Ours poetica

"I do the very thing I hate...I do not do/the good I want."

TWs for yelling and familiar arguments in the first section, and discussions of poor mental health and self-destructive habits (vaguely mentioned) in the last section.

Tommy had changed. This, in itself, was admittedly not a very astute observation, or any news either. However, Technoblade was a researcher—his profession was one of inquiry and the following trial and error, of questions and their results—and so, he would start with the basics.

Tommy had changed, not only physically but assumedly mentally as well, over these past seven or eight years. While Techno might not be able to discern the evolution of the latter, just by the metric of height he could see how time had passed. The kid had shot up like a bean-pole, looming over Technoblade who stood at a somewhat frustrating 5'10", and tall enough to reach Wilbur's eye-line. When the teenager had first slid out of the SUV to help them load their bags at the airport terminal, Technoblade had briefly been unable to recognize his little brother (and he was unable to ignore the lurch in his gut at that realization, that all it took was a glance to cement the fact his brother had become someone unfamiliar). Sure, there were still the dew-drop blue eyes (though they were now speared with pinpricks of grey), there was the tufts of blonde hair and barking laughter that silenced all other sound waves hovering, but it all felt like nothing more than residue from a childhood Technoblade had missed. He knew that Will saw it too, from the way his twin's eyes lingered on the teenager's blonde head of hair from their seats in the corner of the coffee shop, how he straightened his spine when Tommy passed as if to say I am still taller than you, that, at the least, will remain.

And sure, Wilbur was being petty, and sure, Techno was being stupid in thinking his little brother would go unchanged in eight years, but who could blame him? No matter how old he got, how he outgrew the heights penciled in on the kitchen wall, how he had returned to a stranger in the place of his little brother, this home and its inhabitants would always remain unchanged in his mind. There would always be the creaky step on the back porch and garage door that jammed; there would always be a father with a kind smile and kinder touch who made hot chocolate after nightmares, the brothers who kept him up at night with unrehearsed bedroom concerts and too-loud laughter; there would always be his childhood hidden in the details.

(But what happened when you left that childhood behind?)

Technoblade was an academic—he was not used to being out of his depth.

So he started with the basics, observing his little brother for any sign of change beyond the physical, analyzing every twitch of his hand and worry line upon his forehead. As he watched the boy interact with his friends at Kinokos, straining his ears to overhear the teens' conversation, he had come to two conclusions:

One—Tommy and Phil were not close, or at the very least, were currently in a spat. The boy had determinedly ignored his family as he chatted up the barista and sat with his friends; it made sense for him to be wary around Wilbur and Techno, they hadn't seen the properly gremlin in seven years give or take, and of course he would need time to acclimate to his brothers' new personalities that came with adulthood, but there was no reason for him to be so jumpy around Phil. The two had lived in that house by themselves for years—they would've been each other's only company after Wilbur moved out and took his charisma with him—it didn't make sense for Phil to look as though Tommy was the son he was seeing for the first time in almost a decade. Not to mention, Tommy's friends barely registered Phil's existence in the first place when they brushed past—that was not normal. Parents should know their child's friends, or at least recognize their names, and friends were meant to be politely introduced and well welcomed. And so that lead Techno to his next conclusion:

Two—Tommy was hiding something. Whatever it was, it was something that Phil apparently knew nothing about, and something he wasn't inclined to share with the family. And Techno would be damned if he didn't find out what.