Chapter Text
It was rather early in the morning, the clock having just struck seven, and Phil, knowing his studious son on a Saturday, was planning on sleeping till noon.
These days were quiet, what with Tommy off doing who knows what outside and Wilbur groggy from a week of study.
Philza took a sip of coffee, wondering when Tommy would wake up and start his mischief.
It was a lovely day, the weather was crisp, but not too cold, as it always was when fall began to show its colours.
He finished off his coffee and decided that it would be a good morning for a walk. After all, there was a not-too-tall-but-still-cool mountain just outside.
They lived on the edge of the town, farther from the bustling but close enough to still be city people.
Philza washed out his mug, then put it in the sink. He wrote a quick note, just in case, put on his robe, and headed out the door.
A cool wind rustled the hair under his hat, and he couldn’t help but smile at the clear blue sky and misty morning light.
Phil did indeed love these days.
He started his way up the slowly rising forest full of wild berries. It was a slow slope, so you barely noticed you were going up until you looked down and saw the city a little smaller, and your limbs a little heavier.
Phil had been here many times, however, and the trip was nothing more than a walk in the park to Phil.
He usually stayed away from the denser forest but the sun was bright and the air was cool, so Phil decided a little exploring wouldn't cause a lick of harm.
In the end, he couldn't tell if that statement was true or not.
He was expecting to be casually walking in the forest and maybe pick some berries, scout the area and head back.
He was not expecting to walk through some trees and find a small wooden hut (if it could be called that) with blankets and paint strewn around strategically placed logs.
Phil sighed. Of course there was a homeless camp this deep in the forest, what else was he expecting?
It seemed empty at the moment so he inspected a bit so he could report it.
He took slow steps forward until he was in the middle of the logs, and now could see a doused fire. The more he turned his head the more he felt like it was less of a homeless camp and more of someone just wanting to live in the woods with no real plan.
Still a problem, though.
He took a step towards the hut and winced as a loud crackle met his ears.
He sighed, and looked around, still quiet. Perhaps it was abandoned?
That theory was immediately proven wrong as something shiny whizzed past his cheek, leaving it stinging.
He glanced behind him to see a knife dug deeply into the tree behind him. He slowly turned around.
Phil was taken by surprise when instead of a gruff or old man, there was an irritated kid with floppy ears and another figure behind him with an axe in hand.
"Whoa," Phil said slowly, putting up his hands as a sign of peace.
The first kid just stared at him with blood red eyes, that worried him a touch. Was he okay?
The figure behind came out in front with the axe tightly in hand, a mask with an ominous smile painted into it seemingly glaring back at him.
Phil's eyes grew soft. He didn't know why, but two kids were out in the woods on their own, and he'd be damned if he let them stay there. Just looking at them you could tell they were malnourished.
"Hey, I was just taking a walk okay?" Phil coaxed calmly, "what are your names?"
He took a slow step closer.
Bad move.
The pink haired kid stepped back and straight up growled at Phil, while the first came right at him.
Well, they knew how to take care of themselves.
He dodged the gleaming axe, noticing with a start this kid had somehow gotten his hands on netherite, and was now standing closer to the pink haired child.
Phil smiled warmly and gave a little wave while he watched with a calculated eye.
Phil heard the masked kid huff behind him as he charged again, and Phil prepared to dodge once more when a gravelly, tired voice came from behind him.
" Dream. "
The kid stopped immediately.
Phil turned back to the kid behind him and found him looking much more tired, red eyes half hidden under heavy lids. Phil still didn't dare move. The kid looked exhausted and yet somehow he could tell that if they were to clash, chances are they'd be an even match… maybe.
The masked kid still needed work.
Speaking of which, Phil turned to find him again, but he was gone. Phil's heart sank a bit. He wished he could've at least talked to him first.
He sighed and turned back to the one still present, finding him shifting eyesight between Phil and the forest behind.
Ah, a distraction. Of course.
Phil crouched down and smiled once more, now in level with the kids gleaming eyes.
He hated to say it, but he didn't look quite human. More like some sort of hybrid.
Phil hadn't been in the nether since he adopted Wilbur and Tommy, but if he had to guess, this kid was part piglin.
The red eyes still worried him.
"I'm Philza Minecraft, you can call me Phil though," Phil greeted, "How about yourself mate?"
He could practically see the kids' gears turning, wondering whether to answer.
He lowered a hand to his hip, something - probably a weapon - hidden beneath a thin red cloak, torn and stained by the forest.
"Technoblade."
The name threw him off, but he didn't let it show.
"Well then, Technoblade, what are you doing out here by yourself?"
Techno knew why he was out here, more than his parents thought he knew. His mum was a cheat, his "dad" against hybrids, and the dead beat he never met left to burn in the bastion it called home.
So here Techno was, and what a stupid question it seemed coming from this man.
He didn't have to answer, he didn't need to answer. The ringing in his head thought otherwise, but he stayed silent.
Techno learned early on that words hardly helped dangerous situations.
After a minute or so of silence, Phil chuckled nervously.
"Not much of a talker, are ya'?" He chided, trying to lighten the situation.
It did not do much.
They stood awkwardly for a long while before Techno loomed up with tired crimson eyes with a question on his mind.
"What are you gonna do?"
The question took Phil off guard. Sure, he had been known for collecting strays, more commonly cats, but at one point Tommy.
Wilbur was his only blood son, and the wings proved it. Phil had a bit of experience in hybrid parenting.
Phil had immediately wanted to take them in upon seeing them. It was fall, and only getting colder as winter came. The kid had the torn cloak, and upon further inspection, a large comforter in the hut, but Phil knew being warm was only part of the struggle of winter.
Phil sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
The kid wasn’t expecting that. The red eyes widened slightly, looking up into Phil’s eyes, head tilting slightly in surprise and curiosity. There was a heavy, tired and distrusting look in the kids eyes, something he was much too small to have had. Yet it was there, and Phil couldn’t in good conscience leave the kid out here alone.
Phil made a soft chirping sound, the kids eyes- Technoblade- only getting wider.
“You’re a hybrid, yeah?” Phil asked.
Technoblade watched carefully, nodding slowly, unsure of where the conversation was going. Phil smiled gently, and shifted his cloak slowly, raising a large black wing out into view.
“Me too.”
Phil watched Technoblade give he wing a calculated once-over. Phil had been hoping the similarity would relax the kid, but the tense shoulder on the kid stayed the same, even taking a small step back, body posed to flee.
Phil pulled his wing back slowly, hiding it beneath the cloak once more and slowly sitting down where he stood. Now the kid looked… uncomfortable? Nervous, awkward almost. Phil couldn’t help the small quirk of a lip, the kid was quiet, scared, but brave.
“How about we make a deal?” Phil finally offered after the silence of the forest grew uncomfortable. Technoblade tilted his head, ears lifting slightly. Phil took that as a means to continue. “Why don’t you come on back with me, your friend can come too, if you want. As it is, I can’t leave you out here mate, it's not safe-"
Technoblade stamped his foot hard into the soft ground, snorting and glaring up at Phil with disdain in his reddened eyes. His ears were presses back as he stubbornly sat down on a log behind him.
This wasn't going well.
Phil rubbed at his face from where he was, looking tiredly at the kid. "I know its not ideal, but it's either that or cops, which I can take you to if you prefer. But with the fact that I have no idea how long you've been out here I figure chances are you're not in good spirits about CPS."
Technoblade flinched at the word's, looking away from Phil's eyes for the first time since they started talking. A thin tail he hadn't noticed before began thumping the log next to him is quick, anxious pats.
Phil stayed quiet a minute, letting the kid process the information. After a moment the kid looked up, distrust in his hardened eyes. (They reminded Phil of when he first fostered Tommy, angry and stubborn in an attempt to hide the fear that floated in his sons every unconscious movement.)
"One." Techniblade finally said, fixing Phil with a hard glare.
Phil hummed, considering the implication. "One what?" He asked, making sure to sound open to any answer.
Technoblade narrowed his eyes, and pointed at the sun above the trees. Dang, the kid really hated talking.
"Day?" Phil confirmed with a questioning glance.
Technoblade nodded, then pointed to the woods. He stood up, suddenly I'm a defensive positions that caught Phil off guard.
"You leave Dream alone. "
Phil rose his hands in defence, faux surprise at the mere mention of the other child- Dream?- on his face.
"You got it buddy, wasn't even gonna ask." With that Phil slowly stood, spine can backing once or twice on the way up. Geez, Wil was right. He is getting old.
He didn't dare move forward, but he did put a hand out towards the kid once he was fully standing. "Ya coming?"
Technoblade stared at him a moment, before huffing and walking right past Phil.
Phil raised an eyebrow and turned, looking as the kid grabbed something from his little hut and then proceeded down the mountain without a word.
Phil ran a hand down his face, a heavy sigh on his tongue.
Wilbur's gonna have a ball teasing me about this later.
Philza needed to stop collecting strays.