Phil probably knew a guy who worked at the hospital. Either that, or Phil was simply recognizable enough to let his fame do the talking for him. Whichever the case, a nurse brought them into a little private room almost immediately upon arrival. Maybe that was for the better, Techno was pretty sure he saw at least three different people take discreet-except-very-obvious pictures of them in the waiting area, pictures that would be splattered all across social media soon enough. Techno hoped his agent wouldn't be upset with him.

A doctor checked him out remarkably fast, and to Techno's ever-growing embarrassment, he was forced to accept an IV on suspicion of dehydration, which could be an aggravating factor in him tripping. He saw Phil frown at that. Probably because dehydration couldn't easily be explained by a twisted ankle, so Phil would be an idiot not to realize Techno also critically failed at self-care today.

"How the hell did you manage to hide your injury this long?" Phil asked at one point. They were waiting for somebody to come along and put Techno's arm in a cast, since it was indeed broken. His ankle was merely sprained. They gave him some powerful painkillers while setting the bone and everything. While it was nice to not be hurting as badly, his head felt a little weird. Groggy, maybe.

"Hm?" Techno asked, king of eloquence.

"Your ankle," Phil said. "You kept walking on it for a full day."

"Iced it."

"Not while you were on set with us all afternoon." Phil reached out and shifted the ice pack on his ankle. Techno couldn't feel it, his entire leg was numb up to the knee. He couldn't feel his arm either. They really gave him the good stuff.

"S'not that bad," Techno tried to tell Phil, slurring the words.

Phil sat back again, failing to completely contain a bemused smile at Techno's clumsy tongue. "I'm not sure who I'm more pissed off at. You for hiding this so long or myself for not noticing."

"Don't be," Techno said, wanting to explain it made no sense for Phil to blame himself when the thing he failed to notice was something Techno explicitly was trying to hide. But that'd be too hard. He couldn't really get the sentence straight.

His head tilted to the side. Within a few blinks he was close to drifting away.

"I told you, you can come to me if you need any help," Phil continued, seemingly talking more so to himself than to Techno this time. His voice was soft, almost luring him into sleep for real. "I guess I just assumed you trusted me."

Techno's eyes shot open.

He did trust Phil. He probably trusted Phil more than he had ever trusted anybody in his entire life, pathetic as that was to admit. Techno was in his mid-twenties, had no family, and the guy on the top of his emergency contact list was his co-worker who probably had better things to do on a Saturday night than care for him.

He wanted Phil to know he did trust him.

"Are you tired?" Phil asked suddenly. Through the sedatives, Techno had been much too slow to react, not to mention his brain refusing to turn his thoughts into sensical speech. Phil had already moved on. So Techno hummed, feeling bad about it but too out of it to fix his mistakes.

Story of his life, truly.

"Didn't sleep very much because of the pain," he admitted, struggling to articulate every word.

Phil stood up from his chair. Techno didn't realize Phil had been using one hand to slowly rub his uninjured shoulder until the warmth left and he mourned its loss.

"I'll get you something to eat then. So you won't have to bother with food once you're home, you can go straight to bed." Phil was already heading for the door.

Techno vaguely nodded. Food sounded nice. He wasn't very hungry, but he should probably eat.

Wait, hadn't he been planning to go grocery shopping today? Yeah, that's when he fell. So he most likely didn't have anything in the fridge. And tomorrow would be Sunday, all the stores would be closed. Or the ones that were open, he'd have to hobble to in a cast and on crutches. That kinda sucked.

Oh well, that was a problem for tomorrow's Techno to deal with.

By the time Phil came back, the person helping Techno was just finishing up the cast itself. They'd asked Techno what color he wanted. Blue was Techno's favorite color.

For some reason, in his half-delirious and high-on-painkillers state, he'd answered pink.

Phil didn't laugh at him. The color was closer to a pastel pink rather than a glaring hot pink, so Techno wasn't about to complain. Phil had him eat the sandwich he got. Shortly after, Techno was all clear to be discharged, so long as somebody was willing to take him home since the painkillers were still in his system. Phil volunteered to drive him, and also asked about follow-up appointments while Techno struggled to get his cast through the sleeve of his jacket for a solid five minutes. He felt oddly like a child, having his dad look after him.

Even more oddly, it wasn't the worst feeling in the world.

The drive home passed mostly in silence. Techno kept staring at the lights outside Phil's car window, which a combination of how tired he was and the painkillers were turning into a satisfying blur across his vision. Phil turned the radio down so it wouldn't bother him. Techno could probably fall asleep right then and there.

But alas, he had to battle four sets of stairs with an arm in a cast and a crutch for his ankle. Techno wasn't one for cursing, Phil was glad to compensate.

"Who the fuck builds a luxury apartment and doesn't think to put in an elevator?" he asked.

Techno wanted to shrug, but if he tried to do that he would drop his crutch so he didn't. He got really lucky that he sprained his left ankle yet broke his right arm. If he'd injured both limbs on the same side, he'd have an even harder time moving around. As it was, he could use his arm that wasn't broken to handle the crutch which would take the weight off his busted ankle.

Not that this made it any easier for him to try and fish his apartment key out of his jacket.

"Stay still." Phil reached around him to grab it from his pocket instead. He then also leaned over to open the door.

"Thanks," Techno said.

"How the hell are you going to survive on your own tomorrow," Phil said. It wasn't exactly a question, but he sounded slightly unsure about it anyway.

"I'll manage." Techno turned on the light with his elbow and limped his way into his apartment, heading straight for the bedroom. "Though I might miss Kristin's exhibition. Tell her I'm sorry?"

"Don't worry about that, mate." Phil followed him, lingering in the doorway of the bedroom while Techno put his crutch on the floor and struggled to take his jacket and shoes off one-handed. Phil didn't offer to help him, probably picking up on Techno's mood. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. This entire situation had been embarrassing enough as it was.

Techno winced when straightening his leg made a spike of pain run down his ankle.

"The doctor said you should take more painkillers when they wear off," Phil said.

"Will do." Techno had some in his other pocket and a glass of water on his bedside table. Everything he needed to make it through the night.

"Good. We'll check in on you tomorrow then, okay?" Phil said.

"Sounds good." Before Phil could turn around fully, Techno looked up at him and cleared his throat. Phil waited. It was now or never, Techno had to not mess up his words this time. "Uh, thanks for coming over and helping me. I really appreciate it."

Phil smiled at him. "Sure, anytime. You know that."

"I do," Techno said quickly. "I do know that. Just so you like, are aware. Me having a hard time asking for help, it's not because of you guys."

Phil's expression softened further. "I'm glad," Phil said. He laughed at himself. "Not glad that you're a stubborn asshole, but that it's not something we did."

"Definitely not," Techno said. "Trust me, Phil, I'm pretty sure people can tell when I don't like them. Wilbur calls it my 'active bitch face'."

"You do have one of those," Phil agreed with a chuckle.

Techno allowed himself to fall back on his mattress, kicking his shoes off so they landed somewhere in a corner of the room. He wouldn't bother changing out of his clothes, they were comfy enough to sleep in.

"Goodnight Techno." Phil turned the light off before he left.

"G'night Phil."

Techno closed his eyes and felt himself drift off into sleep within minutes.

Somewhere during the early morning, Techno woke up because he'd rolled over in a way that was hurting his arm. But he simply took a bunch of painkillers, readjusted his sleeping position, and passed out again for a few blissful hours. The second time he woke up, light was streaming in through the window and somebody was banging on his door.

He grunted as he reached for his crutch, slowly making his way to the door. Whoever was knocking wasn't deterred by how long it took for Techno to answer. Which meant it could only be one person.

"Phil, what are you doing here this early?" Techno asked.

"It's almost noon," Phil answered while brushing past him. That was when Techno realized Wilbur and Tommy were also with him.

"I promised Phil not to say 'I told you so' but I did warn you about doing your own stunts," Wilbur said first thing upon entering.

"That's also an 'I told you so' in different words," Techno pointed out, closing the door behind them.

"Maybe." Wilbur put two bags he was carrying down on Techno's coffee table.

"Hey, big man." Tommy stopped in front of him, assessing Techno with a squinty, critical gaze. Techno stared down at him, glad he still had the height advantage of an inch or two on Tommy. He really hoped Tommy had stopped growing though he was at that age where it was hard to tell. Techno didn't want to think about Tommy getting taller than him. Horrifying thought. After a moment of watching him, Tommy grinned. "I brought your pizza."

He held up a single slice of pizza, packaged in silver foil.

"Gross," Techno said. He took it from Tommy and went to throw it in the trash, only for Tommy to snatch it out of his hands again.

"Don't throw away my gift."

"It's not a gift, it's two-day-old pizza," Techno said with a scowl. He was kind of glad they hadn't gone to the museum after all because this only gave credence to Tommy's threat that he would bring the pizza for Techno when they met up at Kristin's exhibit.

Wait, the exhibit.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Kristin's thing right now?" Techno asked. He vaguely recalled it started in the morning.

"We have a much more important engagement," Wilbur said. "Namely coming to look after our idiot friend who fucked his ankle up by doing his own stunts despite my advice not to-" Techno rolled his eyes at Wilbur as the man continued. "-and who then further managed to screw up by falling down the stairs and breaking his arm."

"You really don't have to be here," Techno said, hobbling over to the table. "I can look after myself." His words were a little louder, and a little more angry than he expected. Maybe because guilt always made him snappy.

He hated that he was the reason Kristin was at her exhibit all alone and the others were breaking their promise to be at her side.

"We want to be here," Phil said smoothly, before Wilbur could react. Wilbur seemed a little annoyed anyway, so maybe it was for the better. "We brought you some food to stock the fridge with." He opened one of the bags on the table.

"I picked out all the different flavors of yogurt," Tommy said proudly. Like it was an achievement. Techno peeked in the bag. Yup, that really was an ungodly amount of yogurt for one person.

"The doctor said the painkillers might upset your stomach, but yogurt should be easy enough to keep down," Phil explained. "Have you taken any today yet?"

"At some point," Techno said vaguely. Phil frowned disapprovingly at him.

Yeah, this man wasn't beating the dad-coded allegations anytime soon.

"Go take some more, we'll fix you up breakfast and unload the groceries." Phil was already starting to unpack.

"Do you keep a toaster somewhere in here?" Tommy asked while pulling open cupboards haphazardly. Techno shook his head.

"No."

"I'll grab a grill and improvise."

Wilbur followed him into the bedroom. Maybe because Techno's kitchen was too small for three people to comfortably mess around in there, or maybe because Techno stumbled so much he looked like he was about to fall over. And then he'd have two broken arms. Techno took the painkillers that were left on his nightstand. He very briefly considered if he should try and change clothes, but decided that'd be too much of a hassle.

"Come here," Wilbur said.

Techno looked at him. He didn't enjoy Wilbur's silent judgment, or the way he was being scrutinized. But he did shuffle over.

"What?" Techno asked tersely.

Wilbur, honest to god, giggled at him. "Turn around." He nudged Techno's shoulder, then whipped out one of those hair ties he had been keeping on him since a couple of months ago. He reached up and started to rebraid Techno's hair for him. "I'm sorry for being bitchy."

Techno snorted. "At least you're self-aware."

A sharp little tug on his hair quieted him. "Normally this is the part where you say I'm not bitchy."

"I don't like lying," Techno said, making Wilbur laugh again.

"I guess I should give you more leeway. Having people take care of you doesn't come naturally if you're not used to it your entire life."

Techno swallowed awkwardly. He knew Wilbur didn't mean anything bad by it, but he could do without the constant reminders that he'd grown up in a crappy situation.

"Yeah, well…" He shifted his hold on the crutch to keep from dropping it. "I'm also a bit too old to have people doing this sort of stuff for me."

"You're never too old to be cared for," Wilbur said without missing a beat. "I mean, especially if you're sick or hurt. You should have seen Phil when he got the flu, he was like a little ball of misery. It's nice to have people looking out for you when you don't feel well. And even beyond all that, it's really normal for people to care, Techno."

"You're literally each other's family," Techno said.

For a second, there was only silence. Then Wilbur laughed, finishing the braid and tapping Techno on his shoulder. "And you're dense as fuck."

Techno wanted to ask what he meant but by that point, Wilbur had already left the room. Techno muttered under his breath and limped after him, painstakingly making his way into the living room. Tommy shot over to him as soon as he spotted Techno.

"Come on, big man. Sit down, sit down." Tommy herded him over to the couch with the energy of an overzealous sheepdog. Techno allowed Tommy to push him down in the cushions, if only because the painkillers were already starting to kick in and make everything nice and fuzzy for him. "We got orange juice, if you want?"

"Is that what you needed the toaster for?"

"It's going to be a social media hit in no time," Tommy said, and Techno couldn't entirely tell if he was kidding or not. "Is that a yes or a no?"

Techno nodded. "Yeah, I'll take the grilled juice."

It was not, in fact, grilled juice. Just plain, boring old orange juice. But Techno still appreciated it, just like he appreciated the yogurt and the freshly cut fruit Phil prepared for him to eat. He was running out of words to show how much he appreciated it, frankly. Thanking these guys didn't feel like enough anymore.

But he still tried.

"Thanks," he said. "If you guys want to head over to Kristin's thing now-"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Wilbur asked. He was helping Phil put away the remaining groceries. Phil sighed, jabbing his elbow into Wilbur's side. "What?"

"Oh, I know, I should sign your cast." Tommy plopped down on the couch next to Techno, reaching out to angle his arm. He was pretty careful about it, though the painkillers meant Techno wouldn't feel a thing regardless. "It will be super valuable then, my autograph is worth hundreds."

"Thousands if I hang onto it until after you die," Techno said.

"Especially if I disappeared under mysterious circumstances by faking my own death," Tommy agreed, pulling a sharpie out of his pocket. He probably carried it on him at all times, in case they ran into fans. "Which I'll have to do when I become too popular, of course."

"Of course." Techno held out his arm for Tommy to sign.

"I just texted Kristin," Phil said as he sat on the other end of the couch. "The exhibit is having another private event next weekend too, so we can go to that one."

"Are you sure?" Techno asked. "I really don't need three people to babysit me."

"It's not babysitting," Wilbur added, also joining them. Techno was very grateful he'd opted to get a bigger couch. He got it because he fell asleep in front of the television a lot, but it came in handy.

"Yeah, it's making up for lost time. Because you owe us a movie marathon." Tommy picked up the remote. "And also Phil wants to make sure you don't break any more bones, so maybe it kind of is babysitting."

Techno dropped his head back and groaned. "Seriously?"

"Stop complaining and just embrace us taking care of you man," Wilbur told him, flicking his forehead. Techno winced.

"That's what family is for."

"Fine," Techno said, not bothering to lift his head again. He wasn't tired, more like pleasantly buzzed. Yeah, the doctor really gave him the good stuff. Phil tucked a blanket around him.

Techno wasn't looking forward to explaining to the showrunners that he'd gotten hurt and that might delay production somewhat. The mere thought made his heart skip an unpleasant beat. But Techno knew he had to do it. And he knew Phil would help him start that conversation if he asked. And that made it a lot less anxiety-inducing.

With that in mind, Techno was fast asleep again before the first scene of the movie was through.