Chapter Text
A little over twenty-four hours ago, Techno's closest experience with a gun (either as the one firing it or the one having it fired at him) had been from bland first-person shooter video games.
And honestly, it was all the familiarity Techno ever wanted to have with guns, if he was being frank. He loved animals far too much for the prospect of hunting them to sound appealing, and he didn't much fancy standing around aiming at human-shaped cardboard cutouts either. Sure, some might claim it was an invaluable way to defend yourself, but Techno figured he could get by with some pepper spray and his fists in a pinch. If he'd ever need it. Getting shot at didn't feel like it was a real risk he ran on the daily as an average college student with a part-time job and nothing else remarkable about him.
Twenty-four-hours-ago-Techno was a moron and current-Techno would like to have a word with him.
Between Phil getting thrown out of a window and Tommy being shot in the head, there probably wasn't a clear-cut answer as to who needed his help more. But Techno could tell which of the two was in more acute danger and also would lead to him having a chance to arm himself if he played his card rights.
So with a sharp inhale, he did what seemed to be his only option.
He rushed the guy with a gun.
His saving grace was that the man clearly didn't see him coming. He probably didn't expect the scrawny, gasping, nerd-looking one to make a move. Joke's on them for underestimating the desperation of an English major operating on severe sleep deprivation. Techno managed to tackle the gunman with the element of surprise, using that to his advantage to work them to the ground.
He didn't have a plan, just six feet plus of unbridled rage.
With a grunt, the guy went down and Techno didn't waste any time grappling for the gun held in his now slackened grip. A hand landed on his face, nails clawing at the skin. Techno was pushed off while the man snarled like an animal, but not before his fingers could close around the metal. He raised his arms and barely had time to exhale, remembering his lesson. Aim for the chest. Pull the trigger.
Kristin was right. He couldn't have prepared for the force of the recoil.
It slammed his shoulder into the concrete floor, pain ringing out through the entire limb. The bang was so loud it nearly deafened Techno and he was almost certain his arm had just popped out of the socket, that's how bad it hurt.
The man he'd shot crumpled to the ground.
Techno had shot him. Techno had shot somebody. Horror didn't really have a chance to properly dawn on him though, because everything started to happen very fast after that. The element of surprise wore off too quickly for him to do much else.
Kristin used it to her advantage to turn around and disarm the man who had his own gun trained on her, shoving her elbow roughly into his stomach before bringing her knee up while pulling his arm down. There was a sickening crack of bone breaking. He dropped his weapon and Kristin was already bending to pick it up.
But there was no way she would be in time.
Because the politician big shot was moving too. And with one simple push, Phil disappeared out the window. Techno could barely hear him scream over the white noise in his ear.
Politician guy smirked, looking every inch as pleased with the situation as he could be despite him being outnumbered. Uncaring, he aimed at them again - at Tommy, who had stood up in an attempt to get to Phil and Techno wanted to curse because yes, of course, make yourself an even bigger target, that's the right call here.
"Tommy!" Wilbur pushed off the wall but he was too injured to be fast enough to reach him.
Techno scrambled on all fours to get up on his feet, clumsy and desperate, to push Tommy out of the way instead.
A little over twenty-four hours ago, Technoblade had never fired a gun before. That had changed - and if asked, it wasn't something he'd recommend. It smelled disgusting (why did movies never seem to mention that any room where a gun went off stunk to high heaven?) and the recoil felt like it had cracked his very bones and he still couldn't hear right. It was worse than he'd thought it would be.
And a little over twenty-four hours ago, Technoblade had never been shot.
In a surprising twist, that wasn't actually as bad as he'd expected it to be.
It took him a few seconds too long to notice he'd been hit at all, body braced protectively over Tommy, who Techno supposed he'd need to apologize to at some point because he'd basically bodyslammed him into the floor without warning. The static noise was still much too loud to bear and everything was going too fast for him to parse. Techno had no clue what was happening anymore.
But it didn't hurt. It felt cold more than anything.
Like this weird cold pressure against his side that shouldn't be there so he looked down and even then it took a couple more blinks for his brain to even register that his shirt wasn't supposed to be red. And it definitely wasn't supposed to be changing colors, becoming redder in front of his very eyes.
It wasn't cold anymore then. It was wet and hot and it still didn't quite hurt but he suddenly felt so dizzy he thought he was going to puke into Tommy's lap. So he didn't really blame the kid for pushing him off. He landed on his back with a strangled grunt and that's when the pain hit as it erupted like a damn supernova.
He'd been shot in the stomach. They were in the middle of nowhere and Techno had a bullet inside him and he was bleeding all over an abandoned factory floor and he never got to turn in that literature analysis essay despite it being a banger actually, he worked hard on that sources page.
This sucked.
"Techno! Holy shit!" Somebody was shaking him by his shoulder - probably Tommy. Techno had barely enough brain function left to piece that together. He said something else but Techno couldn't hear over even more gunshots so he simply closed his eyes and sighed.
Yeah, this was all getting a bit overwhelming now. He could do with checking out of reality for a bit.
His brain seemed to agree, as it felt like it was seeping out of his very ears at the moment. Or at least his consciousness was, draining fast. Techno was tired and didn't really see any reason to resist that exhaustion from creeping up on him. It had been a long day, he deserved a nap.
He could worry about his deadlines in the morning.
For the second time in as many days, Techno was treated to the lovely, disorienting experience of waking up somewhere that wasn't his comfy bed.
Oh, who was he kidding, his bed sucked. It was small and it creaked when he so much as breathed, and the lumpy mattress seemed intent on poking him no matter how he tossed or turned. But it was familiar, and that made Techno feel safe.
Waking up to the smell of disinfectant and way too bright neon lights shining right into his eyes made him feel the opposite of safe. It made him feel a bit unhinged, actually.
Blinking to clear some of the blurriness from his vision, Techno winced when every inhale ached a little. Not really painful, but on the edge of it. His head felt woozy, stuffed with cotton, which told him he probably was hurting a lot worse than he knew but painkillers were keeping that at bay. When he tried to move his arm, there was the uncomfortable sensation of an IV stuck in it.
Was he in the hospital or did he die and was hell just distinctly hospital-like in appearance? Techno wouldn't be able to tell.
When he could finally clear his sight enough to focus on something, he saw Phil.
And Phil looked… fine. He didn't look like somebody who had been thrown out of a window, all things considered. He was a bit more bruised than the last time Techno had seen him and there was a cane propped up against the chair he was sitting in. But he wasn't a mangled corpse, which is what Techo would expect to happen to somebody falling such a height.
That's why he cleared his throat - the action in itself was pretty painful with how parched he was
"Are we… both dead?"
Phil's head shot up from where he was tapping away at his phone, eyes widening a bit in surprise at seeing Techno awake. His face softened immediately though, relief palpable.
Techno thought that was weird. Why would Phil care that much about how Techno was doing after he basically left the other man to be thrown out a window?
"Nope, it's the opposite," Phil said with a small smile. "Sorry to disappoint." It was probably meant to be a joke but Techno swallowed a bit uneasily.
"How did you-"
"Survive being thrown from the fourth floor? I got very lucky. A bunch of bushes basically caught the worst of the impact, I only busted my ankle." Phil got up, using the cane to get closer to the bed. Techno could see how badly he limped now. "Thanks to you, we all got lucky. You saved Tommy's life, mate."
Techno sat up a bit, groaning slightly when it pulled at his sutures. Crap, he'd forgotten all about that. "What happened, are they okay?"
"They're all fine. Tommy is at home with Wilbur, we're having our medics look after him but he'll recover. And you don't have to worry about any more bad guys."
The fact that The Crows had gotten rid of them all was left unspoken.
Techno paled, a mixture of emotions filling him. It was over. Two days of mayhem and him getting shot, but it was over and he'd get to go home. He wouldn't need to be caught up in all... this. He wouldn't need to see any of them ever again.
"We erased all your traces from the scene if that's what you're worried about." Techno blinked at Phil's words. Oh right, the fact that he'd committed murder had barely even crossed his mind. But it made sense that to Phil, that'd be a logical thing for Techno to be concerned over. "Nobody will be able to connect you to the events of last night, I made sure of it. For all intents and purposes, your history will show that you were walking home from work and became an accidental victim of a drive-by shooting, gang violence gone out of hand. To the police, you're nothing but an unlucky passerby."
"Oh," Techno breathed. "That's… that's good."
Phil's face fell a bit. "I thought you'd be happy about it? You can go back to your apartment once you're released here, you'll be safe."
"No, I- I am. I'm very happy actually." If Phil could tell he was lying, he didn't mention it. Only leveled Techno with a piercing gaze.
"It will be a few days. If you need anything in the meantime I could-"
"Actually," Techno cut in, not wanting to know what else Phil could be offering. "If you could pop by my apartment and get me my laptop, I'd appreciate it. I need to catch up on so much schoolwork."
Slowly, Phil nodded. The contemplative expression hadn't left his face. "Yeah, sure mate."
Techno couldn't meet his eyes again, waiting for him to leave the room.
It was time for him to stop being an idiot and return to reality.
"I don't think we properly got to meet last time," Wilbur said, extending his hand for Techno to take. "My name is Wilbur Craft."
Confused, Techno shook it.
Wilbur looked a lot better than he did during their previous, brief encounter. A lot of the swelling and bruises were gone, making him overall look less like he'd been some guy's pinata ten minutes before Techno met him. He was wearing glasses, which he hadn't been in the factory. And funnily enough, it only added to the effect of how much they looked alike.
Really, now that Techno had a moment to process it, that was a random and completely unexplained oddity.
"Uh, hi," he said blatantly, when he finally realized their staring at him was them waiting for an answer.
"Bitch, you act as if you're not even happy to see us!" Tommy complained. Without asking, he sat down on Techno's hospital bed and pulled up his legs, making himself nice and cozy. As if he owned the place.
"I'm- why are you here?"
"Because we wanted to see how you were doing, duh?" Tommy looked at him as if he was the one not making sense. "Did the bullet hit your brain or something?"
"Phil was here yesterday. He could have told you I was fine."
This wasn't making sense. Why were they still here? Techno didn't mean anything to them anymore?
"He did, but I still wanted to come. I needed to show you the comic books I read, remember?" Tommy pulled up his backpack, starting to undo the zipper.
"And after Tommy talked my ear off about you for two days straight, I wanted to get to talk to you in person," Wilbur admitted.
There was probably some eloquent answer Techno should have to that. All that came out was a confused, "Heh?"
They were there for three more hours.
The next day Phil came back, sitting at his bedside and just reading in silence.
The day after that, Kristin dropped by on her way to work. She brought him chocolates and flowers, and more of Wilbur's embarrassing baby pictures.
Not a single day passed or somebody was visiting his hospital room. Which was especially funny considering they all did it outside of normal visitation hours. Techno suspected that whoever Phil had bribed to turn a blind eye to the wanted criminals frequenting his room must be the same person who didn't care for hospital policy.
Techno still couldn't wrap his head around it.
Was it lingering guilt? Could they just not wipe their hands clean of him until they were 100% sure he'd make it home alive? Techno couldn't wait to finally get to his apartment and take a shower. It felt like it was an eternity ago since he was able to sit on his beloved, stupid, uncomfortable couch.
Then the evening before he was to be discharged came.
"I heard you're going home tomorrow morning," Phil said brightly. He was still using the cane, but he had traded it out for a custom-made one. Dark black plastic with gold embellishments and the handle was carved into the shape of a crow. It was… a bit dramatic, but oddly fitting for him.
"I am." Techno sat back against the pillows. "Thank god, since I have about a million school things to catch up on." When he didn't have the excuse of poor hospital wifi anymore, he was sure his professors would stop being so lenient on his slacking. Techno hated to admit it, but he'd be surprised if he wasn't going to fail half his midterms.
"I meant to give this to you earlier but better late than never, right?" What Phil pulled out of his pocket was a smartphone. Sleek, red. Definitely more modern than the one Techno dropped when he was kidnapped. "Since you lost yours because of us it felt fitting," Phil said. "I went ahead and already put our numbers in it, so you can call us if you need anything."
Completely befuddled, Techno opened the contact list. And true enough: Phil, Kristin, Tommy, Wilbur. All their numbers had been neatly saved for him.
Was this why they'd stuck around? So Phil could give him this… what was it even? A one-time lifeline? A get-out-of-jail-free card?
There had to be some specific function for this phone, right?
"I put our address in the notes app too," Phil said then. "Tommy is going to insist you come over for dinner on Saturday. It's pizza and movie night."
Techno opened his mouth, and closed it again. Finally, he could verbalize the one thought bouncing around his skull. "What?"
"Ranboo and Tubbo will be there too, it's like a whole thing we try to do each week. The whole family gets together."
And oh, maybe Techno was the one who had been a massive idiot all this time.
"See you on Saturday?" Phil asked before he left, tugging the jacket on while bracing the cane under his free arm.
"I guess I can pop by," Techno said calmly. Yup, he was definitely very cool and unaffected by this development.
When Phil was gone, he sank back into the pillows, fingers still flicking over the screen of the phone. Tommy was already messaging him, and by the looks of it sending him a dozen memes. With a sigh, Techno closed his laptop and opened the phone's messaging app instead so he could see what the kid needed from him.
Surely those deadlines could wait another day.