Far Beyond Fixing (Dark SBI)

Chapter Three

A/N

yoooo we are back with another chapter! buckle your seatbelts, this bitch is getting angsty

also I would like to add that when I do finish this fic I'll probably come back and make this transistion a lot cleaner, but I did originally write this fic with the intention of being a oneshot so i got impatient. from now on, the time passing will be consistent and primarily day by day and not years lmao

apologies for any mistakes in this, its unedited lmao

hope you enjoy!

TWs: fights, implications of depression and suicidal thoughts (Wilbur is not taking care of himself), and nonconsensual drug use via syringe

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All good things must come to an end.

It was a phrase Techno had lived by for every year of his life.

Every kill had consequences of being caught. When he was sixteen, he remembered crying in a shaking panic as he realized the heroes were hunting him down, set on dragging him to Pandora in chains and unmoveable power suppressors. Every glimpse of the once-hopeful symbol felt like an omen; every smile they flashed in interviews had venomous fangs.

Every good day made the next feel bad. Everytime he managed to calm himself, to simply live in content peace for an hour, the morrow wrapped him in a suffocating blanket of sadness. He drowned in it, clinging with a hopeless desperation to the whispers of the voices as they sharpened the world around him; filled it with meaning and purpose, no matter how lifeless it truly was.

Every victory had a scratch. Every swing of his sword brought the sharp ache of overused-muscle, leaving him to ice his shaking arm with silent tears in the comfort of his own home.

And, most importantly, all trust comes with the ability to be broken.

In all of his life, Techno had never feared trust. After all, it was impossible to be afraid of something you couldn't fathom; the concept was just as vague as a hunter in a fairytale, created to be terrifying, but always overshadowed by the far more pressing villain.

Trust was impossible.

Until Wilbur and Tommy had entered his life.

And by then, it was far too late to comprehend the consequences that came with it.

***

Techno awoke on a Tuesday morning to a very distraught Wilbur.

The kitchen, the place where they arguably spent most of their time–whether through cooking whatever outdated recipes Wilbur had found on some mom's Facebook post or simply sitting and chatting on the counter–was a normally cheery environment. But today, walking into it, still clad in the PJs he had borrowed from Wilbur, Techno could feel the immediate shift from the bright atmosphere into something darker.

Because Wilbur– Wilbur sat at one of the stools, his head in his hands and his chest rising and falling far too quickly to be healthy.

"Wil?" Techno asked gently. The elder flinched at the addressal, not even bothering to look Techno in the eyes as he pried his hands away from his eyes. The stool creaked as he turned, revealing the red puff in his brother's eyes that immediately made his heart pang in concern.

For the longest moment, they stared at one another in silence. Minutes ticked by painfully slow as Techno crossed his arms over his chest, attempting to hide the shaking of his hands, before, finally, relievingly, Wilbur spoke.