[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.
Phil sighed out, wings twitching. "We never considered a soul being split between a God and a mortal, mate." He whispered, now running a hand through red hair. Making sure to avoid her horns. "We never realized it was a possibility before Techno was watching it happen. I think it broke him more than once, if you can't die with your soulmate you just have to watch them find you over again each reincarnation. And repeat. The numbers on the folders are the lives, you know." Phil heard Tia's breath hitch, probably remembering the absurd amount of binders and folders in that crawl space.
"Please." Tia didn't know what she was asking for. Phil to stop? To stop crying? She had no goddamn clue.
"Having a soulmate is rare enough, you know. There's a reason only Bad and Skeppy experienced it out of all of the people around here. The chances of a soul being split during formation is near impossible." Phil was speaking slowly as if Tia would break, for all he knows she very well might with the way she was shaking. "A God forming is far rarer, but then that soul splitting? An anomaly. I watched him panic for years, each reincarnation he fell for all over again. There's no textbook for this type of thing. He was the only one. Nobody could just sit down and explain it to him."
Tia felt hundreds of things click into place all at once. Instances over the years that suddenly made sense with even the minimal context Phil gave her. But then also, she couldn't help but think that maybe she was aware of something like this for far longer than Phil telling her moments ago. But with it being laid out on the table like that, there was no longer any kind of denial for her to hide in.
She had to face it.
She had to face that when Technoblade bumped into her all those years ago in that Kingdom for what she thought was the first time, the look on his expression wasn't shock from being slammed into by some random teenager; but rather it was relief. As if to say 'there you are'.
She had to face that the jealousy Technoblade let bubble up over Eret wasn't the feeling of 'being replaced' but rather knowing quite literally his other half had somehow fallen in love with another despite all odds.
She had to face that Technoblade bursting to sobs holding her in Foolish's desert wasn't general joy of her being immortal, but relief and pure amazement that he wouldn't have to watch her die in his arms yet again. For who knows how many times, well, she supposed Phil might now.
So many situations and reactions that never seemed to make that much sense or seemed to raise any red flags in particular now practically screamed out as if to target how she managed to overlook each and every one. Maybe it was a good thing red has always been Tia's favorite color.
❧
When Phil left that bedroom he didn't quite know if he was leaving behind a mess or a disaster, nothing in between. That's how fucked he decided the entire situation was. Without Technoblade here, let alone aware of the insane situation he left behind, Phil was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't tell Tia everything properly let alone give up information and experiences he knows only Technoblade could properly verbalize, but at the same time it seems by the minute she's left with more questions than answers. All they could do is wait, and as Phil thought earlier, it seems it was killing them both despite being immortals. Maybe Phil should congratulate his best friend when he returns, he has managed to figure out how to do the impossible, kill a God and Goddess. And not with some insane ritual, instead by enforcing a ridiculous level of heartbreak.
Now all they could do is wait out the storm together, never quite sure when it started and when it would end. Had they even encountered the eye of the storm yet? And if this was the eye how much goddamn worse could it even get?
Tomorrow Phil supposed they would find out, but at the same time a prisoner fresh out of Pandora's vault may not be the best person to have a life altering discussion with. They have no idea what condition the Blood God could stumble out of that stasis chamber in, so Phil knows that more or less they have to play this situation safely and carefully.
But now the hours were ticking, and Tia was deteriorating. And Phil didn't even want to think too hard about what condition he himself was in.
All he knows is that the emerald hanging from his ear has felt pretty damn heavy lately.
❧
Technoblade was genuinely at a loss for words. Backing up from Quackity as the man incessantly inched closer and closer. The Blood God's back to unforgiving obsidian as Dream watched bruised and bloodied all slumped in the corner. The blond was hunched, eyes clearly unfocused and blurry as he struggled to watch Technoblade's imminent demise. Well, Technoblade knows death isn't really an option, but he didn't feel like adding a plethora of scars to his already growing collection today. And Quackity wasn't acting like someone wanting to bargain.
So Technoblade, still struggling to find the proper words, did what he always does. He let out a nervous chuckle, shrinking away from the dagger slowly being raised to his face. "C'mon, let's talk this out. You're not really goin' to cut me with that." Suddenly, the image of Dream gasping for breath and begging for his life through a blood filled mouth seemed a lot more imminent for Technoblade.
Quackity didn't even respond to him, and Technoblade watched as he raised the weapon so it would be pointed at his throat. The piglin hybrid swallowed dryly, hands gripping the sleek obsidian wall behind him the best he could. The blooming pain and the feeling of red hot blood dripping down his throat wasn't an unfamiliar one, but that didn't make it enjoyable. Though, that wouldn't be enough to make him flinch. He continued to stare at Quackity with the most indifferent expression he could muster. Eyes occasionally looking back to Dream, knowing he could very well be in the same condition moments from now. At least if the feeling of a dagger carving into his neck and now shoulder continued. Precise and cold calculated movements, Sam who he knew was supposed to prevent this treatment of prisoners not caring or doing anything to stop the casino owner.
Though, the feeling faded as Quackity pulled the netherite dagger away from his flesh. Leaving blood dripping down his neck and right shoulder where he had carved various lines, unforgiving ones filled with malice. Technoblade thought for a moment that just maybe Quackity had grown bored of his indifferent reaction. He knew he was wrong as Quackity unhooked his pickaxe from his hip. Technoblade had wondered why he brought it, you can't mine anything in the prison. It takes hours.
"This remind you of anything?" Quackity spoke tauntingly, a ghost of a smile flashing over his lips. Portraying his true intentions.
Technoblade didn't bother to answer as Quackity lifted the diamond pickaxe up, the sharpened edge pressing underneath the God's chin. Indenting the pale flesh.
Quackity smiled truly now, not holding anything back. Technoblade knew this wouldn't be pretty, and the Death Goddess will probably have one hell of a time stitching this body back together. It would hurt, he knew that very well as Quackity slowly lowered the pickaxe, winding up to drive it into Technoblade's skull; just as he did to the man over a year ago. "I have a pickaxe." Quackity began, and Technoblade couldn't help but wince now. Dream watching the interaction weakly, no strength or physical ability left to intervene. "And I'll put it through your teeth!" The statement was familiar in a haunting way, something that clearly came back to bite the Blood God later.
The pickaxe was driven upwards at alarming speeds, heading straight for his skull. Painful and ugly, sparing no mercy.
Then suddenly, everything was cold.
❧
Tia didn't know truly how to react as she stood in the meeting room, staring down at the Blood God. He seemed so close and yet so far all at one time. At the same time, it was as if she was looking at him through a different lense. He didn't seem to be comprehending much either, at least properly. His form hunched over as he coughed, water seeped into his clothes and blood now watered down slipping through the fabrics. His left tusk was in half, part of it broken off. He had been unable to shave clearly, scruff on his face a light bubblegum pink to match his unruly hair.
Tia thought he looked perfect all the same.
Now maybe she understood how he always managed to look at her with that lovesick expression, like she had hung the moon in the skies.
But that can't be right, because she's certain he had done so.
Phil had rushed over to his friend, immediately grabbing onto Technoblade's arms to help him stand up straight. The blond leading him over to the meeting room table and chairs, the Blood God sitting down as Phil offered him basic necessities. There were folded dry clothes on the meeting room table, a bottle of water and some golden carrots. Both Tia and Phil didn't predict the piglin, instead grabbing a golden apple an arms length away, biting into it with sharp teeth and letting out a grateful sigh as his wounds closed. Finishing off the apple and then standing up, clothes still damp from the stasis chamber he emerged from. He hadn't even spoken a word. He frankly seemed delirious until he had finished off that apple and experienced the effects.
Then he looked to Tia, still watching him with wonder. As if she was truly seeing him for the first time, even with his hair mussed and a new plethora of scars, there was only adoration.
Technoblade expected maybe a quip from her, the spiteful but laughter filled personality he had gotten used to in the woman. Instead, arms reached out and hugged around his torso. A head tucked underneath his chin, he stumbled back for a moment before hugging her just as tightly. The piglin looked past Tia and instead to Phil, who just smiled. "I'll go get a meal ready for all of us, prison food can't be too good, mate." Technoblade blindly nodded to the Angel, then looked down at red hair.
"You uh- heh," Technoblade laughed a bit, clearing his throat. "That can't be too comfortable, my shirt is soaked, nerd." He teased lightly, suddenly wishing he had changed into that fresh white button-up Phil had laid out. Not for him but just so she would have been more comfortable if anything.
He felt her slowly pull away, and Gods he decided this was the best part of leaving her if he ever had to. That feeling after months apart where she cupped his face in her calloused hands, not caring that he had gone unshaven for the past three months. Her hands were never warm, but if anything the coolness was refreshing. "You were gone for too long." Is all she muttered, analyzing him like he was something to learn about and understand. Like he was one of those books he could always find her lost in, tucked in the corner of his bed like she belonged. She always did.
"It was only 'posed to be three days." He sighed out, stepping away from her as much as it hurt to do so. Instead reaching over for the shirt Phil had laid out. Better than the one he had been wearing for so long, he went to unbutton the current shirt soaked and pressed to his skin- only for Tia to beat him to it. He just watched as her fingers quickly undid the line of buttons on his white shirt, blood stained and carrying with it the nightmares of Pandora's vault.
Tia watched as he took off the wet fabric, letting it fall to the floor as he put on the dry one. An audible sigh left his lips as it was buttoned up. "Only three days?" Tia asked, watching as he unbuttoned his pants, grabbing the dry pair Phil also left out to exchange them for. Maybe suddenly being thrown in a vat of water with an enderpearl wasn't the best thing.
Technoblade nodded in response to her question, gritting his teeth as he walked over and opened his enderchest, grabbing a hairbrush and beginning to work out knots in long pink hair. "Phil musta heard me wrong or somethin', I was worried somethin' happened to you two." He looked back over to Tia as he spoke, still trying to make sure his hair wasn't horrifically tangled any longer. "Old man locked me in there for three months." He grumbled, huffing as he continued to fix his hair, getting it in the exact way he wanted it.
Tia managed to laugh finally at his words. "Old man?" She questioned, and Technoblade put down the hairbrush to focus on her words, that of everything he said that's the one thing she hung on. "Aren't you both the same age?"
Technoblade smiled, clicking his tongue. "Technically he's like- a decade older. But that all starts blurrin' together." The God explained, now running his hands down his neck as if to make sure his wounds had properly healed over. "After a couple million decades they stop matterin' as much. But a decade with you has been the best decade I'll have." He smiled, slipping on a pair of boots Phil had also left for the younger God.
Tia grabbed the water and golden carrots Phil gave Technoblade, gesturing to the Syndicate's large exit to a tunnel. She internally knew that he had spent who knows how many decades with her, but she supposed it was the thought that mattered. "Let's head to the cabins, shall we?" She chuckled, watching him finish tying his boots up. "You can take a shower, shave and all. I'm sure us three have plenty to catch up on."
He nodded, putting a few leather journals Tia assumed were from the prison in his enderchest with the hairbrush,then leading Tia out of the Syndicate meeting room, admiring walls that weren't obsidian. It was overwhelming his senses a bit, he was quite close to- what could be considered a death if not for the Goddess watching over Phil and himself. The Goddess watching over every immortal, souls unable to pass over. They had jobs after all, mortals had to be reigned in somehow.
On the way back to the cabins, Technoblade was dealing with the temperature shock. And Tia could watch it happen. The man who was usually constantly warm now shivering, and they could only both assume it's a direct result of going from being surrounded by red hot lava for three months to the Arctic. "You seem to be happier." Technoblade commented casually, noticing how Tia was suddenly enjoying being in his presence. And seemed to be experiencing the same with Phil before the Angel left.
Tia looked up to him, red meeting grey for the first time in what they both deemed too long. Far too long. "I am." She said simply. Seeing they were approaching the end of the hallway that led from the Syndicate to the cabins. "Let's go to my cabin." She suggested, though Technoblade noted that it sounded less like a suggestion and more like an order.
He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "Why not mine? My bathroom has a taller shower 'n stuff. Plus I wanna shave, my cabin is made to account for my height." He wasn't exactly arguing with Tia, moreso not understanding her logic.
Tia glanced at God again, stepping out of the tunnel and into the snow. Watching Technoblade begin to shiver even more. Gritting his teeth, they both knew it would take a week or two for him to properly acclimate to the weather. "The fire in your cabin hasn't been going since you've been gone, it'll be cold." She quickly thought of the excuse.
Instead of the fact that she had been practically living in his home.
Instead of the piles of letters scattered across his bedroom.
Instead of the moved floorboard.
But, the excuse seemed adequate to him. As he carefully grabbed her hand, holding it delicately and rubbing his thumb in small circles on her skin. An old habit Tia couldn't help but wonder how he gained. How many lives did he do this to, and how many times over the years did her heart skip a beat each time he did so. How many times until she became an apparent disciple to the Goddess of Death.
They stepped onto the familiar porch, not one step creaking under their weight. Technoblade and Phil have always been fantastic at building like this. Then, Tia realized her mistake. Because Technoblade pointed happily at his cabin across the porch. "Hey, Beautiful." He gestured to how there was smoke rising from his chimney. "Phil musta started the fire for me, old man makin' up for lockin' me up." He joked lightly. "I'll never let him live that down and he knows it." He began to walk her to his cabin, his cabin, Tia had to remember that.
It's his. Theirs. He's part of her.
He doesn't know that she's aware. He doesn't know the tears she cried and the sleepless nights. But as he entered the warm cabin and sighed happily, took off his boots and politely kneeled down to help her take off her own; she realized there was no use to living in blissful ignorance with him. There was no use acting like she didn't know. No use in pretending when reality was so much more enjoyable and pleasurable. She was happy, and he deserved to know just as much as she deserves to experience it.
So Tia let Technoblade slip off her winter coat she had been wearing, it was one of Phil's since the Angel claimed the one Eret made her wasn't suitable for how cold the Arctic got lately after blizzards. And as he hung up her coat she couldn't help but grin as Technoblade quickly kissed the side of her throat. The scruff of his beard scratched her skin lightly as he pulled away. "It's good to be back." He mumbled out, leading her up to the hallway where she knows she's spent hours upon hours pouring over ink filled pages.
So when he went to reach for their bedroom door, she did it instead. This was for her to show, it was her turn to take control.
This was everything she deserved and everything she had coming.
So she opened the door.
Technoblade's world fell apart and rebuilt itself in a matter of milliseconds. Staring at the hole in his floor and his bedroom covered in binders and folders of papers. Some papers were loose and laid across his bed and desks. He didn't know how to react, brain realizing far too late that he couldn't explain himself out of this. That of course there was a reason after months of arguing with Tia that she was so mellow- so- in love. There was a reason that Tia walked up behind him, arms wrapping around his Torso as she pressed her face to the back of his neck.
Quite literally, everything was laid out on the table now. The Blood God having to reach out a hand to hold the wall, steady himself so he wouldn't fall to the ground out of probably shock. He didn't know anymore. "I-" He stuttered out, he should have known this was coming. He should have taken this into account. "I'm sorry." He settled for.
Tia let go of him, instead calmly walking into the room practically containing his life story. Grabbing papers on his bed delicately, stacking them up and placing them on the bedside table. "Sorry for what?" She questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed- their bed- it's theirs. She knows that now. "For hiding this? For lying to me for years? How about fifty other things you should be explaining?" She spoke somewhat accusingly, but underneath all of it Technoblade heard something ring out in her voice as clearly as possible. Adoration, something he was familiar with.
So Technoblade walked over, stepping around folders and papers he is well acquainted with. And sat down next to Tia, reaching for her hand and holding it tightly. Where could he begin? How could he possibly explain every last moment and experience? So he started with what he knew was the beginning, every beginning.
He took a deep breath, and he glanced at her one last time. One last time before he delved into memories that hurt to hold, memories that crumbled if he looked at them too hard and for too long. "It starts the same every time." He began, looking around at the papers still scattering his room. "I turn a corner, and there you are. You bump into me, and you always have the same annoyed expression. Like I just ruined your day by bein' there. Each corner I turn in every random Kingdom I always hoped you'll be on the other side, and each time you're there I know I'll be watchin' you die in a few decades or so. But at least those decades with you are better than the decades spent waitin' to see you again." He found himself weakly laughing, whether it be from sorrow or joy. Sorrow because of each time it happened and joy that he'll never have to experience it again. "I was laughed at by other Gods, out of pity or maybe amusement. I know I'll always have eyes watchin' me. 'How lucky does a God have to be to have a soulmate, and how unlucky does a God have to be for it to be a mortal.' Phil told me, it was the third time I found you we realized what was happenin', you don't run into a reincarnation by happenstance three times in a row."
Tia watched him speak with wonder, hearing a story she's experienced thousands of times but never witnessed herself. A story she'll have ingrained within her but never be able to read. "Phil must be lucky then." Was the only thing Tia said in response.
"Why's that, Love?" He tried to speak lightheartedly.
"He has a Goddess for a soulmate." She smiled, thinking back on Kristin's words and wonderment as she described the Angel.
Technoblade looked back down at Tia. "The chance of a soul splittin' in its creation by the Gods is next to nothin', the chance of a soul being formed to be a God is even less. We exist on impossible odds." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and mumbling words against her skin. "I'd call us lucky. And you forget somethin'."
Tia looked at sanguine red eyes as he pulled away, curious. "What's that?"
He gestured to the hundreds of papers surrounding them. "This will never happen again." He whispered to Tia. "You're a Goddess, Torva. Kristin claimed you. For all I care I'm the luckiest man alive." They know now that just as they were originally one, split into two, they were created and meant to be. This time around, created to last. So many emotions and thoughts conjured up between two people, flaring and sparking. And not one word could be formed to describe any of it.
"Tia." She whispered back. "It's Tia. For you and Phil, It's Tia. You've known Tia for thousands of lives, and she's still here. I'm Tia, Tech."
Technoblade finally leaned down, pressing his lips against her own. Relishing in the slow and smooth movement, the warmth and soft delicate pricks of teeth. Letting his hand rest on her lower back and the other lifting to her jaw. Her own hands now in his hair like they always belonged. "Tia." He echoed against her mouth, it slid off his tongue like ichor and ambrosia. Just like it always has and always will, she found herself getting lost in the golden plated murmur of a name, and couldn't help but wonder how she never heard the fondness in the word before. How she never realized he held the name on a pedestal and treated it like something to worship. But now she was Tia just as she always has been, and always will be. Torva is something to hold dear, but never will it be the name she was given millions of years prior, and never will it be the name Technoblade has held dear to his heart ever since he heard it spoken for the first time like a siren song. Tia will be Torva to the millions who fear her and her rank as a Goddess, who run when they hear her name and the sanguine red that she will leave in her wake.
Tia will be nothing more and nothing less than Tia herself to those she adores and holds dear to her ichor filled and beating heart, sickly sweet and calloused all the same.