Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

War Times

(Techno POV)

I watched in silence at the 2 boys, not bothering to reveal my presence.

"And most days, Wilbur, that's all I think about. How I was awake and could have stopped him, and I could've made him stay, and you wouldn't have needed to be king so young. I could have spared you for all of this, Wilbur. And now, everything's gone to shit and it's all my—" A sob tore free from his lips, sudden and unrelenting. "I want to help you. But I don't know how. Nobody ever taught me how."

"Tommy..." Wilbur's voice sounded so far away.

"But the worst thing," Tommy continued, trying to ignore the ever-tightening noose around his neck, "is that maybe I should have seen it coming. He used to come by your door, in the middle of the night, when you used to live across the hall. I kept my door open, just a crack, after the first time it happened, just to see if he would come again. And he did, so many times. I used to think he would knock eventually, but he never did." Tommy tightened his hold on himself, shaking with grief, and maybe with relief, too. "I think he was saying goodbye long before he left, Wilbur."

For a moment, the only response to his words was silence. Tommy was afraid to look up, to see if Wilbur had left, angry and betrayed. But instead, Tommy felt warm arms encircle him and pull him towards something safe and solid.

"Tommy," Wilbur whispered into Tommy's hair, "you were six."

And that was it. That was what broke Tommy, in the end. He crashed into his brother, wrapping his arms around Wilbur's torso, and burying his face in his chest. The tears finally came, a culmination of nine years of guilt and paranoia of stumbling through life unsure of where he stood with his brother, of fearing that one day, Wilbur might find out what he failed to do and hate him forever.

But this wasn't hate. This was the opposite.

"Shhh." Wilbur ran a hand through Tommy's hair. "It's alright, Tommy. Let it all out."

There was just the two of them in that moment. There were no voices, no ghosts, no secrets. Well, besides the fact I was hidden.

Just Wilbur and Tommy. Tommy and Wilbur.

Eventually, Tommy's sobbing ebbed. His cheeks were wet and cold from his tears, but he could breathe easier than ever did. He drew back from the circle of Wilbur's arms and found his brother looking at him with a gentleness that he could never deserve in a thousand years.

"See?" Wilbur said, delicately brushing stray tears from Tommy's cheeks. "Isn't it lighter with someone else to carry it with?"

Tommy sniffled. "You always have to be right, don't you?"

"Well, of course. Otherwise, I'd be stripped of my title as Grandmaster of Pretentiousness. The Council would have a field day."

Tommy laughed wetly. "What will your voices say after you suffer such a disgrace?"

"Funnily enough," Wilbur said softly, "they're very quiet right now."

"So, what happens now?" Tommy whispered into the dark.

"I don't know," Wilbur confessed. "But what I do know is that there should be no more secrets between brothers. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Tommy smiled. "No more secrets."

Wilbur looked as if he wanted to say something else, but Tommy would never have the chance to find out what, because at that same moment, I burst through the door, my expression like hellfire.

Wilbur was on his feet in an instant, reaching for a crumpled note I was holding out to him. Tommy watched his brother's face drain of all color as his eyes scanned through the message.

"What?" Tommy demanded, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. "What does it say?"

When Wilbur looked back at him, his eyes were bleak and haunted. "You wanted to know what conscriptions were for Tommy? Well, you're about to find out." I glared at the letter. So many wrong things, all on that piece of paper.

(Eryn POV)

Three men stood on a balcony where once there were two. A mortal king, a mortal prince, and their red-eyed teacher. In the gardens below, travelers were gathering, most weary from their journey from every corner of the vast kingdom. I watched from the shadows, Techno insisting I'd be safe like that.

Even now, more were still pouring into the capital city, staring in wide-eyed confusion, a conscription notice tucked into their pockets or crushed between nervous fingers.

All able-bodied citizens of the kingdom are called to the king's castle, the letters all said, carried from bustling towns to quiet villages by messengers on the kingdom's most swift-footed horses and courier birds taking to their familiar wind-carved routes. 

War is coming, and it is time to defend your motherland.

The conscription letter had gone on to specify that only those over the age of eighteen were to be included in the king's army. Many had chosen to ignore that. Among the horde trickling slowly into the heart of the kingdom was a brown-haired boy a year shy of the stipulated age. 

He kept the hood of his battered cloak up, so no one could see the traces of boyhood still etched into his skin like a brand. 

a/n

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