wings? I swear it isn’t supposed to be genetic…”
Techno snorts. They’ll have their answers, though for now they can just be happy in each others’ company on the flight back home, a reunited family.