There was no place he could run to where his master could not follow.

They could track him by the trail of blood he left against stone hallways, dragging his fractured leg behind him. Technoblade could feel their hot breath tickle against the back of his neck.

And no matter how much he struggled there was no escape.

When they caught up to him, it was already over. Fingers digging into his throat and forcing the breath out of him. Their face the only thing that framed his vision, grin sharp and gleeful.

Techno wanted to scream but couldn't.

"P-Please!" He pried at their arms with all his strength, a drop of saline in the ocean and Techno barely noticed the panicked tears streaming down his face. "Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry sir, take me back I'll be good-" He wasn't ready to die.

But their frown told him he'd been too much of a disappointment to ever be forgiven.

"I warned you about what would happen if you didn't listen to me," they said. The tug was sudden and then he felt his hair being chopped short all over again. Their knee dug into his side, into the brand mark that burned like it did when they forced it on him the first time. Theirs forever. The skin peeled off, leaving an open festering mess behind with visible tissue exposed to the air.

"This is what happens when you're not mine anymore."

His entire body convulsed in an effort to throw them off, which surprisingly enough worked. But something else had a hold on Techno as well, making him renew his bucking. The loose fabric had tangled in his legs and made it difficult to move. When Techno tried to throw it off and scramble to the corner of his cell to hide he hit the headrest of a bed instead.

Which confused him almost enough to pull him from his panicked state. He didn't get a bed, he never had one aside from that once when he was sick. And that was only for a little while, plus it had been his own fault. He had been bad. He pulled his knees up to his chest, the blanket still bunching around his hooves in a knotted mess.

Suddenly he realized somebody was talking to him.

"Techno, are you with us?"

He blinked, shuddered as his mind jolted back to the present all at once and the abruptness of the change was bad enough to make his head pound. Where he had been blind to it moments before, Techno could suddenly tell the familiar walls of a cabin and the sound of the tundra air whistling through trees outside. Must be a snowstorm, he thought idly, then wanted to strangle himself over such a stupid, mundane thought when Phil was still looking at him as if he had sprouted a second head. The worried crease in the avian's forehead made Techno swallow.

"Y-yeah... I'm here."

He wasn't. He was in his cell, on the floor, dying. He was being told to be quiet and be good and kill who he was asked to kill. He was being disobedient and the master would punish him if they found out except Technoblade had already bashed their head open on the floor, blood on his hands and face, eyes rolling back into their skull-

"-chno?"

He nodded aimlessly while forcing his body to unwind from its clenched position with his shoulders tucked in low and arms wrapped around his legs in a futile attempt to protect himself from an enemy that wasn't even there. Phil smiled and slowly lowered his hands from where he had outstretched them as well. Techno realized that must have been the weight he had thrown off him, Phil trying to help keep him calm. He felt sick.

Trying to stretch his leg made him hiss, pain coming back full-force and not drowned out anymore by the nightmare. The longer Technoblade was awake, the more he started to realize every inch of him pretty much hurt one way or another. Phil must have noticed because he stood up and went over to the open hatch that went downstairs. He exchanged a few words with Ranboo – or that's who Techno presumed it to be from the low baritone of their voice and the fact that they were in Phil's house – before coming back to the side of the bed.

"We'll take another look at your injuries in a minute. For now, tell me how you're feeling."

"I'm fine," Techno lied automatically before exhaling and reconsidering his words. "I mean, I've been better. But I'm alive, I guess."

(He was alive while the master wasn't and that's what mattered, probably)

"You are." Phil's eyes wandered over him. Techno could feel the distance between them like a stone set in his stomach.

"C'mere." He threw out one arm and Phil practically fell into the semi-embrace, though he was still exceedingly careful about bumping into any of Techno's wounds or hurt him. His wings moved over them both, almost returning the hug twofold. Phil's hair tickled against the side of Techno's chin, he could feel his own pulse against Phil's heartbeat.

He didn't know why it made him want to bawl.

After only a couple of seconds, it was already starting to smother him. Every part where their skin touched felt set on fire, tingling and unfamiliar with the feeling of being touched tenderly, not meant to harm him. Techno couldn't decide if he wanted this to last forever or to be over as quickly as it started and he shuddered. Thankfully Phil got the message and drew back, hand only lingering on his elbow a moment longer.

Techno flexed his claws and hoped the other didn't notice.

"How long have I been out?"

"Only a day or two. You had a fever for a while that was concerning, but I think the potions helped ward off the worst of it." Phil's palm came up to rest against his forehead and check his temperature. Techno tried not to flinch at the contact. "Seems to have broken now."

He hated this. He hated how parts of him were screaming and crying out to be held, to seek safety in Phil's physical comfort, while other parts wanted to never be touched by anyone ever again.

The ladder creaked when Ranboo's head popped up from below. He seemed to be attempting to balance two platters on one hand while using the other to climb, and Phil rushed over to help him before an imminent disaster could take place.

"You're awake!" Ranboo said once he has managed to make his way over without dropping anything.

Technoblade nodded. "Astute observation."

Ranboo smiled, his tail flicked once. Techno thought he looked different from the last time he'd seen him, but that had been months ago and he couldn't place what had changed. Maybe it was just his memory playing tricks on him.

Phil handed him a glass of water. "Drink this, then we can get some food in you."

Techno hadn't realized how parsed he was until he took the few first swallows of the cold liquid. His entire mouth was sticky from potion residue, so it was nice to drink actual water instead. Finishing the glass in under three seconds, Phil was already exchanging it for another. There were several more on the platter Ranboo had brought.

By the time he felt satisfied he had emptied six of them. For food, they had brought him baked potatoes, probably because they were Techno's favorite. For some reason the sight of them made his gut churn and he didn't really feel like having them at all until he saw Phil's sincere expression of concern at his hesitation.

Techno didn't want to disappoint him. Not even over something as stupid as not wanting to eat his favorite dish.

Ranboo kept up an endless stream of chatter while Techno ate, halting words and clipped off sentences. The kid was never good at small talk – neither was Techno honestly – but he appreciated the effort. The silence would have been too much to bear and it distracted him from the way Phil kept looking at him, observing his little tells. Every wince Techno made when he pulled a sore muscle or moved his leg wrong was noticed.

It was pretty nerve-wracking.

"It's not even that far, maybe you could come over sometime!" He tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Ranboo inviting him to visit... Snowchester was it? Techno should have been paying more attention.

"Hm," he hummed. "Maybe."

With his leg in its current condition, he wouldn't be going anywhere.

"One step at a time," Phil said placatingly, most likely thinking the same thing Techno was. "Speaking of which." His easy smile transformed into a wry grin. "You... want me to do something about your hair, mate?"

Techno's hands came up automatically and he cringed at the feel of tangled knots and filth caught in the strands. Not to mention it being cut so unevenly it probably looked like an axe had been the tool used to chop it. He hated it – he hated it and wanted to scream with it – but something inside him shrunk at the thought of having somebody else touch it, even Phil.

"I don't know-"

"It'll probably help you feel better?"

And Phil was right about that. Techno had always taken pride in his hair, had spent time on growing it out and taking care of it. Braiding it every morning and brushing it out before going to bed. There was no mirror in his cell and neither was there one in this room, so he could hardly imagine what it must look like right now. But it definitely didn't make him feel like himself in its current condition.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do it."

Since it'd be impossible for him to get out of bed, let alone take a proper bath, Phil got a basin instead and filled it with water they had boiled on the stove. They checked his injuries first, redressing the wounds that needed redressing. Ranboo had already cleaned the worst of the filth and blood stuck to his skin while he was unconscious, but Techno washed his face again anyway. The warm water felt nice and he could close his eyes behind the cloth, tune out the world and noise for a moment to pretend it all didn't matter. He tensed when Phil's hand wandered closer to the brand mark, not knowing if he could deal with seeing it. Then Phil moved on, leaving the bandages on his middle in place and Techno could breathe again.

"I think it'll be easiest if you just turn around and lean back." Phil frowned, trying to get the logistics of washing Techno's hair without moving him to work. "Ranboo, could you get me a pitcher or something?"

"On it."

As soon as Ranboo had left, Phil's voice dropped in pitch. "We're going to have to talk about what happened. Not yet, not if you're not ready. But at some point."

Techno turned his head so he could glance over his shoulder. "Thanks." Phil smiled at him.

They washed his hair. Techno leaning back while using his arms to keep from tipping off the bed while Phil poured lukewarm water over the side of his head and worked a comb through the knots. Some of them were stuck more badly and he had to pull hard to get them loose, making Techno grunt in pain. Ranboo was quiet this time, probably scared of disturbing Phil in his work but Techno wished he would talk again. He needed something else to concentrate on. His claws dug into the sheet when Phil yanked particularly hard on a knot.

The master curled their fingers into his hair, dug their nails into his scalp. They dragged his head closer so they could be face to face. Half-lidded red meeting maniacal gray.

They were going to hurt him again.

"I'm done," Phil said loudly. Technoblade released all his muscles before they could cramp from how badly he had tensed up. He wanted to straighten his spine but then Phil clicked his tongue. "It really needs to be cut too."

A confused noise escaped him.

"Yeah, it's kind of... uneven," Ranboo muttered.

"That's putting it mildly. They were hardly a barber, huh." Phil chuckled and Technoblade knew the joke was meant to make him feel better but it didn't.

Because Phil was getting out some scissors and they were in his hand and too close to Techno's throat and suddenly he couldn't see or breath or hear and he was too dizzy to think. The potatoes had made him nauseous and it only built into something worse when Phil carefully grabbed his shoulder.

"Techno? We can wait until another time if you-"

Anxiety spiked and Techno interrupted Phil's well-meant worry. "It's fine, let's get this over with already." Phil frowned but didn't question him. Techno felt pathetic. Stupid and weak.

This was Phil and Phil would never hurt him, he was being ridiculous. There was nothing wrong with him that he shouldn't be able to get over.

Phil worked quickly, cutting off the frayed and asymmetrical lengths of his hair until it looked decent again. It came shy of Technoblade's shoulders now, making him hyper-aware of every brush of pink strands against his neck. That feeling of sickness came back to him full force.

Techno tried to push it down, but then he was gagging and Ranboo jumped to his aid to help him turn around. The basin was pushed onto his lap – emptied of the water they had been using earlier – and Techno retched into it, coughing wetly. His meal had come back up partly digested, the potatoes hardly retaining their texture.

Phil rubbed his back soothingly, Techno didn't have the energy to pull away from his touch this time. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to. "It's okay, you're fine." Technoblade nodded away the hot tears that stung the corners of his eyes.

"It's my fault for thinking your stomach would be able to handle solid food so soon." Phil sounded apologetic, and it made Techno hate himself more. he wanted to tell them this was his fault. He was being bad.

(He thought they probably deserved to punish him for it)

Phil's fingers trailed away, leaving him. "We'll try something lighter next time, mate."

Technoblade could cry from the loss, wanting that comfort back more than he'd ever care about food, but he couldn't say that either.