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

Find Him

(3rd Person POV)

Techno did not reply. Instead, he turned towards the front of tent, to the rain still raging outside.

"Someone needs to find Wilbur."

Philza found him at the very edge of the hill, kneeling over a cluster of blue flowers, the rain pouring over his shoulders. He seemed numb to the cold—to everything entirely—but when Philza spread his wings over him, keeping the downpour away, his dark eyes flickered to his father, just for a second. 

Just for a heartbeat. But it was acknowledgement, which was more than Phil could ever hope to deserve.

Techno's words echoed in his head, each syllable leaving bleeding wounds that Phil would never show. Techno had already suffered so much. Too much. Phil would rather die than add to that. Whatever apology he could come up with now would be meaningless—

A small, pathetic scratch against an iceberg of his own making. Actions, after all, spoke louder than words, and Philza was nothing if not a man of action. King at sixteen, Techno had said, as if it was the worst thing to be.

Now, looking down at his son, Philza knew it to be true.

Wilbur was holding his own hand in his lap. In the dark, Phil could just barely make out a jagged, barely-healed scar on his palm. He wanted to ask a million things at once—are you okay who did that what happened will you ever forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me—

But he held his silence, even if it was the second-most painful thing he had ever done. He waited. And waited. He would wait until the world ended, if that was what it took. And then, eventually, Wilbur spoke. "It really was meant to be."

"I'm sorry?" Phil asked gently. "Yeah." Wilbur sighed heavily. "You should be." "Wil—"

"Why didn't you visit?" Wilbur asked suddenly. Overhead, lightning arched across the midnight sky, and Phil finally allowed himself to look—really look—at his son. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader, but underneath the blood and grime and the haunted eyes, it was still his boy. His Wilbur, terrified of the dark. "Or even write a letter? Anything?"

Philza's heart shattered. "Because if I did, if I allowed myself that foot in the door, I knew I wouldn't have had the courage to leave again." "And did you ever think of us?" "Of course. Every second of every day."

"I never thought of you," Wilbur said. "Or, at least, I tried not to. It was hard. I saw you everywhere. In the paintings, in the garden, down every hallway. In Tommy's eyes. In Techno's words." 

He closed his scarred hand, so tightly that the wound opened once more, spilling blood onto the grass. "But what's strange is that I never saw you in me." Thunder echoed over the valley, but Philza barely heard it. "I think that's a good thing, Wilbur."

"No." Wilbur gave a rueful shake of his head. "No, it's not. I'm tired of pretending it is. I'm tired of everything. I wish I could be just like you and leave it all behind without looking back." That was enough. Philza went and kneeled before Wilbur, his hands finding Wilbur's shoulders. 

Wilbur's expression crumpled, and Philza knew it wasn't just rain dripping down his cheeks.

"Leaving you and Tommy," Philza said, "almost killed me, Wilbur. But I knew I had to, to spare you from exactly this." He shook him slightly, desperately, just to get any sort of emotion behind those cold brown eyes. "We can bring him back, Wilbur. This isn't the end."

He told Wilbur of his plans, of the years he'd spent hunting down every lead and every whisper of the Green God who could rewrite history, rewind death itself.

"I know," Philza said. "I know this doesn't absolve me of the things I've done—leaving you, when your mother had just... I thought I was protecting you from my world, but I should've understood earlier. You are my world. 

You and Techno and Tommy. And after this, after the Green God gives us your brother back, we can go home together. And you can be Prince Wilbur again, if you want. Or we could go somewhere else, find a place nobody knows our names and just be."

For a while, Wilbur was silent again.

Speak, Philza begged. Please talk to me.

At last, Wilbur said, "You know, children don't really care about why their parents leave. They only care that they did. It's a blessing, I suppose, that I never truly was a child, even when I was young." He nodded once, almost to himself. 

"And how sure are you that the Green God will give us anything? After all he's done?" Eryn scoffed.

"Because I'll make him," the Angel of Death vowed.

Wilbur scoffed. "Right. Techno told me about you, you know. Well, I guess you told me about Techno first, with your bedtime stories. Every time I prayed to the gods, I've only ever been praying to you. I'm not much of a pious man now." 

Wilbur gave him a ghost of a smile. "But I suppose faith is stronger when tested, right?"

Before Philza could say anything, Wilbur threw his arms around his father, pulling him into an embrace. Philza stilled, a frozen, unmoving statue in his son's arms. And then he cracked. He leaned into Wilbur, his own arms going around Wilbur and pulling him close. 

He still remembered the last time Wilbur had allowed himself to be hugged like this by his father. He was older now, and heavier, but that would never matter. Phil had never forgotten his initial hesitation at holding Tommy; that shame would follow him forever. 

But after that, he'd promised to hold his sons for as long as they would let him. And he had sworn never to be the first one to let go. Phil had spent nine years, ten months, three days and sixteen hours away from his eldest son. 

And now, in the rain and in the dark where nobody could see him cry, he was finally home.

Wilbur buried his face in his father's shoulder, clinging on for dear life. "This isn't forgiveness," he whispered.

"I know," Philza whispered back.

"And you have a hell of a lot more explaining to do."

"I know."

"And when we get Tommy back, you'll have to bend over backwards to appease him. That boy holds grudges longer than I do."

"I know, Wilbur, I know."

Phil felt Wilbur nod against him. "Then that's where we'll start."

When they returned, Technoblade was waiting at the mouth of their tent, the light behind him making him barely more than a shadow. In his left hand was a roll of bandages ready for Wilbur's nose. Wilbur found himself grinning, a quip already on his tongue, but was silenced as Techno crossed into the rain and wrapped Wilbur in his arms. Wilbur sunk wordlessly into the god's embrace, and both of them were finally warm.

Forgiveness came easily with brothers, after all.

The Angel of Death looked on quietly. He would not be welcome for this moment, not when there was too much between the three of them still, but he knew someday, he would be again. One day, the four of them would be together in a home full of sunlight. Looking forward to that distant time, Philza finally felt peace.

Inside the tent, a golden-haired prince slept on.

a/n

woooooooooooooooo almost at 500 reads!!!

my next goal is 1k reads!

sooooooooooo

have a good day, afternoon or night wherever you are!

byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee mah bootyful muffins!!!