Requested by KillTheActor: Technoblade has a very unpleasant dream.

Technoblade knew something was wrong because the house was too quiet.

Which was just not something that ever happened. He couldn't recall the last time he had been able to enjoy peace inside the cabin itself, usually he went outside to seek solitude for that very reason.

Inside there was always the sound of Phil baking or crafting or reading out loud to himself in that musical lilt he used when he thought nobody was listening.

Inside there was always the sound of Wilbur playing his favorite songs or composing new ones or scribbling in his notebooks while muttering under his breath.

Inside there was always Tommy who... Tommy seemed to produce noises simply by existing within a physical space.

But it was quiet and cold, cold enough to make the goosebumps rise on Techno's skin so he rubbed at his arms. He felt like if he breathed out he would be able to see the condensation from his exhales, but that wasn't possible.

He was in his room and then he was walking down the hallway. Wilbur's bedroom door was nearest to his and he opened it slowly with one hand, a horrible squelching noise the first thing to fill the silence. The door refused to budge. Confused, Techno pushed a bit harder, struggling to move the wood through the moist resistance it seemed to be encountering.

When he looked down, red filled his vision.

Technoblade stumbled away from the door, hitting the wall with his back while his heart ran rampant. No- He sprung forward to force the door open the rest of the way or kick it in if need be. "Wilbur?!"

The room was empty, but what streaked both the floor and furniture was unmistakably blood.

A lot of it too - so much blood - and what shot through him was abject in both horror and fear, despicable in excitement. He ignored it in favor of scanning the room frantically but there was no body, no Wilbur. Maybe it wasn't his blood, maybe he was somewhere else?

He nearly sprinted down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of Tommy's door and this time Techno wasted no time before throwing his shoulder into it, bashing it open with undue force that nearly broke the hinges.

Blood, blood, more blood

Panic was quickly blotting out reason. Tommy's room was empty as well, aside from the horribly visceral display made by the blood coating most surfaces. Technoblade sped towards Phil's door, knowing already what he would find but unable to stop from checking anyway. It almost felt like he couldn't move, muscles locked in place while a heavy weight pulled down on the base of his neck.

Blood for the blood god

He shook it off. They weren't here. Their rooms were covered in blood but they weren't here. Maybe they were fine? Techno called out his family's names into the horrible silence, walking around the house. Suddenly he was downstairs, staring at the emptiness of their home. The crafting table with a half-finished project abandoned, Wilbur's guitar sat against the couch. One of the chairs was pulled back from the table as if somebody had just left.

The hatch to the basement was open.

They didn't go in there unless they were looking for supplies, gearing up to visit the Nether or headed out to search for a woodland mansion. Why would the hatch be left open?

Technoblade climbed down in stutters, slowly. Distantly he could tell there was something truly wrong about all this – and about the way he was perceiving the world. But it wasn't filtering through so he couldn't question it. It was cold. He stepped off the ladder's last rung and turned around, squinting into the half-light.

The sight before him sent his world falling apart.

He scrambled and slipped and then he was pulling Tommy into his lap, shaking the unresponsive body of his younger brother with increasing distress. Tommy's head lolled to the side uselessly, eyes wide and vacant and there was blood trailing from his mouth, staining the front of his shirt.

He had been torn open.

"Wait, no, Tommy, please-" Words were coming from him in rambles but Techno couldn't even concentrate on what he was saying, vision blurred by tears and clutching desperately. Wilbur's corpse was curled up next to Tommy's, skin pale and blemished with scratches. Phil laid slightly to the side, blade still held in his hand as if he had died trying to protect his children.

Technoblade couldn't breathe. Why was this happening? Had he slept through some kind of attack?

Or had it been his fault?

He didn't know where that thought came from, how it managed to worm its way in but it sounded so right yet all warped at the same time and he stumbled back, dropping Tommy on the floor. His hands were covered in blood. Fresh blood.

Their blood

He had killed them.

Techno covered his ears, trying to find himself in the sudden flood of voices but they kept repeating the accusation until he knew it must be true. He had killed them and it was all his fault this was happening.

And the voices cheered in appreciation.

He woke up so violently he ended up falling off his bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. Technoblade grunted, blinking at the ceiling while he tried to stop his heart from beating its way out of his ribcage. It didn't help that every time he closed his eyes for even a second the image from his nightmare tried pushing its way to the forefront of his mind again, making him want to retch. His body was shaking, not from the cold this time.

The door opened and Phil poked his head inside, ever mindful of how touchy Techno was about people coming into his room without permission. "Tech, you okay mate?" The strained worry in his voice was ill-concealed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Techno answered automatically, a force of habit. It wasn't very convincing to his own ears.

Phil seemed to agree, because he frowned, pushing the door open a little more but still not entering. "You sure? Because you were kind of making a lot of uh... noise. And also you're on the floor."

"I wanted a change of scenery."

The small laugh he got in response told him Phil hadn't been satisfied by that reply either but then Wilbur was in the doorway too, curly hair sticking up at odd angles. "What's going on, you're making a ruckus."

Tommy wasn't far behind. Of course this had to become a family event, just his luck they'd all turn up when he least wanted them to. The boy was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning without covering his mouth. "I thought the house was collapsing, the entire floor fucking shook."

"Very funny," Techno said, picking up the pillow that had fallen off the bed with him and throwing it at his brother's face. It missed pathetically. "I just fell, okay?"

It was a stupid thing to admit to, but still better than revealing why he had fallen in the first place.

Unsurprisingly, Tommy snorted and Wilbur shook his head. Going by the frown on Phil's face however, his casual dismissal had not been very reassuring. Techno looked away. For some reason he couldn't stand seeing their faces; the memory of the nightmare was still too fresh in his mind. The phantom guilt of his nightmare tugged on him relentlessly.

"Well, since we're all up anyway would anybody like hot chocolate?" Phil asked. He was looking at Techno with that expression on his face which meant they were definitely going to have a more thorough talk about this later, but Techno was glad for the distraction all the same.

"Only if I can have marshmallows in mine," Tommy demanded but he was already speeding off before getting an answer. Phil followed after him to make sure he wouldn't ransack the entire kitchen.

Wilbur stayed in the doorway, watching with a contemplative frown as Techno picked himself up from the floor and threw his pillow and blanket back onto the bed. As Techno passed by him, Wilbur grabbed his elbow.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

Techno stilled. "You sound like Phil."

Wilbur huffed, puffing up his cheeks in indignation. "Wow, rude. Seriously though?"

"Yeah, just..." He inclined his head. "Bad dreams." He knew Wilbur would know better than to ask for the details.

His arm moved from Techno's elbow up his arm and then it was wrapping around his back, pulling him closer. Techno allowed his brother to pull him into the embrace, sighing at the feeling of Wilbur's heartbeat which he could feel through his shirt where they were pressed together.

He was alive. They all were.

Wilbur stepped back but left his hand lingering nonchalantly on Techno's shoulder. "Let's go get that hot chocolate than before Tommy steals it all."

Technoblade hummed, noticing suddenly he didn't feel as cold anymore.