Things changed after they got back.

Not all at once, not immediately. But gradually like the rising of the sun. Like the shifting of the tide. Ranboo had learned a thing or two about recovery over the years.

He thought going back would be a bad idea because for him it had been. After building his shack and while still in the middle of getting used to the colder tundra climate, he had gone back to the crater of L'manburg. And he had stared at the ruined remains of his panic room wondering if the cracked walls had ever really harbored him. They had felt like they did when he built them, but maybe all Ranboo had really done was lock himself in with his own fears.

For Techno, Ranboo assumed revisiting that awful place would work the same. That all it would do was remind him of the memories that kept him up at night, and the nightmares that plagued him when he finally did fall asleep.

But when he kneeled down and held Techno while he cried, Ranboo knew he had been wrong.

There had been something here that Technoblade had needed to see. Maybe it was something that they would never understand – neither Phil nor Ranboo would probably ever hear the exact details of what this place did to Techno, how it broke him down, how it sunk into his bones.

(Maybe wanting to find out was where they went wrong. Because all they really needed to do was be there for him when he tried to put himself back together again)

Techno cried, and he did so in a way Ranboo had never expected of him. It was loud and messy and he wiped his snotty nose on Phil's robes, gasping for breaths that had been stolen from him by heart-wrenching sobs. His entire body wouldn't stop shaking, which had Ranboo's nails digging into his shoulders to keep him from falling over.

And when he was done his cheeks were red and his eyes all puffy and some ash stained his hair from the fire that was starting to die out. Gone was the place that had caused all this trauma and the person who did it too. Their body charred and made to bone. There was nothing left of it, except Technoblade and the scars he'd keep forever.

That's how those things tended to turn out, Ranboo thought.

"We don't mention this," Techno said then, wiping at his face. It didn't really help. "I'm serious you guys, if this gets out to anyone I'm on the murder path. It's not- I'm not emotional, okay. I'm just not."

"I'll take your secret to my grave," Ranboo said with a solemn nod.

"Yeah, nobody ever needs to find out you're secretly a big sap, mate," Phil chimed in. Techno glared at him, but them treating Techno as if nothing had changed with this little breakdown clearly was a relief to him.

Carl neighed from his spot tied to a tree. Ranboo couldn't tell if he was anxious about the fire or somehow able to sense his owner's distress from a distance, but all the same, Techno smiled and turned towards him.

"Let's go home," he said decisively.

The three of them left, never to return to that wicked place.

And after that is when the changes began.

Ranboo had a routine at night. He would come home from being out – either exploring near their bases or visiting Snowchester or hanging out with Tommy or Wilbur or whomever – and then he would kindle the fire, set some potions to brewing, and sit at the table near his window. Often, he would write in his memory book the events of the day or any information he wanted to keep safe for later.

With the curtain open he could see Techno's house across the plain of ice and snow outside, sometimes concealed by a dense fog of flurried snow thrown up by the wind. And through the thicket, the curtained window with the telltale flickering of light behind it signaling Technoblade was still awake. Ranboo waited and wrote in his book.

If Techno's fire was still not doused by the time Ranboo was done with his work, he pulled his rain-proof garments on again and braved the cold to make it to Techno's cabin. They would talk or sit in silence – either worked for them. Until they were both so exhausted they couldn't help but fall asleep on the couch again. And Techno wasn't woken up by nightmares anymore.

If there was no light, it meant Techno had gone to bed and Ranboo would do the same.

More and more often, his coat would not leave the rack next to his door. More and more often, Ranboo slept in his own bed.

And more and more often he would greet Techno in the mornings with a nod and a smile and not see dark bags of exhaustion underneath his eyes.

Ranboo kept up looking out the window before going to bed though, just in case.

Ranboo hardly noticed the cane anymore.

It was simply another part of Technoblade's appearance by now. The crown, the cloak, the flash of wood peeking through the fabrics when he moved a particular way or sped up his pace, leaning onto the cane more. An extension of his arm in battle.

Phil had decorated it more – emerald inlaid in the handle, bands of gold around the wood, and at the tip they had formed a hexagram by sharpening the metal. Perfect for Techno to lean on if his leg needed the additional support when walking around, but with the added bonus of doubling as a deadly surprise in case of an attack.

"Move your shoulders back more," Techno advised him while they sparred. He said Ranboo would have an easier time applying corrections when he could immediately feel and see the effect they would have.

And it was true. He pushed his shoulders back a little, catching the next blow of Techno's cane with his leather gauntlet much easier. The aftershock didn't send him careening as it did before.

Techno grinned, bringing the cane down from the opposite side. "Good. Again!"

Ranboo continued practicing his blocks. When he had asked Techno to train him in combat so he could improve, he'd been surprised to find Techno wanted him to work on his parries first. "A good defense is all the offense you need," Techno had told him. Ranboo would take his word for it.

He enjoyed those afternoons they spent together too much to complain.

Some days were still worse than others.

Some days Ranboo knew Techno couldn't shake things off as easily. When Phil or he found the hounds baying in dismay over not haven gotten their breakfast, they knew it would be one of those days.

All they could do then was distract Technoblade in as much as they could. Ranboo always kept some repetitive chores on the back burner so he could ask Techno for his help getting them done. Phil made sure he had at least one project that could use more supplies gathered.

And when a stray touch to his shoulder would set Techno off, they sat with him to help him breathe. Ranboo's panic attacks and Technoblade's panic attacks weren't that alike. Ranboo needed contact, to be grounded. Would crave the feeling of somebody keeping him safe.

(Phil had learned the hard way that trying to hug Techno when he was going through reliving his trauma was not a great idea)

Techno needed space, and a voice to guide him back. He needed to breathe and lights, so many lights. The very thought of darkness was death to him when terror took hold.

But inadvertently he would come back again.

Ranboo would be there, with hot cocoa and a book he could ask Technoblade to read to him. Phil would be there too, with gentle fingers to brush and braid Techno's hair. The three of them inside, warm and cozy and within arm's reach of each other.

Ranboo almost started to miss those bad days when they got rarer and rarer with time.

Niki was carrying a tray Ranboo was half convinced had to be bigger than her. It was hard to see with the towels covering it, protecting its precious cargo from the small drifting of snow coming down today. He had offered to take it from her twice, but she insisted it was fine.

"You could uh... you could get the door?" Niki managed, standing with one foot still on the wooden staircase outside Technoblade's cabin. She looked seconds away from tumbling over.

"Oh, now you want my help," Ranboo said smugly, but he did open the door.

Technoblade was already at the table, shifting through a bunch of papers Ranboo thought at first glance might be blueprints. Phil was standing next to him, they were talking under their breaths. When they saw the other two had arrived, they cut their conversation short.

"Yo, Niki!" Techno shuffled the papers back into one heap.

"Hey guys." She put the tray on the table with some difficulty. "What are you looking at?"

"You'll find out in a minute," Phil said mysteriously. "First, tell me what you brought. I can make tea."

Niki smiled, pulling the towels away with a flourish. Ranboo bent over to curiously inspect the strange treats. They were spherical, made of a hollowed-out cake with a yellow-tinged cream filling and slices of orange on top.

"Oh, it's not much," Niki said. "I just threw something together quickly." She hadn't quite gotten out of the habit of talking herself down yet.

"Black tea," Phil decided after a moment. "That'll pair nicely."

For the moment, they weren't using the Syndicate headquarters he had built. The entrance and exit weren't great on Techno's leg, and the cold dampness of the underground meeting room clearly made him uncomfortable. Phil was still busy fixing these small issues, but until then they simply met up in Techno's house.

"Alright then," Techno started once they had all settled. Ranboo stilled at the serious expression on his face. How the piglin drew his stature straight to show he was getting down to business, clicking his claw on the table.

Ranboo couldn't remember seeing him look like that since... since before this all started.

Techno cleared his throat when he saw all eyes were on him. "It's time we talk about a favor owed."

I promise I didn't forget about this story, I had the final chapter in my drafts for ages but just... didn't know it hadn't been uploaded. WhoopS