Techno was not cut out to be a doctor.
When he was in tenth grade, they went on a school trip to a firehouse that also stationed a team of paramedics. All the kids got to sit behind the wheel of the ambulance (something most of them considered incredibly lame at that age already) and try CPR on the creepy dummy. They got a crash course in first aid, and Techno did not retain a single piece of knowledge he acquired that afternoon.
However, they also could not take the small human they had found to a hospital.
Aside from the fact that Tommy would not allow it because he'd be heartbroken if they took the little guy away, Techno was also mildly concerned about what it would mean for them. Knowing humanity, they'd want to experiment on something so abnormal. And Techno might not be big on conspiracy theories, he had a bit of a nagging feeling that you wouldn't be able to discover something this major and then go on with your life as usual. Having his memories erased could be a real concern. A concern Techno didn't think he'd ever have to take seriously when he woke up this morning.
It was all very confusing.
Until three hours ago, tiny humans that lived in your walls and ate your bread only to leave crumbs all over your counters were a myth. Something he read about in books. Now Techno was looking at one. So he was either having a very intense mental breakdown or he'd have to come to terms with them being real.
Lacking a better solution, Techno decided they had no choice but to treat this person the same as they would any other sick human. Just… very, very small.
"Tommy, can you go downstairs and find a box of matches? I think Dad keeps some in the utility closet." Techno took the tiny person from Tommy's hands, feeling very awkward holding something so human-shaped in his palms. It was off-putting. Tommy nodded breathlessly, the yelling from earlier having worn him out.
While he was off getting the matches, Techno carried the small person into Tommy's room. There was no specific reason for why he picked that room aside from it being the most nearby. Carefully, Techno tried to see if there were any visible injuries on them or anything else that would indicate what was wrong. They seemed to just be passed out for no reason.
However, they were very pale and curled in on themselves. Maybe something was wrong with their stomach.
Tommy hurried back in with the box of matches. "What next, what next?!"
"Okay, now empty it and fill it up with tissue paper. Or maybe cotton wipes." Techno didn't know if one would be better than the other.
"Are we making a little bed for him?" Tommy asked.
"Isn't that what you're supposed to do with sick people? Tuck them in?" Techno said.
Tommy stared at him a moment longer. "You have no fucking clue what you're doing?!"
"What gave you that impression? I didn't get my medical license when you weren't looking, Tommy."
At least his little brother was too frantic to keep complaining, running off again to do as Techno had asked. While he did that, Techno very gently pressed his thumb against the small person's forehead. He definitely was warmer than Techno would expect, though he had no way of knowing if it meant a fever or if these tiny humans just naturally produced more body heat. He'd assume the former for now.
When Tommy returned, they emptied the matchbox and filled it with soft, improvised bedding instead. Techno got another tiny shred of tissue and drenched it in cold water, to put on the little guy's forehead. Maybe it wasn't enough though.
He had an idea. A silly idea, but an idea all the same.
"Keep an eye on him," he said. They had put the matchbox-slash-bed on Tommy's side table and he was kneeling next to it anxiously.
"What are you going to do?" Tommy asked.
"Math."
With the leaflet he found tucked away along their ibuprofen on one side, and his laptop open on an obscure research into the effects of painkillers on mice on the other, Techno was more or less able to estimate how much of the medicine they could give without threatening to instantly overdose the smaller body of this tiny person. He'd dilute it with a tiny bit of extra water just to be safe.
"If I'm not horribly mistaken, having him take this when he wakes up should help a lot," Techno said when he walked back into the bedroom. Tommy looked up at him, a pensive expression on his face. "What?" Techno asked.
"Should we tell Dad about this?"
"Wh- yes, Tommy, we should tell Dad about this." Techno crossed the room to stand next to him. Staring down at the sleeping humanoid in the matchbox, Techno still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that this was really happening. "He's not some pet we can try to keep hidden."
"You thought he was a mouse," Tommy accused.
"Well, yeah, but-" Techno bit his tongue. He probably shouldn't be making up excuses right now, even though he didn't think that he did anything wrong. How was he to know the rules of reality would suddenly not apply anymore? That wasn't what Tommy was fishing for.
Techno dismissed Tommy's stories as nothing but an overactive imagination. He dismissed Tommy.
"I'm sorry for not believing you," he said. He knew that's what Tommy actually needed to hear. "Not that I'd ever be able to guess this was a thing but, you know." Techno nodded at the small person curled up in the matchbox. They'd filled it with tissues as a mattress, used a rolled-up cotton wipe or two for the pillows, and another tissue served as a blanket. It overall looked very cozy. "I didn't properly look into what you were saying while I should have."
"It's fine," Tommy said. "It's pretty fucking wild, huh?" Then after a few beats of silence, he crossed his arms on the bedside table and leaned his chin onto them, voice muffled when he spoke next. "I'm sorry for saying you and Dad don't care. I know you do."
Techno didn't answer, sitting down on the bed. It probably didn't help that he felt like he hadn't slept in a million years.
"Do you think he'll pay rent?" Tommy asked suddenly. "He doesn't look like he has dug up a lot of treasure."
"Probably not," Techno said. "Who do you think is going around burying all these treasures around the neighborhood anyway?"
"I don't know, rich people." Tommy scowled. "I would never do something so stupid. If I had a treasure, I would use it to pay all our bills for the next ten years and then Dad could quit his job. And he'd have more time to hang with us."
"He's definitely going to freak out when he sees this."
Techno considered if he should send their father a text in advance. The last thing he heard, Tommy and Techno had been in a fight. It'd be pretty funny for him to come home to find them bonding over tiny human healthcare.
"Oh, I made dinner," Techno remembered out loud. "We should probably go have some."
"What about him?" Tommy asked. His concern for this person they'd barely met was kind of endearing.
"He'll be fine for a minute on his own," Techno said. "We'll leave the medicine and some water for him." He'd chipped off the tiniest piece of an ibuprofen tablet, so he left that next to their matchbox-bed. Then Techno got the plastic cap from a toothpaste tube in their bathroom and filled that with water. It probably would work as a glass.
Reluctantly, Tommy followed him downstairs when he was done so they could eat. Techno withstood most of the nine-year-old's questioning, not having any answers to offer.
"Do you think he has a job?" Tommy asked. "If he's not digging up treasure to get rich, maybe he has a job for tiny people. Maybe he's a mailman and he goes into all the houses on our street to deliver mail to others like him."
"I don't know, Tommy, you'd have to ask him." Techno lowered his fork. "Though I feel like more people than us would have noticed it if they had a small person living in the wall."
Then again, they could just all be keeping it a secret.
"Maybe he doesn't need money because he steals all the stuff he needs," Tommy said with wonder. Should Techno be concerned that this child seemed to be enchanted by the idea of large-scale larceny?
"Ask him when he wakes up," he said again.
Tommy was bouncing in his seat at this point. "I'm done eating, can I go up? Please, Techno-"
"Clear your plate first."
He finished up his own food while Tommy did that. By the time he was walking back into Tommy's room, the kid was kneeling next to the bedside table again, fingers gripping tightly in excitement. Techno realized why a moment later, when he saw the slightest amount of movement from between the tissues.
The tiny person they had found was waking up.
For a brief flash, Techno almost panicked because what the heck were they going to say? Would they be able to speak English? What if they spoke another language, or no human language at all? Would they even be capable of understanding them? Techno had been thinking about mice and how small animals were supposedly stupid because their brains were really small. Though mice were also said to be really smart. So which was it?
"Hi!" Tommy said loudly. Techno watched the little person flinch away a little, burrowing deeper into the tissues. He pulled Tommy back a bit by his shoulder.
"Don't scare them."
"I'm saying hi," Tommy responded with a pout. Techno saw the little person was looking at them with a wide, startled gaze. They barely seemed to breathe out of fear.
"Sorry about him," he said. "He's been raised by wolves and has no manners."
Tommy scowled up at him. "I've been raised by you and Dad. You're insulting yourself."
"He's lying," Techno deadpanned. "We found him abandoned in a basket in the woods. Even the wolves didn't want him anymore."
"Fuck you!" Tommy said with a giggle while pushing his legs to try and make him fall over. It didn't so much as unbalance Techno.
Then his attention was drawn by another chuckle. When Techno looked down again, the small person was stifling a laugh into their hands.
They must understand English and have a killer sense of humor if they thought Techno was hilarious.
Tommy noticed too, leaning forward again. The small person still scooted back in their makeshift bed, but seemed a little less scared. "Hi," Tommy said again - mindful to keep his voice lower this time. "My name is Tommy. What's yours?"
"Wilbur." His voice carried surprisingly well coming from somebody no bigger than Techno's hand. "You don't need to introduce yourself, I know who you are."
"Because you've been living in our walls," Tommy said. Not a question, rather a statement with a healthy amount of fascination.
Wilbur shrugged. "They're not anybody's walls, the way I see it."
"They're definitely our walls," Techno said.
Well, who was to say these little creatures had any concept of private property?
Before Wilbur could reply, he doubled over and clasped both arms around his stomach. He coughed harshly, small shoulders heaving with it. Techno slightly nudged the painkiller towards him. "You should take this. Don't worry, I measured the dose."
Wilbur reached out for it at first, but stopped with his fingers clutched around the white chunk. "How do I know this isn't rat poison?" There was some terrible past experience there, reflected in the foul expression on Wilbur's face.
"If we wanted to kill you, don't you think we'd have already done it?" Techno asked.
That only earned him an even worse glare. Tommy elbowed Techno's knee. "We're nice people, I promise. I found you passed out on the floor, I thought you might have gotten hurt. So we just want to help."
Apparently deciding to take their word for it, Wilbur took the medicine. He used the toothpaste cap as a cup, just like Techno predicted. Then, he lay back in the tissues. "Man, I'm tired."
Techno pulled on the back of Tommy's shirt, urging him to get up and give Wilbur some space. "Being sick will do that. Try to get some sleep."
Wilbur nodded vaguely. "Yeah…" Then he added. "Uh, thanks."
"Happy to help," Tommy chirped in response, making Wilbur wince because he'd forgotten to check his volume again. Techno started to drag Tommy from the room.
"You can sleep in my bed tonight," he said. "Let's give the sick guy some privacy."
"But-"
"No, Tommy." Techno cut in. "Come on, I'll take the couch."
"What about my story," Tommy whined. "And telling Dad!"
"We can tell Dad in the morning."
Tommy squirmed out of his grip and ran into Techno's room, where he jumped onto the bed. Techno was already regretting allowing him in. All his worldly possessions were now in jeopardy. "Where are you going to sleep?"
"On the couch, like I said." Techno closed the drapes. "Though I have a lot of homework, so…"
"You should sleep too," Tommy said. "You get all grumpy when you don't sleep enough and you've been very grumpy lately."
At the accusation, Techno frowned. He couldn't exactly deny it though. Sleep deprivation wasn't great for his mood, big surprise. Tommy's concern kind of stung, however. He was a kid. He shouldn't be worrying about stupid crap like that. Techno always thought he was subtle.
"Fine, a story and then we both sleep." He grabbed one of his history books from his desk. "It's going to be my kind of story though." He sat down on the bed, against the headboard. Tommy laid down next to him and rested his head on Techno's shoulder like he did when he was a little younger using Techno as a giant pillow when they went on long road trips.
"Is it going to be a boring story?" Tommy asked dubiously when he noticed it was a textbook Technon was holding.
"Nah, I'll spruce it up for you."
Techno got through about half his required reading that night. Not only that, he also ended up getting a solid eight hours of sleep, arms loosely wrapped around his little brother so they didn't tumble out of the bed that was only meant to be slept in by one person.
Overall, there were worse ways to discover a life-changing species of tiny little people that lived in your walls.
Borrowers.
Techno had since found out the tiny little people species was called borrowers. The name was… not very accurate. If it was, they'd be called stealers.
That was not an argument Techno was willing to have with Wilbur again though. Wilbur insisted that for everything they took - food, small items to craft into houseware or clothes, whatever else they'd need - they paid their due. Small little deeds of goodwill. Tommy finding his lost eraser or Techno conveniently having a hair tie on hand when he was sure he'd broken his last one.
Wilbur might not have cleaned up after himself when he ate a bagel, Techno discovered he'd been the cause of all these other insignificant things that Techno had been chalking up to coincidence or one of his other family members taking care of it. Like how the front door didn't have creaky hinges anymore. Or how the glass he'd broken one night and then decided to clean up in the morning because he was too tired to take care of it right then, had disappeared while he slept. Or how there were small grammatical corrections in Tommy's English homework when he left it on the kitchen table.
All of that had been Wilbur, covertly repaying them for the stuff he took. So maybe 'borrower' was pretty accurate after all.
Wilbur's sickness was not too serious, it turned out. Autumn had been very rainy this year, so their walls had more moisture built up than usual. Their house was honestly getting worse for wear with age in general, Phil had been complaining about needing to do some renovations for ages but obviously, they didn't have nearly enough money for that. It couldn't be safe to keep living in the floorboards forever.
"So what would you usually do?" Phil asked. "If a house became inhospitable, I mean."
He was sitting at the kitchen table with them. Techno was glad they could instantly show him proof that borrowers existed, because when Tommy told Phil they had totally found a tiny person for real, Phil had looked about ready to get their heads checked. Once confronted with Wilbur, he had come around to it rather quickly.
As evidenced by how Wilbur was currently sitting on a small seat Phil had fashioned for him out of some plastic containers they had lying around. He used a torn-up oven mitt as a cushion. It was a rudimentary piece of furniture at best, but Wilbur seemed to appreciate the consideration as he sipped on some of Phil's homemade soup.
"Usually I'd just move," Wilbur said plainly. "I'd been postponing because… well." He swallowed, though Techno thought it kinda felt like Wilbur was avoiding having to admit to his next words. "I do like it here."
"You like our house?" Tommy asked. He probably saw it as a cool achievement. Tommy thought everything about this was cool.
"I guess it's pretty nice." Techno smirked to himself at Wilbur's evasiveness.
"You can probably stay if you don't have to stick to the inside of the walls, right?" Phil asked. Wilbur's eyes widened, looking up at him. "We could make you some kind of nook. Maybe walkways to move through the house easier."
Phil loved having little building projects to occupy himself. And this would be a lot cheaper than full renovations.
"You would do that?" Wilbur asked. Despite warming up to them surprisingly quickly he still acted a little taken off guard by their kindness. Hopeful towards it.
"Why not? And it would beat having to move somewhere you'd have to hide again. Since we already know about you and all."
"Please say yes!" Tommy said quickly, cutting short whatever answer Wilbur was trying to give. "Please, please, please! I want to build you a slide!"
Wilbur lowered the tiny bowl into his lap. "I suppose it won't do any harm."
Tommy's cheers of absolute joy were a bit over the top, but Techno was fine with it if it meant Tommy wouldn't be heartbroken over Wilbur leaving. They could consider Wilbur an additional roommate.
A very tiny roommate, yeah.
As long as Techno remembered to take those mice traps down.
Wilbur had been living with them for about two weeks.
Technically, Wilbur had been living with them a lot longer, of course. But it had been two weeks since Tommy found him passed out in his room.
Not too much had changed in that time. Phil made some simple walkways for Wilbur to get around. Woodworking was not one of the hobbies Techno would have ever put money on their Dad getting back to, but he was good at it. And now Techno had caught an interest too.
Mainly because it would save them so much money.
Buying miniatures for dollhouses was an expensive hobby. Phil was still working overtime but Techno wasn't as busy anymore. Simon had talked to him again and agreed to help him with his late application for financial aid. It wasn't quite enough, but if Techno could get the money together somehow-
"Are you stressed again?"
Techno almost but not quite jumped out of his skin. He wasn't used to anybody sneaking up on him. Phil was never home and Tommy made enough noise to raise the dead, he'd never be able to catch Techno off guard. Wilbur on the other hand…
"Again?" Techno asked.
"You pace when you're stressed," Wilbur said. He climbed the little spiral staircase up onto Techno's desk. He was wearing an ill-fitting yellow sweater, Tommy's first attempt at sewing. After seeing Phil make the house more 'borrower-friendly' and Techno get into looking for tiny furniture, Tommy insisted on also doing something to make Wilbur feel more at home. "I could hear you pace through the walls all the time."
"That's honestly a little creepy," Techno told him, though he didn't mean it.
"You pace a lot," Wilbur shot back. "Like, a ridiculous amount. How could I not notice?"
"I'm just thinking that five hundred bucks for a living room set would be overpriced if it was a human-sized one. Somebody is buying this for their dolls?" Techno gestured at the screen. "I could make this myself."
Wilbur looked confused at the 'five hundred bucks' thing - presumably because borrowers had no sense of economics and the monetary worth didn't mean much to him - but by the end of Techno's sentence he was nodding.
"Then make it."
"I will," Techno said. He never said no to a challenge.
"If they sell for that much 'money'", Wilbur made a weird gesture there, as if he didn't think money was a real thing and just something Techno made up. Would it be worth it to explain banks to a borrower? Probably not. "You could earn some too. I remember listening in on Phil saying that that's what you're worried about."
"You really are creepy," Techno accused. Wilbur smiled innocently at him.
He had to admit the idea had merit though, Techno would have to look into it.
"You're quite cruel to me, considering I have a surprise for you." Wilbur took a seat on the edge of Techno's desk and pointed at his bed. "I hid it under there."
"Not really beating the creepy allegations," Techno said. But he did get up to check it out.
He should clean his room properly sometime. Techno shoved a whole mess under there, out of sight out of mind. Loose papers, dust bunnies, and forgotten socks made up most of the landscape. But tucked at the very back there was also-
Techno swallowed, closing his hand around the wooden neck of his violin.
The last time he played it - probably more than two months ago - he'd thrown the instrument down in a fit. Not because the playing itself wasn't going well. Not because Techno was frustrated, or sad, or upset.
Because he was nothing. He felt nothing.
He wasn't happy playing it like he used to be.
When it hit the floor, a snare snapped in two. Techno had put it into his closet in dismay, completely forgetting about it in the process.
And there it was, polished and with the snare replaced. Fixed by Wilbur.
"You started pacing a lot more after it broke. Before that, I could hear you play it. You're very good at it." Wilbur was searching so sincerely for his reaction. "Isn't it great that you can play it again?"
"I-" Techno rubbed some dust off the upper bout. He had missed the way the top fit in his hand. "Yeah."
Wilbur kicked his legs happily. "Cool. I got something for Phil and Tommy too. You know, just to thank you guys for not killing me and all."
"Tommy would have killed me." Techno put the violin on his bed and walked back to his desk.
"I hope to hear you play again soon." Wilbur was already taking the staircase down two steps at a time.
Techno wanted to tell him that he hated playing in front of an audience. That the idea of somebody listening to his music made his skin crawl unpleasantly these days. That he would have rather gone into a minimum wage job than pursued music that made him feel nothing while others clapped for an empty promise of 'talent'.
"Sure."
But since he had apparently already been playing for Wilbur ever since he moved in without realizing it, back when it could still put a smile on Techno's face, giving it another try couldn't hurt.