Healing takes time, not repression

Talk

TW: mentions of neglect, mentions of manipulation

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Techno pulled out two other beds. This was followed by a confused Philza who looked for an explanation on why he was carrying two, Techno flashed him an odd smile before not answering him. The beds were placed relatively next to each other hastily. The two sat down in their respective spots in silence. The two having so much to say but not sure on how to say it.

How were they supposed to? They didn't expect what they got tonight. Guess that's just Tommy. 

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"I didn't believe him at first" Techno started, head leaned up against a wall, looking up at the patterns the spruce planks were carved into. 

"What do you mean by that Techno?" Phil asked, pushing for the younger to continue

Said younger paused a second, trying to form a way to explain without it coming out a jumbled mess.
"All that stuff with Dream. He didn't say much about it. I only knew what little he said about it and what I had accidentally heard which extends to "Dream is a bitch" and eventually something about manipulation." Techno sighed as the figure next to him shifted. "He didn't show any sign of mental scarring; when I had found him beneath my house, he was just as feisty as ever. Cursing me out, stealing my stuff, but..." Techno glanced down at the sleeping boy to his right, watching his tail flicker slightly every few seconds. "Then again I never really got to know the kid, not like Wilbur did when we were children. I was always preoccupied with tryna figure out my own shit than pay attention to him. Yeah, we had our bonding moments but that never told me anything about him. I couldn't even tell you what his favourite food was." 

"I can't blame you for that Tech...you really did have your fair share of hardships as a child. Especially with the voices situation, mate." Phil offered, but Techno just shook his head.

"Don't give us a pity point Phil. We did ignore the two. After my problems started rising up, Wilbur and Tommy kind of raised themselves, no wonder they were so reliant on each other, or why Tommy followed Will to the very end, knowing the man was losing sanity and losing hope that he was coming back around." Techno drew his one of his knees in, placing his arm on it and resting his head in one of his hands. "Hell, Wilbur treated Tommy like shit and the kid still was willing to try and help him." Phil looked towards Tommy for a few seconds before swiveling his head away. 

"For all we know, Tubbo had been the only stable source of comfort for Tommy but that was ruined as well. Shit Phil..." The realization creeping on Techno's neck gave him shivers. "We messed up and we messed up bad." The man ran a hand through his hair, his fingers untangling some of his pink locks as he did so.

Phil bit his lip, not sure how to process this information. He thought he had payed attention to Tommy and Wilbur as much as he did Techno, but thinking back on it, he didn't even know how well Wilbur could play his guitar past the age of ten, he didn't know whether or not Tommy ever completed the red and green scarfs he was trying to knit, he didn't know when Wilbur had first tried to shave his face or when Tommy's calm personality turned rash and loud. 

"Fuck." Was the only thing Phil had said after a few minutes. He looked towards the sleeping figure, eyes softly studying how Tommy had grown. Why had he just noticed it now, after his youngest had a panic attack on his basement floor and his oldest pointing out their flaws? He realized that he never got to watch Tommy grow up. He didn't know how Tommy had acted when his voice first started to lower or how he had even learned to take care of the facial hair starting to grow on his face. He didn't know how Tommy had gotten the haircuts he did or when the round glasses the kid used to wear disappeared from his face. This was the first time in years that Phil was looking at Tommy as Tommy and not just the kid who was starting a nation with his older brother. He was looking at the older version of Tommy who used to curl up on his lap with his other two boys as he sat in a large rocking chair, reading a book by the fire. He remembers laying the three in their beds, softly brushing the hair out of their faces. God, where had that gone? When did he loose that sense of love? 

"How do we help him?" Techno muttered, almost to himself. Phil went to propose they just hug the kid, tell him that it's okay and that it would heal everything, but that was just some sick fantasy that this point. Phil had no idea what Tommy had been through and nor did Techno. The only person they both knew that the boy had trust in is Tubbo or Wilbur and even then...

"I don't know..." Whispered Phil, regret dripped from his tongue like blood on a sword. He looked at the tinted windows, the moon peering through as if it was giving the three a simple 'hello'. Phil placed his hat down, onto the floor, bottom up next to his shoes. "I suggest we get sleep...We can't do anything if we don't have energy ourselves." Techno nodded, slipping something back into his pockets. "yeah..." 

The two slipped off into an uncomfortable sleep, only one aware of what was happening back at home. 

Wilbur was sitting on Techno's couch, a cup of hot cocoa in his hands and a book in the other. He would be lying if he had said he wasn't worried for the two he knew as...well...semi family. He had thought the trip was only going to take a day and that the pair would be back by sundown. 

His body was half illuminated, the source being the fire near where Edward used to sit. His body was no longer the pale grey it used to be, his voice no longer had an echo when he talked, and his mind was returned to normal, along with the harsh memories of war, but the feeling of insanity that had pulled at his back was no longer there. He now lived in requiem for the previous alivebur. 

His currently wore some black sweatpants with a long sleeves grey shirt, his yellow sweater hanging on a hook by the fire; it was wet from doing some work out in the snow earlier. He brushed back his hair with his fingers, sighing as he closed his book. He glanced at the clock on the wall that read '12:21am'. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He supposed he should go to sleep, it wasn't good staying up doing nothing. They were strong, they would handle themselves.

Just as he got himself settled down in his bed, his communicator dinged, signaling someone texting him. He rolled his eyes and huffed. Who would text him this late? Wilbur went to turn over and go back to sleep, but the thought of it possibly being Techno or Phil made him sit up and look at it. 
He turned the device on and read the message. 

Techno:
We found Tommy.
XXX, XX, XXX

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(Sorry its short, I'm trying to make them longer)