Chapter Text
That afternoon was less awkward than Phil worried it would be, aside from a few miss-haps here and there. He showed Chayanne around the kitchen, which consisted mostly of showing him where pots and pans were, as well as cutlery and other things. The cabinets were made of petrified spruce wood, and the countertops were sanded diorite. Phil had constructed them himself a while ago, and although they were beginning to show signs of wear, they still functioned perfectly. Chayanne seemed eager to cook, bouncing on his heels as he explored the large pantry for the third time, but Tommy jumped in to protest.
“Phil, should we really be letting a 15-year-old cook?” He asks, disbelief hidden in the way his eyebrows raise. “You really must be gettin’ old then.”
“Har har.” Phil responds sarcastically. “Chayanne likes to cook. He’s really good at it actually! It’ll be fine, Tommy.”
“Really?” Tommy says. Phil can tell he isn’t convinced. After all, he’d never cooked when he was younger. None of them had. So, Phil turns to address Chayanne.
“Hey, Chayanne.” He calls, waiting until his son’s head pokes out from the pantry. “What were you thinking of making tonight?”
Chayanne hums in thought for a moment, tail swaying contemplatively behind him. He steps properly out of the pantry and closes the door behind him. Even though his face is mainly covered by his mask, Phil can tell his nose has scrunched up as he thinks.
“I could make a stew?” He suggests. “Or maybe a roast? I’m not sure how hungry everyone is.”
“A roast?” Tommy says. “Like the meat?”
Chayanne shrugs. “Yeah? What else would I mean?”
“I could eat either.” Phil says. “But let me ask Tallulah.”
Phil bypasses a still confused Tommy to go find Tallulah. She sits in the living room, her guitar on her lap as she plucks at the strings absentmindedly. Phil smiles when he sees her, glad that she’s settling in okay, and sits next to her.
“Hey.” He greets. “Chayanne’s cooking tonight. Did you want anything specific?”
She hums, raising her head from where she was looking at the fret of her guitar. She brushes her hair back from her eyes and turns to him.
“What was he thinking of making?” She asks.
“Roast or a stew.”
She thinks for a moment again, nose scrunching up, before she looks at him with pleading eyes again.
“Could he make tacos?” She says. “We haven’t had them in a while.”
Phil laughs. “Go ask him yourself.”
Grinning, Tallulah puts her guitar to the side and runs to the kitchen, leaning across the island to smile at her brother.
“Chayaaaaane,” she calls, “can you make tacos?”
Chayanne sighs. “We don’t have cilantro, Lullah. Or a lot of veggies I need.”
She pouts, but Phil is quick to join the conversation.
“I can give you both some shopping money and you can go buy what you need.” He says.
“We just went shopping today, Phil.” Tommy says. “Well...Tech did.”
“I don’t need a lot!” Chayanne says. “Just a few things. I can make the tortillas by hand.”
“It’s fine Tom.” Phil reassures Tommy, ruffling his hair even as he complains and swats his hand away. “We’ll do something with the other groceries tomorrow.”
“Soooooo...” Tallulah sings, practically bouncing on her heels as she turns her bright grin to Chayanne, “tacos?”
Chayanne looks over at Phil, looking almost sheepish. “If that’s okay?”
Phil nods, and the next few minutes pass rather quickly. He hands Chayanne a small bag of gold coins as his son is dragged out the door by his daughter, promising they’ll be safe and be back soon. Phil watches, amused, as the door shuts behind them. He turns back around to find Tommy watching him with an expression on his face he can’t quite read.
“What?” Phil asks.
“I don’t like tacos.” Tommy says.
“You haven’t had Chayanne’s tacos.” Phil replies with a shrug. “They’re really good! None of that fake garbage.”
Tommy’s frown intensifies. “But I don’t like tacos, Phil. It’s your first night back and you didn’t even ask what everyone wanted?”
“Trust me on this, Tommy.” Phil says with a sigh. “You’ll like it. Chayanne has never cooked something that isn’t delicious.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Tommy says, rolling his eyes. “A 15-year-old can cook sooooo well. And now I’m gonna have to pretend I like it, so I don’t seem like an asshole. Thanks a lot Phil.”
Phil shakes his head and decides to just let the topic drop.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He says. “Why don’t you tell me what you and Tech have been up to while I’ve been gone?”
~~
The town is bustling this late-afternoon, the residents paying very little attention to the steadily setting sun, bathing instead in its soft orange light. The streetlamps flicker on in places where the sunlight fails to reach, illuminating the darkening corners of the town. Tallulah leads the way down the cobbled streets, hand still firmly grasping Chayanne’s. She isn’t quite as tall as their dad yet, but she still manages to be a large enough figure to cut her way through any crowd. At the ripe age of 14, she has a stubbornness that rivals their dad’s and an aura that people instinctively feel at home within. At least, Chayanne does. She cuts through a gathering of roughly 6 people with a mutter of “excuse us”, her large wings creating enough room for Chayanne to follow. It’s strange to be smaller than her, although he has been for roughly a year and a half now.
Along with her growth spurt, she’d also bulked up considerably due to her training with their dad. Her shoulders had gotten broader, more muscular after the appearance of her wings and the following flight practice. Her arms were covered in more scars now, a mixture of newer ones from mishaps with her sword, or old ones from battles long past. This version of her, one that was growing up more and more every day, inspires an odd mixture of emotions in Chayanne’s chest. He’s proud of her, so, so unbelievably proud of his little sister, but every day that she grows more independent the hole in his heart only seems to grow larger.
Now though, she’s gripping his hand firmly in her warm one, giving it a squeeze before she lets it go.
“You were really craving tacos, huh?” Chayanne teases her, knowing instinctively that her desire for such a meal didn’t come from just her love for it.
“You know I like anything you make.” Tallulah says. “But honestly...I wanted to get out of the house a bit. It’s nice but...”
“It’s uncomfortable.” Chayanne finishes.
Tallulah nods, turning her attention from where she’d been looking around to glance at Chayanne. “I don’t know what to think of our new family just yet, but I wanted to know what you think.”
She spins around to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, imploring him to answer with kind eyes. Her hair, shoulder-length now, sways in the wind.
“Well,” Chayanne begins, reaching out to redirect her path towards the shop they were intending to go to, “Tommy doesn’t seem to think very highly of my cooking abilities, despite the fact that he’s never had any of it. And I’m still embarrassed about my first time meeting my literal hero so...”
Tallulah giggles. “So, you’re just gonna have to impress them both tonight.”
“Wow. No pressure.” Chayanne responds sarcastically as he opens the door to the shop for his sister, who steps in with a nod of thanks.
It’s rustic within the store, in a way that soothes something in both of the dragon kin. It reminds them of markets back on Quesadilla Island, when the island residents and Federation employees alike set up booths to sell fresh produce, minerals, or freshly baked goods. Chayanne had run a booth with Empanada during one of these markets. The younger dragon hybrid had a love for baking that even Chayanne struggled to rival at times, but despite this she didn’t seem very apt at cooking. They’d bonded over it anyway, and he grew to enjoy the weekends prior where they’d get together for hours a day and do nothing but cook and bake for the market on the upcoming Monday. He misses it, but at least their new home had a big kitchen. One that was all for him if he so desired.
For now though, he inspects the freshly picked tomatoes as Tallulah splits from him to go spice searching. To neither of their shock, their dad’s house had been woefully lacking.
~~
Technoblade had known Phil for years. Years and years. He knew the avian better than he knew himself in some cases, but despite everything Phil always found new ways to surprise him. It started with his blatant encouragement of Techno taking over the world back in the days of the Antarctic Empire, and the most recent time was him waltzing back into his home after a four-year absence, dragging two teenagers along with him. Teenagers who shared more DNA with that of dragons than the avian they called their father. However, Techno wasn’t one to judge. Phil and his kids had been the closest he had to a family for a long time. He was still curious though, or perhaps it was in his nature to be a bit wary of those who were new in his home. He trusted Phil’s judgement at least, and the dragon kin seemed harmless.
He’s presently enjoying the cool evening air. He’d been listening in on Tommy and Phil bickering, the sound of which had barely drowned out the sound of the front door opening and closing, but now it was pleasantly silent. Well, aside from a snide comment or two from the Voices.
Kin. New kin.
Protect.
Technochill.
Meditating had helped with their rowdiness somewhat, and so he made an effort to do so every night for a few hours, be it rain or shine. He didn’t alter his pattern once, feeling as if he’d lose all his progress if he did.
The sliding door that leads out into the backyard where Technoblade sits creaks open, and he can tell without looking that Phil has come to join him. With a rustle of feathers, the oldest avian in the house settles down next to him with a deep sigh.
“You doing alright, Techno?” Phil asks him, peering at him with tired eyes.
Blood greets the sky as Techno meets his gaze. “Meh. I’ve been alright. It’s been tiring lately.”
“I get it.” Phil nods. “It’s been a...long four years.”
Interest piqued, Technoblade leans back on his hands. “What was that about anyway? It’s been quite a while since you’ve shown up with strays.”
Phil chuckles. “It’s a long story...I thought I’d be coming home after a few months honestly.”
“So, what happened?”
“I wasn’t allowed to leave.” Phil says with a shrug, wings twitching behind them. “The...let's just say the government who ran the island wouldn’t let any of the new inhabitants leave, no matter what. After a while my concerns became more about the kids than getting home.”
“You just...found kids on this island?” Technoblade asks. “Random dragon hybrid kids?”
“Well, yeah, kind of.” Phil replies. “I think the Federation was testing us, trying to see how much we were willing to sacrifice to keep a kid alive in such a dangerous fucking place.”
Anyone else would not be able to see the way Phil’s eyes glassed over, how they lost a familiar gleam, how his back tensed all the way across his shoulders. But Technoblade knew Phil like the back of his hand, and the thought that his best friend had been through a hellscape whilst trying to keep two children alive on his own had anger curling in his chest.
Blood for the Blood God!
Blood for the Blood God.
Blood for the Blood God.
Blood-
Techno shakes his head to recenter himself.
“There were others there to help though?” He asks. “It wasn’t just you alone on an island?”
Phil nods. “Yeah, there were quite a lot of us. I became good friends with a lot of them.”
That was reassuring at least.
Evidently tiring of the topic of conversation, or not wanting to dwell on it, Phil changes the topic with a smooth chuckle.
“I told Chayanne and Tallulah a lot about you.” Phil tells Techno, who looks over at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh yeah?” Techno enquires with a chuckle. “So I heard. What tales about me did you regale to your kids?”
“Quite a few.” Phil says, grinning. “Chayanne was especially fond of the stories of your potato war. I even helped him make a massive potato farm so he could be like you.”
It’s...weirdly flattering for something as simple as his potato war to be such an inspiration to a young kid. Tommy was very similar, but Tommy had been obsessed with the tales of Techno’s battles, his bloody and brutal fights, and while the potato war had been amusing to him, he had never taken such inspiration out of it.
“I see a lot of you in him actually.” Phil continues, his face softening into a fonder expression. “Now more so than ever. He used to be such a wild kid, so eager to throw himself into danger just to prove that he was all big and strong. To prove that he could protect the people he loves, just like you did.” Phil pauses to sigh, leaning back on his hands like Techno. “But he’s become a kid who has seen too much. Too much bloodshed, too much violence, too much responsibility. He’s had to grow up so fast that now he seems so...so tired when compared to that bundle of energy he used to be.”
“War makes monsters of us all.” Technoblade replies solemnly.
“That it does.” Phil nods. “He’s less of a fighter now, but he’s gotten into cooking and he’s pretty fucking good at it. I’m sure he’d still love the chance to train with you. Both him and Tallulah.”
“Is that where those two have run off to?”
“Not to train. Chayanne needed some ingredients for dinner.”
“He’s cooking tonight?” Technoblade asks, brushing some strands of his hair out of his face. “What’s on the menu?”
“Tacos, at Tallulah’s request.” Phil says with a smile.
“I’ll give them a try then.” Techno says, getting to his feet and extending a hand for Phil to take. He pulls the avian to his feet and Phil pats him on the shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re more open minded about it than Tommy.”
“I am about most things, Phil.” Techno laughs. “So long as they don’t try and feed me pork.”
“That won’t be an issue Tech, don’t worry.”
~~
Chayanne and Tallulah return home pretty quickly, in a flurry of chatter and giggles, whispering to each other something about a person they had passed in town. Chayanne, arms loaded down with a single brown bag of ingredients, leans over to his sister to whisper something that sends her into a fit of giggles. She slaps his arm as he hurries to the kitchen. Phil watches it all, too amused to question them.
It’s always impressive to watch Chayanne work in a kitchen. The way his focus narrows and he seems to tune out the rest of the world around him in favour of dedicating all of his attention to his task. Tallulah offers a helping hand where she can, and Chayanne sets her on mixing up the tortilla dough so he can chop the meat and vegetables. Phil watches them alone for a while before Techno joins him, and even under the eyes of his hero, Chayanne’s hands don’t falter.
Technoblade is no chef, but he can recognize dedication and skill when he looks at it.
“You cook a lot, huh kid?” He asks Chayanne, not quite wanting to distract him.
Chayanne doesn’t look up from where he’s mincing onions, but nods. “I do. Almost every day.”
Phil watches Chayanne combine the onions with the beans and beef currently cooking on the stove. He covers it soon after, leaving it all to cook down until the contents are melt-in-your-mouth soft. Tallulah deposits a bowl of dough next to Chayanne soon after before she turns away to wash the flour and dough off her hands.
“Chayanne cooks a lot.” Phil says, taking whatever chance he gets to praise his son’s skills. “He catered for an entire wedding on Quesadilla Island once.”
Techno gives Phil a look. “It was like...a small wedding, right?”
“20 people.” Chayanne pipes up, his attention now turned to dicing tomatoes and cilantro.
“20?” Techno asks. “All by yourself?”
“I made a 3-tier cake too.”
Technoblade blinks. “...Well damn. Colour me impressed, kid.”
Phil watches, amused, as a wash of pink spreads to the tips of Chayanne’s ears, his cheeks hidden behind his mask. The dragon kin clears his throat.
“Thank you...” Chayanne mumbles, sparing a moment to swat at his sister as she walks by, giggling at him.
Dinner is made smoothly and relatively quickly, and Phil helps to set out plates on the dinner table, both empty ones and ones loaded with vegetables, steaming tortillas, and beef so tender it flakes off the bones. A spicy sauce that Chayanne had whipped together by hand at the last-minute sits in a bowl amidst it all, alongside a milder guacamole. Phil calls to Tommy to come for dinner, and then they’re all settling down around the table, Tallulah and Chayanne on one side facing Techno and Tommy, whilst Phil sits at the head of the table. Tallulah wastes little time piling her plate high, biting into the overflowing tortillas and almost burning her mouth as a result. Phil and Techno follow after, though considerably less impatiently, and Chayanne waits until Tommy begrudgingly takes his own portion before grabbing food himself.
Despite how vehement Tommy had been about his dislike for tacos, he had to admit that Chayanne’s tasted nothing like the ones his dad used to make and were infinitely better.
They’re halfway through dinner when the topic of Wilbur gets brought up.
They’re halfway through dinner when Tommy wonders aloud where he’s “fucked off to”.
They’re halfway through dinner when Tallulah goes still and silent, looking down at her plate as Tommy and Techno discuss the missing musician and Phil tries in vain to change the topic, for her sake.
They’re halfway through dinner when Tallulah gets tired of hearing his name and excuses herself for the evening, leaving the table quietly as she retreats to her room.
They’re halfway through dinner when the table falls silent as she leaves and takes Chayanne’s own appetite with her.
Chayanne hates more than anything how even when Wilbur isn’t here, he still manages to make Tallulah sad.
Chayanne takes a breath and wanders into the kitchen to clean the dishes as the remaining 3 continue their meal in silence.