Chapter Text
There is a grace that occupies the shadow in the dark forest.
For, even though the midnight sky is dark against the branches and leaves, the moon provides a steady beacon of light. It shines in patches against the forest floor, illuminating sticks and rocks and the occasional bug.
The forest is silent–as silent as a forest can be. There is, of course, the gentle chirp of crickets, the constant hum of different flying creatures, that permeates the air. The buzz of cicadas, the fluttering of moths desperate to reach the moon’s rays.
The shadow, graceful and silent in the thick forest night, glides past the dense thicket, passing from tree to tree.
It chooses another tree to hide behind. It’s thick, the bark gnarled and curled near the roots, and the shadow knows it shall be hidden.
It waits, then. Silent and still as it listens for an unassuming creature to approach.
There is nothing even after a while, though, and even the most patient of hunters can recognize when he is not getting any prey. So the shadow slips out from the darkness, and for a moment allows himself to be cast in the soft moonlight.
It’s not warm. Not like the sun (not that the shadow can even truly remember. It’s been centuries, millenniums, since he was casted in the sun’s golden rays). But it still bathes the shadow in a light, creating a scattered spotlight among the forest floor.
The moonlight illuminates the shadow called Technoblade, standing with his hands resting at his sides, eyes closed as he tilts his head towards the moon. He allows the light to filter through his closed eyelids, creating a soft, muffled canvas in front of him.
And then—
Snap.
Techno’s eyes open, but he does not move. He stands with his feet firmly planted, head still tilted towards the sky. He strains his ears.
Another snap of a branch breaking. It sounds far off, somewhere to Techno’s right. More concerning than the branches breaking, however, are the rapid sound of footsteps approaching him. Something on all fours—an animal, then. Just what Techno was hoping for. It even sounds like it’s coming right for him. If it’s going as fast as it can, Techno doubts he’ll notice Techno in time to go another way.
Techno turns to face the footsteps, bending his knees slightly. He flexes his fingers in participation. His eyes narrow as he stares at the edge of the trees.
Then the footsteps get louder, and Techno’s hair bristles, and there’s something shooting out of the brush—
Techno whips his hand out, wrapping his claws around the animal before it can hit him. Then there’s a scream, far more human than any animal Techno’s almost hunted. Techno startles, loosening his grip for only a moment before tightening it again.
“Ow ow ow!” The creature yells, and this time Techno really does loosen his hold. He blinks down at the creature he’s managed to catch.
And it’s… well, at first Techno thinks it's a human. He’s got rounded cheeks and a small button nose, mouth wide open and yelling. He’s waving his fists around angrily, tiny fingers clenched into a fist. But then Techno looks slightly up, and he can see the pointed, furry ears sticking out from his unruly blond hair. Techno shifts the boy to the side and he can see a tail.
“—me go, you bitch! Fuck you! Let me go!”
Techno’s currently got him grabbed by the collar of his shirt. He would be worried about choking him, but the boy is swearing up a storm just fine. He’s swinging in Techno’s grip, struggling and throwing his fists around.
“Fuck you, bitch! Let me down!” In between curses, he growls, the sound erupting from his throat.
It would be threatening, maybe, if the boy wasn’t obviously a child. He’s tiny— runt, his mind screams, looking at just how small the boy is in his hands. The kid would have no chance if he decided to attack Techno, yet he continues to try and fight back.
A little warrior, Techno thinks as the boy kicks and curses in his fist.
“—kill you! Fuck you! I’ll beat you up! I’ll—I’ll—”
“Calm down,” Techno rumbles, and the boy freezes in his grip. He finally looks up, staring at Techno’s red eyes. His eyes trail down to Techno’s mouth, and he knows he’s eyeing the fangs creeping out from underneath his lip. The boy gasps, looking back up at Techno’s eyes, then screams again.
“ Stop! ” The wolf-child screams, struggling twice as hard as he originally was.
Techno sighs. “Kid, stop . ”
The kid doesn’t stop. His growls have increased, though, and he’s trying to reach backwards to scratch Techno’s hands.
Stubborn, Techno thinks. A fighter. A little warrior.
“Stop, runt,” Techno says a bit louder, not harsh but strict enough that the boy might listen.
The boy tenses, then practically goes limp in his hand. The growls have ceased, now replaced with whines and whimpers, like a dog that had been scolded. Techno starts to reach out to adjust his grip, but the kid’s whole body flinches.
Techno blinks at the small child in his hands. It’s hard to see him completely in the dark, but Techno knows that things are wrong. He feels too light, even for his small size. The forest is cold, almost freezing, and yet the boy is wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and some shorts.
Techno sighs. He lowers his hand and drops the wolf-child to the ground. He hits the dirt with an oomph before staring up at Techno with wide blue eyes.
“Go back home, runt,” Techno says, watching the boy with careful eyes. He knows he could fend him off, but it would be a shame to injure the kid if he decided to take him on.
The wolf child stares back at him, still on his bottom, before hesitantly turning his head. He looks to his right, then his left, then gets up on shaky legs to look behind him.
Techno watches as the boy spins in a slow circle, stopping with his back to him. The boy stares outward for a moment, wringing his hands and swaying from foot to foot with a nervous energy.
“Well?” Techno says as the boy stands silently, his back facing him. The boy turns, then, and Techno can just barely see, even in the dark, how his lip wobbles and his eyes show a thicker gloss in the moonlight. “Do you not know your way back?” The wolf-child should be able to scent his way back to his pack, even for someone this young an age.
The boy’s lips set in an exaggerated pout, and for a terrible second Techno thinks he might start crying.
“I can’t,” he whimpers instead, voice weak and trembling.
Techno’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
The boy sniffles, and Techno almost winces as tears begin to leak onto the boy’s cheeks. His ears press back onto his head. “I can’t,” he repeats. “They’ll chase me away again.”
Techno’s ear twitches. “They chased you here?”
The boy nods.
Techno frowns. The werewolves know that this is vampire territory—should smell it all over the trees and the ferns. Even the young ones are taught not to cross the invisible border.
“On purpose?”
The boy nods again.
Techno’s frown deepens.
For a moment he just stares at the child. Watches the tears flow down his round-apple cheeks, the way his furry, pointed ears twitch as the wind blows. It is not quite winter, yet, but the air still has a sharp bite to it, especially at night. Even in the dark, Techno can see that the child is shivering. His teeth click as quiet cries leave him.
Techno sighs. He takes a step towards the child and grabs his middle.
The boy screams. Techno gets deja vu from earlier—the child kicks and screams, baring his fangs and snarling.
“Geez, kid. Calm down.”
The kid does not calm down. In fact, he screams even louder as Techno pulls him closer to his chest. Techno winces as the kid’s claws dig into his chest and arms, desperately trying to push himself away.
“Alright, alright,” Techno gruffs. “Settle down, now. You’re… You’re okay,” Techno says, a cheap mimicry of what Phil says to calm someone down. Techno almost winces with how much different he sounds than Phil, though. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The boy has stopped screaming, now, and has moved onto full-bellied sobs. “You’re lying!” He cries, still struggling in Techno’s arms. “You’re gonna—you’re gonna take me and—and—” he’s interrupted by one of his own hiccups, “you’re gonna—gonna eat me!”
Techno raises an eyebrow. “Eat you?”
The kid cries louder, as though Techno just confirmed his worst fears.
“No, hey. I’m not going to eat you. Or hurt you. You just need to settle down.”
Unsurprisingly, Techno’s words don’t work. Techno grimaces, still struggling to keep the child tucked into his chest.
He wishes Phil were here. Phil is usually good with children. They like Phil. They like Phil, and his large bat wings, and his kind red eyes. They do not tend to like Techno.
Techno can’t just leave the kid, though, so he doesn’t start moving until the tiny werewolf finally tires himself out. He’s still crying, but his body is limp now, too tired to keep fighting.
“Are you ready now?” Techno asks.
The tiny werewolf shakes his head no.
Techno sighs. “Look. I promise I won’t hurt you. Okay?”
The boy doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look up at Techno. He keeps his face buried into his own arms, which are subsequently buried in Techno’s chest. He’s trembling, shaking like there’s a tiny earthquake in his chest.
“Look at me,” Techno says, but the boy stays. “Look at me,” he tries again, and the boy finally lifts his head to look at Techno’s eyes. “I swear it,” he says, and he stops himself from knocking his forehead against the boy’s. It’s how his coven reassures promises. A pinky promise, of sorts, just with the forehead instead of a finger. He has a feeling the boy would not think of it like that, though. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Okay?”
The kid's eyes are still swollen and spilling tears, but he bites his lip and nods.
“Good. Okay,” Techno says as he turns around and starts walking back towards their house. He would usually run to save time (and so the meat from whatever he killed wouldn’t rot before he could get home), but with the wolf-child in his arms he decides not to risk it. The boy still hasn’t fully calmed down, and he’s worried that if he runs the boy will get startled and try to fight again. “You’ll be okay,” Techno says again, just for good measure. “I’m going to take you back to my coven.” The boy’s shoulders shake a bit harder at this, and Techno hurries to mend his statement. “They’re very nice. You’ll like Phil. Kids always like Phil. He’s the head of our coven.” The kid is still shaking, so Techno shifts him in his arms so he can cover him with his cloak. “Wilbur, too. Kids like Wilbur sometimes. They think he’s cool. I think it raises his ego too much, personally. Need to knock him down a peg or two.”
Techno continues to describe things for the boy as he walks home. Discusses Phil’s large leathery wings and Wilbur’s instruments. Talks about the last time Wilbur had tried to bake, how Phil once saved an injured bird even though it interrupted his sleep schedule. It’s awkward and stilted, and Techno has to push the stories out of his teeth at times. It’s not like he often tells his own family stories about their life. But Techno doesn’t want the boy to be scared when he gets there. Or, at the very least, he doesn’t want the boy to try to fight again (Deep in his brain, he keens at the thought of his little warrior. Not at the pup fighting him or his coven, necessarily, but his strength. His bravery. His firm stubbornness. All qualities that will do him well in the future, make him into a perfectly fine werewolf).
Techno pauses as he approaches their home. Unlike some coven leaders, who prefer large castles and high barricades, Phil had wanted something small. It is a small, simple cottage, a mix of wood planks and stone. That isn’t to say it’s unprotected; Phil has wards lining along the walls and around a small portion of the yard. It still looks small and cozy, however, and for once Techno is thankful for such. The boy’s trembling had lowered significantly throughout the walk, and Techno almost audibly sighs when it doesn’t start up again.
Techno walks past the protective wards and straight to the round wooden door. He doesn’t bother knocking. He takes a hand out from underneath the child, opens the door, then bumps it open with his hip. He quickly puts his free hand back around the werewolf’s figure.
No one is in the entryway, nor the living room, so Techno pushes a quick urgent-uncertain-insistent through the link.
Apparently it’s not the right thing to push, however, because Techno almost immediately hears footsteps rushing down the stairs.
“Techno? Are you okay?” Wilbur asks with a slight edge in his voice. He finally rounds the corner, looking Techno up and down.
Phil is next to round the corner, searching Techno with cautious eyes. “You alright, mate?” He asks with the same edge that Wilbur had.
The boy in Techno’s arms has begun trembling again. He’s hidden beneath Techno’s cloak, and Techno prays his shaking doesn’t appear in the thick fabric.
Techno clears his throat. “Yeah. Uh. I have, uh… I have something to show you.”
Phil raises an eyebrow.
“And—and you can’t get mad,” Techno adds on.
“Uh,” Wilbur says, glancing between Techno and Phil. “What do you mean?” He grins, and Techno can see slips of fang coming out. “Do something you weren’t supposed to, Technoblade?” He says it jokingly, mockingly, like he doesn’t think Techno truly means what he’s saying.
Techno huffs. His fingers tense around the wolf child. “I’m being serious.”
“Wilbur,” Philza interrupts before Wilbur can banter back. He glares at him for good measure, then looks back to Techno. “Go on,” Phil says.
Techno hesitates.
This… This could potentially go terribly wrong. Techno likes to think that his coven wouldn’t hurt the boy, wouldn’t force Techno to kick him out back into the forest. But the child is also a werewolf. Techno couldn’t even try to hide it, the kid’s ears are almost the size of his head. Techno can feel the kid’s tail against his stomach. If his coven says he can’t keep the kid, the little warrior, he’ll have to find somewhere else for him.
Wilbur is staring at him in belated amusement, though, and Phil is still watching him with careful eyes, so Techno shifts a hand away from the boy to open up his cloak.
They both gasp and Techno can feel the kid try to shrink into his arms. His trembling is almost as bad as it was out in the woods.
“Techno,” Phil breathes. He opens his mouth as though planning to say something else, then lets it shut without a single word coming out.
“A werewolf?” Wilbur says in disbelief. There’s still a furrow to his brow, it’s obvious he doesn’t like this. “Techno, are you fucking stupid?”
“Wilbur—”
“He was alone,” Techno clarifies.
Wilbur sputters. “As if that helps! His pack is going to come looking for him, Techno, and then what? You’re inviting trouble, why the hell—”
“Wilbur,” Philza says, and his tone of voice shushes Wilbur completely. He nods angrily to the boy in Techno’s arms, shaking and hiding his face. Wilbur’s lip twists, but he keeps his mouth shut.
Phil takes a moment to stare at the boy from afar, then steps closer.
The little werewolf has his head tucked into Techno’s chest. He hasn’t looked at the rest of Techno’s coven since he got here.
“Hello,” Phil tries. He leans over slightly so he’s face-level with the kid. Not like it matters, though; the kid still keeps his face tucked into Techno’s chest. “What’s your name?” Phil asks, though with the same results as last time: Silence. The boy’s body is still trembling.
“Tell him your name, runt,” Techno says, slightly shifting the boy in his arms.
The boy is still shaking like a leaf, but he manages to mumble something.
“What’s that?” Phil says kindly. “I can’t hear you past Techno’s shirt, mate. Do you wanna say it again?”
The boy digs his claws into Techno’s shirt (and one of the claws manages to hook his skin, ow) before lifting his head up and mumbling, “Tommy.”
Phil smiles. “Tommy. There we go. That’s a very good name. I’m Phil. He’s Wilbur,” and at this Phil motions towards the brown-haired vampire behind him. Phil waits a beat, but the little werewolf—Tommy—doesn’t say anything. He still hasn’t looked Phil in the eye. Rather, he keeps his eyes trained on the wooden floor below him.
“You’re awfully thin. Where is your pack, Tommy?” Phil asks gently.
Tommy wilts at the question. “Don’ have one,” he says quietly.
“No?”
Tommy’s lip begins to wobble again. “Didn’ want me anymore,” he mumbles again, and Techno watches as tears roll down his cheek once more.
“Oh, mate,” Phil murmurs softly, and Tommy pushes his face back into Techno’s shirt. “It must have been a long night, huh? How about we go upstairs and put you to bed?”
Tommy starts to cry harder, shaking his head with more fervor.
“No? Why not, mate?”
“You’ll—You’ll hurt me,” Tommy hiccups. “I don’t wanna get hurt.”
Phil frowns. “We won’t hurt you, Tommy.”
Tommy shakes his head once more. “Yes, you will! You’re gonna—you’re gonna be real mean to me, and then you’re gonna drink—drink from me and then I’ll be dead, and I don’t wanna be dead,” Tommy cries, tiny sobs wrecking his throat.
“Tommy,” Techno says, shifting the boy in his arms once more so he looks at Techno this time. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you, right? I promised you would be safe. We won’t hurt you, runt. I’ll make sure you’re safe. None of us will touch you, I promise.”
Tommy’s sobs quiet down to just a hiccup. He’s still clutching onto Techno’s shirt (his claws keep hooking on Techno’s skin, why, why —) but the tears coming out of his eyes have slowed.
“Are you fine to go to bed, then?”
Tommy takes a shuddery breath. “Promise?”
“I promise, Tommy.”
Tommy looks away, then nods.
“Alright,” Techno says softly. “I’ll take him upstairs,” he says to Phil.
“Come back down when you’re done,” Phil murmurs, still staring at the small child in his arms.
Techno nods and then leaves to walk up the wooden stairs.
Their coven is a tight-knit group, so their cabin doesn’t have any sort of guest room. Techno bites back a grieved sigh. He’ll have to give up his own bed tonight. Not only will Techno have to sleep on the couch tonight, but he’ll have to wash the sheets tomorrow. In the warm light of the lanterns, Techno can finally see Tommy clearly. He’s covered in dirt, and his hair and fur both seem terribly matted. Scrapes, scratches, and bruises cover his flesh. He’s clearly not been cared for. Techno can see the dirt and twigs that rub off onto his sheets as he places the child into the bed.
Tommy is quick to scamper into the bed and pull the blanket over himself. He pulls it over his head as though it will hide him from Techno. Techno takes another moment to silently mourn his pristine clean comforter.
“Are you going to be alright, kid?”
Tommy doesn’t answer, but Techno watches the comforter shift and move as the kid finds a comfortable spot.
“Alright. I’ll be downstairs. Just—find us if you need something.
Tommy stays silent, so Techno decides it’s okay to go back downstairs.
“Techno,” Phil calls before Techno even gets off of the last step. Techno grimaces, stepping into the living room where Phil’s voice came from. Both Wilbur and Phil are sat on the chairs. Phil sits up straight, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers together as if in thought. Wilbur, on the other hand, has a white-knuckled grip on the arm rest. He’s glaring daggers at Techno as he slips through the doorway and takes his own seat.
“So,” Wilbur grits out. “Care to explain why you brought something here that could kill us all?”
“He’s a kid,” Techno says casually, leaning back into his chair and resting his chin on his palm. “He’s not going to hurt us. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to.”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Wilbur snarls. “His pack could come for us. Will come for us, Techno, and for once it would be for good fucking reason.”
“You heard the kid,” Techno says, shutting his weary eyes. “He doesn’t have one.”
Wilbur laughs dryly. “Yeah, because I trust the words of a four year old.”
“He did look… unwell,” Phil interjects.
Techno snorts. Yeah. Unwell. His tiny warrior, matted and bruised and cut, looks unwell.
“So?” Wilbur argues. “If he ran all the way here, he probably ran into trouble.”
“Ran into trouble?” Techno asks, and he opens his eyes to glare at Wilbur. “What kind of trouble in our woods would leave him that damaged?”
Wilbur huffs angrily. “He’s young, Techno, I don’t think it would take much for him to get hurt. Look, even if his pack doesn’t want him, he’s too dangerous to keep here.”
Techno has to push down the growl that’s begun to roll in his chest. “We’re not leaving him in the woods to die. His pack didn’t want him, there would be nowhere else for him to go.”
“I’m not saying we just dump him in the woods! Let’s just find someone else to take him. We can’t have him here, Techno, he’s a fucking danger. What happens if his pack decides they want him back?”
Techno can’t help the way his instincts draw his lips back. He’s displaying his fangs, trying to show that he’s a threat. “You’re acting like we’ve never killed werewolves before.”
“Boys,” Phil finally says, voice loud and sturdy, and both Wilbur and Techno go still. Phil sits for a moment, staring out towards nothing in particular. Then he takes a breath and leans back in his chair. “He’s going to stay with us, Wilbur—” Wilbur makes a noise of defiance, and Techno can feel the tightness in his chest begin to loosen. “—for now.” Wilbur’s noise dies in his throat. The tightness in Techno’s chest returns. Perhaps not as tight as before, but enough that he feels a slight pressure. “Techno is right. He’s a child, and he has nowhere to go. Werewolf or not, we can’t leave a child to die. However,” Phil looks towards Techno, “We are not werewolves. We cannot provide Tommy with what he needs. He is not ours. All of us would be better suited if we found somewhere else for him to live and be raised. Is that clear?”
Techno pushes against the active disappointment, anger, that is beginning to rise. “Yes,” he grits out.
“Fine,” Wilbur scoffs.
“Good,” Phil sighs, then rises from his chair. “It’s about time to go to bed, boys. Don’t stay up much longer.”
Wilbur watches as Phil leaves the room, then huffs. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Technoblade.”
Techno glares at him. “He’ll only be here for a while, Wilbur. Calm down.”
Wilbur leaves the room with another upset, dismissive sound, and Techno gets up and moves to the couch.
He’ll only be here for a little while, Techno thinks to himself, ignoring the weird way his chest twists. And then he’ll leave.
It’ll just be a little while.