Stolen Chances

Chapter Thirteen

The sound of knocking is what he next woke up to. The plain white door creaked open as familiar pink hair entered the room. Technoblade stood in the doorway, a simple maroon hoodie and sweats on, holding a plate of steaming food.

Tommy fumbled to sit up, ignoring the way his ribs jolted at the sudden movement as he straightened up against the pillows to glare at the man, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Technoblade shrugged, approaching the bed with the food held out towards Tommy, "Figured someone should probably feed you."

Tommy hated to admit it, but his stomach was beginning to ache at the smell of the food. He huffed out a breath before sitting up more and reaching for the plate. "Has anyone told you you're a bitch?"

Technoblade snorted as he pulled out the chair abandoned at the side of the room, "Yeah," Tommy had a wide grin, "You."

His grin fell, "Well, it's true."

Technoblade dragged the chair closer before sitting down, kicking his legs up onto Tommy's bed, crossing them as he leaned back, "You know I didn't have to help Wilbur save you from that building."

Tommy sent the man another glare as he held up a fork full of food to his mouth, "That's not as effective of a jab as you think it is when you're the one who sent me into the building, to begin with." He bit into the food to finish his sentence. He hated that it actually tasted good. It's been so long since he last had a home-cooked meal. Hell, it's been a while since he'd prior eaten. With the whole being blown up and all.

Technoblade only shrugged again, "Just business, kid."

Tommy rolled his eyes as he pushed the food around on his plate, "Right, well then it's just business that I hate you, prick."

The pink man scoffed at this shaking his head almost fondly as he looked over the kid, "I don't understand Wilbur's obsession with you."

Tommy tensed at this before looking up at the man once more, "Have you considered he needs therapy?"

Technoblade didn't respond as his eyes shifted to his shoes in deep thought, "I tried to warn him not to get attached... You were a dead-end meant to be dealt with." Tommy's grip on the fork tightened, he began to realize he was not given a knife with his meal. "Maybe I'm just doubtful. You can only hand out so much trust before it bites you in the ass. I guess Fundy was enough of a warning for me to be wary."

Tommy sighed, throwing up his hands, "Again with this Fundy! Who the fuck is this bloke?"

Technoblade leveled Tommy with a stare, "He used to be Wilbur's kid."

Suddenly the food in Tommy's mouth tasted like dirt, swallowing like lead dragging him down. "He had a son?"

Technoblade shook his head, "Not by blood, but he practically raised this kid with how attached at the hip they were."

Tommy tried to swallow around the worrying thickness in his throat, choking on tension as he asked, "What happened to him?"

"He was a plant," Technoblade dropped his legs from Tommy's bed instead resting his elbows on his knees, "By Schlatt, an attempt to take us down from the inside. Wilbur found him stealing files from his office." Technoblade shifted in his seat, leaning in to stare Tommy directly in the eyes, "Do you know what it's like? To not see your brother smile for months? To watch the people you love be in pain, and there's nothing you can do to fix it?"

Tommy felt his fingers tangle up in the plain sheets of the bed as he stuttered out, "N-no,"

Technoblade scoffed, but before he could continue, the door opened once more. Phil stood in the doorway with a pill bottle in one hand and an unamused expression on his face, "You were just supposed to drop his food off, Techno."