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Wilbur’s Prologue
Technoblade and Wilbur were brothers and very close as kids. They used to tell each other everything, make fun of Tommy together and would never be willingly apart. As inseparable as they were growing up, the moment Wilbur moved out that changed. They cut any and all contact.
When Wilbur moved out Techno was barely 14 and Wilbur was newly 17. He said he wanted to get into the world and experience it. He said he would come back to visit Phil, Tommy and Techno regularly but that was a clear and blatant lie. After Wilbur moved out, he didn’t come and visit. He sent a few letters to Phil and regularly sent them to Tommy but not to Techno. He sent letter to everyone at first, but Techno never wrote back.
It had now been about 8 years since Wilbur moved out and 8 years since he had had and word from or about Technoblade. Wilbur was almost convinced he was dead or moved too far to get his letters, that was, until he got a letter from techno.
Wilbur had tried to once again get into contact with his brother, something he used to do every year, for the first couple of years. He hadn’t tried to contact Technoblade in many years, so when his letter wasn’t left like Schrodinger’s cat, it came as a pleasant shock to the government official.
The letters he sent were always following similar lines. He would ask how techno was and give a little update on his life and ask if he wanted to catch up. Techno’s response was brief to how he was, but he did respond in detail for wanting to meet up. Technoblade gave cords to his house, Wilbur assumed it was his house, and a time and date for him to come over. There were descriptions of landmarks to find his house and the best ways to get there; Wilbur’s amazing navigating skills were relieved at that.
The sudden initiative for meeting up didn’t change the fact that it had been 8 years since they had talked, and that he knew little to nothing about the other’s life. Since Techno replied to his letter, he could only assume he received the ones he sent in the first few years. Wilbur had told him about things in his life, but he was going in darkness, having only a measly sentence version of 'I'm good' to know what his brother had been up to these past 8 years. None the less, Wilbur brushed off any anxiety about seeing his brother for the first time since he was a kid and prepared for the journey.
Technoblade’s Prologue
After the first week since Wilbur moved out, the voices quickly started whispering how his brother had finally been able to ditch him and the rest of the family for good. Techno refused to believe the voices as he firmly believed his brother would be visiting often and sending him a letter very soon. No letter arrived.
After the second week he finished moving all his older brother’s stuff into boxes in the attic. No letter arrived.
After the fourth week he stopped checking for letters each day, instead only every few days. No letter arrived.
After two months he started training a bit harder to keep the voices at bay and to settle his anxieties, still holding hope for his brother sending a letter soon. No letter arrived.
After three month Techno gave in to the voices and gave up on his brother visiting or sending him a letter. He started training more to keep the voices bloodlust at bay and studying battle tactics out of interest. No letter arrived.
After four months he was now frequently participating in an arena a town or so over. He was still 14 and technically too young to be participating but that didn’t stop him and was unstoppable in the arena.
Four months after his older brother left, the letter came. It took four months for his brother to bother, it took four months for techno to give up on Wilbur. His younger brother and father were overjoyed at their letters, writing their responses at once, Techno just let the letter sit in the box under his bed that held pictures of before he left. He didn't even want to know what was in that letter, the voices whispering in his ears.
Techno left at 17 to fight in tournaments wishing Tommy and Phil the best. He made no promises to visit or to write as his brother did when he left, he wouldn’t make the mistake of giving the false hope. He left saying that all they needed to do was write and he would be there.
After he left for good, we became a legend, he became the blood god. People were always after him, trying to kill him. There’s no rest once you have reached the top because everyone wishes to kill the king. Eventually he started to dress like a monarch to mock his kingship on the battlefield.
Governments came after him trying to secure him as their weapon or to kill him because they saw him as a threat. It didn’t really matter, none of them succeeded.
He always did read the letters Wilbur sent him, telling him of his life and later l’manberg. It had been 8 years since Wilbur left, he was now 22. When Wilbur’s letter came asking if he wanted to meet up, he decided to finally reply. It had been 8 years and about 3 since his brother last wrote to him. This may have very well been the last letter he would’ve got if he didn’t reply. Techno no longer resented Wilbur, he hadn’t after the first 6 months, but he didn’t know what to say and when Wilbur stopped writing he thought he had lost his last chance to make amends. What could hurt about catching up with his brother after all these years. After all this may be his final chance.
The brothers had communicated a little bit more to confirm a few of the specific of their long overdue catchup. Wilbur could now confidently say he was going to Techno’s house.
Wilbur had a hard time finding Techno’s house regardless of all the detailed instructions and landmarks that where in the letters. As a kid Techno always hated the cold, this was a fact not up to discussion. Wilbur’s brother was part piglin and from the nether, so this made perfect sense. What didn’t make sense to Wilbur was the cords taking him into a tundra biome. Remembering his brother’s hatred of the cold, filled his mind with doubt but none the less he tried following the given directions.
He couldn’t understand his brothers need to live in the middle of nowhere. His brother, unlike him, has never liked being around people very much.
Eventually he found the house and someone waiting for him outside by the door. It took Wilbur a solid moment to register the man as his brother.
Last time he saw Techno, he was about 14. His hair was bright pink and struggling to go into a ponytail. He was scrawny and a lot shorter than Wil. His clothes were always a mess for he saw little to no reason to waste time on things like polishing shoes or ironing shirts since “they would not last in its pristine state if you plan on doing anything.” He was bothered enough to dress to a high standard, just not to maintain its standard. His tusks were still growing in, only just bigger than his other teeth and his eyes were a blood red with an ever-critical expression.
The man before him had very few of those physical qualities.
The man before him appeared to be about 21 or 22. His hair was the same pink of his brothers but was in in a long pink braid down to his waist. He looked lean and fit from what you could tell under the many layers of clothing. He was definitely shorter than Wilbur, that isn’t very hard to be. By estimate he stood at about 5’10”, while Wil sat around 6’5”. He wore a crisply ironed white button up shirt, black dress pants, a red waist sash and combat boots. There was a big red cape flowing behind him with a fur trim on top. There were many little gold embellishments. His young brother used to mock people for having to many little thought-out embellishments in their attire. There was gold not just on his clothes but also in the form of many little piercings. There were many bits of gold on each ear and places where it looks to have been ripped from his ear, leaving missing chunks. He had a septum, snakebites, and an eyebrow piercing. It all made him look intimidating.
But, by far, the most jarring thing about the man were the tusks piercing through scarred holes in his cheeks. The skin wasn’t red in anyway, showing the holes would have been there for a long time and the gaps around the tusks indicated that more of the tusks could go through the holes.
Wilbur met the man’s piercing red eyes. The eyes were analysing him as well. Wilbur didn’t think he looked that different, except for the numerous scars now adorning his being. The mans gaze was critical, reminding him of Technoblade but he had many doubts about the man. There were so many things so different from when he last saw Techno that he couldn’t be sure this was even his Technoblade.
Neither of them said a word as they took in the others appearance but luckily the man in the doorway broke the silence.
His brothers famous “Hello” left the man, banishing any doubt of the man being Technoblade.
This brought a smile to Wilbur’s face, relaxing the tension in the atmosphere.
He pulled Techno into a hug without any warning. Techno sightly flinched at the sudden gesture and contact. It had been a long time since anyone touched him in a non-violent way, after it being so long, having a hug was nice.
Seeing Techno flinch at the hug worried Wilbur but feeling his brother’s ribs worried him a hell of a lot more.
Once the embrace ended, Techno invited Wilbur inside, getting out of the cold air and so that they could begin to catch up after all these years.
Upon going inside Techno disposed of his cape as its warmth was no longer required. Taking off the cape his frame quickly downgraded from intimidating to sticking out bones being plausible. The cape made him look so much bigger as you would expect, but it was deceivingly so.
Technoblade Took Wilbur into the kitchen to that he could make to hot beverages for them and catch up with a Wilbur less of the verge of hypothermia.
Wilbur told Techno about his many adventures, good and bad.
Techno shared nothing.
Wilbur shared some of the dumb things he did and the funny moment that came out of it.
Techno shared nothing.
Wilbur shared about Sally and his son.
Techno shared nothing.
Wilbur was more than willing to share his life with his brother and tell him about all he has been through after all these years. He wasn’t telling the traumatic side of all the stories, but at least he was telling his brother something about his life. All Techno granted Wilbur with was stories about farming potatoes.
Techno had obviously not been through some of the stuff Wilbur had so maybe he just thought that all the stories Wilbur shared were ones he would love to live again. Maybe he doesn’t understand how many scars some of the experiences left because why else would he say those snarky and sarcastic comments on his traumatic events.
Wilbur told Techno all about the L’manberg, how he started it with Tommy, the war for independence and even sang the fucking national anthem.
Techno shared fucking nothing.
Techno was very closed off and unwilling to share many details about his life. He just told stories about his time as a potato farmer, nothing about the scars covering every visible patch of skin. The amount of scarred skin was very minimal but that could be chalked more up to it being cold so Wilbur wouldn’t assume his brother was trying to hide. But his brother seems to purposefully shut down stories as soon as he could especially every time he tried to ask about the scars on his face and hands. As much as Wilbur wanted to make sure Techno was okay, eating and sleeping enough, he knew it was better not to pry forcefully on topics like that. The painful bags under his eyes didn’t fill Wilbur with most confidence and he was pretty sure he would have remembered the brother he shared a room with, having insomnia. His brother was always thin so maybe there wasn’t anything going on there. Plus, he didn’t look sickly, he looked like he could throw a decent punch without falling over.
When Wilbur asked about the tusks in attempt of a conversation regarding when they came through or if he always knew it would go through his cheeks. All that was said in response was
“Yeah, it hurt.”
The brothers had very little in common anymore, as far as Wilbur knew from Techno’s limited responses. What was clear was that the topic of politics and governments was particularly sour one for Techno. The foul opinion on politics was of unknown origin to Wilbur because that was another question answered with a very brief
“Governments are corrupt” and no further explanation.
With each story Wilbur shared and each failed attempt of learning about his brother’s life, Wilbur grew more and more angry. Every three-word story for a scar. Every shut story of a trophy on his wall. Every sarcastic and condescending comment on bad experiences in Wilbur’s stories, made him more want to strangle Techno where he stood, leaned against the kitchen counter. Okay maybe not strangle because Wilbur still cared for his brother, at least push him over.
Every shut down story made the anger come closer to boiling over.
Wilbur wanted to scream at Techno for refusing to share anything about his life that was over the level of telling someone you just met. He wanted to bash Techno to the floor for his lack of sympathy to Wilbur’s trauma. Luckily, he still had enough self-control to sustain conversation and not lash out.
The mostly one-sided conversation of life stories continued for a while longer in undisturbed peace. That was until Wil asked the question he had been wanting to ask for years.
“Did you not get my other letters or why didn’t you respond to them?”
“I got the letters” four words and nothing more. No explanation on why. He just admits that he got the letters and chose to just ignore Wilbur for all these years.
The response pushed him to breaking point.
Wil held the kitchen bench he lent on so hard his knuckles turned white. He was trying so hard to not lash out; he didn’t even notice, Techno, push off from where he was leaning on the bench and come closer to Wilbur.
What sent him over the edge was, Techno, looking him dead in the eyes, saying.
“You okay Wil? Whatever it is, you can talk to me about anything.”
He had the Fucking audacity to say ‘he could talk to him about anything’ after, Techno, had refused to talk to Wilbur about jack shit. He couldn’t help himself from screaming at his brother.
“I can talk to you about anything?!” “I can talk to you about anything?!” Wilbur repeated and screamed at Techno, pushing off the bench to face him before continuing.
“You have told me, shit, about your life and have the fucking audacity, to say I can talk to you about anything.” Wilbur punctuated his anger by shoving Technoblade back slightly. He the continued his vent, lightly shoving his brother back, as punctuation.
“I have been completely open to you about my life since I left, but you refuse to tell me anything. Not a word about the house after I left. Not a word about when or why you moved. Not a word about why you live in the fucking tundra when you hate the cold!” Wilbur’s shouts and pushes halted for a moment as he wiped the tears cascading down his cheeks and a few needed intakes of air.
Techno’s back was now nearly against some shelves after Wilbur’s many shoves. He said nothing, knowing full well that nothing he could say would calm his brother. Even if he could say something, why would he, his brother was shouting at him as if he had no idea what the world was like. Wilbur was acting as if the shit he was sharing were deep dark stories that required the utmost sympathy.
Techno wasn’t very open to sharing the horror that he had committed and horrors that had been committed against him. Telling his older brother, he hears voices demanding blood wasn’t something you would do seeing them for the first time in close to a decade. Especially after he basically ghosted his brother for nearly a decade out of a lacking ability to correctly respond.
Techno wanted to be close to his brother, he really did but he never knew how to respond to his brother’s letter. He wanted to share his life with Wilbur but too much blood stains his name. He wanted to be able to sympathise for Wilbur, but the world had other plans. He never wanted to give into the voices but after Wilbur left, they got too loud, and he had no choice to take the path of blood. Techno wanted to comfort his older brother, but he knew the damage was already done to their relationship. Technoblade wanted to be sorry for what his brother had experienced but at this stage he was far too desensitised.
Techno looked up to his brothers’ eyes, expecting to find them full of tears in need of comfort, not expecting to find a cold, angry glare into his own. Wilbur’s breathing had evened out a lot and his voice was once again level as he began to flatly speak again, eyes locked with the younger.
“I shared my trauma, but you couldn’t give enough of a fuck to even fake some empathy.” The voice was steady and cold, almost calculated. “I have realised, you most likely have no idea about some of the experiences I’ve had. You probably have no idea how being truly hurt or betrayed feels.” Wilbur took another few breaths of air, eyes still locked. The eyes that met Wilbur were now void of emotion, as if he was humouring him by listening to the vent. Wilbur’s eyes filled with blazing rage as he shouted once more, giving the younger a final shove, one more violent than the others.
“YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT I HAVE BEEN THROUGH YET ACT AS IF MY PAIN ISN’T DESERVING OF YOUR FUCKING SYMPATHY!”
As Techno was sent crashing into his potion shelf, the sound of smashing glass filled Wilbur’s mind. The sound of breaking glass upon contact, snapped Wilbur from his rage. The world was in slow motion as he watched his younger brother crash into the shelf from his push and collapse to the ground. The sound of glass was deafening before exchanging for the sound of drops of liquid and his younger brothers pained breaths. If watching his brother collapse to the floor or the sound wasn’t enough to snap his out of his rage, the potion partials emitting from Techno’s back and blood staining the white shirt would be.
One of the potions dissolved part of techno’s shirt, revealing shards of glass impaling him and a small canvas, painted full of scars.
Techno made no exclamations of pain or shock as he fell nor did his eyes fill with tears as blood ran down his back, dipping a puddle on his floor and dyeing his shirt crimson. All that Wilbur could observe as he froze was Techno’s breaths now slightly heavier. If he could not see the blood soaking the shirt, puddling on the ground below, he would doubt that he was hurt in the first place.
His brothers, lack of response and collage of scars was swiftly tossed to the back of his mind as he entered panic mode. Wilbur rapidly apologised before rushing to find the bathroom in search of medical supplies. He was able to a whole plethora of medical supplies. The supplies could be used to perform surgery if needed. most of the boxes of supplies seemed to have had some use, worrying him further. The nearly finished roll of medical stitching thread and half empty disinfectant bottle was concerning considering he just badly injured his brother after screaming that he knew nothing of experiencing pain.
He couldn’t allow himself to contemplate that all now, his brother was hurt and needed him. He grabbed some basic supplies like bandages and tweezers before racing back to his brother.
He expected Techno to still be curled up on the floor with a holy crimson shirt, but once again was surprised by his sibling. Techno was not curled up in pain, nor was he on the floor. Where Techno used to be was just his now discarded red button up.
Techno was calmly stood by an axe mounted on the wall, looking into the blade's reflection to remove shard of glass carefully and calmly as if he had done it a thousand times before. The Pink haired man, however calm in demeanour, swayed unstably, leaning a free hand on the wall to prevent falling over. The swaying indicated that one of the potions was nausea and the flaring of skin every few seconds indicated another potion was poison. Wilbur had no idea how many harmful effects were currently acting upon his younger brother.
In complete disregard of the numerous potion effects, the man pulled bloody shard, after shard.
Wilbur couldn’t see his face from where he stood so couldn’t tell for indications of pain or distress. All Wilbur could see was Techno’s back and arm; both previously covered by the crimson shirt.
His back and arms were covered in scars. Some looked small due to the fatal size of others. The worst scars Wilbur had could barely compete with Techno’s smallest. He had never seen anything like it before and never wanted to see something like it again. He regrets saying Techno had no idea what he had been through, Wilbur had no idea what Techno had been through. His younger brother’s volume of fatal looking scars, or lack of untouched skin, and current calm demeanour, made Wilbur understand why he wasn’t keen on sharing.
His brother clearly had the well-trained body of a fighter, yet his bones were sticking out everywhere. He may have muscle, but he looked severely underweight. There was every imaginable type of scar of his back, even what Wilbur could only assume to be from getting branded. He knew so little, and it scared him.
The many swarming questions had to be pushed way as Wilbur ran to his side to help.
As Wilbur touched Techno to help keep him stable of his feet, he did something Wil wouldn’t expect from the quiet, reserved Technoblade; he snapped.
He upon Wilbur’s contact, toppled him with a forceful push, much stronger than he expected. Wilbur would’ve never expected this from the Techno he grew up with, but clearly, that Techno was long gone. Wilbur didn’t know what to expect anymore. Wilbur stood up once he stopped sliding across the floor, whispering a small “I’m so sorry”.
“You don’t get to feel sorry for me. This is all your fault in the first place.” Techno spoke in a minutely aggravated form of his usual monotone voice. He still managed to sound cold and composed as he had to lean on a wall to prevent collapsing and blood dripped from his back to the floor. He was slowly regaining his bearings from the slowly fading effects of the potions. As the brothers locked eyes, Wil could see the small winces of pain. There wasn’t a trace of rage or emotion that could be deciphered from his cold, red eyes.
“A lot has changed since we were kids, Wilbur. You have no idea who I’ve been forced to be.” Techno sounded calm and collected among the sound of dripping blood. He sounded at peace with the pain as if he deserved to feel it alone; that hurt Wil the most.
“Please let me help fix my mistakes and patch you up.” Wil pleaded, still trying to help the brother he injured.
Techno just sighed before speaking a final time, void of all emotion.
“I will live without your help, just leave before you damage things more that you already have.”
He didn’t wait for Wilbur to respond, he just turned around and left Wilbur alone in the room. Wilbur knew full well that the moment he stepped through the front door again, it would mark the first and last time saw his brother for a long time. He didn’t want to leave because that would solidify the fact, he wouldn’t be able to see his brother for many more years. He just got Techno back, but he ruined it.
With tears rolling down his cheeks, he left the brother he hurt in the hope of meeting again.
Even if they did meet again, Wilbur hurt his own family. Even if Techno forgave him, he could never forgive himself. Even if his brother cared, that no longer held worth. Wilbur fucked up.
Wilbur left his hope of being a family again being part of a family again, behind him. He left it in the far forsaken tundra where he spilled his family’s blood.