❦𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐯𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫❦【 DreamSMP // Technoblade 】

❦One Hundred Eleven❦

[TW! General mention of blood,death, and violence.]

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"You have torn me apart and left me bleeding more times than I've been able to count, yet each time I trust you'll put me back together better than I was before."
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There was too much for Phil to say, but too little he could actually utter. The Angel of Death knowing full well it wasn't his place to say half of the things Tia wished to know.
And for once, Tia didn't push. After months of fighting tooth and nail for even scraps of information and just one word of truth, Tia let a sleeping dog lie. Well, not exactly. To be fair Phil would argue that the metaphorical dog was very much awake by now, but Tia wasn't about to poke it with a stick and see how long it takes to bite her in the jugular. Phil and Tia had been exchanging glares back and forth over this for weeks, awkward conversations and more awkward forced interactions. But now they could both physically see it healing before their eyes. A mutual understanding between the two, a relationship melded. An agreement to wait, even if it killed them.

And Phil thought for a bit there that it might, as he chose not to mention the growing heaviness in Tia's dark circles. Evident in her lack of sleep. Most likely in direct correlation in the ever growing pile of letters in Technoblade's bedroom that Phil thought may not be a good idea to bring up. How bit by bit she had apparently spent all of her time in Technoblade's cabin reading letters upon letters from that crawl space. Phil doesn't exactly know if she was crying for most of the time up there, but either way he kept bringing her water anyway just in case. Dehydration was a bitch, and if he couldn't stop her from ripping her own heart out then at least he'd make sure she didn't die from it. Well, too much. Maybe a part of her died the second she lifted that floorboard. He couldn't be too sure.

Phil could also assume Tia lost track of time somewhere along the way in her self destructive insistence. Because the three month mark of Technoblade being locked away in Pandora's vault came too soon and too late all at once. When he came up to her room, Technoblade's room technically, but she had been up there long enough to deem it home to be honest, he mentioned it as casually as he could to her. "Tomorrow I'm activating the stasis chamber." He spoke softly, looking over at her still sitting on the Blood God's bed, letters in hand and also scattered on the wooden floors below her.

She spared him a glance, and Phil couldn't place her expression. A strange combination between anxiety for three different reasons, anticipation, joy, and some strange kind of mellow mourning. Phil decided he would hang onto the anticipation and joy so he could sleep at night. "Well, you know I'll be there." Is all she said, a weak smile on her face as she mustered all she could to settle Phil's nerves. "My soulmate, huh, can't miss that." She laughed out weakly, and Phil knew they were both remembering that more or less fateful discussion. Everything finally built up and crashed down in a way that was nothing if not inevitable.

❧

"Of course I know what soulmates are, Phil." Tia managed to laugh at the end of her words, more manic than anything. As if still forcing herself into a strange sense of disbelief. "My goddamn brother and Skeppy are-were- wherever the fuck they are they are soulmates. They share lives. That's the whole point of soulmates, a soul split in two." She was still gripping onto Phil's shirt, as if grounding herself with the fabric would stop any kind of spiral she was already within. "So I can't be some kind of soulmate with Tech, he's born a God. I'm a mortal, if I died he can't, that's not how soulmates work." Phil noticed as she spoke, that with each word she sounded a bit more desperate. As if begging Phil to not prove her wrong.

Phil hated and loved that he had to shatter the illusion she forced herself into. "Gods had never seen it before you two." He began carefully.

"Phil, stop." Tia was on the verge of begging, he could hear it.