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Technoblade was no stranger to pain.
They can't recall a time when pain was a foreign feeling, it was always within arms reach. Whether through nails bitten raw, gnawed through lips or a dull ache that had been ever present in their ribs, it was always there, always lingering. Though, they did inflict a decent amount of the stuff as well. After all, what's in a name?.
Techno was also not a stranger to blood.
In all their battles, they'd come away just as soaked with the sticky metallica of blood as their own sweat, Philza making him hose off in the yard because he'd be damned if techno got blood all over his hardwood floors again.
So in theory, combining the two would be Techno's forte, their strong suit, a dance they'd done and a game they had played. An acolyte of the blood god, these were things oh so familiar they rarely even caused the bitter taste of fear for them anymore.
And yet, this morning, as his eyes shot open with a wave of oh-so-dreaded pain, all he could do was curl up, pull the covers around himself and beg to nothingness, not today, not today, please gods just let me be. But he got no such luck.
Techno made their way to the bathroom hurriedly, not wanting to ruin their pants or sheets anymore. But luckily (not really) he had felt the sharp-ghost pains in his pelvis the day before and thought ahead, putting a small liner in his briefs, having to swap out his boxers for the stupid backup feminine underwear. Fuck whoever decided to make pads that way. Hopefully both sides of their pillow are fucking burning.
Standing up and moving around had helped a bit, and the waves of pain were gone, so washing their hands quickly they decided they were feeling up for going downstairs to get something to eat. He was absolutely famished, though it was hard to tell hunger from the sick, anxious feeling that accompanied this time.
Midway down the flight of stairs, techno felt another wave hit and hunched over, hobbling the rest of the way, walls and muscle memory guiding him. It hurts, it hurt so bad, even biting the inside of their lip did nothing to distract from the pain. Fuck.
Techno pulled out the bread, not really thinking too hard about the food, more concerned with getting it the fuck over with because he was pretty sure he needed to sit down. Like that second. They leaned heavily on the counter.
He shoved the soon-to-be-toast in the toaster, and slid down the cabinets to the kitchen floor. They immediately laid down, pressing their cheek to the cool tile. Techno wanted to fall asleep again, because then maybe it would stop, but before he could drift off the toaster dinged. Can they have a minute of rest?
Standing isn't the worst, but as they finished buttering a wave of pain blinded him, causing him to go weak in the knees and grab and press at his stomach, trying to do something, anything to stop it. He took the half buttered loaf and folded it over. It would be fine, it was all going to the same place.
Techno could hardly force the toast down. They felt absolutely sick, but also desperately hungry. They took small bites of the toast, chasing it down with sips of water.
Back on the cool tile, they needed to be back on the ground. Would laying face down work? They rolled over, but the pressure didn't do a thing except press painfully on their ribs, another wave crashing. His breathing was becoming heavy, and spots danced around the corner of their vision, flooding it with ink, and all they could think was not again...
They tried to control their breathing, sitting back up and shakily bringing the water to their lips, only realizing they spilled it when the coolness seeped into the front of their shirt. They needed to get to the bath, and they needed to do it fast. But they couldn't walk they were stuck here, there was no way-
"Phil!" They were almost unaware of their own voice. Why was it so strangled, so grossly vulnerable? They were the blood god, feared by all, a warrior revered for his ruthless technique, his inability to die, and yet they wished they could, just to escape the pain and the stress of the body they were in.
"Phil!!" The second time was intentional, louder, pleading, begging the man to be home. It was early enough, he had to be home right? But Philza was notorious for not only his disappearances but also his ability to sleep like the dead. His sugar goddess was really coming in hard with the benefits-
"PHIL!" Techno mustered up every ounce of volume, gathered it from every tremble, every wave of pain, even the dull ache in his back and the tightness in the back of his throat (since when was he crying?)
"Techno? Mate?" Techno nearly cried out in relief. Thank gods he was awake.
"Kitchen!" He tried to yell, but with his still uneven breathing it came out more of a sigh. Gods, was his appendix exploding too? He let himself lay back down. Though now the tile was uncomfortable, he was freezing, the sheen of sweat that had formed giving him the shivers.
"Techno?! Hey mate, breathe. What's wrong?" Trust Phil to become Dadza in the blink of an eye. Maybe that was his superhero identity.
"It's cramps. Really fucking bad ones." Philza pulled them over to him gently, resting their head in his lap and placing a cool hand on their forehead. He shifted his fingers back to scratch gently at Technos head, the comfort washing Techno in warmth. But it was broken all too soon as a horrible wave hit, and they curled up, knees coming in and twisting onto his side.
"What can I do to help? Did you take potions?"
"No. Body's doing what it needs to." He said through gritted teeth. Even though it had been a rather unsavory terf who had told them 'they should be greatful for their period, because they could have kids one day'. (Which seems rather insensitive to say to someone who is not only aromantic but has sworn off having kids since day one, who was just in need of medical advice) they found out that healing potions did jack shit for cramps, because technically there was nothing to heal.
"Can you- just run a hot bath please? It'll help." Philza nodded, making to stand up and pulled Techno with him. Though techno had a few inches on the old man, Phil still managed to haul him up to the bathroom, even though they felt like their knees were gonna give out, needing to collapse into themself from the stabbing pain. As someone who had literally been stabbed in battle, multiple times, they honestly wished they could opt out and get stabbed rather than go through this for the next 24 hours. At least there were fucking potions that worked for getting stabbed.
Philza set about drawing the bath, setting the water to hot and plugging the drain, getting out a wash rag (a good idea to be fair, though they probably wouldn't bathe in that water, it would be nice to be able to dry off their hands and eyes with it). Leaving the bath to fill, Phil left the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a set of fresh clothes.
"I got the comfy stuff." He gave a soft smile. Techno just nodded, fighting off a particularly bad wave, not sure if he could say anything that wasn't a plea make it stop. He felt like a little kid, grasping desperately to the empty belief that parents could make all the pain go away.
Philza moved in front of them, tying their hair into a bun at the top of their head, tight enough to keep the hair from getting out but loose enough not to pull. The bath was filled in no time.
"Alright, hop on in. I'm gonna step out but I'll be right behind this door if you need me." With that, Phil gave them a final gentle look before exiting the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Half lucid, Techno climbed out of his clothes. And at that moment, they realized that like an idiot, they’d slept in their binder. He knew he wasn't supposed to, all that jazz but during this wretched time the thought of not having it on...it was unbearable. At least that explained the back pain. They took a deep breath, feeling the ache as their ribs pressed outwards, and lowered themself into the tub.
The water was on the edge of burning, and their skin scalded as they lowered themself into it with shaking arms, eyes trained on nothing but the tap. Don't look down. A bit harder when you were horizontal but still.
The relief was immediate, if only for the fact that he could instead focus on the heat of the water and the steam sticking to his face rather then the pain in his gut. He felt a bit lightheaded, whether from the pain or the heat. It didn't last long.
“Phil?” There wasn’t any strength behind their voice as they called out. Their vision was spotty. The pain had sunken into the tub with him and there was a foreign and familiar feeling at the back of his throat.
“Yeah mate?” his voice was ever so gentle, barely making it through the door. Techno knew he hated seeing his kids in pain. He would give the world, give his life to make sure no harm would come to them.
“I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Can I come in?” Techno stretched an arm out of the water to pull the curtain around the tub before answering with a quiet;
“Yeah.” The door swung open, bringing a wave of cool air, and Phil passed the waste bin, that oddly resembled a flower pot, into their outstretched hand. Though with their eclectic house, it probably was a flower pot. Phil had millions of dollars worth of antiques being used as everything from bathroom trash cans to doorstops.
“Is there anything I can do mate?” Techno wished there was.
“Just-don’t leave. I don’t wanna fall asleep or pass out and drown.” His words were a bit slurred together, frayed at the edges. The laugh punctuating them was dry.
“Hey, you won’t be dying on my watch.”
“I feel like death. Whoever said this shit wasn't that bad is a liar.”
“I wish I could make it stop kiddo.” Techno held back a sob. God, he really was a wreck today. He stretched a hand out past the curtain, waiting, reaching, and after a second of rustling, there was an affirming squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Techno felt the feeling in the back of his throat return, and after only a second, was yanking his hand back, retching and heaving into the bucket. The toast hardly had any time to digest.
“It was getting too saccharine in here anyways.” Techno said, trying to break the frown they knew was knitting it’s way across Phil’s brow. He succeeded, a string of laughter unraveling from the man.
“Alright, alright, do you think you’re gonna be sick again? I can take the bucket if not.” To be fair, he felt a bit better, so Techno passed the bucket out through the curtain into a waiting hand. Techno grabbed back onto Phil’s hand the moment it returned, the only tether he had to keep from slipping away into the pain. How many days had he spent staring at the yellow tiled walls of this bathroom as the water stained red, pain never subsiding, leaving a god defeated by their own body? How many times had this body betrayed them? They wanted to rip and claw their way out, they wanted to look in mirrors and smile at the reflection, they wanted to stand on the battlefield without worrying if their binder strap was showing. They wanted to fade into a place with no body at all. Phil ran his thumb over the back of Techno's hand.
The two sat in silence for a bit, Phil humming an unidentifiable tune that echoed on the bathroom walls. Techno didn't drift anymore, but the pain never left, and there was nothing to be said. After all, language only went so far to describe things.
A familiar electronic ping broke the silence, and Phil’s hand broke away.
“That was Ranboo, they and the gremlins are gonna be here any second.”
“Heh?!”
“I told them you weren't feeling too well and you know Tommy, promised to march in here unless he knew. Poor kid thought you were dying. They said they all have something for you. You don't have to get out if you don't feel up for it though.” Techno nodded in relief. A knock at the door sent Philza out of the room.
Voices echoed in, muffled through the door, and Techno was alone.
The waves were slightly, if just so, fading. Fuck. Okay nope, not fading, not fading-
A few soft taps at the door pulled them back.
“Come in.”
“Hey Techno. Uh, I have something- I don't -well, Endermen are humanoids but we don’t really-yeah. But, uh-Tubbo said this really helped them and if it hurts too badly you should take it as soon as possible, so here.” Techno stuck a hand out, and a glass bottle was deposited in his hand. There were soft footsteps, and the door closed once more.
The liquid looked thick, a deep purple that moved sluggishly, and when he popped the cork, it smelled of plums. He downed it. Worst case scenario he drank some medicine that tasted bad. Tubbo was a scientist after all, it probably did at least some good. It wasn't the worst-the consistency was that of a smoothie and it tasted of plums, true to the smell.
It...worked. Almost immediatly?! He turned over and sat up. The pain wasn’t gone, it was still an ache, a whisper, but he could sit there and not hunch over. The waves had stopped, turned to something predictable, something calmer. And it wasn't gone, but Techno could work with it.
Techno unplugged the drain, grabbing the towel Phil had left outside the tub. It was somewhere between fluffy and rough, but it was warm and dry and familiar.
They proceeded to have a small wrestling match with their binder. Putting it on right after getting out of the bath was probably a bad idea, but they couldn’t stomach the idea of not having it on. He’d had his rest, and now he was about to be seeing a bunch of people.
They tugged it down their back and adjusted it before slipping into the dry clothes. Bless Phil, the man had left out the black turtleneck, also known as Techno’s dysphoria and general comfort shirt. They pulled it over their head, and took their damp hair from the bun, shaking it out, before leaving the bathroom. They could hear the conversation even from the upstairs.
“-to say ‘fuck Ranboo’ but the little gremlin just laughed!”
“You’re about to lose visiting privileges bitch, no one talks about my husband that way-”
“-Maybe just don’t teach the kid swear words mate?”
“Nope, that bridge is burned. I thought his first words would be ‘HMMM nuclear coding, can’t get the HMMing program to run.” Techno walked in, and the attention shifted to him.
It was quiet for a moment. Then Tommy ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug. Techno hated to be that guy, but the kid smelled. Geez, had he rotted while he was dead too?
“Techno! Good to see you man, I have missed you dearly.” Tommy clung onto him, and maybe Techno was still a bit mad about the whole betrayal thing, but after serving as best man for the Underscore-Beloved wedding with his little brother, and having to break the news he was dead to all his friends and family, maybe he could tolerate him. Something about life being short and all that jazz. They hugged him back tightly.
“Yeah yeah. Philll, make the kid shower, the property value is going down.” Techno complained, and Tommy feigned hurt. Techno transferred his gaze to Tubbo and Ranboo as the hug disbanded. The pair was standing close to each other, a basket in Ranboo’s hands. “Hello again Ranboo. Tubbo.” he said nodding at the pair in turn. Tubbo greeted him with a toothy grin.
“Mr.Blade! We come bearing gifts!” Tubbo takes the basket from Ranboo, crossing the room fairly quickly for someone with such short legs. He hands the basket over and rattles off the items inside.
“-more of the potion, I had Fundy help me whip some up in the lab. Some chocolate-did you know there are actually chemicals in it that help with cramps? And last, Niki helped me make a prototype a bit ago, but these boxers, you can put pads and shit in them! Thought you might want a pair. If you know anyone else who needs some, let us know!” Techno was rendered speechless at the thoughtfulness of the basket. Gifts, now that was what tugged at his heartstrings the most. They still had the emerald Phil brought back from his travels many years ago, and the notebook from Wilbur and the music box from Tommy. He absolutely refused to risk a voice crack, eyes trained on the basket-
The silence was broken by none other than Tommy, once more.
“I picked the chocolate.” Techno looked up, and Tommy looked like he had given the whole gift himself with the face he was pulling. “Tubbo, distasteful bastard, wanted to give you dark chocolate, the obviously inferior choice. You're welcome.” As soon as Philza burst out laughing, the rest of the room followed suit.
“Thanks guys. It-this means a lot. Really. I’m not great with words but I mean it.” Techno said, affirming it with a nod.
“So valid. Anyways, you feeling good enough for a pogchamp adventure?”
“Eh, I’d rather stay in to be honest, I'm still not feeling the best-”
“Perfect. Ranboo brought monopoly. Get ready to feel my capitalistic wrath, bitch.”