a series of sbi oneshots

old fights and warm nights

Tommy couldn’t tell if the snow had gotten colder or if his body was just more malnourished since the last time he had stood on the sturdy spruce of Techno’s porch.

The snow flurries around him; specks of white landing in his greasy hair one moment and melting the next. He had the urge to stick out his tongue and feel their icy burn on his tongue. He pushed the desire down (it was too childish—) he was here on business (—and that was the one thing he had never been allowed to be).

Grey eyes drifted over the familiar landscape, carefully skipping over the door that was feeling more and more like a mouth, ready to swallow him whole.

His power tower was gone, he noticed idly.

Techno always was quick to move on.

Especially from things that hurt him.

Especially from Tommy.

…

Nail bitten fingers tightened on a wooden handle.

He wasn’t here to reminisce, he was here for business. He was here to right at least some of his wrongs, to make up for a part of his horrible noxious existence-

He thinks Puffy would be proud of him.

She was always telling him that healing wasn’t a linear process. Sometimes you have to break bones and tear skin anew for it to heal. Sometimes you go back to things you told yourself you were over and realize that they still hurt, the ache had just become background noise.

If this wasn’t snapping a bone then he didn’t know what it was.

(a stab to the heart. waterlogged lungs. something slow and painful and merciless)

Tommy takes a final shuddering breath before finally raising a fist to the door.

It swung open before he could knock.

“Theseus. I wasn’t aware you had a death wish.”

…

The blonde stared at the piglin, mouth hanging wide open.

Fuck.

Fuck, shit, balls, he wasn’t fucking ready.

The last time he saw Techno (his brother-) he was standing side by side with Dream (dream who abused him-) laughing as the last thing he had of Wilbur was blown to ash and dust.

His lungs burned, oh prime he was fucking drowning. He was in the sea, he was reaching for Tubbo, for his home. He was in Logstedshire, the thick scent of gunpowder cloying in his throat. He-

No.

He was at Techno’s house. He could breathe perfectly fucking fine. He was here for business.

He could do this.

(he had to)

“Tech-“ he cleared his throat, “Techno.”

The hybrid stayed silent, instead choosing to narrow his ruby eyes at the boy on his porch. One of his hands rested on the doorway, the other was resting idly on his sword. Despite his laxed position, Tommy knew that one wrong move and that sword would slit his throat before he could say “sorry”.

“I…” He pursed his lips, brow furrowing as he thought through his words. It wasn’t something he was used to; when he was younger he just rambled through every stray thought that tumbled through his mind. He knew the weight of words now (he knew how deep they cut).

“You were right,” he finally settled on, grey eyes turning up to meet ruby red.

“What?”

“You were right. Well, you were right about the axe of peace, I still disagree with what you did to L’manberg asshole.”