In today's chapter: Tommy learns about history and the intricacies of reincarnation. Technoblade learns a few new words. Phil should learn how you can chase a homeless guy off your porch with a broom if you need to.

Techno did not take to calling him Big Man Innit, much to Tommy's disappointment.

He took comfort in the fact that – as far as the common tongue was concerned at least – Technoblade currently couldn't use any words that needed more than a single syllable to pronounce. Which was hilarious in itself, to see somebody as verbose as Techno be reduced to using the bare minimum of the spoken language. But it also had the unintended side-effect of him not being able to say Tommy's name properly.

It didn't take too long for him to get used to the high-pitched 'Tom!' that was directed at him whenever the young piglin wanted his attention though.

Tommy settled for teaching Techno some of his own favorite words instead. So far he had managed to get shit, fuck and bitch included in Techno's limited repertoire, and he was working on adding pog to the mix just to keep things interesting. The affectionate Old Man had also been quickly picked up by his brother, much to Phil's chagrin.

In return, Technoblade had made a valiant attempt at teaching Tommy a few things in Piglin, though the effort had been mostly in vain. The only word Tommy had been able to memorize so far was the one for gold, and that was just because Techno had repeated it at him an ungodly amount. Seriously, you'd think the kid was obsessed.

While they had been gone to retrieve Phil's possessions, Tommy had taken the advice of laying low and stayed inside. Out of some ill-conceived mixture of boredom and curiosity, he had spent the entire day reading. He had worked his way through at least half of the scribbled notebooks Phil kept, skimming page after page of stories that didn't read like things that had actually happened, let alone things that had happened to people Tommy knew. Maybe it was morbid but he was especially intrigued with the passages describing Techno's death and subsequent return to the world of the living.

From what Tommy could tell it was always a rather gruesome demise for Techno, he was always reincarnated in the Nether, and - with the exception of the very first time - Phil had always found him almost immediately after at the nearest portal from where he had died.

(Also, Techno never once made it past his 25th birthday, but that was a detail Tommy happily shoved into the corner of his mind where all knowledge he'd rather ignore went)

There was one small thing that seemed to confuse him though, and he decided to ask Phil about it while they were collecting wood near the cabin.

"I don't really get why he's not a baby."

Phil froze mid-chop to instead start laughing his ass off, the axe still clutched tightly in his hands. Despite it being minus a million degrees or something Tommy felt an embarrassed heat rise towards his cheeks at the reaction, quickly bending down to pick up more logs so Phil wouldn't notice.

"What?! That's a normal question, innit? I'm not an idiot, Phil, I know how reincarnation is supposed to work."

"Do you?" Phil hummed, still sounding amused. Nevertheless, he reared back to continue chipping away at the tree's rough bark. Technoblade scurried around their feet, picking up twigs that barely fit in his small hold.

"Yeah, you die and you're born again." Tommy shrugged. "So I wanna know why he's not a literal infant. He got to skip ahead like, a whole five years."

There was silence for a moment and Tommy thought maybe Phil was about to admit he didn't know. Then a short cough. "From what I understand..." he said carefully, almost like he was afraid of Tommy's reaction. "It's the age he was at when he made the contract."

And maybe his reaction would have been different if Tommy had the slightest clue what he was reacting to. "What contract?"

Phil laughed but it didn't sound anything like it had a minute ago, all sincerity replaced by disbelieve and something that edged into desperation too. "What contract-" he echoed ruefully. "Tommy, the whole hearing voices thing? Blood for the blood god? Don't tell me you don't know, he's not exactly subtle about it."

Tommy opened his mouth to respond and then left it there with nothing being able to make its way up his throat which suddenly felt too constricted to allow noise to pass. When he finally got his voice to work again, it was all pinched and smothered. "That's real?"

Now it was Phil's turn to be surprised. "You didn't think it was?"

Tommy sputtered. "Hey, I just thought it was some bullshit persona thing, okay? Make himself more intimidating and shit?" Guilt was not exactly the word for what he felt blossoming inside his chest, but it had to come near that. It wasn't like he hadn't believed Technoblade, it was just that Tommy hadn't even considered it a possibility. He couldn't help question if some things made more sense with this newly added context and shook his head as if that alone could make all the jumbled thoughts in his brain line up properly again.

It was too much for him to process all at once.

"The blood god made Techno its conduit," Phil explained plainly. "He spills blood in their name, keeps them alive. And in exchange, Techno can't die either. If he does, he is returned to the state he was in when he sealed the contract."

"That's-" Tommy tried, then stopped. He couldn't bring himself to wonder why a god would choose a child for such a cruel purpose.

"Chat," Techno said, handing him some sticks. Apparently, he had caught onto their conversation and decided to add his two cents. He gestured at his temple.

Phil smiled thinly. "Yes, Chat. You like chat, don't you mate?" He ruffled the short fur on top of Technoblade's head with one hand. His communicator broke the silence a moment later. The short buzz was indicative of a message, not a call, and Phil pulled it out to scan the words on the screen. His smile fell. "We need to go back inside, now."

Tommy was glad for the change of subject, but Phil's tone made him anxious. "Why?"

"Dream's on his way. He's looking for you."

The wood clutched to his chest tumbled onto the ground when Tommy felt his hold go slack involuntarily, his muscles ceasing their function and refusing to keep his arms upright. He tried clenching his fists, but couldn't feel his fingers anymore, static tingling across the skin. White vapor kept escaping his mouth in rapid bursts as his breathing slipped out of his tightly held control.

Not wanting Phil to notice, Tommy dug his nails into his palms hard. The pinpricks of pain helped to ground him as he watched his father swiftly gather up their tools and the remaining logs. Tommy watched him start to make his way back to the cabin too, but his feet felt made of led and refused to be lifted.

Then Technoblade curled his small clawed hand into his own to tug him along. It dislodged Tommy's nails from his skin, almost tenderly. It was warm with Techno's body heat. He inhaled, and as shaky as it was the air burned deep within his lungs. He started walking.

Phil was already inside, pulling out a glass bottle filled with a murky grey liquid. He pushed it into Tommy's hands. "Invisibility potion," he explained.

Tommy nodded shakily and put the bottle to his lips. He was vaguely grateful it wasn't a splash potion. With the way his hands were shaking he wasn't sure if he wouldn't have ended up smashing it all over the floor instead of himself. He felt the magic take effect by the faint trickle of coldness down his spine, the tingling feeling from before spreading through his limbs but caused by the potion this time instead of the frigid weather.

Pulling open a crate, Phil gestured for him to get inside. Tommy couldn't tell why that simple gesture was enough to make the panic rise in intensity, clogging up his throat until he could hardly think. Why would Phil think this much hiding was necessary? Why did he think Dream was going to come inside at all?

What would Dream even do if he found him?

He moved as if struggling through molasses, slow and syrupy. When his hand grabbed onto the crate Phil put his own down on top of Tommy's, looking him in the face.

"It's going to be okay," Phil said. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Tommy. I'm here."

Tommy felt like he could sob with it, and with how desperately he could have used to hear those words spoken a few weeks ago. Instead, he hurriedly rubbed at his eyes with his sleeves. "I know that, I'm not stupid," he said testily before the lid was closed on him and he was plunged into darkness. There was a small crack in the crate, just big enough for him to peer through if he pressed against it and focussed real hard, the image blurry and not wide enough to allow him to see the entire room.

Barely three minutes later there came a heavy pounding on the door. Just like last time Phil opened it but kept it ajar, shoulder pushed subtly against the wood. Technoblade was standing at his side again, holding onto Phil's coat gingerly. Benihime was returned to hanging from Phil's hips, Dream's eyes flicked towards the sword for a blink before he was crossing his arms.

"I heard you were harboring a refugee?"

Tommy couldn't see Phil's expression from his hiding place, but he recognized the sarcastic inflection of his voice. "Really? This is the first time I've been informed."

Dream didn't humor him. "You know Tommy is still exiled from L'Manberg, right?"

"I do. This is not L'Manberg, Dream. He wouldn't be trespassing even if he were here."

"Maybe, but Tommy has very clear instructions on where he is supposed to stay during his exile and I'm still responsible for his wellbeing. I need to know where he is at all time, so he doesn't run off and get himself into even more trouble." Dream took obvious pleasure in hanging his authority over Phil's head, whose fingers dug into the door in answer.

"Tommy doesn't need you to look after him I can assure you," Phil deadpanned back. "Regardless, he isn't with me. Would that be all?"

Dream took a step forward, crowding into Phil's personal space. "If that's true you won't mind me coming inside and having a look around."

"I mind because it's an invasion of privacy." But Phil did move back and held out his arm to usher Dream inside. When the masked man's back was turned he glanced at the box. Tommy put his hands over his mouth, suddenly paranoid that his own ragged breathing would give him away.

"How's he doing?" Dream asked as he looked around the small cabin and Tommy realized he was talking about Technoblade, still clutching Phil's coat.

"He's fine," Phil said sharply as he followed Dream around, shutting down any attempts at further conversation. Dream didn't seem to care, halfheartedly peering down the trapdoor that led to the basement. He disappeared up the ladder to the bedroom alone, coming back mere moments later.

"Why do you have three beds?"

Tommy pressed his hands closer together to kill any space existing between his intertwined fingers, heart skipping a full beat. He felt like he was going to throw up, which in a small confined space wasn't the best of ideas.

"We sleep upstairs, This is just a spare," Phil didn't hesitate to answer. Tommy thought he might have anticipated the question. He couldn't tell if Dream believed the lie, but if he didn't he had decided to not pry any further.

With an easy roll of his shoulders, Dream started making his way back to the door. "Thanks for your cooperation. I trust you'll tell me if you do see him? It's important to keep the server safe."

Phil cocked his head. "How could the whereabouts of a single person matter that much to the server at large? He's just a kid, Dream."

"Yeah? Lately it seems there's a lot of strange stuff going on with the people on this server that I don't know about." He looked at the small piglin still at Phil's feet. Techno defiantly stared back, baring his tusks a few inches. "It's my job to keep things in check, Phil. Despite what you guys might think. I'm doing it for everyone's betterment. Somebody has to."

Tilting his head up to stare at Phil, they locked eyes and didn't look away. Dream was still standing at the open door, leaning back slightly on his heels. Phil stood in the middle of the room, close to the chest Tommy was hiding in and keeping it from view. Neither wanted to break first.

The stalemate was interrupted by Techno, who took a deep breath and then addressed Dream with more conviction than Tommy had heard him use in... well, ever.

"Bitch!"

Tommy was distinctly glad he had been breathing shallowly for a while now or he might have choked. Phil tensed and even Dream was in shock.

"I- Wait, what... Did you just-" The menacing air around him had evaporated in an instant. You just don't recover that quickly from a toddler calling you a bitch to your face. Dream sputtered. "What did I even do?"

Techno didn't answer but stuck out his tongue.

"You should go," Phil said humorously. "You're upsetting the child."

Techno frowned at being called a child but was too busy death glaring at Dream to do anything about it.

"Right, right, I'll get out of your hair." Dream held his hands up disarmingly, walking out of the house backward. "I'll be in touch."

Tommy waited another ten minutes just to be sure he was gone before he could bring himself to climb out of the crate.

He couldn't sleep.

The wind beat harrowingly into the outside of the cabin, creeping beneath the shingled roof to play shrill notes against the exterior and Tommy had been lying there for hours staring at the ceiling. Wondering if maybe he could trace the patterns long enough so that he would get completely lost in them.

If he closed his eyes, the only lines he saw were those of the crooked smile painted on Dream's mask.

He dug his nails into his skin again, harder this time. Not enough to draw blood, but just on the edge of pain where he could think straight. In for four seconds, hold for seven, out for eight. Just like Wilbur had taught him.

In the bed across from him, Technoblade was curled up underneath the covers, the lump moving slightly from time to time. The piglin's breathing had grown unsteady, changing from the slow pace of deep sleep to something high-pitched and wheezing. Tommy thought he might be having a nightmare, but then the child rolled over and shot upright. Techno's eyes were wide and searching. Looking for Phil. When he could not find the other man he whined lowly in his throat, distressed.

"Techno?" Tommy called out, fingers relaxing to curl into the blankets instead.

Those red eyes settled on him, glistening in the room's low light. "Tom!" Techno slid from the blankets and noiselessly made his way over to Tommy's bed. He hesitated.

"Come here." Tommy lifted the cover to allow his brother to slide under them too.

He had to scoot until his back was pressed into the wall to make room for the both of them to fit, but Tommy couldn't say he minded. Techno pressed his snout into Tommy's chest, lying so close against him he could feel the rise and fall of his chest. His fur tickled against the underside of Tommy's chin where he rested it on top of Techno's head, draping one arm over his brother's side.

They had done this before, he couldn't help but think. Ages ago, in a past he could hardly remember. Which hardly felt real anymore, making Tommy doubt his own memories. But he knew it had been. The positions might have been reversed, Tommy being the one who was so painfully small but felt harbored and protected when he nestled into his older brothers' arms. Technoblade grumbling his half-hearted annoyance at being disturbed while reading and Wilbur laughing as he played a new song for them on his guitar. All three of them drifting off together.

"Toms," Techno whimpered into his shirt. Even beneath the childlike changes to his voice, Tommy recognized all that which he had grown familiar with. All that which he had grown to love and hate alike.

Tommy couldn't remember the last thing he had said to Technoblade before he died. Probably something awful.

"Hurts." Techno nudged into him closer, trying to get away from something that was already stuck in his own head. Prying at the confines of his skull. "It hurts."

"I know, big man." Tommy held his brother that much tighter for it. "I know."