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Techno has a weird look on his face. Tommy can’t place it. Not that Tommy’s typically very good at identifying expressions, but this one is… especially odd.
It almost looks… forlorn? Concerned? Which is impossible, because Technoblade hates Tommy’s guts and would kill him in a heartbeat.
Speaking of which. Tommy takes a slow step back, gaze darting around. They’re in the middle of a forest, so- maybe he can run and hide in a tree somewhere? Techno’s armor looks too heavy to climb a tree. Of course, Technoblade is good at everything, so he probably could climb a tree effortlessly even with several dozen pounds of armor weighing him down.
So- maybe he can… find a hole to hide in. Tommy’s small, he can fit in little holes. Except Techno has an unparalleled sense of smell, so he’d be able to find him in an instant. So maybe-
“Your hair,” Techno says. Tommy jumps at the deep baritone of his voice. Techno sounds weirdly- strangled?
Because Tommy is an idiot who wouldn’t know how to shut his mouth if the devil himself told him to, he curls his hands into fists and says, “what about it, bitch?”
Techno’s lip curls, exposing more of his left tusk. Tommy tries his damn best not to flinch back, but it’s a losing battle. “It’s dirty.”
Which, first of all, rude. Yeah, Tommy’s hair is a little dirty. His whole body is a little dirty, on account of the fact that his dirt shack doesn’t have running water and therefore he can only take a shower when he’s at Tubbo and Ranboo’s. Yeah, it’s got a few tangles (mats, more like) and a few sticks stuck in there and also maybe some lice. But that’s not his fault, and how dare Techno talk about it like he’s not the one who blew up Tommy’s fucking country and most of the places he could bathe.
Tommy glares at Techno, arms crossing over his chest and nose pointing defiantly in the air. “And? Sorry I haven’t been able to wash it on account of, oh, I don’t know, my fuckin’ country being blown up.”
Techno makes a displeased grunt. Tommy hates the fact that, unlike Techno’s facial expressions, Tommy is very good at distinguishing the meanings of Techno’s various piglin noises, the result of a childhood growing up near him.
Tommy isn’t fast enough to dodge when Techno reaches for him. Well, he is, but he’s not exactly expecting Techno to grab immediately for his… hair? Techno’s fingers thread through the strands, the crease between his eyebrows deepening when his fingers snag on knots in the blond strands.
Tommy doesn’t move, too shocked still to move. He half-expects Techno to grab his skull and crush it like- like a watermelon or something. He doesn’t. He just gently runs his fingers through Tommy’s hair, picking out sticks and leaves and whatever the hell else is in Tommy’s hair.
The displeased rumble gets louder. Tommy flinches, trying to sink down into himself. Techno’s fingers tighten on his hair, and Tommy tenses, because this is it, this is where Techno crushes his skull-
An arm slips around his legs, and suddenly Tommy is upside down, draped over Techno’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Tommy freezes, eyes open wide in shock, unable to comprehend what the hell is going on.
Techno has already started walking by the time Tommy remembers to start thrashing around in panic. “Wh- fucking- let me down!” he yells, thumping his fists on Techno’s back.
Techno just grunts. Of course the fucker can take Tommy’s blows like nothing. “Stop squirming, runt,” he says.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, bitch?” Tommy yells, squirming more. “You can’t fuckin- take me to a secondary location!”
Techno just huffs. Unfortunately, because, as mentioned, Techno is good at everything, Techno manages to carry Tommy all the way out of the forest despite Tommy’s best efforts. Tommy briefly stops wiggling when he becomes suddenly and brutally aware of what direction they’re going in.
“What the fuck!” he yells when they cross the threshold to the arctic.
“Shush,” Techno says.
It isn’t long before Techno’s little cabin comes into view. It looks- exactly how Tommy remembers it: quaint and surrounded by animals. Techno makes a beeline for the cabin, ignoring how Tommy starts screeching bloody murder.
Is Technoblade gonna murder him in his basement or something? It seems uncharacteristic, but Techno’s done worse things. Maybe… maybe Techno’s gonna hold him hostage?
Good luck with that. There’s no one on the server who would give a shit if Tommy suddenly vanished.
Techno has to hunch over to get both himself and Tommy through the door. He dumps Tommy onto the couch, runs a hand through Tommy’s hair again, then leaves the room after looking Tommy dead in the eyes and saying “stay.”
Obviously, Tommy does not do that. He knows from experience that Techno’s house is annoyingly difficult to escape when he wants it to be, but Tommy’s an expert at escaping Technoblade’s house. He checks the door and window first (locked) and is just looking around the room for something to break the glass with when he once again feels himself get picked up.
Tommy shrieks as Techno carries him into the bathroom. He has just enough time to register the basin of steaming water before he’s unceremoniously dumped in it.
He yelps as his butt hits the bottom of the basin. Water splashes over the side, landing on Techno’s nice polished floors. Tommy knows they are nice and polished because he used to mop and polish them. Weirdly, Techno doesn’t look perturbed by his nice polished floors getting covered in water as Tommy thrashes around in the basin.
Because Techno dumped him in with all his fucking clothes on, his pants and socks are soaking wet, and his shirt is pretty quickly going down the same route. At least Techno had the foresight to remove his shoes before setting him down on the coach earlier.
The water is… surprisingly nice? Tommy was expecting Techno to, like, boil him alive or something, but it’s just… nice. Warm, but not too hot. Tommy hasn’t had a warm bath in… honestly, he can’t remember the last time.
Techno prevents his attempts to squirm out of the basin with one hand while the other rifles through a nearby cabinet. Tommy watches as he pulls out a bottle of- something. Poison? Acid? Is Techno gonna poison him and leave him to drown?
“Stay still, runt,” Techno huffs as he turns back to Tommy. Tommy pushes himself to the far back of the basin, as far away from Techno’s grabbing hands as possible.
Unfortunately, the basin isn’t very large, so it isn’t very difficult for Techno to grab the back of Tommy’s neck and pull him forward. Tommy squawks as Techno manhandles into a seated position right in front of him.
Techno grabs a nearby empty bowl and dips it into the water. Tommy tries to move away as he brings it towards Tommy’s head, but Techno shoots him a glare that freezes him in place.
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as Techno brings the bowl right over his head. Is Techno gonna- gonna bash his brains in with it? Is it filled with poisonous spiders or snakes or something? Is- Is-
Techno pours it over his head, and it’s just… water.
Techno is exceedingly gentle as he pours the water over his head. Tommy dares to blink his eyes open just in time to watch Techno set the bowl down and pick up the bottle from earlier, tipping it over and pouring what looks like some kind of cream into his hand. Tommy shakes his head, sending a few water droplets flying across the room. Techno just glances at him and raises an eyebrow.
This time, Tommy isn’t fast enough to try moving away as Techno rubs his hands together and then lifts them to Tommy’s hair. His fingers gently comb through Tommy’s hair, spreading the… shampoo?
It… it feels kind of nice. People don’t touch Tommy all that often, so any touch tends to feel ten times more intense. The gently pressure on his scalp, the cool touch of shampoo against the warmth of Techno’s palms- it’s nice. Really nice.
Tommy’s eyes flutter shut. The repetitive motion of Techno’s hands is lulling him into a warm daze, fuzzy and soft.
Techno’s hands disappear for a short moment. Before he has the mind to think about it, a whine escapes Tommy’s throat at the sudden cold air hitting his scalp. Techno chuffs an apology, and if Tommy was more awake he’d be very embarrassed at how he instantly relaxes at the sound.
More warm water is gently poured over his head. Techno’s fingers gently work the shampoo out. Tommy cracks open his eyes in time to watch very brown water drip from his hair into the basin. Techno gently picks out leaves, sticks, and anything else he can find in Tommy’s hair and sets them down gently on the floor next to the bottom of shampoo.
Techno rinses his hair out three more times, stopping to drain and refill the basin after the second time. Tommy contemplates running away while he’s doing so, but… but it kind of doesn’t seem like Technoblade doesn’t want to hurt him?
And if he does, then- then maybe it’s okay to die like this. If his last memories are soft and warm, maybe that’s okay.
It’s certainly better than the other times he’s died.
Once Techno is done rinsing and the water comes out of Tommy’s hair clear, Techno sets down his little bowl and turns back to the cabinet. He rifles through it a bit more while Tommy watches, blinking sleepily and leaning his arms and head on the edge of the basin.
And then Techno pulls out a bottle, uncorks it, and Tommy smells poison.
Potions of poison have very distinct scents. With enough skill and resources, you can reduce the scent until it’s practically nonexistent, but clearly whoever made this potion didn’t bother to do so. It’s certainly not the strongest scent he’s every heard, but it’s still decidedly poison.
Tommy scrambles to the back of the basin. “Wh- what the fuck is that for?” he demands. Techno glances up at him.
“Relax,” Techno says. “It’s very dilute. It’s not strong enough to hurt you, but it’ll kill anything living in your scalp.”
Tommy blinks. “Um- I don’t-”
Techno rolls his eyes, then does the unbelievable: he tilts his head back and lets a bit of the poison drip into his mouth. Tommy watches as he swallows exaggeratedly, watches for the telltale signs of asphyxiation and panic that follow the ingestion of a potion of poison.
They don’t come. Minutes pass, and Techno doesn’t appear affected in the slightest. Techno may be insanely strong, but even he isn’t immune to poison. So then-
So then he must be telling the truth.
Tommy reluctantly slinks back to the front of the basin. Techno chuffs approval, which Tommy will never admit makes his chest swell in pride. He closes his eyes again as Techno pours some of the diluted poison on his head.
Techno works it into his hair just as gently as he’d done everything else. Tommy isn’t used to associating those massive hands with anything other than death and pain, but they’re soft as they gently scratch at his scalp. The poison makes his scalp tingle a little bit, but, true to Techno’s word, it doesn’t hurt.
Tommy falls into a daze sometime between Techno pouring one last bowl of water over his head and when Techno gently pulls him out of the basin and into his arms, seemingly uncaring of the way Tommy immediately gets his nice silk shirt sopping wet.
Techno grabs a towel and begins to rub Tommy’s hair dry. Tommy leans heavily against Techno’s chest, exhausting setting in. Techno wouldn’t mind if he… took a little nap, would he?
As his eyes flutter shut, Techno sets down the towel and leans his face on top of Tommy’s head, breathing in deeply.
“Perfect,” Techno rumbles as Tommy succumbs to the call of sleep. “You’re golden again, runt.”