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to make things right.

Summary:

L’Manberg was gone. Tommy had nothing left. He lost his relationship with Technoblade. Wilbur was dead, Phil viewed him as a traitor. Tubbo and him were strained, to say the least.

And he’s tired. God, he’s so tired, and all he wants to do is rest, finally be free of all the burdens he carried constantly.

The weight of the world is a lot to put on a 16-year-olds shoulders.
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Or : Technoblade stumbles upon Tommy in the Nether, ready to take his last life within the lava. He manages to save him, and swears to make things right with his family. He would protect his baby brother - he was going to fix this.

Notes:

TW : suicide, suicide attempt, dark thoughts, manipulation, abuse, etc. Basically everything relevant to the Dream SMP plot.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: burned boy, broken boy ; why do you fall?

Chapter Text

Staring into the bubbling, popping lava miles below him, feet barely edging the cliff, Tommy realizes how ironic his situation is. He was back at the edge of the lava pool. Somehow, he knew he would always end up here, eventually. Like a constant tug in his chest that just kept pulling, pulling, pulling, until the straw came that broke the camels back and led Tommy to this very moment.

L’Manburg was gone. The once towering, proud nation had been reduced to nothing but a crater, a hole in the ground where his home used to be. Tommy himself had watched as Dream, Techno and Phil - a set of names that made him almost nauseous to group together - nuked the area with TNT and stood back to watch their creation unfold.

It was gone. Everything he had worked for was gone.

His last memories of Wilbur - god, Wilbur - were gone. The van, the L’ManTree, all reduced to nothing but a pile of ash in a pit. Tommy felt like that, when he thought about it - a pile of ash in a pit. Smoldering, smoldering, and then gone with the wind.

The lava pops below him. A set of feet approach from behind. Tommy makes no effort to move. It would be futile, anyways ; he had left all of his belongings in a series of chests marked for Tubbo. He had nothing to defend himself with even if he wanted to.

“What’re you doing out here, Theseus.” The voice prods, as monotone as ever, and Tommy has to physically hold back his need to laugh.

“Techno.” He greets shortly. He makes no other sound, no move to face the other, and for a few moments, silence envelopes them. Tommy has no clue what the other is thinking, but he’s sure it isn’t much. “Good riddance”, probably. “Finally”.

“You didn’t answer my question.” comes out instead. All Tommy can do is hum in response. He wishes he were alone, but he’s learned well enough at this point that whatever being watching over him is determined to make things difficult. Kick him when he’s down, pour salt in the wound, and watch him writhe.

There’s nothing more ironic than standing over a pit of lava, with the brother you betrayed but hours ago standing behind you.

“I’m sorry.” Pushes past Tommy’s lips, surprising even himself, the words seeming to take form and pass on their own. Once the dam had broken, however, he found himself continuing. “You’re my brother. I’ve always loved you. I’ve never seen you as a weapon, as something to use. But I never showed it. And I was stupid. And I fucked up. And I’m sorry.”

The teenager wishes he could turn around, wishes he could see the look on the others face. Not like it would tell him much, anyways. He’s probably as stone-cold as ever, just as emotionless as when he was tearing Tommy’s home apart block by block.

But he can’t look at Techno, can’t bring himself, so he lets his eyes remain where they are. Trained on the popping bubbles below.

“Why are you saying this all now.” The words barely come out as a question, more of a statement.

“It’s funny.” Tommy chooses to mumble instead. He shifts, and he swears he hears Techno lurch, but stops once he realizes Tommy is just moving to sit down. Legs dangling over the cliff, the heat rising to burn his soles, he stares into the lava as if it could speak to him. Reach for him, hold him, bring him far, far away from here. “You said it, and you were right. History repeats itself. And here I am, staring at the same lava pool. Here I am, right back where I started.” He laughs, and it sounds broken even to him. “I mean, what’s the point? Me and you both know that there’s no right answer. When I was standing there, in the fucking community house, looking between you and Tubbo, something occurred to me.

No answer I could’ve chosen would’ve been right. If I had chosen Tubbo, you would hate me. You do hate me. If I chose you, I would’ve watched my home go up in flames. I would’ve-“ his hand balled into a fist, pressed against the hardened netherrack below him. “I would’ve lost the last memory I ever had of my brother. And all of that happened, too.” He laughs again, but this time, it’s mixed with a sob, tears running down his face that he didn’t even notice were there at first. “None of it matters. Not the disk, not what Dream did to me, none of it. Because I will ALWAYS end up back here. You heard Dream - I’m ‘just too fun’. He will always come back for me. I will always be his plaything. I will never be free. No matter what I do, no matter what choice I make, nothing will ever change. History repeats itself, and I will always be caught in the riptide. Unless I do something about it.”

“Tommy-“

“Do you know what Dream did to me in exile, Techno?”

The question sits heavy in the already suffocating air. For the first time, Tommy tilts his head back, and makes dead eye contact with Techno. The older of the two, to his surprise, does seem to be slightly distressed - at least, as far as Techno goes. He’s gripping the sword by his side, one foot out, as if ready to break into a dead sprint. When they connect eyes, he sees something that almost looks like...guilt. He shakes it off.

“We...We never got around to that conversation.” Techno says slowly, as if walking on eggshells, terrified any wrong move would send his only remaining brother tumbling off the edge of a cliff.

“He abused me.” Tommy said, point blank, maintaining dead eye contact with the other. “I didn’t realize it at the time. Every day, he would have me throw my things into a hole, and make me watch as he burned them. Anything I had that I loved he would kill or destroy. My cow, my tools, everything. Everyday he reminded me that the reason nobody visited - Tubbo, Phil, YOU - nobody, was because everybody fucking hated me. I’m too annoying. They don’t like me. They were ecstatic to get rid of me. I hosted a beach party and Dream promised to pass out the invites. He didn’t. Nobody showed, and Dream went, ‘See? i told you nobody gives a shit.’ He hit me whenever he was mad. On the last day, the one I ran away, he strangled me. He wouldn’t let me eat. I starved the entire time I was there.”

Tommy maintains eye contact with Techno as he spits out the next words. “And you sided with him.”

Techno feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The voices in his head - the guilty ones - yell that he should’ve noticed this. Sure, they had never formally talked about it, but the warning signs were there. Tommy would flinch whenever Techno raised his voice, would immediately apologize over the smallest things, would always assume Techno was mad at him over everything. That was so unlike Tommy. Techno KNEW it was unlike Tommy, but he was so caught up in his own fantasy of anarchy that he had barely spent any time to notice. To inspect. To /care/.

He feels like a shit brother.

“I need you to understand.” Tommys voice brings him back, “that I don’t...I don’t hate you. I never hated you. You’re my brother. You’re my friend. Siding with Tubbo...it wasn’t about screwing over you, or screwing over Phil. It was...I was terrified, Techno. Standing there, with everyone hating me, everyone I had considered friends...I broke.” he laughed. “I’ve been broken for a long fucking time, I guess. And I’m sorry you ever got dragged into it.”

Finally - fucking finally - Techno finds his voice. Even he is shocked at how shaky it comes out when he goes, “We don’t have to be on bad terms, Tommy. I don’t hate you either.”

At this point, Tommy had fixated his gaze back on the lava, legs swinging back and forth, back and forth. “How long will that last?” He asks slowly. “Don’t you get it, Techno? You said it yourself. History repeats itself. We’ll get along for a month, two if we’re lucky, and then something will drive us apart. Dad hates me - he sees me as a traitor. I’m sure you do too, you just don’t want to feel guilty over what’s about to happen.”

Slowly, Tommy rises to his feet, and Techno feels his heart stop. Tommy turns, slowly, feet on the very edge and back to the lava, facing Techno.
The piglin considers himself a strong man, far stronger than others, but he almost cries when he sees how broken his baby brothers eyes are. He’s always so sassy, always so full of life - too busy insulting people and laughing obnoxiously to be sad or burdened.

Somewhere along the line, that version of his brother had died, giving birth to a traumatized, war-torn teen, never given the chance of healing.

“Don’t blame yourself.” Tommy says slowly. He raises one hand to the side of his head, and presses two fingers to his temple before quickly moving them out in a saluting motion.

“You know what Wilbur said.” He smiles, and Techno finds himself moving before he can even really register it.

“It was never meant to be.”

Tommy was plummeting backwards, body careening closer and closer to the lavas welcoming warmth.

Technoblade, before he can even think about it, heaves himself off the side of the cliff, following his brother in hot pursuit. Hands fumble desperately in his bag, fingers clasping around the thin neck of a bottle.

His hands grab Tommy and bring him close. With the desperation of a thousand men, he throws down the potion, and watches as it explodes in a burst of red around them.

They both hit the lava, with Technos body wrapped around Tommys, determined to finally, finally protect his brother. He had failed him for so long, but he wouldn’t anymore. He refused to be an only child.

His hands found Tommys hair, and he pulls his head against his chest, and holds on for dear life.

He would protect his baby brother. He would.