This is set in the same AU as chapter 37 (hence the matching title hehe)

Basically: canon divergence where instead of Ranboo dying during the jailbreak, Techno exchanges his freedom for Ranboo's safety and goes back in prison. Sam proceeds to have the breakdown of the century and it's unpleasant for all involved.

TRIGGER WARNING for some suicidal ideation in this chapter

Technoblade has been sick for over a week when Sam realizes it might not just be an act.

He has automated the system to deliver food and water to the prisoner, reducing all possible needs he could have to enter the cell to near zero. Each time the lava comes down it makes a risk, each time the platform crosses over it creates an opportunity.

Sam refuses to let Technoblade escape. Not again.

But a few days ago Techno started to get weaker - or pretended to, Sam had assumed. A trick to get him to let his guard down. A ruse to get Sam into the cell and expose a flaw to be exploited. He did not care to give in to it, nor check up on the prisoner's well-being. If Sam waited long enough, surely Techno would cease his dramatics.

Eight days have passed when Technoblade stops moving altogether.

"Get up and eat your meals, prisoner. They will be taken away from you if you do not comply."

The newly installed intercom plays static feedbacks of silence at Sam. The cameras do not show anything. Technoblade does not get up to retrieve his food, five servings worth of it left untouched.

Nearly three days without eating.

Sam does not feel concerned. Empathy has no place within these obsidian walls (not anymore). But he is accountable for any prisoner's health, it's an important duty as the warden. That's why he collects his things and makes his way to the maximum-security cell. The lava comes down in currents, excess dripping off the walls.

When Sam lowers the barrier and gets into the cell proper, Technoblade doesn't stir. He's curled up in a corner of the room with the one blanket he was given bunched up to use as a pillow. Sam waits for him to do something - to jump up and try to overpower him. This escape attempt will be a coordinated act, planned with deliberation. Technoblade must be waiting for Sam to let his guard down.

But nothing happens.

Sam picks up the food and throws it into the lava, the smell of it putrid and sour. A similar scent hangs over the entire room and it takes him a moment to identify the source. Technoblade has puked in the toilet. Perhaps - Sam is starting to admit - the sickness wasn't a ruse after all.

"Prisoner." The prisoner doesn't acknowledge being addressed. Sam gets closer, hand still hovering over the hilt of his sword just in case. He swallows. "Technoblade?"

At least he gets a reaction. Technoblade jolts, startled by the use of a name he hasn't heard in months. He half rolls over and Sam notices how pale he is, skin shiny with sweat. With glassy red eyes, Techno stares at him for a moment, barely opening his mouth to speak.

"Ph'l?"

(Sam does not feel bad for the prisoners)

"Technoblade, it's me." He kneels by his side. Techno's chin tilts to follow the movement, a little more conscious.

There's a grin that finds its place on his face, brittle and fake. Sam can see the gap where two of Techno's teeth were knocked out during punishment recently.

(he does not feel bad)

"Warden… to what do I owe the pleasure?" Head falling back onto the pillow, Techno closes his eyes and curls up again - too exhausted to keep them open. His body shakes, tremors or muscle spasms or both. A fever.

"You've been neglecting to eat your meals," Sam says.

"Wasn't hungry."

"It's not healthy."

Techno laughs, sharp and cynical. Sam supposes he deserves that. One arm Techno keeps curled around his stomach, where the wound from that same punishment is festering. Infection is what made him sick.

(Sam's fault)

No. Sam's responsibility to deal with, however.

"Get up." He reaches out to grab Techno's elbow and the piglin flinches away from him, scared to be hurt again.

"Don't-"

"I'm trying to help you," Sam says with impatience - but it falls short against the fresh scars covering Technoblade's skin, the sunken lines on his face with bags beneath the eyes, the mess that his chopped short hair makes.

(he does not feel bad)

Techno doesn't flinch again, neither does he pull away. Sam doesn't think he has the strength for it. He manhandles the prisoner into a more suitable position to do what he has to do, to deal with his injury. The gash is scabbed over but not in a way that looks normal. The flesh around it is puffed up and reddened when Sam pulls Techno's shirt up. He tries not to look at how noticeable the prisoner's ribs are beneath his skin, a frame of hard muscle eaten away at due to a lack of nutrients.

(Sam should have done this earlier. pathetic, he couldn't even complete his one remaining task)

"Don't move," he says as he gets out the potion and a dagger. The infected flesh must be cut away before any healing can be applied. "This will be painful."

Techno shakes his head. "It's fine, leave it."

"If I do not treat the wound you will die," Sam answers.

A small exhale, Techno's eyes narrowing again. They're not blank anymore - for the first time in too long there is full awareness behind them. Techno knows exactly what it means when Sam says that.

"I know. Leave it."

(he does not feel bad)

"I can't." Sam does not apologize. "Try not to move."

He has to press down on Techno's shoulder with his free hand to keep him still, not wanting the knife to sink too deep and cause more damage. The prisoner doesn't make a noise that betrays pain, probably too used to it by now. He only shakes his head more.

Techno pushes at him helplessly, fever-heated skin against cold netherite armor. Sam doesn't blink (doesn't feel bad) and continues hacking away at infected tissue.

"Stop," Techno begs of him. "I don't care, just- Sam, stop!"

(the warden hasn't tolerated his name from the prisoner's mouth in a while, but he lets it slide)

"This is for your own good," he says.

This is for your own good, he thinks even as the puss and blood drain from the reopened wound. This is for your own good, he thinks when Techno's arms finally fall limp at his side unable to keep up the struggle. This is for your own good, he thinks as something too close to a sob tears through the prisoner's chest.

He applies the potion and watches the injury seal itself properly.

"Your next meal will be delivered shortly." Sam gets up, the blood sticky on his hands. The smell of rot too heavy. "Eat it. Do not make me come back."

Techno doesn't react. Maybe he passed out, Sam doesn't know. He doesn't want to know.

(he doesn't want to feel bad)

This is for your own good, he reminds himself while standing on a platform ten feet above the swirling mass of lava and wondering if either of them would jump into it if they had the chance, the notion to. If he wasn't the warden, perhaps he would consider it.

If he wasn't the warden, he wouldn't be much of anything. So long as there is a prisoner in Pandora's box, he would endure.

(So really, this is all for Sam's own good)