Chapter Text
Over twenty four hours, a whole day, had passed since Philza and Techno had been reunited.
Since Wilbur had been beaten to a pulp.
Since Tubbo, Fundy and Ranboo had gone missing.
Since Tommy had been kidnapped.
As Technoblade began to wake up, he was so sure he had been sleeping for months thanks to how heavy he felt, how loud and bright everything seemed to be.
“He’s awake,” a voice spoke up, soft and gentle “Hey mate... You with me?”
It took Techno a moment to adjust to the light after being in darkness for so long, deep in sleep.
His whole body ached, especially his abdomen, where he had previously been shot.
The last thing he remembered, he was in a van, with Phil and Wilbur. Techno was pretty sure he passed out as soon as he got in, but he wasn’t so sure, the blood loss had certainly gotten to him.
He leant into his father’s touch as he smoothed back his hair, letting out a huff of laughter.
There was a soft vibration ontop of his chest, leading him to meet eyes with the pure black cat, whom blinked slowly at him.
“Suppose they like you,” Philza chuckled, delivering a gentle scratch to the top of the cats head “Warmed up pretty fast as you’ve been recovering. She hasn’t left your side... Thinking she misses Ranboo.”
Ranboo?...
Oh. The kid that Tubbo—
Tubbo—
“Where are they—“ Techno hissed in pain as he leant up, letting Philza scold him quietly, helping to lay him back down, brushing his hair out of his face, shaking his head.
“Come on, mate, you’re still in awful condition... Bad and Puffy are going to go looking as soon as the hoard has passed. Ranboo and Tubbo are smart kids, they’ll find somewhere to hide and wait... I know they will.”
Techno could hear the uncertainty in his fathers voice, and that just seemed to make everything so much worse.
If even his father was worried, someone who, yes, worried often, but was very good at hiding it, then clearly it wasn’t a good situation. None of this was a good situation, to be fair.
Tommy had been kidnapped.
Fundy and Tubbo were missing, right as a hoard had been passing through.
Wilbur was...
“Is—“ Techno hesitated, holding his breath “Wilbur. Is he... You know...”
Philza’s face dropped slightly, nodding slowly as he gently took Techno’s hand into his, rubbing it gently with his thumb, “I’m not going to lie to you, Techno... He isn’t in good condition. We managed to stabilise him thanks to how fast we got here. Puffy and Hannah? I think that’s her name, they helped save him... He’s still not in the clear though, not just yet, Techno.”
“Niki is with him right now. The poor girl hasn’t left his side... She’s very nice, she actually baked some cookies for you.”
Techno had expected that answer, quite honestly. The last he saw of Wilbur, he was covered head to toe in blood and injuries, he had looked like a corpse already.
The way he laid limp, his skin pale and cold, the way his mouth was slightly parted, his chest barely rising with every breath he took.
He wondered how he looked right now...
at least he wasn’t alone right now, even if he was unconcious. Techno didn’t want his younger brother to feel alone and scared.
Techno wanted to see him, his heart was hurting. Only being with Wilbur could help that. He just wanted his twin.
Philza seemed to notice his restlessness, moving closer and clearing his throat, giving his hand three gentle squeezes as he ran his fingers through Techno’s long pink hair.
He was surprised it wasn’t matted and tangled, although he DID wake up to Philza, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the man had just spent some time brushing his locks.
The pinkette laid there for a while, just appreciating the peace and quiet, relieved that he could just lay there, in silence, letting his father, who by the way was definitely NOT meant to be alive and here right now, watch him, occasionally scritching at the cats ear.
He was confused as to how Philza was alive, and God, did he have so many questions.
Everything was so overwhelming and he hated it. He felt like he needed to be doing something, getting up and running to go find his brothers, to go save his nephew, to save his family and bring them all together again...
The day they get Philza back, the same day they’re all split up.
Life just isn’t fair.
“... You’re meant to be dead.”
Philza looked a bit shocked at the abruptness of the statement, but relaxed rather quickly, letting out a blank laugh, one that was more like a huff than a laugh.
“Yeah, I suppose I should be,” he laughed “I’m still not entirely sure how exactly I wasn’t ripped apart, thought I was for sure a goner.”
Techno frowned, “How... How did you survive? Why didn’t—“ he quickly caught himself before his voice broke, “Why... Why didn’t you come home sooner?”
“I... I was in pretty bad shape, mate, I didn’t even know where exactly I was. As soon as I woke up, after this mess—“ he motioned to his hand, “I wanted to get up and go find the lot of you immediately. In fact, I tried. But uh, Miss Puffy was a bit strict. I had to stay for a while, which I suppose was a good call—“
“A good call?” Techno scoffed, staring up to the ceiling “You... You missed so much. You don’t know how hard it was for all of us. For Wilbur.”
Philza flinched, sighing, “I... I didn’t want to leave you all—“
“You accepted your fate!” Techno snapped “You accepted it— just like that! You— You didn’t even die, so— So you tried to give your life away for nothing! You were being just a complete fool!”
He had never yelled at Philza, not like this, although could you really call it yelling? His voice was strained, yes, but it was painful and raw, his deep voice scratching his throat.
Slowly, he touched his own neck, furrowing his brows together, “You just— just up and left me, Phil... You just left me...”
Techno was not used to being vulnerable, in fact, it was a rare scenario, for Techno to even admit he was upset with someone unless it was straight up anger.
He knew Philza was shocked too, because instead of speaking and apologising like he usually would, he sat there in silence, gently rubbing his thumb across his son’s knuckles, staring at his hand sadly.
He wanted Philza to yell at him, to scold him for— God knows what.
Philza was so good, here he was yelling at him. The man who took him in, raised him as his own, protected him with his life and nearly almost gave it up for them.
Technoblade was so sure he had given it up for them.
Another minute passed of the long and now uncomfortable silence, it was irritating now. Technoblade just wanted to get up, he was bored out of his mind.
His thoughts stuttered as Philza stood up, leaning over and wrapping Technoblade into a tight gentle hug, careful with him as to not cause any more harm to his already painful injuries.
Tangling his fingers in Techno’s hair, he pressed a soft kiss to his temple, closing his eyes.
“I’m so proud of you, Technoblade. I’m so sorry I left, you’ve done so well. My son... My beautiful boy. You did so well looking after them, looking after Wilbur, yourself... Mate, I’m so fucking proud of you.”
There it was.
The gentleness, the kindness that he most definitely did not deserve.
They said nothing as the tears began to stream past Techno’s cheeks, wordlessly clinging to Philza’s shirt, silently begging him not to let go.
His father got the hint, now sitting on the bed, holding him close, shushing him lovingly as he let Techno cry, not a single noise escaping from him as he did so.
He never was loud.
“I never wanted to leave you, Techno. I never wanted to leave any of you... It was soul crushing to hear your brother scream for me, it was... It was devastating. I thought it was all over, had I thought I’d make it out, I wouldn’t of said goodbye—“
“Please never say goodbye again,” Technoblade whispered into his shirt.
He felt his father stiffen, but nod, holding him even closer.
“Never again.”
Tubbo was exhausted as he clung to Ranboo’s hand tightly, shivering and trying oh so desperately to keep calm and keep his tight hold on Fundy.
They had been walking for over a day now, without sleep.
They spent a few minutes every hour or so rushing into the closest building, re applying the zombies insides and blood over themselves, Fundy hadn’t said a word, or even opened his eyes.
None of them had uttered a word to each other, deathly afraid that if they even breathed loud enough, they’d be a goner.
Tubbo had been through an awful lot.
But this definitely took the top in the scariest, most terrifying and traumatising thing that had ever happened to him.
He kept his eyes glued to the floor, his hand tightly grasped in Ranboo’s, his other arm holding onto Fundy for dear life.
The little boy was hidden under a very bloodied blanket now, Tubbo desperately trying to protect Fundy from seeing all the dead, bloodied and decaying people walking beside them, rubbing against them.
Tubbo just wanted to keep Fundy safe.
But he also wanted to get out of this alive.
It was hard, but Fundy at least had managed to get a little bit of rest every now and then, it only upset him that he wasn’t just sleeping normally, he was straight up passing out from how hard was crying.
He felt guilty that he was relieved that Fundy was a silent crier when things got serious. This was so not fair on the poor kid.
He didn’t complain when he realised they weren’t heading in the direction that Wilbur and the others had gone in, because it didn’t really matter.
There was nothing they could do, not when they were surrounded by zombies, trying not to get killed.
Tubbo wasn’t going to just start arguing with Ranboo about which way to go, and let go of his hand.
Definitely not because he knew that the other boy was just as scared as him.
He could tell, both their hands were shaky and sticky with sweat, their grip tight, leaving Tubbo unable to let go even if he tried to.
They were leading each other blindly now, and that just made Tubbo feel sick.
It was hard not to meet the dead ones eyes, so hard that Tubbo saw them everytime he blinked.
The bloodshot whites of their eyes, the milky colour, the way their jaws were practically hanging off, some behaving feral and manic, some didn’t even have jaws, or eyes.
The creepiest were the ones that looked about his age.
A kid groaned and slumped past him, watching in horror as the zombie seemed to fade into the others, Tubbo could feel the trickles of his tears, but he couldn’t stop them.
Sometimes it was so hard to remember that children also lost their lives in this fucked up world.
That nobody was safe.
He tried to keep his gaze to the floor ever since he saw that boy, but even then, nothing could prepare him for the haunting looks of death everytime he closed his eyes.
Sleep wasn’t ever going to come easy after this.
And he thought the basement was bad.
Compared to this, that was nothing more than a dream.
This was an actual, living breathing nightmare, and Tubbo knew there was no way of waking up.
It was starting to feel like they’d never get out.
Until they did.
The walkers became not as crowded, Tubbo finally feeling as if he could breathe as he saw the crowd beginning to groan and drag themselves after the ones ahead, soon enough leaving Tubbo, Ranboo and Fundy with the few stragglers left behind.
Ranboo spoke up, finally, for the first time, “We— Uh— we should go hide somewhere,” he whispered.
Tubbo almost jumped, his heart rate increasing, before his brain seemed to kick in the fact they weren’t surrounded by the dead creatures anymore.
Nodding, he slowly uncovered the silent little boy in his arms, his heart breaking at the sight of the shuddering boy, his tiny hands clamped over his ears, his eyes shut tight as he attempted to shove his face even further into Tubbo’s chest.
Clearing his throat, trying to make his voice as gentle and soft as he possibly could, just like Wilbur did whenever Fundy was upset back before they all had gotten separated, “Fundy... Fundy you can open your eyes now.”
The tiny hands moved from his ears to Tubbo’s shirt, a soft gasp escaping from him, which Tubbo recognised as his silent crying.
“I know it’s scary... But— But we’re away from the monsters now, I promise.”
Ranboo looked heartbroken as he stared at Fundy, his eyes welling up with tears as he nervously fidgeted with his sleeves, not saying a word as he took Tubbo’s free hand again, leading him towards one of the closest houses, stopping just outside.
“There are walkers inside...” he stated.
Tubbo shifted uncomfortably, looking to Fundy, “I... I got them. Can you hold Fundy?”
Ranboo hesitated, holding his hands close to him, as if terrified of grabbing him and breaking him, but gulping, he nodded.
“Okay.”
“Thank you, Ranboo,” Tubbo smiled slightly, an exhausted one at that, but still a smile nonetheless.
As soon as he shifted Fundy in his arms, the boy started to cry a bit louder now, opening his big brown eyes, ready to throw a tantrum and beg for Tubbo to hold him, until he spotted the tall boy beside them, his eyes locking onto his height, his nervous fidgeting.
Something seemed to click in the boys head, his eyes widening, sniffling, but he seemed a lot calmer for someone who had been on the verge of a possible breakdown.
“... Boo?” Fundy whispered, holding his arms out.
Ranboo glanced to Tubbo.
Tubbo was extremely confused, to his knowledge, Fundy was never in the same place they had been. Maybe it had been scrubbed from his memory?
But he wasn’t sure, Fundy seemed just as comfortable with Ranboo as he was with Tubbo, letting the tall lanky boy take the boy into his arms.
Gently, Fundy’s fingers traced the scar across the lower half of his face, the smile that had very obviously carved into his flesh.
“... Boo...” Fundy’s voice was full of sadness now, hugging him “Mama? Mama? You seen mama?”
Ranboo shook his head, hugging Fundy tightly, “I-I uh— I can’t— No. no I haven’t, my goodness—“
Tubbo flinched.
So Fundy still couldn’t register the fact that his mother was deceased. He wasn’t surprised, considering he was only young, but he still would of thought the kid would give up the hope.
Tubbo still sometimes wished his mum was alive to the point that he occasionally would believe it, so he sort of could understand.
“We can talk inside,” Tubbo spoke up, taking the knife from Ranboo’s belt, looking at it carefully, then back to the much taller boy, thinking how much he had grown, “I’ll— I’ll clear it out.”
“You’re hurt—“
“I’m also tired... We both are,” he pointed out, letting out a shaky breath “Just— Just... I just want to clear it out so we can sleep for a bit. Is that okay?”
He didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heels, making his way up the small steps and opening up the creaky door, leaving Ranboo to hold and comfort Fundy, for the boy to be at least a little bit distracted from his thoughts.
As long as Fundy was okay, Tubbo could relax a little bit more, he wasn’t as stressed as he previously was, even if his head was throbbing, his body hot and sweaty, extremely uncomfortable in his clothing as he snuck around the house, clearing all the rooms.
It didn’t take long for him to fully clear the bottom floor, making his way up the stairs.
Spotting the zombie before it could spot him, he let out a shaky sigh, chewing on the skin of his lip as he stalked over, behaving like a predator hunting its prey, thinking back to the times that he and Tommy would stay up all night reading those stupid animal world books.
Thinking about the snakes, the lions...
‘I reckon I could beat them in a fight’ Tommy would joke, and Tubbo would laugh so hard that Philza would of scolded the both of them and took the book away.
Such simpler times.
Tubbo let out a cry, his thoughts had distracted him so much that the zombie had come straight for him, it’s teeth ALMOST digging into his arm, quickly raising his knife, slamming it into the side of the zombie’s head, gagging as the blood splattered on his face, blinking a few times in disgust.
He managed to slump the decaying dead creature off of him, laying on his back for a moment.
Why did he have to do this?
Was there even a point in continuing?
If Tommy was gone, the one person he was sure he was nothing without, then was there really a point?
His eyelids felt heavy, his mind becoming fuzzy. Everything felt warm, warm enough for him to become sleepy and droopy, letting himself close his eyes.
He was so so tired.
Tubbo woke up screaming, jolting upright and his hands rushing to his chest, his throat raw from how hard he belted out a cry, his chest heaving from the panic.
Someone was instantly by his side, gentle large hands on his shoulders, rubbing his upper arms softly, shushing him and telling him that he was okay, that it was all okay.
Those fuckers were haunting him. He was right when he said he wasn’t going to sleep normally after that, there was no possible way he was going to return to normal after that.
The brunette’s breath hitched as he looked up to meet Ranboo’s mismatched worried eyes, his mouth in a thin line as he stared at him, the silent question of ‘are you okay?’ Lingering in the air, unspoken due to the obvious answer.
Tubbo let out a choked sob, hanging his head in shame, shaking.
“My family— my family are gone,” he hiccuped “It’s all gone, Ranboo. It’s all fucking gone...”
The scarred boy frowned slightly, gently grabbing Tubbo’s face, “They’re not gone, Tubbo. They— They’re... They’ve gone somewhere, probably to help Wilbur. Uh— he wasn’t in good shape when we got there. Thought he was dead until he started yelling for you guys and Fundy...”
The pair of them glanced over to the sleeping boy, whom Tubbo was very surprised the kid was still deep in sleep even after he had screamed his heart out.
Tubbo hiccuped, letting Ranboo gently use a handkerchief to wipe away his tears.
“I’m sure they’re all okay. Tommy I— uh—“ he glanced to a book by his satchel, shaking his head, then looking back to Tubbo, “I think I remember Philza told me he was really stro—“
“Philza?” Tubbo immediately asked, his eyes widening even larger, almost bulging out of his head, “Wh- what do you mean, Philza?”
“Your... Your dad. He’s uh— oh goodness— urm... He’s alive, Tubbo.”
There was no way he was still alive.
This was some sick joke, this was so sick— so fucked up. This must be a prank, some bullshit.
Phil— his dad— he died. He heard him, he had no way out. He was dead. There was no possible way there— he can’t be—
It made no sense!
His friend seemed to understand his confusion, leaning over to snatch up the old looking leather book, nervously handing it over to Tubbo.
“Um— please be gentle with it. It’s my memory book, I have a bad memory after everything... With that place... You know.”
Tubbo could understand, some of his memories were fuzzy too.
Delicately, he ran his fingers along the edges, relaxing just at the familiar smell of leather, the sight of a pretty purple ribbon that he just new was an addition from Phil. Philza loved making things look pretty and neat.
Flicking through the first few pages, he grimaced at the doodles, the scratches that were meant to be words, but hardly visible, hardly readable.
He saw Sally and Fundy’s names written down a good amount, which now Tubbo began to realise Ranboo did not know that Sally, whoever she was to him, was dead.
That wouldn’t be easy to break to him.
He got more than halfway through the book when he noticed it.
A small doodle, of a man with a bucket hat, a disc, a pig, a bee and a guitar.
He laughed, tears falling past his cheeks as he held the book with shaking hands, “He’s— he’s really alive? After— after all this time?”
Ranboo nodded.
Tubbo still couldn’t quite believe it, letting out a shocked gasp, slowly putting the book down and pulling his knees up to his chest, sniffling, “He’s alive... He’s alive... Tommy won’t...” his heart broke “Tommy won’t get to see him... I won’t...”
“Don’t say that,” his friend frowned, taking his hand into his, “We’ll uh— we’ll get you back together. I know Phil won’t leave you out here, I’m not sure about me but I know he won’t leave you! For now we can... We can stay here? Or we can try slowly follow after the hoard and separate when we get to that place Phil was talking about. L’manberg?”
Tubbo nodded, sitting up straight, wiping his eyes, “Mhm— yeah— yeah you’re right...” slowly, his brown eyes trailed down towards the scar across his mouth.
He hadn’t said anything about it, and he tried not to look at it when Ranboo had removed his mask.
But he couldn’t help but look at it.
It looked less than a year old, still a pale pinky-red tint to it, sore looking too.
God, it must itch like a bitch being so close to his mouth.
Ranboo seemed to have caught his eyes on Tubbo’s scar too, the bite mark from that zombie.
Honestly, he almost forgot he had a scar there, that a chunk of his cheek was missing. It was so easy to forget when he had been so happy in L’manberg... It was stinging now.
The gloves hands raised to his cheek, gently cupping it, Tubbo allowed himself to lean into the touch, closing his eyes.
“I thought you were dead, big man,” Tubbo whispered.
“I didn’t even know what to think about you... I-I thought I’d forget you too,” Ranboo said sadly.
They sat there, just enjoying each other’s company.
Neither of them tried to sleep that night, knowing there was no way in hell they could. The fear eating away at them.
The nightmares terrorising them even as they sat awake.
When Tommy woke up in darkness, he had immediately tried to yell, to cry out for someone to help him.
His throat hurt so bad, everything that came out from him was croaky and barely audible. He must of been screaming so hard he lost his voice.
He didn’t like the darkness, he didn’t like feeling trapped. His claustrophobia was kicking in and kicking in hard now, trying to raise his hands up to his head, to play with his hair, to calm himself down, but he found he could barely lift them.
His eyes trailed down, trying to see in the darkness.
He could hear the chains though, and his heart plummeted into his stomach, realising that not only could he not speak, not move his hands, but he had also had his hands handcuffed and attaches to a chain, that was stuck in the floor.
Tommy began to tug, gasping for breath as the panic attack began to settle in, thrashing about and sobbing, trying to let himself cry it out, trying to pull his wrists out of the cuffs, only resulting in rubbing and twisting his hands so hard they clicked, sore and red.
He knew that he’d start bleeding if he continued, that the cuffs would just tighten, but he couldn’t stop.
This was terrifying.
He just wanted Wilby. He wanted Tech, he wanted Tubbo he wanted Henry he wanted Fundy he wanted dad—
“Dad—“ his voice croaked out, heaving “Dad— please—“ he wailed “I— I— Dad—“
Eventually he was shaking so hard that the jingles of the chains was just completely overstimulating him. Curling up on the ground, close enough to the chain that he could cover his ears, his back sore due to the position he curled into, but he couldn’t care less, he was more focused on how loud—
No, how silent everything was.
Everything was so quiet that it was loud.
Dream listened, sat by the top of the stairs of the basement as Tommy let out hoarse screams, a satisfied smile resting on his face.