HAH, you thought this was just a techno whump fic? surprise, we have other characters too!

Phil returned to the server exactly two weeks after leaving it.

The journey had made him weary – not in a bad way but in the sense that he was feeling the pull of homesickness on his bones. Wanderlust had always flown through his veins and sooner or later he would crave the change again. Long for the call of faraway servers full of strange people and arcane knowledge, the simple pleasures of changing your outlook in more manners than one.

But at the end of the day, there was no place like home. And while home was a fluid thing for Phil, a place easily uprooted and taken along to be made anew somewhere else, home was now here. The small patch of Arctic wilderness that they called their own.

He sent a message to Techno as soon as his communicator allowed him to, being back in range of the server's network. Receiving no answer was hardly a surprise, Phil simply assumed the other was busy and absorbed in his work. It wouldn't be the first time.

They could catch up later.

The sight of his little home was a welcome one after being away so long; Phil spread out his wings and allowed them to balance him as he trudged through ankle-deep snow. After opening the door and waving away the small cloud of dust that had predictably accumulated over his absence, he breathed in the familiar scent of home.

Phil went about settling in again, the slow process of rekindling the fire and putting away his things – both that which he had taken on the journey and that which he had brought back. Pulling out an item carefully wrapped in cloth, he undid the twine keeping it safe. Within lay a golden clasp, the kind used to hold your cloak in place. The metalwork was not very intricate, sacrificing delicacy for sturdiness, but was made to resemble the wheel of Fortuna and was meant to serve as a token of good luck. Phil had found it at a little market and immediately bought it for Technoblade, feeling it was oddly suitable.

He tucked it into his coat.

By the time he was done cleaning up, the sun had sunk close to the horizon, a sliver of red visible over the thin vision of the sea in the distance. Phil picked up his hat and put it back on, preparing to face the cold again. Technoblade still hadn't answered which meant he probably saw Phil's message but forgot to reply. He should be home by now anyway, not being one to venture out at night needlessly.

But when Phil was knocking on the door, the windows were still suspiciously dark. He tried to peer in through one shaded pane but couldn't see anything. Pulling out the communicator again he sent another message.

Hey mate, where are you hanging out? I brought goodies.

No response. Not only that, but the message didn't even go through. And with dawning horror, Phil realized the first one hadn't either, which he hadn't noticed earlier. Technoblade's communicator wasn't turned off, it was completely disconnected.

Which could only mean it was broken or off-server. Phil halted, unsure of the logical conclusion he'd come to. It just didn't make sense. Technoblade would never leave without at least giving him a passing notice. And there'd be no reason for him to run around without a functioning communicator either, they had plenty of supplies to fix them up.

An emotion he'd almost call dread swept through him.

"Phil, you're back!"

The sound of a voice behind him made Phil jump, but it was merely Ranboo returning to his shack. Phil was relieved to see him, though he couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease. "Ranboo, how've you been?"

They made small talk for a passing few minutes, though Phil noticed he wasn't taking in as much of what the other was saying as was deemed polite. He wasn't in the mind for conversation, instead steering it towards his worries at hand.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen Technoblade today, have you?"

Ranboo straightened, frown tugging at his face. "Oh, I uh-" he cut himself off to retrieve the book held safely within his inventory at all times, sifting through it with a speed that kind of made Phil dizzy. He was glad though. When they just met Ranboo would never take out his memory book with Phil around. A natural state of distrust, given its importance. Ranboo was also understandably self-conscious about his need to record his daily activities and thoughts just to be able to keep track of them.

But over the course of their friendship, he had grown more comfortable with Phil.

"Hm, I don't think so?" Ranboo slowed down, pouting at the page. His tail flicked in agitation. "I wrote down that I wondered where he went three days ago but... I forgot. I've been busy with uh- a thing." Guilt crossed his features and Phil patted his elbow, finding it a small victory that Ranboo did not pull away from his touch.

"That's alright, I'm just worried."

With a tilt of the head, Ranboo put his book away. "Why?"

"He's not answering me." As if to demonstrate, Phil pulled out his communicator again. Ranboo pulled out his own, tapping away at the screen for a moment. He must have come to the same conclussion as Phil had and his expression became even more distressed.

"Disconnected? Oh, that's... That's not good is it?"

"I don't know," Phil admitted. He turned towards the door, trying the handle and finding it unlocked. Going in without a second thought, he heard Ranboo's nervous footsteps to indicate the other was following him inside.

Phil's heart stammered at the sight before them.

Not dissimilar to his own house, Technoblade's items and furniture were coated in a thin layer of dust. Nothing had been touched for a while, by the looks of it. On the table was a pot of tea Phil vaguely remembered brewing the day he left, one cup still posed perfectly on the table. The other lay on the floor in shards.

Technoblade was nowhere to be found.

"Anything?"

Phil shook his head, watching Ranboo pace in circles. He wanted to help – do something to calm Ranboo down. It pulled at a paternal instinct in his consciousness Phil could never fully deny. But his own concern had formed a repugnant coil in his gut and it was distracting enough for him to have trouble keeping himself collected. He'd have to deal with that later.

"I got in touch with the Hypixel servers, just in case he went there or passed through and forgot to let us know." Saying it out loud only drove home how much of a long shot it had been. Technoblade wouldn't leave. Not without telling them. Not without taking his items. "Sam was... cooperative. He assured me he's not in the prison."

Ranboo stopped walking, back hunched. "Do you believe him?"

"Yes," Phil answered without hesitance. "Sam wouldn't lie."

"Okay. Okay, that's good right? Techno not being in prison is good?" Ranboo held his own elbows, offering himself a pantomime of comfort.

Phil rather thought the answer depended on where else Techno could be but didn't say so out loud. Some things were better left unspoken. "It's a start."

"But where do we go from here?"

Phil sat down, the weariness enough to make some resolve crumble. He brushed through his hair, feeling the dangling of metal from his ear. His fingers curled around the emerald, its unbroken surface slightly warm to the touch.

Technoblade was alive, at least. Thanks to the friendship emeralds Phil would know if he wasn't. And while it did little to waylay the worst of his worries, it was a small consolation. A promise to get him back.

"We'll have to ask for help."