Archive of Our Own ^beta

Technoblade wasn’t expecting anybody to be hanging around his house when he finally made it back.

Ghostbur, maybe. He’s been around a bit. Or Phil, but he doesn’t think Phil got out of L’manberg quite yet.

The door is open. Scorch marks mar his previously pristine floors, a familiar smell hanging heavily in the air. It’s dusty, thick. Hot.

Like lava.

Techno goes in slowly, sword drawn. He’s half expecting a trap- some kind of tripwire or pressure plate that’ll drop him into lava.

There’s a figure hunched in front of his fireplace. Grayed out, translucent, and if he didn’t know better he’d think it was Ghostbur.

But he does know better, and that’s not Ghostbur.

“Tommy?” Techno says, sheathing his sword.

The ghost- Tommy’s ghost- stays hunched up by the smoldering coals. “Cold,” he whispers, voice echoing softly.

Techno’s heart aches. He and Tommy haven’t been close in a long time, Tommy’s been away for a long time, but this… he never would’ve wanted this. Gods, the poor kid.

“You’re cold?” Techno asks softly.

Ghost-Tommy nods, even as lava drips out of his blackened eyes, down his face. His ragged clothing is charred, there’s ash in his faded golden curls, his bare skin is scorched and burned. Gods, the poor kid- what the hell happened to him?

“Here, kid.” Techno moves closer, noticing and filing away for later the way Ghost-Tommy flinches away from him. He puts a log on the coals, prodding them till the fire is crackling merrily away, spreading warmth through the room.

Ghost-Tommy moves closer when Techno backs up, holding his hands out to the fire. Techno watches him, shaking and small and- and so, so scared looking.

“Tommy,” he whispers at last, voice breaking. “Tommy, kid, what happened?”

Ghost-Tommy doesn’t say anything. He barely moves. Techno has no idea what to do.

Tommy’s ghost stays huddled up practically inside the fireplace, looking tinier than ever. Techno tries to give him space. He doesn’t know what to do, how to help, and the best thing he thinks he can do right now is just- not deal with the problem.

He takes a bath and spends a couple hours combing through his hair, working the knots out carefully and re-doing his braids. Clean clothes have never felt so good, he thinks, stretching as he reaches the bottom of the ladder.

There’s a knock on the door. The ghost doesn’t seem to notice, even when Techno grabs a sword and goes to peer through the gap in the curtains beside the window.

It’s Ghostbur, and Friend.

Techno doesn’t trust that immediately, though. The last time Ghostbur showed up, he led an execution squad straight to Techno’s front door.

It doesn’t look like there’s anyone else out there, so hesitantly Techno opens the door, keeping his sword in his hand.

“What’re you doin’ here, Ghostbur?” he asks warily.

“Hello Technoblade!” Ghostbur smiles, petting Friend’s wool. “I’m looking for Tommy, have you seen him?”

Techno shifts. “Why?”

“Oh, he’s missing!” Ghostbur chirps. “I went to his exile and he’s not there. Dream seems really worried.”

Techno frowns. He didn’t think… he’d heard that Tommy wanted to be alone.

Dream said Tommy wanted to be alone.

“Was Dream out there with Tommy a lot?”

“Yeah! He was keeping an eye on Tommy.” Ghostbur pets Friend some more, frowning. “Tommy seemed unhappy.”

Techno’s fingers curl tighter around the grip of the sword. “Did he, now.”

“Dream?” Ghost-Tommy’s voice is whispery and thin. Techno jumps, turning around quickly to see the translucent figure floating behind him, hands tucked under his arms. Lava drips down his face like tears, splattering into wisps of nothing when they hit the ground. “Where… is he?”

“Tommy, there you are!” Ghostbur’s voice changes; a quick glance shows Techno a frown on his face. “Oh, no, what happened to you?”

Ghost-Tommy tucks his chin to his chest, floating backwards slightly. “I… don’t remember,” he whispers. “Where is Dream?”

“He’s not here, kid,” Techno says roughly. “But you… you’re safe now. You’re safe, okay?”

Ghost-Tommy looks away, eyes dimming. “Oh. Okay.”

He drifts back inside, huddling up by the fireplace, going silent and still again. He’s- he’s so fucking small. Was Tommy that small when he was alive?

“What happened to him?” Ghostbur stage-whispers.

Techno’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know.”

“It’s my fault.”

The echoing voice wakes him in the middle of the night. Techno jolts upright, spotting Ghost-Tommy sitting close enough to touch, if he cared to try.

He doesn’t try. He can feel the heat Ghost-Tommy is radiating- not quite lava-hot, but still, uncomfortably warm. Unlike Ghostbur, who has a tendency to make everything feel colder.

“It’s my fault,” Ghost-Tommy repeats, lava tears running down his face again. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

Techno scrubs one hand over his face, a bit groggy. “What is?”

Ghost-Tommy blinks at him. “I can’t remember,” he whispers.

Techno sighs. He’s not cut out for this crap. He’s not all- nurturing, or whatever. That’s Phil’s department, and Ghostbur isn’t too shabby at it, but Techno?

That doesn’t really matter right now, though. Because he is here, and no one else is.

“That- that’s okay, kid.” Techno sits up against the wall, resting his hands on his knees. “I don’t think… whatever it is, I’m not gonna be mad at you.”

It’s not exactly a promise he can make. Because they’re not close, and there are things that Techno would get mad at Tommy for.

But the ghost of him- who can’t remember, who seems scared and small- the ghost of a teenage kid who died, Tommy died- Techno’s not gonna take it out on the poor thing. He can’t help it.

“It’s my fault. It is.” Ghost-Tommy drifts back slightly, scrubbing his eyes with bone-thin fists. “I… I didn’t mean it.”

“Okay,” Techno says, hoping his tone comes across as more soothing than oh-gods-please-just-let-me-go-the-heck-back-to-sleep. “Okay, Tommy.”

“I- what?” Ghost-Tommy flinches, lava spilling down his cheeks and sizzling on the floor, leaving behind tiny scorch marks. “That’s not… no, no, I- that’s not-”

“Okay, hey, kid, it’s- you’re okay.” Techno holds up his hands, aiming to placate the ghost. “Just… you’re okay. You’re okay, To- kid. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Ghost-Tommy is breathing too quickly, too heavily. “I’m not- I’m not, I don’t… why can’t I remember, I can’t…”

“Hey- hey!” Techno doesn’t mean to snap, but the heat is starting to get concerning. Not unbearable, not with his Nether blood, but he doesn’t want the kid burning his house down.

Ghost-Tommy quiets instantly, tucking his hands up to his chest. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Sorry. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re-” Guilt swells through his chest. “You’re okay, kid. Just- just try to, ah… get some rest, okay?” Can ghosts rest? He doesn’t even know. “I’ll still be here in the mornin’.”

Phil is also there in the morning.

Techno spots him as he’s going out to feed the hounds- trudging through the snow, wrapped up in a blue fur-lined cloak that Techno recognizes with a sense of warm nostalgia. He waves when Phil looks up, and Phil waves back, tired face breaking into a grin and steps coming quicker.

“Hey, mate.” Phil leans in for a hug- the only person Techno will allow himself that bit of humanity with. He hugs Phil close, resting their foreheads together when the avian pulls back. They share a breath like this, soft and gentle and quiet. Together again at last.

“Hey,” Techno breathes back. “You get out okay?”

“Mm-hm.” Phil straightens, stretches. His back pops. “And you, you- you’re doin’ okay? After all that shit?”

“Yeah, I’m-” Techno waves one hand dismissively. “You want some breakfast?”

“Fuck yeah, mate, that’d be great.”

Phil follows him up the steps and into the cabin, freezing in the doorway. Ghost-Tommy is sitting practically in the fireplace again, silently dripping lava on the stone surround.

“Oh, gods,” Phil chokes out.

Techno follows his gaze. “Yeah,” he sighs. “The kid was here when I got back. He’s…”

“You haven’t heard?” Phil hesitates. “Techno, he… so, Ranboo was in the Nether, the day before the execution.”

Techno frowns. “Yeah, and…?”

Phil glances at the ghost, lowering his voice. “He saw Tommy,” he says quietly. “Techno, he said Tommy pushed Dream into the lava.”

“…oh.” Suddenly the repetitions of my fault, I didn’t mean to, my fault make sense. “Well, I mean, the guy’s still got two lives left, right? So-”

“That’s not all.” Phil’s expression is suddenly etched with pain. “Tech, he also… he saw Tommy jump.”

And everything.

Just.

Stops.

“Nah. Nah, Phil, he- he wouldn’t do that-”

Phil shakes his head, glancing at Ghost-Tommy again. “He did,” he says quietly. “He saw Tommy jump. He- Ranboo tried to get to him, to stop him, but he was too late. There was nothing he could do. Tommy jumped.”

“No.” Techno’s voice cracks. “Phil, he- why would he do that? He wouldn’t’a- not without a reason.”

“I don’t know,” Phil says heavily. “But he… Ranboo wouldn’t lie, mate. Not about somethin’ like that.”

Techno can’t look away from Ghost-Tommy. Can hardly begin to comprehend that- that TommyInnit, of all people, who was so bold and brash and so so very alive, would- would-

“What are we gonna do?” Techno whispers, looking back at Phil. “What can we do?”

Phil shakes his head helplessly.

There’s probably nothing they can do, Techno knows. Ghostbur hasn’t been any different in months- he’s vacant, forgetful, often confused. They have no reasons to believe Ghost-Tommy could change.

“Well,” Techno says, straightening and squaring his shoulders, “we could start by building a house the kid can’t burn down by accident.”

They’ll take care of him. Someone has to, and he came to Techno’s house.

That has to count for something.

~~~

Tommy hardly knows how he ends up in the Nether.

His thoughts keep going in circles. He can’t, he’s not… it’s too much. It’s too much.

He’s standing on the narrow bridge and all he can see is the lava so far below and he just wants to jump. He just wants to fall and die and have it be over. He’s so so fucking tired.

He takes a step forwards, and a hand falls heavily on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around.

He knows who it is.

“What are you doing.”

Dream’s voice sounds flat and dull in the harsh, thick Nether air. Tommy stares at the lava and doesn’t answer.

The hand on his shoulder turns harsh, gripping tightly. “It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy,” Dream says, and pulls him back.

And Tommy lets him.

Because Tommy is weak. Because Dream has spent months beating him down, hurting him, breaking him.

Dream broke him.

Dream broke the part of him that fucking cared about anything or anyone.

Tommy plants his feet on the netherrack, not caring how it sears his bare soles. Dream sighs harshly, in that particular way that means he’s pissed at Tommy.

“I don’t have time for your games,” he says, coming around in front of Tommy. “Move.”

Mistake. A mistake.

Tommy’s hands come up and he shoves Dream’s shoulders, hard.

Dream yells, and Tommy just stands there, watching him fall. Watching him scream as he hits the lava, his body lighting on fire and burning, melting away into nothing in a matter of seconds.

It should feel satisfying. Dream’s been torturing him for months, taking all Tommy’s stuff and burning it right in front of him; beating him, hurting him. And Tommy just killed him.

Instead, he just feels hollow.

He was right, though, it was quick. He’s sure now. Dream’s body is completely gone. It took less than a minute and he was dead.

Tommy just wants all of this to be over.

He’s so, so tired.

He takes another step towards the edge. There’s a sound like a yell- faint, distant.

Too far away to matter.

Tommy closes his eyes, and steps off the edge.

It hurts. It hurts so, so much.

But only for a few seconds.