I grab my cape and fasten it on while heading to the kitchen to check on Attie, Tommy can wait a few moments, he’s swearing so he’s probably fine. (Or at least not dead) Hopefully, Attie is still reading. Spoiler, she’s not.
“Attie?” I call into the now empty kitchen.
“Over here dad!” I hear her call from the basement. Well, she’s downstairs. At least an explosion will be contained.
I sigh. “I’ll be outside! Please don’t blow anything up,” I call down the ladder.
“I shouldn’t, I’m investigating potions!” She calls up, running to the ladder and holding up a bubbling potion that I don’t recognize. Gods help me. I lean down on the fall and stick my head down, my pink braid falling.
“Ok then…” I say worrily, eyebrows furrowing.
She jumps up and bats at my pink braid, the green gems clang against the ladder. “Don’t worry! I’m just trying to duplicate those gems on your braid!” Her big smile is so sweet, reminds me of Dream’s when he was off to cause chaos.
“You know I can just get you some right?” The two magical gems tied to the end are from Phil: I have no idea what they do. I have a box full in the basement because I keep finding them in the wash. And in my pots and pans, and the fridge, and in the dog kennel. I swear the old man is leaving a breadcrumb trail in case he’s kidnapped or something.
“Oh I already found the box dad!” She smirks and walks back into the basement. “Don’t worry about me!”
“Now I definitely am!” I shake my head and hop up, brushing off my clothes. Oh, I love that kid, curious and bright. Just like Tommy was before he was a child soldier. That’s why she stayed with Phil when I went to go save my brother’s asses.
I find Tommy lying in the snow at the foot of the stairs, moving his arms and legs back and forth to make a snow angel.
“What are you doing?” I ask gently, don’t want to freak him out. Currently, I believe I smell like burning metal and parchment, my angry scent. It’s always taken too long to fade.
He jumps and immediately sits up. “Oh! Techno! I was...just accepting my fate to become one with the snow because I fell!” He says so quickly I almost miss it. He reaches over to his crutch also buried over in the snow with him.
“Uh-huh,” I nod along, a faint smile spreads across my face. Sounds like Tommy.
“But I…Ahhh…I know…it’s a waste of time!” He stammers as he struggles to pull himself up.
I offer a hand. He immediately takes it, jarringly quickly. Tommy normally moans about being a big man and can help himself. I pull him up. “You can play in the snow if you like. There’s not much to do around here." I shrug. "Like I said, I was able to do it on my own.” I brush off the snow still stuck to him. “You don’t need to help around here unless you want to.” I smile warmly, or try to anyway, tusks and reddish eyes makes it hard. I give him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.
He smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. I shut my eyes and sigh, pushing my hair back. “Are you ok Tommy?” I meet his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Naturally Technoblade. Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiles. Rubbing his arms and looking away from me.
Well, that was a blatant lie. Tommy never calls me “Technoblade” unless it’s a joke, and then he would be yelling, or he’s scared, and would also be yelling. Tommy also confirms his feelings by claiming he doesn’t have them. Or well, he yells and litters his words with swears.
I raise an eyebrow. I’ve asked him every day when he seems most like himself, similar answer.
Unexpectedly, he jumps towards me and hugs me. I stand in shock for a few moments; I feel him tense up. I move my arms to hug him back, and he flinches. What am I going to do with this kid?
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s ok. You're here ok? It’s me,” I say calmly, hugging him.
He pushes back, I let go. I can’t hold him down or restrict his movement at all. I learned that lesson when I had to bandage him up when I found him. And changing bandages later.
“I’m ok Techno! I...Um...” He trails off, the half forced smile still on his face.
Ok this conversation is over, I don’t want to freak him out more. “I’m going to make lunch. Grilled cheese ok?” I take a step onto the stairs.
“Yeah! Sounds good, big man!” He exclaims. He starts half walking half hopping to the dog kennels, leaning awkwardly on the crutch.
“Don’t stay out too long k? You’re not really dressed for prolonged exposure,” I chide, he’s wearing fingerless gloves and the same boots (boot) from when he was 13. And his coat is not thick enough, but it’s the only one I had with wing holes. Not that he can fly anyway.
He throws up a thumbs up as he slowly makes his way. He’s about five feet away from the door. I sigh and walk inside. Gotta check what the other child is up to.
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Thanks for reading!