Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Alien’s were oblivious things.

When Techno was forced into learning about the basics of space in grade six, he knew he’d never want to go into a field around it. Space was vast, empty, unexplored and unexplainable. Stars were literal balls of fire and gas. It really wasn’t that interesting. Space was something he only researched for a passing grade, nothing more, nothing less. He was more interested in mythology and literature. His nose was always down into books of poems of Greek stories.

Now though, he wished he had paid more attention. Or gone to college for space exploration. Hell, even reading up on those crazy articles about alien wheat circles. But it wasn’t like he thought he was going to be the first human in a whole other galaxy. He was though and now he had to deal with it. He’s seen a lot of crazy crap since he’s been abducted and later escaped from aliens. But none of it mattered now, because it was hard to fear something that later treated you like you meant something.

Scoring a job with the Astral All Hands Company was scarily easy. After stealing a communion device, clothes to hide himself and threatening low life alien criminals into making him fake ID’s Techno was all set. No one asked twice about the fake planet that was listed on his ID or why they haven’t heard of it. Not after Techno explained that it was a small planet not many of his kind left. To them he was a simple alien with baggy and concealing clothing.

With all this in mind, Techno concludes that aliens are oblivious. It has to be in their nature to write things off because there’s so many species around, coming and going. No one would think twice about him being a human and he gave them no reasons to start. The SBI crew was like everyone else in that regard. The second he stepped foot on their ship they acted as if he was always there. Like he was something dancing in the background having finally come to life.

Captain Philza, or more commonly addressed as Phil, was the quickest to act normal around him. Maybe it was part of his job to be a good presence towards him. But he always found it weird how dad-like that man was. His wings always moved towards the crew's backs if he was sitting or standing next to you, as if he wanted to drape you in them. He also asked a lot of questions pertaining to his health. Like what can you eat, what’s poisonous, how many hours do you need to sleep per rotation.

Techno lied and excused his way out of some of them, not wanting to give himself away. It was always a close call with slip ups when it came to the older man. The company Astral All Hands had said offhandedly that his alien captain was something called an Elytrian. Techno had no clue what that meant, but he kept the fact in mind. Phil was an Elytrian.

Wilbur, the tallest crew member of the crew, was the second person to stop acting hesitant towards him. In the beginning he was cordial at best, shady at worst. For someone whose emotions were literally splattered onto their almost transparent and glittery skin, the guy could keep to himself. But when he warmed up to Techno he was like a whole other person. He called himself the older twin after finding out Techno and his birthday was on the same day. Even if the other was two years older.

He was the one that got Phil acting like a dad circulating in his head. He pushed for a family dynamic, one that he brushed off everytime. Techno couldn’t lie though, at times Wilbur acted like the protective older brother he never had. He remembers one night where he couldn’t fall asleep, horrible memories basking in the forefront of his brain. He had decided to walk the halls to get his energy out. Wilbur found him an hour later, soothing words and hesitant questions on his tongue.

It took only thirty minutes of talking with Wilbur before the older took him back to his room. He never entered, but he stayed at the door until Techno climbed into his bed. The other had closed the door and left after that, if the shadows underneath his door was anything to think of. Wilbur reminded him of a ghost, with his pale appearance. But unlike a ghost the other had a tail and his skin could change colours depending on his mood. It was kinda funny when Techno found out his species and it translated to Phantom.

The last of his crew was Tommy, a spider cat looking nuisance that took the longest to get used to him. The kid was actively annoyed and angry with his presence. He purposely got in his way, bad mouthed him like an Earth sailer and sent him death glares. Techno had hated the kid, but after overhearing Wilbur chastising him one night and Tommy explaining the real reason for his behaviour, Techno couldn’t find it in him to hate. Turns out they had had another crew member in the past that cloaked himself like Techno did. A Dreamon who had bonded with all of them.

He had left to carry on his studies after three years with them. Tommy didn’t want to get attached again, didn’t want to let Techno in. And that was fine, because he’ll be gone sooner than the Dreamon had ever thought to stay. He couldn’t help but not raise to the bait, to snap back at the kid. He doesn’t know when, but Tommy started to soften. The nuisance turned into a hyper young adult with a bad mouth with no malice. The other started to have genuine conversations with him, joined Wilbur in being a family dynamic truther.

Techno started to stop shutting the thought down. He never encouraged it, never believed it, but he let the two have fun. It wasn’t hurting anyone. And if in the middle of the night he thought a little less about Earth and more about space, then only him and his journal knew.

~~~

Philza

~~~

Even in space, thousands of light-years away from Earth, Techno was forced to do chores by a father figure.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I thought I could do this by myself, but I really need this done by the end of the day and you're the strongest out of the others.” Phil says as he guides him down the ship's many hallways. Phil sounded at least a little bit sorry for dragging him away from his work, his feathers puffing up in every direction. The galaxy coloured eyes on his pitch black forearms were staring at him, narrowed and glossy.

Techno had to remind himself that Phil wasn’t actually looking at him, at least not at the moment. The many eyes littering the form of the eldritch terrier of an alien were glossy, foggy, meaning they weren’t actually being used. It didn’t stop him from pulling the scarf around his face higher up, making sure to cover any exposed skin he could. “The strongest huh?” He grins. “Resorting to flattery captain?”

Phil stops in his tracks, his head snapping back to stare at him. Techno suppresses a flinch. He was like a creature from a horror movie and an owl made an alien child. That child would be Phil. “If it makes you less likely to bail on me, then yes. I’m resorting to flattery.” Phil tilts his head, his beak-like mouth chittering. A smile forms on his exposed bicep, right under one of his many eyes. Sharp white teeth poke out, creating a cheesier like grin. The eye above it loses its glossiness, its pupil sparkling like purple and blue diamonds.

“What am I being flattered to do anyway?” He asks. Phil’s head whirls back to the front of him, the eye on his bicep going back to being blurry and glossy.

“Just a little sorting.” He replies, beginning walking again. Techno hurries after him. “But I need the room fixed up and todays the only day I don’t have to do anything all week, but man the ship. Which I can do from anywhere.” Phil explains. He hums as they turn the corner. Phil stops as he presses his clawed hand against a sensor, the wall next to his opening up a second later. “Here’s the room I needed help with.” Phil walks in first, Techno coming in right behind him.

A little sorting was said lightly. The second he walked into the room it was like he came across a hoarder house. Well not really. Because a hoarder house would at least have minimal organisation. This room looked like a mess. Like someone had just started throwing random boxes and equipment in here. “I think you're going to need more than flattery to get me to clean this up.” He drawls, eyes racking over the blurry large room. Despite his words he was already thinking up an organisation plan.

Phil turns towards him, a full body turn. Not the horrifying owl head snap he sometimes does. “What if I make Tommy do your turn of the dishes this week?” Phil asks.

Techno thinks about it for all of two seconds. “Deal.” Phil chirps happily as he starts moving things around. Using his feat talons to make his work double as fast . Techno took a deep breath as he ventured further into the room. He picks up a box, checks what’s inside and starts sorting the small stuff. He does this over and over again and soon enough he starts to be able to see the immediate area’s floor.

Techno spends it chatting with Phil. The older man had many stories he loved to listen to, but would never admit he finds them interesting. This time around Phil was stringing a story about the time he escaped a bunch of animal traffickers looking to sell some of his feathers. He doesn’t bother questioning how Phil found himself faced with animal traffickers, just like how he never asks about the extra portions to his room every night.

An hour goes by with their chatter. Or maybe two, he’s not sure as the room doesn’t have a clock. By the time Phil’s stories start to sound more exaggerated, Techno’s half done his side of the room. Sweat beads down his forehead from all the heavy lifting combined with the many layers he put himself in. He rubs his forehead, taking a deep breath in. Techno looks over the pile in front of him and gets up, walking over to a particular stuffed box. He opens the top, peering inside.

He freezes the moment he sees what’s in the box. Laying on top of the box was an angsty teenager hoodie. The words Don’t Hug Me printed in big white blocky letters. It was dirty and had holes in it. He stared, mouth dropping open as he reached into the box. He let his gloved hands run over the letters. It was the same hoodie he was kidnapped in. He pushed it out of the way, looking at what else was in the box. It was everything he thought he had misplaced when he signed up to be part of the SBI crew.

He had spent days looking for this box of his belongings from Earth. The last pieces of a home lost. Was it really here the whole time? Had he had all this stuff in this ship with him just a few halls down? “What’s in there?” Phil asks, looking over from where he’s placing some equipment onto shelves.

Techno snaps his head up, eyes growing wide as he looks between the box and his captain. “Nothing!” He squeak’s, grabbing the box. He stands up quickly, jostling his stuff as he takes a step towards the door. “J-just some of my clothes.” Another step. “They must have gotten misplaced. I’ll just go put them in my room real quick and come back.” Phil chirps, a confused sound that causes him to turn and quicken his steps.

“I can take them to your room later, you don’t have to. I’m heading over to the bedrooms anyways to make sure Tommy didn’t steal any of the chemicals again-“ Phil’s cut off when Techno’s foot hits something left on the ground. He lets out a hiss of pain as he goes stumbling forward. The box hits the ground along with him, Techno going sprawling over the floor. He hears a panicked shriek, footsteps running over. He groans in pain, his toe throbbing as he looks up from the floor. He feels hands on him and he’s suddenly being lifted up into a sitting position.

Phil’s in front of him, his wings flaring out to encircle them both as his hands flit around him. Hovering over his body like he wanted to reach out. “Are you okay?” Phil asks, the eyes on his arms all losing their glossiness. It was easier to see Phil’s face up close, so it wasn’t hard to see the frown on his face.

“It's fine, Phil.” He sighs, rubbing his foot. “I just tripped, I’m fine.” The Elytrian looks down at his foot, then back up to him.

“Are you sure?” He pushes, hands falling to his sides.

“I’m sure.” Techno nods, pushing himself up into standing. Phil’s wings retract, another chirp falling from his lips. He bends down, quickly grabbing the spilled items and shoving them into the box. After all the clothes were put back into the box he stand, turning to head out and quickly put all this stuff in his room.

“Techno?” He stops, head turning to the side. Phil holds up a small blurry object. It was his black rimmed, square shaped glasses. He blinked, half expecting them to change into something else. “What are these things?” The question drives an invisible stake through his heart. He had found out pretty early on that glasses weren’t a universal concept. Along with communication devices, a form of contact was widely spread in space. Wilbur himself had told him that he wears alien contacts.

For some reason glasses are a human concept. Thought as primitive. Techno had been able to keep them by hiding them under his shirt or the waistband of his pants. It wasn’t a surprise that Phil didn’t know what they were. “…Glasses.” He replies. Seconds pass by in silence. Then he realises what he had just said and drops the box back onto the floor. It bangs, the sound startling the captain. Phil puffs up as he lowers the hand with the glasses in them.

Crap, crap, crap. Did he really just do that? Why couldn’t he just lie!? He’s good at lying! “Wait, that’s not what I meant-“

“You have bad eyes?” Phil’s eyes narrow, a soft coo coming from his beak. His fingers soften around the glasses, his other hand moving to cup them in a more secure hold. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I don’t have bad eyes.” He shakes his head, like he hadn’t just said they were his glasses. “There not… glasses.”

Phil looks up at him, his shoulders slumping. His wings flop to the ground, a clicking kind of sound coming from the other. “Techno…” He walks over, his steps too fast for him to back up. A clawed hand was on his shoulder in an instant. “You don’t have to lie about having bad eyes.” He lifts up his glasses, handing them over to one of his open hands.

Techno curls his fingers around the object, frown tightening. “You're not… mad?” He asks hesitantly.

The alien frowned as he stumbled around the room, hands out as he tried to figure out where he was. It hissed and warbled words he had no hope of understanding. Techno turns to stare at it, eyes narrowing to try and see better through the thick glass. “What?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t like that I can’t see without my goddamn glasses!?”

Phil’s hand squeezes his shoulder softly, his head tilting to the side. “That you need a seeing device?” He asks, like being mad at him needing glasses was a crazy thought. Back on Earth it was, no one cared past bullies stealing them off your face and chucking them down the hall. But in space his handlers had hated the fact he had trouble seeing. To the point where he was punished if seen squinting, or failing eye exams.

Before he was confused, yet still learned to guess the blurry blobs in front of him. He knows now it’s because they were trying to sell him, but the fear was still there. “I am mad I didn’t know, as your captain I need to know these things. But not at the fact you have trouble seeing. I could have ordered some contacts for you, like Wilbur has.”

Techno sucks in a calming breath. Being this close to the other was terrifying. It took one pull of his hood for his secret to be revealed. For everything he’s worked for to come tumbling down. “…Sorry.” He whispers, wanting to just run away. This wasn’t how he wanted today to go. No heart to hearts, no freak outs. He’s just lucky he hadn’t gone into an anxiety attack yet.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Phil coos, taking a step back. “Just tell me next time if you need anything, or have problems that I can help with. I can probably get Wilbur to check your eyes over, maybe get you a pair of contacts.” The thought of being dragged to the medbay has him shaking his head.

“No, I can get by with these.” He holds his glasses up, looking over them. One of the glass pieces had a crack through it. It was from the time he fell onto them and broke it, well before his escape into outer space. “Thanks for the… offer, captain.” He nods towards the other and he picks his box for the third time. Phil visibly wilts at being addressed professionally but doesn’t say anything.

He looks back at the storage room. One of the eyes embedded in Phil’s wings looks at him, with hues of lavender and violet. “I’ll finish up this section, how about you go for a break?”

Techno takes his own look across the room, spotting boxes spilling out over the floors, objects haphazardly thrown on shelf’s and steel racks. Even after over an hour cleaning up and organizing the storage room looks like a mess. “Are you sure? I can keep working. It’s really not a problem.” He says while adjusting his hold on the box.

Phil rolls his shoulders, turning his body back around to face him. “Maybe for you, but my staminas spent. Make us some lunch and we can get back to it in an hour or so? Plus you’ll be doing me a favour, Tommy’s having lunch around now anyways.” He chuckles, making hand mostion to shoo him away. He rolls his eyes and finally leaves the room. If Phil wanted to set Tommy onto him that would be fine. He didn’t really want to keep going anyways.

Plus that was a close call anyhow. Techno needed to out this stuff away asap.

~~~

Wilbur

~~~

In a spaceship as big as the SBI, it wasn’t uncommon for Techno to find himself alone. Today wasn’t any different in that regard.

He had fallen behind on some of his duties after helping Phil fix up the storage room for hours on end, leaving him having to try and catch up. He can’t complain too much however, his job today consisted of writing and watering. Like most days when it came to his duties on the ship. There was never a dull moment for him.

Techno huffed out a harsh breath as he heaved up the giant watering can onto his shoulder, letting it sit there as he walked around the green house. He looked over most of the plants on the ship. It was a job that didn’t need a fancy paper saying he studied it for years. So it was perfect for someone like him. Alien plants looked so weird, which was kind of a shock. He knew everything would be different but at least he thought plants would still be green.

But no, the green house wasn’t very green at all. Instead it was an outstanding vermilion. Red stems with red trunks and leaves. Every once in a while he’ll spot a purple and blue plant, which he stayed away from. Those ones were poisonous. He had to learn that the hard way his first week on the job. Techno adjusted his glasses with his free hand as he came up to a bed of red stemmed flowers. He slowly took the watering can off his shoulder and started pouring it over the plants. The petals were a soft pink, almost as pastel as his hair.

He thought it went well with the overly red green house. After he was done watering he hefted the can back onto his shoulder and continued his rounds. He had to keep taking large breaths through a mask over the lower part of his face. There was hardly any oxygen in the room and a lot of gases that were harmful to him. The plants didn’t like oxygen that much and they didn’t convert the gas they do absorb into it either. He could practically suffocate in here.

After he finished watering all the plants that needed to be done today, Techno set down the now empty can and took out his notepad. He started to scrutinise the plants, taking notes on everything he could. He even jotted down where the plants came from when he remembered. He didn’t even get a quarter way done before the garden door slid open. He looked over towards the door. In walked Wilbur, his sharp tail flicking to the side as he looked around the room.

The moment the Phantom’s eyes found him the hue of his translucent and glittery skin changed. It went from its normal ashy grey to a faint blue. His hands began to look like he dumped them into a blue paint bucket. “Techno!” Wilbur greets, marching over. 

“Wilbur.” He inclined his head, gaze moving back to the plant he was looking at. It looked like a pineapple. Well, if a pineapple was red and smelt like puke. He hated the thing. Who thought space pineapples were a good thing!? He jotted a few things down before turning back to his crewmate. “Did you need me for something?” He asks, watching as the other stares out across the garden.

The Phantom whips his head over to him at the words, his skin pulsing a yellow and light green hue. “Do I need a reason to visit my baby twin brother?” He says, purple blooming across his neck. The smirk on the other causes him to roll his eyes.

“I’m not your baby brother.” He huffs, moving his scarf higher onto the breathing mask he has to wear. It was definitely to hide his identity, not because his face was going red.

Wilbur hums sarcastically. His eyes narrowing on him as he takes a step forward. Techno soon feels a hand on the back of his neck, through the many layers of clothing he had drowned himself in. Wilbur holds his neck, dull fingernails scratching at the scarf like he would feel any of it. He lowers the notepad in hand, watching as blue returns to his skin. But this time came a dust of pink. “So why are you here again?” He asks, ignoring the way green shows up on Wilbur’s fingers.

“I just wanted to… hang out.” The other says slowly, looking at him like a kicked puppy.

“Tommy didn’t want to cuddle you and so you came to me, huh.” Techno pipes up as he walks away, the touch leaving. His heart burns for it to come back but he rounds the ugly pineapple like plant. He stops in front of a small sapling, it’s trunk red but leaves a vibrant dark green. One of the only Earth-like planets on the ship. He hears a churning like sound, like someone had put their ear up to a concrete mixer.

The other’s skin bursts out into an array of colours, but the meaning is all the same. Tommy did dump him to do something else. “He’s being a brat!” Wilbur replies, speed walking back over. The hand returns to the back of his neck, another planting itself on his arm. Wilbur settles himself right beside him, tail curling around his pant leg. “I only asked to accompany him because I’m done with all my duties for the day. But he told me to buzz off.”

“Ever thought that maybe I didn’t want to be interrupted?” He asks, looking up into white and grey eyes.

Wilbur blinks down at him, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “No.” He smiles, lifting the hand on his neck so he could rub his wrist on Techno’s scarf covered cheek. “It’s what makes you my favourite baby brother.” He scoffs, wiping his head back to the tree-like plant. The action combined with the fact Wilbur’s hand was still on his cheek causes his hood to fall off his head. The world slows, someone having pressed pause on reality.

His pink hair falls in front of his face, the loose man-bun he had done that morning dislodging. The notepad and pen thud against the floor. Bouncing once, twice before it settles and rolls across the ground. Panic bursts from his vines as he shoves Wilbur to the side and grabs his hood, time fast forwarding. He pulls the hood back over his head, swiping at his hair to get it out of his face. His chest squeezes with anxiety and he looks up, waiting for everything to go to shit.

What he didn’t expect was for Wilbur’s hands to be an inky blank. Techno finches at the stark change in emotions, especially because he’s never seen pure black before. Wilbur’s eyes were wide, his tail spikes flicking out. “Wilbur-“ He’s cut off by the taller alien rushing him. He flinches back but doesn’t have enough time to turn and run as Wilbur grabs his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick!?” The other shouts, worry and panic gracing his voice. The translator squeaks in his ear at the quick volume change, causing him to flinch once again.

“Wa-what?” He manages to say before Wilbur’s hands are moving. One of his bony fingers lifts up a lock of his hair at the side of his face.

“You're losing your natural colour.” Wilbur states matter of factly, eyes racking over the curly strand he’s holding. Techno looks over, swallowing hard as he tries to see what the other was talking about. His once pastel pink hair was now dulled and if he looked up high enough he could see brown strands poking through. A whimper has him turning back to Wilbur, the other alien’s translucent skin continuing to turn a pitch black. From his fingers to his elbow.

“We have to go to the medbay, this is bad. You shouldn’t be this dulled.” The pure pain in Wilbur’s voice stuns him to the point he doesn’t even fight back as he’s dragged out of the garden. He has half the mind to try and fix his hood and scarf better as he’s pulled down the halls of the ship. During all of the manhandling his mind was racing. Not because he might have been found out, but because now Wilbur’s freaking out and he doesn’t know why.

When they make it to the medbay he’s shoved onto one of the medical beds. Wilbur begins to dart all across the room. He’s muttering and panicking so much the communication device can’t pick up on anything. “Wilbur.” He voices, having finally tucked his hair back into his hood. The ends were still poking out. It was hard for him to hide the amount of hair he had. He remembers complaining about it one day, Tommy replying that he could braid it for him.

Techno had almost taken the kid up on the offer before remembering that he couldn’t have the other braiding his hair without his hood being off. So loose man buns and ponytails it was. “Wilbur.” He says again, a little louder this time. Wilbur doesn’t stop opening cabinets and grabbing medical supplies. He lets him be for a second, only to immediately take the thought back when he sees the other grab a needle. “Wilbur!” He shouts, the other jolting with the volume.

Wilbur turns towards him, tail flicking back and forth anxiously. “Yes?” He squeaks out, speeding over. His hands start to hover and he has to ignore the urge to swat them away. Wilbur’s eyes darted all across him, stopping once more on his hood. He goes to grab at it and he leans but, shaking his head. The other freezes in place, another whimper coming from his throat.

“I’m not sick.” He states, voice firm.

Wilbur’s frown only grows more. “You don’t have to cover it up, Techno. We can- we can figure this out. I can tell Phil for you and we can go planet side to find a hospital…” Techno blocks out the other as he begins to ramble, watching as his eyes grow watery. The word sick was becoming more and more like dying.

He watches silently. “Wilbur.” He puts his hand on the other's shoulder. Wilbur stops talking, tail moving up to curl up around his waist. “I’m not sick.” He says again. “My hair…” He takes a bit of it out, letting it rest against his shoulder. “The brown is my natural hair colour, Wilbur. I used to put products in it to make it pink because I liked it better that way. But I don’t have products here so the pink is coming out.”

They stay there in silence for over five minutes. With Wilbur just staring at him, like he was going to keen over any second. Finally, after those very slow five minutes, Wilbur leans back. “So you're not sick?” 

“I’m not sick.” He nods, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“You… changed it to pink?” Wilbur asks, eyes staring directly into him. He feels a shiver go up his spine as he looks into the white and grey void of his friend. 

“I did.” He lifts up his hand, setting his palm on Wilbur’s cheek. The alien leans into the warmth of his palm, exhaling as his shoulders slump. The mental picture causes him to smile, holding back a laugh. A human comforting the tallest alien in the galaxy. One that looked so close to a ghost you had to take a step back to see the differences.

Wilbur lays his head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso. “You owe me Techno time for scoring the stars out of me!” Wilbur huffs.

Techno sighs, setting his head on his friend's shoulder. “Fine. But only for an hour, I still have work to do today.”

Chapter Text

~~~

Tommy

~~~

Working on an alien spaceship thousands of light years from Earth didn’t stop night terrors. If anything, it gave them more fuel.

Techno was always tired, but not the physical kind. His bones felt concrete bricks and his eyes were as dark as a raccoon’s. He often distracted himself with different jobs around the ship so his mind wouldn’t start wondering. It never helped during the night, where there was nothing but the vents creaking to take his mind off things. They don’t tell you in school that space was a vast and empty trauma experience. Clickbaity, really.

One thing that stayed consistent however was Tommy and his need to drag him into rooms he wasn’t qualified to be in. So it wasn’t a surprise when he was dragged off by the spider cat alien on one of his days off. He didn’t even attempt to get the boy's hands off of him, because he was actually needing a distraction recently. He would never say it out loud, but listening to Tommy ramble and shout left him feeling normal for once.

Tommy reminded him of the kids at the local arcade near his house. The ones that would cry if you beat them in a shooter. But the ones that would also hang off your arm for the whole hour you paid for if you let them. Tommy was a lot older than the preteens that he battled with at the arcade but he couldn’t help but see the similarities.

“Wilbur and Philza say your not aloud in here because your not qualified but fuck that.” He represses the sigh he wants to let out as Tommy rambles, walking around the science lab like room. He regrets ever cursing in front of the child.

“I’m pretty sure this is some kind of safety issue.” He drawls, taking a seat on a big stool. It was made to fit Tommy and his six fuzzy spider-like appendages, so he got basically swallowed in it.

Tommy just waves him off as he picks up rectangular goggles and puts them on over his four eyes. His fuzzy cat-like ears get squished to the side, poking out from the bands. “This whole ship is a safety issue.” He comments, making his way over to a table.

Techno follows the blonde with his eyes, watching as he gets to work on whatever the young adult does on the ship. He didn’t really know, even after all these months with them. Phil was the captain, he made sure everything was running smoothly as they crossed the galaxy. Wilbur was a medic and engineer. He made sure the crew and the ship were both running smoothly. Techno was the gardener and also practically a maid as he cleaned up and cooked on the ship.

Tommy played around in a lab all day and annoyed all of them. “What do you do in here anyways?” He asks, setting his chin in his hands. His eyes went half lidded as Tommy turned to him, the little pinchers on the side of his mouth moving.

“I do the most manliest of things!” Tommy practically yells, causing his eyes to widen a bit. He waves around the room, like showing it off would explain anything. “I research.” He groans after realising he had no idea what he was getting at. Tommy grabs a glass beaker and walks up to him, holding out the container for him to see. Techno looks down at the swirling silver liquid with a raised brow. “I’m studying to be a historian but also an outer species researcher.”

He nods, getting the gist of it. “This silver stuff is liquid rock from the planet Two Nine Five, over there,” Tommy points behind him to a beaker with red smoky rock in it. “That’s from the planet Nethera.” Tommy turns and sets the silver filled beaker down. “One day I’ll be able to make peace treaties and know a bunch of different alien languages. I’ll get all the wives!” He shouts, a smile on his face.

It was infectious, Techno finding himself smiling too. “Is that why we’re always landing on different planets?” He asks, looking across the room. There was a lot of stuff scattered around, like trinkets, liquors, rocks and gems. But there were also books and scriptures. Dictionaries and childrens books. But the look of it there had to be around ten different languages written out in this one room.

Tommy just hums as he goes to a large table, staring to scribble things down on some paper. “Yep! As of now I know thirteen written languages, too!” Techno whips his head back over to the younger alien, eyes growing wide.

“Thirteen!?” Tommy just laughs as he nods, moving about the room once more.

“I’m aiming for fifty by the time I graduate.” He comments offhandedly. Like thirteen in itself wasn’t a big deal. Techno leans back in the chair, eyes roaming once again around the room. Tommy continues to talk as he works, study’s? He could be doing either at the moment. He lets his mind drift all over the place, yet never letting it go too far. He stays in the now, never the before. Because the before was gone and it was just him now.

His drifting state gets chucked out the window when he spots something familiar. Which was odd in itself because nothing in space should feel familiar, nevertheless something in a young alien’s lab full of other alien things. Techno gets up from the chair and walks over to something that looks like a white board. It was digitised, but it looked like a white board nonetheless. He didn’t care about the board though, no, he cared about the chemical structure written on it.

“Coffee.” He whispers, quiet enough for Tommy to not be able to hear. It was the chemical structure for coffee. He looks to the small table to the side, a black label around a clear cup with a glass lid. He stared at the curved and intermixed letters but couldn’t understand any of it. He was still terrible at reading Galactic Common. But the chemical structure for coffee was on the label and the liquid inside was the dark roast brown he always remembered it to be.

Going against his best judgement Techno picked up the cup and popped the lid off, taking a sniff of what’s inside. His eyes widened at the family scent of black coffee. Back on Earth this stuff was his best friend. He’d have all sorts of coffees, the best ones that had a chocolate flavour added to them. He looked at the chemical structure on the board then the one on the cap. There was no doubt in his mind that this was coffee. Techno turns his body away from Tommy and pulls down his scarf.

Tipping the cup back, he takes a sip. The love for caffeine comes back like he was a dying man without water and he finds himself taking more sips. It was raw unfiltered caffeine. He licks his lips as he goes to put the lid back on, mind already running a mile a minute. His first thought was how the hell is there coffee in space? The second was why hasn't he seen it stocked in the kitchen? And his last thought was I’m going to need to bribe Tommy into getting me more.

This was probably Tommy’s own stash. The kid looks like he would drink coffee. He pulls the scarf back over his face. His thoughts are cut off by a loud thud. Techno turns, body tensing only to be met with Tommy staring straight at him. His goggles were pushed up to his forehead, furry ears pinned down to the side of his head. His two sets of eyes were blown eyed, the irises as small as a pin point. “…Techno.” Tommy breathes, taking a step closer. “Please, please tell me you didn’t drink that.”

Techno raises an eyebrow, looking between the alien and the cup. “The coffee?” He asks, shoving the cap over it. “Was it your secret stash or something? Hiding it away from Wil and Phil?” The medic of the ship looked to be a coffee guy too. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wilbur drank espresso or something of the sort.

Tommy chitters as he rushes over, grabbing the glass cup away from him. “Techno be serious! Did you drink this!?”

He pauses, eyes narrowing as he looks over Tommy’s stilted form. “…I did not.” He lies, which was probably the worst thing to do when talking to an alien who literally studied things for a living.

Tommy hesitantly looks over towards the cup of coffee, which was visibly gone down. “Techno.” He states, head slowly turning back to facing him. “You drank the fucking poison didn’t you?”

He blinked owlishly as the blonde alien. “Coffee isn’t poison.” He deadpans.

“Oh my stars you did, you drank poison.” Tommy sets down the cup roughly, the pincers on the side of his mouth clicking together anxiously. He steps forward, grabbing Techno’s arms in tight fists. “I-I have to call Wilbur! We have to pump your stomach, check your vitals! You're not going to be able to sleep properly for weeks-“ Tommy practically yells, letting him go as he heads over towards the entrance to the room. His hands tabbing all over a flat device on the wall.

Techno rushes forward. The idea of his stomach getting pumped was not appealing in the slightest. “Tommy, it's just coffee, it’s not poison. Well, it is addictive but it isn’t poisonous. I’ve had coffee before, kid.” He rambles, trying to lighten the mood. He’s only ever heard coffee being referred to as poison by health bloggers and hypocritical student councillors. He never thought the trend would follow him into space.

Tommy slows down in his tapping on his device, head turning to meet his eyes. “You’ve had this before?” He asks hesitantly. Techno sighs, letting his shoulders relax. Finally he was getting it.

“Yes, of course I have.” He replies, smiling over at the other even if his scarf blocked the action. Maybe Tommy could feel the reassurance through the cloth? 

Tommy’s arms drap to his sides, his whole body turning towards him. What Techno didn’t expect to happen was the look of horror and fear that crossed his friends face.“Oh stars, your an addict-“ 

“I wouldn’t call myself an addict.” He hurries out, scratching the back of his neck. He raised one of his hands in a placating gesture. Hoping to give off I’m okay with the simple action. Tommy was freaking out for no reason. Or it could be valid, if space coffee was somehow poisonous. Techno didn’t want to think of that. “I couldn’t get my hands on the stuff since coming here.” To space was unsaid.

Tommy had started shaking a bit ago, but it’s only now that he realises how bad it’s gotten. His spider-like limbs sound like a maraca as they shake in his stance. “How did I not notice you going through withdrawals!? Techno come with me to the medbay we have to do a full body detox-“

“I’m not poisoned, Tommy!” He yells, raising his hands. The kid needed to calm down before he pushed himself into a panic attack. And he’s been through too many to ignore the looks of panic written in the alien’s face. As furry as it was. He marched over, set his hands on the blonde's shoulders and squeezed.  

Tommy takes a deep breath in then, looking him in the eyes. “You literally drank coffee!” He argues back.

Then it dawns on him. “Doesn’t everyone?” He asks, eyes narrowing in confusion. Space coffee had to be a thing, right? How did they get up so early without a caffeine boost?

“…You think everyone drinks coffee?” Tommy says slowly, his shaking having calmed to a low buzz. 

“Doesn’t everyone and their mother drink coffee out here?” He questions more to himself than to the other. Tommy just shakes his head no. Putting a pin in that for later, Techno drops his hands from the others shoulders. They stare at each other, both utterly confused. If he was to get out of this he needed to explain himself, he knows. He just now needs to be careful with it. “It’s normal where I come from, it’s not healthy but it isn’t going to kill me.” He explains.

Hoping that was enough, Techno takes a few steps back. Tommy sighs, running his hands through his head hair. Furr? He never knew which word to use. “So you're not going to go through sleep desperation? You're not going to start seeing things from lack of sleep until your systems start shutting down and you slowly turn into a corpse?” The other boy asks, voice pinched.

He shakes his head, a light chuckle slipping from his lips. “No Tommy, I’m okay. Honest to God-“

“-What the fuck is God?-” Tommy cuts it, his head tilting.

“I’m completely and utterly fine.” Techno barrels on, not wanting to get into that conversation. The alien deflates all left over panic and tense, letting the device on the wall shut itself off.

Then like a switch had been flipped, Tommy is pouncing on him, knocking him onto his back. The overgrown child grabs him by the collar of his shirt, hissing and yelling English curses he’s over heard him say. “Don’t scare me like that!” He shouts, manhandling him as they lay on the floor. “Wilbur was right to not have you in here! What if that was poison, huh! You stupid bitch!” He huffs, letting himself get shaked around by the other. He wasn’t ever going to live this down, was he?

An hour later Tommy brings some of his notes to the small library they have on the ship, letting Techno ask questions about things. He wasn’t allowed in the lab before but now even Tommy keeps him away from it. But they chat in the library, annoying each other until they get into an argument about who’s the worst cook on the ship.

Techno argues with a smile, ignoring the bags underneath his eyes and the exhaustion that threatens to drag him down. Tommy doesn’t see the signs and he doesn’t bring them up. It’s how he wanted it. It’s how he’ll survive.

~~~

Everyone

~~~

“The next planet landing is in four hours.” Phil calls over the music that plays on the radio, looking back from his spot at the helm. Techno was sitting in his designated spot in the cockpit. It was a bit further away from the other, but it could spin and incline for naps so he didn’t have a problem with it.

“Yes!” Tommy yells, jumping up from his own seat. “I can’t wait to visit Hypixel again. You're going to have your mind explode, Techno. It’s so cool.” The younger boy says, ears swivelling with joy.

“And dangerous.” Wilbur pipes up from his spot fiddling with the radio, his tail lazily moving behind him across the floor. “The best black market planet you’ll ever find.” He goes on, clicking a switch on the complicated box he’s holding. The music changes to another alien instrumental he has no hopes of remembering.

Phil looks towards the radio, looking less pleased with the music choice. Wilbur huffs, clicking and twisting something again. A new song plays, another alien instrumental. “Why can we never get songs with lyrics?” Phil huffs.

Tommy looks up from his sphere, which he’s pretty sure is some kind of puzzle game, and sticks out his tongue. “Because Wilbur hates all of us and can’t fix the channels.” Techno scoffs, watching as his three crew mates start arguing over the radio. He leans back in his chair, letting his eyes fall shut. It’s one of those times where he’s wearing his glasses. And it’s fixed to, because Tommy couldn’t leave well enough alone and forced him to get Wilbur to fix them.

He doesn’t even know how Wilbur figured out how to fix them. But there was a lot of this is so primitive and are you sure you don’t want contacts? He got his glasses in the end, looking brand new. The music keeps switching as he sits there, listening to the chatter around him. Techno’s about to drift off when a familiar opening starts to play. His eyes snap open as he leans forward, mouth dropping open.

He’s heard this everywhere before he got taken into space. Everyone and their grandmother was hearing this over the radio. “It doesn’t hurt me.” This is a human song. An Earth song. “Do you wanna feel how it feels?” Of course it has to be this song. The one blasting all over Stranger Things out of all songs.

“We finally get lyrics, yet there in a language none of us understand!” Tommy yells, his voice covering up part of the song. “Wilbur, man, you're getting further from what we want.”

And because he could never keep his mouth shut coupled with the fact hearing English had him on a high, Techno interrupts there soon to be argument. “I understand this.” He says quietly. Yet it was all that was needed to shut up his friends. All three heads snap to him. But he couldn’t care less at the moment. It’s been so long he’s heard someone else speak English. Hear something other than alien Common.

“Do you want to know—know that it doesn’t hurt me?” Techno stands from his chair, staring down at the small radio. “Do you wanna hear about the deal I’m making?” He couldn’t help his lips from partly slightly. He knew in the back of his head he should just ignore it and pretend that the language was nothing more than a past he had no hopes of grabbing onto anymore.

That the then strip of technology around his throat will turn anything he says into words the others could understand. But the freedom that pulses through him is too hard to ignore. “You, it’s you and me…” He whispers, too low for anyone to hear. He sees Tommy’s ears swivel in his direction. Both Wilbur and Phil sit up straighter. “And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God.” He says louder. It’s clear that the others hear, if Wilbur turning up the volume a bit is anything to go by.

Techno was a bad singer. But he didn’t care. “And I’d get Him to swap out places.” He takes a step to the side, a small smile coming up onto his face.

Tommy jumps up to his feet, all of them tapping away. A large sharp smile came up onto the alien's face. “Be running up that road, be running up that hill.” And before he could really think about his next actions Techno reaches out and takes Tommy’s hands. The kid grips onto his hands back. Seeming to understand what he wants. “Be running up that building.” He sings a bit louder. “Say if I only could, oh~”

He swings Tommy around, the kid falling with feet hesitantly. “Wilbur!” He shouts during the small instrumental. “Wilbur, I'm learning a new dance!” Of chorus the kid would take this as a learning opportunity. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. He just smiles back.

“You don’t wanna hurt me.” And that definitely gets a concerned look from Phil. “But see how deep the bullet lies.” Maybe this song wasn’t the best to sing. “Unaware, I'm tearing you asunder.” He swings Tommy back around with his hands, taking steps to the side. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. A sort of mini waltz, if he really thinks about the steps. And in that case…

He moves his hands down to the others waist, Tommy making a confused clicking sound that mixes with a purr. “Oh, there is thunder in our hearts.” He lifts Tommy into the air, quick on his feet as he twirls. Tommy shrieks, legs dangling in the air as a laug bubbles from his chest. He places Tommy back onto the ground as he turns with him again. He catches sight of Wilbur and Phil as he does this. Both looking presently surprised.

“Is there so much hate for the ones we love?” He grabs Tommy’s hand and turns the boy, like he learned to do with the girls in his drama class back in middle school. Back when the grade eight dance was the only thing anyone talked about. Tommy shrieks with more laughter. “Oh tell me we both matter, don’t we? You… It’s you and me...” He stops twirling Tommy, taking both his hands back into his own.

Tommy’s cheeks were red, giggles still slipping from his chest. “One more time.” He whispers, hands moving back down to the boy's waist. Tommy clings onto his shoulders in perpetration. “It’s you and me, you won’t be unhappy.” And with that line he picks Tommy back up into the air, practically flinging the kid around as he moves in circles. “And if I only could I’d make a deal with God.” He sets Tommy back down onto the ground, letting go.

The blonde jumps in place, running over towards Wilbur and Phil. “Did you see that!?” He yells, waving his hands in the air.

“I saw.” Phil chuckles, watching as he continues to move in place. His shoulders dip and his knees bend, he’s dancing all alone now as the song continues to play.

“And I want in.” Wilbur smiles, tail flicking as he stands up from his spot. Techno’s eyes widen a bit as the taller alien walks over, grabs his hands. “Come on Techno, you can’t just dance with Tommy!” And before he knows it, he’s singing the next words of the song.

“And I’d get Him swap out places. Be running up that road, be running up that hill.” Techno waltz with Wilbur around the room. The other smiles, his ashy grey skin turning into vibrant blues and pastel pinks. His fingers look like he dipped them in cotton candy. “Be running up that building. Say if I only could, oh…” He jolts from surprise as Wilbur’s hands let go of his own and grab his waist.

The next instrument plays as Techno quickly grabs Wilbur’s shoulders as he’s lifted up into the air. Hsi feet come off the ground as the other turns and twirls in one spot, holding Techno up for far longer than he did Tommy. He couldn’t hold back a surprised laugh from bubbling out of him. Wilbur sets him back down. Looking far too accomplished for having lifted him into the air. They go back to holding hands, his gloved ones over Wilbur’s bare cotton candy looking ones.

“You… It's you and me. It’s you and me, you won’t be unhappy.” He continues to sing as the waltz once more across the cockpit. Techno let’s go do Wilbur’s hands, backing up a bit. He slides on his feet, turning in a circle by himself. He holds back a bit so his hood wouldn’t fall off. He places his hands on his hips, dipping them a bit as he dances in place. Wilbur follows along. “Come on baby, come on darling. Let me steal this moment from you now.”

He raises his hands, making a pulling motion with them. He’s seen this somewhere on the tv before. “Come on angel, come on come on darling.” Wilbur’s tail flicks excitedly around, feet shuffling in place. He kinda looks like those blow up noodle men set up outside of shops. Techno finds that he doesn’t care. He probably looks worse. He marches over, grabs Wilbur’s hands once more and pulls him along the room. “Let’s exchange the experience!”

He twirls Wilbur then, which was harder with their height difference. But he gets it done and soon enough Wilbur’s backing away, breathing heavily. “Phil’s turn!” He calls, looking over at their captain. The last instrumentals of the song play.

Phil’s wings puff up as he looks between them, holding up his hands. “I’m okay, you guys are having fun.”

“But Phillll!” Tommy whines, marching over and pulling on Phil’s hand. “What if this is some kind of dance of passage in Techno’s culture!? Are you going to leave him there dancing alone?” That has the captain's wings puffing up more, Phil’s eyes snapping towards his. The silent question is there. Is it?

“It is seen as rude to leave a dance invitation.” He shrugs, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. He holds out his hand, any embarrassment thrown out the window. “Come on old man, I’ll go slow.” Both Wilbur and Tommy are there pushing Phil to the centre of the cockpit, where he’s waiting with his hand outstretched. Hesitantly a pitch black clawed hand is placed on his. He grips it immediately, pulling Phil forwards.

“I don’t know how to dance your dances, Techno.” Phil huffs as he places their hands in the correct spots for a proper waltz.

“Just follow what I do with my feet, this is the easiest dance you're ever going to learn.” He replies without any jokes or heat. “I learned this in middle school.” And with that Techno pulls Phil into the waltz. The proper one, not whatever hand holding he was doing before.

“Phil’s dancing!” Wilbur cheers, grabbing Tommy’s hand as the two try to copy them.

The words start up again, and he finds that it’s much easier to sing the ending then it ever was the beginning. “If I only could, I’d make a deal with God.” He chuckles at the scene he’s caused and with the fact he’s out Phil in the girls position for the waltz. “And I’d get Him to swap our places.” Wilbur and Tommy were hardly getting the steps right, but neither was he and Phil.

“And be running up that road, be running up that hill. With no problems.” He doesn’t even try to tip or lift Phil. So he just turns them around the room instead. Phil smiles as he seems to get the jist of the dance. “Say if I only could, I’d make a deal with God. And I’d get Him to swap out places!” He turns them again, Phil flaring out his wings to help them balance. The eyes along them stare at him and only him. Watching his footwork and his hands.

“Be running up that road, be running up that hill. With no problems. Say if I only could, I’d make a deal with God! And I’d get Him to swap out places!” He pulls apart from Phil, turns, and drags him back to being close to him. His hands sat around his neck as he moved them from side to side. At this point Tommy has given up on the waltz and is trying to lift Wilbur up. It isn’t really working out for him. “And be running up that road, be running up that hill. With no problems.”

“Say if I only could. Be running up that hill. With no problems.” Maybe he lied about lifting Phil uo before. Because this would be the only time he gets to do it. His hands tighten around the others waist and he watches as life flashes before Phil’s eyes. He’s totally getting a double shift after this. He lifts Phil into the air. He’s heavier than Tommy but he is able to hold the captain up. Who’s now making clicking sounds at him. He hears Tommy laugh from behind them.

“If I only could, I’d be running out that hill. If I only could, I’d be running out that hill…” He sets Phil on the ground. The song drifted off into static. His heart beats heavily in his chest from having danced with all three of them for a full four minutes. He lets go of Phil’s wasit and the other lets go of his shoulders. He’s definitely sticking up his clothes with how much he’s sweating in this outfit he has on.

“That was amazing!” Tommy yells, his pincers clicking and clacking around near his mouth. “Techno your singing was great!”

“I’m not that great…” Really, he wasn’t. His voice cracked multiple times during that whole thing.

Phil coos, a smile on his face. “Never knew your species liked dancing, Techno. I would have gotten that radio fixed sooner if I knew.” He says, moving back over to his seat at the front of the ship.

He shrugs, taking a seat in his own chair. “Not… really? Well a lot of people dance for plenty of things back home. I’m not a dancer personally though.” The emotions just got the better of him, that’s all. And it felt great to let loose.

Wilbur hums, moving to get back to the radio, shutting the static off. “If you're not much of a dancer, I’d love to see the people on your planet who are.” He comments.

Tommy nods along. “And the language!” He yells, waving his arms around. “It’s so unique! What's your language's name? I have to learn it!” Sets of spider-like eyes were set on him. He feels his lungs stop working and it wasn’t because he did too much dancing. Tommy wants to learn his language. The same one that’s only on Earth, a planet known as being a death world. Whose creatures are killed on sight.

Tommy, who’s probably learned all about death worlds in his studies. “It’s a…” He swallows around the lump in his throat. Come on Techno, think of something. “It’s been so long since I’ve… uh, been back. I don’t… remember? The name of the language.” Tommy practically wilts at his words.

Wilbur and Phil look up from their work, eyes widening a bit. “You haven’t been back in that long?” Wilbur asks, the pink from his skin sinking away.

Techno frowns, choosing then to look away from his crew. How long had it been in reality? Months? A year? Years? We’re they even still looking for him after all this time? “Techno.” Phil speaks up slowly, drawing his eyes away from the floor. “When was the last time you were home?”

The question feels like poison down his throat. Because lately he even started to forget that he wasn’t born in space at all. That he was human, down to every single gene in his body. “I have to go to the bathroom.” He says suddenly, standing up from his chair. The others don’t do anything but watch as he leaves the cockpit. And once in the halls he runs, not towards the bathroom but to his room. He needs to find something with some kind of date on it.

Techno doesn’t even know if his birthday has passed by or not.

Chapter Text

For some reason, Techno thought the lights would be blaring a toxic red. Like in the movies when someone hits the emergency button. But as he runs the lights we’re blaring a dark blue. The lights flickered and the shuttle, at least what he thinks is a shuttle, shifted every few seconds. He had to force his feet to move in time with the ship or else he was going to fall over and trip over his own feet.

He didn’t know what was happening, only that he was waiting for the bastards who took him to slip up. His captors were less likely to notice things when it was close to night time. Or at least when the lights in his cage shut off. So he waited, planned, and snatched the keycard to his cell when the alien keeping him here was too tired to notice.

Unlocking his cell was harder than he thought. But the wedge he put near the door to give him enough space with a well crafted poll was enough to push the card up to the scanner. His cell unlocked and then promptly tried to close on him as the lights around him blared blue. Something was happening on the ship and they were clearly going into lock down. 

Techno didn’t even have enough time to bring anything other than a thick blanket outside his cell before he had to make a break for the exit. And now he was here, running down the halls he’s only seen once with nothing but the clothes on his back and a blanket to shield him. His eyes stung with the flashing lights and his ears rang with a language he didn’t understand coming from unknown speakers.

Everything was going to crap and he was left reeling from just escaping torment. He rounds the corner, ready to look for something to help him get out of here. Only to freeze in place when three very gun looking objects are pointed at him. Aliens in full black suits that look like they’ve come out of a war zone in area fifty one were in the middle of the hall he now found himself in.

He knew they were aliens because humans sure as hell don’t have six pairs of arms. His eyes widened, breath hitching in his throat. He was going to get shot, wasn’t he? This was it. He wasn’t ever going to see his family again, complete college and have his feet on Earth soil one last time. He was going to get shot, he was going to die. They lowered the guns.

And slowly, very slowly, slid over what looked to be a very thin black choker across the floor. Techno bent down and with some hesitation, slipped it across his throat. “-here to rescue the captives from these poachers. State your name and why you're here!” Techno blinked. He… undersold that. Their mouths were clearly making other words, but it came out as English. Rough and with horrible pronunciation, but he could understand it.

The ship tilted and he went down to the floor, legs not able to hold his weight anymore. His knees bang against the metal floor and he stares up into trained gazes. He couldn’t help but finally cry, tears stroking down his face as he gasped for any air able to get into his lungs. “I need—I need help.”

That’s all the three needed to hear. He was saved.

Techno woke with a gasp. Hand flying up to clutch at his beating yet sweaty chest. His room spun around him as his mind flashed memories behind his eyes. Dreams, nightmares, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t hard to breathe, not like it was back in the cell. The air here wasn’t dry or lacking, perfectly matched to what it was back on Earth. Or at least to a planet with the same atmosphere.

He let his shoulders fall, taking gulps of air as he tried to shake off the dream. Memory? One of those things. “…Crap.” He groans, letting his body fall back towards the covers. The blankets were far softer than anything he’s ever felt outside of space. He forced himself to focus on the texture, trying to calm himself down. That was… a bad one. Ignoring the creeping dread that threatens to pull him under, Techno looks off towards the confusing clock mounted on his wall.

In human time, it was around seven in the morning. Early, as he wakes up around eight thirty. But not enough of a difference to have himself go back to sleep. So he forces himself up and out of his bed, swinging his legs off the side. The bed was higher than the ones he’s used to back home. So his feet barely touch the ground. He gets up and walks over towards his closet, pulling it open.

There were shirts, sweaters, scarfs and baggy pants all on hangers. He didn’t have enough clothes to actually warrant using any dwars. He was lucky enough to actually find any boxers that didn’t have tail holes or extra spaces for weird limbs as it is. So he doesn’t complain about the muted clothes and weird textures. Even if he does miss his bright pastel pink collage hoodie he’d wear religiously because he refused to wear any other sweater.

Techno changes quickly before leaving his room. Making sure once more that the scarf covering his face was tight enough to let him breath yet hide his face. He had no work in the garden today, as they landed on Hypixel a day prior. The goal was to get a few more things before leaving later today. Techno refused to leave the ship, even if Wilbur offered him a mask so he could breathe easier.

Breathing wasn’t the problem. Others finding out he’s human was. So he stayed on the ship all day yesterday and plans on doing the same today. Tommy can show him all his new rocks and trinkets later. He makes it to the kitchen door, pausing in his steps when he hears voices on the other side. He frowns, trying to remember what time his crew usually wakes up. He was always the first and he woke up early today. What was going on?

He goes to open the door, which puts his translator in range to pick up his friend's voices. “-can’t be sure, Tommy. Techno said so himself that his planet isn’t well known. It’s on his ID.” That was Phil’s voice. He pauses with his hand on the handle, eyes squinting at the closed door. Why were they talking about him?

“I’ve studied all certified planetary systems, Phil, none of which house Techno’s home world. And then yesterday when I begged him to come along, which usually always works, he practically ran away to the garden—“ Tommy’s cut off by a rumbling sound.

“So what? Techno’s a hermit, or doesn’t like crowded places, or can’t deal with loud noises. There’s plenty of reasons as to why he doesn’t want to leave the ship. And for the planet’s? There’s hundreds of them! You can’t have memorised all of them, that’s simply impossible.” Wilbur says, sounding a bit hesitant.

He hears Tommy groan, chittering sounds coming right after. “You're not getting it. I not only study planets, but who lives on them too! People's cultures, languages… trauma. A lot of uncertified yet clearly sentient inhabited planets have a dark history, guys. What if…” Techno’s stomach drops, eyes widening. A memory flashing through his head. Of being muzzled, chained. Of what looked like a fricken vet doctor coming towards him with gloved hands. Like he was a pet. Trauma. He thinks, is a load of bullshit.

But he couldn’t ignore the fact that he didn’t have the best first impressions of space. A low coo cuts through his clouded thoughts. “You don’t really think Techno comes from a death world, Tommy. Do you?” Phil asks, sounding almost horrified. His hands calm up, tightening around the handle. Death words are killed on sight, that’s what he’s learned while caged up. Any aliens that came from a death word and didn’t play nice never came back. Techno sucks in a deep breath.

“I can’t understand you.” He huffs, watching as the diamond covered alien grunts and croaks at him from the dell over. There was a black plate bolted above the key card lock. It was the same as his. The alien makes a high pitched cracking noise, like two rocks were rubbing against each other. It points to itself and makes the same sounds it’s been doing for the past hour.

“Skkkkiiipie.” It says, moving towards the glass. “Skkkkiiipie.”

“Skeppy?” He tries, thinking he’s way off. Only instead of another disappointed huff, the alien claps its hands together. Smiling at him with his dull yet shiny teeth. “Your name is Skeppy?” The smile he gets back is wider. “Techno.” He points to himself. “I’m Techno.”

“Tch.” Skeppy sound out, cocking his head to the side. “Nooo.” The other smiles. “Tchno!”

“Ehh, close enough.” He shrugs. He tries to hide the small smile that forms on his face. It doesn’t work. A week later while Techno’s dragged out of his cell to go see who he calls The Vet, Skeppy breaks out of his cell by ramming into the glass. He rushes over, teeth bared. Blood spilled but it was never his own, nor was it his friends. Skeppy tried to save him.

It didn’t save himself though, and he never saw Skeppy again.

“I think that we don’t know everything about him.” Tommy states. “I think that maybe he’s hiding from something.” Techno refuses to believe how right the younger crewmate was.

“Now that I think about it…” Wilbur starts, sounding like he doesn’t actually want to be saying anything at all. “I wasn’t given any of his medical records and when I did try to give him a check up to get a baseline, he said to do it later. That was three weeks ago now. I had completely forgotten. I choked it up to both of us being forgetful, or Techno not being used to doctors. But it could be because he’s a death worlder…”

Techno lets his hand fall from the handle. Let his knees shake and his feet move back away from the door. They know. They know. They're going to kick him off the ship. Or worse. They're going to call the Astral All Hands Company and report him. He’s a goner. He’s running down the hall before he could even think about any other options.

The closet was empty, the stored space granola bars he’s hid underneath his bed packed away. A bag sits on his bed, filled to the brim of stuff. His heart refused to return to its normal rhythm as he tried to think of anything he was missing. The oxygen mask in the garden was the only thing he could think that he needed. It would only last forty eight hours, so hopefully by that time he’ll be somewhere safer.

His heart lurched at the idea that he wasn’t safe here. With it the last of his appetite. At least he could start rationing… A knock on his door causes him to jolt. Hand reaching for something to use as a weapon. A pillow was to soft, his bag was to important—

“Techno? Are you in there?” He pauses, head snapping over towards his closed door. His chest aches, his breaths stuttering. Wilbur’s voice, in the back of his mind, felt like a cold washcloth on a raging fever.

Techno looked around his room, reminding himself that there were no windows to jump out of. And if they were, it wouldn't have been a smart idea given the fact they're all on an unfamiliar planet with his oxygen mask somewhere else on the ship. After a few more seconds of silence, and another soft knock on the door, he sucks up his anxiety. “…I’m here.” He says with as much neutrality he could muster.

Which surprisingly was a lot. “Oh, thank goodness! No one has seen you all morning and you're usually the first person up.” Wilbur says from beyond the locked door. Sounding chipper, with a hint of something else. “Tommy’s been annoying me to go find you and ask if you want to come to the market with us? Since you didn’t go yesterday and were leaving Hypixel tonight.” 

Again with the market. The thought of going out there pained him to his core. There were so many aliens that could figure out he was from a death world. So many that could report him, or worse. Even under all these layers, Techno didn’t feel safe. “I’m uh—I’m busy, sorry.” He immediately declines the offer. He knows he’ll have to brace the outside soon, if he were to get out of here before the hammer comes down on him. But he needed to wait for them to be gone without him.

There’s a few seconds of pure silence. It was loud despite the fact it wasn’t at all. “But you don’t have any duties scheduled for today. Did Phil accidentally sign you in for something?” Wilbur goes on, his voice changing a bit. He sounded… insisting.

Techno needed to figure something out fast. “No, no he didn’t. This is uh… personal business. Yea, that.” He lied, looking around his room. There was nothing personal about running away under the thoughts of death. Only coweredes. He pretended that cowering was the same as surviving. At least until it felt too hard to bear anymore.

“Personal business? What kind of personal business?” Wilbur is quick to ask. He stilled at the words. Crap, more lying. But good thing for him he was good at that. “…If you need help doing something I’m sure Phil wouldn’t mind delaying the trip so we can help—“

Techno’s eyes widened as he raised his hands, like the other ws din the room with him. “No!” He shouted, panicked. He can’t have them delay their trip, not if he wanted to leave undetected… “It’s uh, the type of business I have to do alone? Private things by yourself that… my kind does. Sometimes…” He drifts off into uncertainty, wondering what the hell he was talking about. At this point, lying through his teeth was the only thing he had.

More silence, then a soft screeching like sound meets his ears. “Oh! Like how Phil preens or how Tommy spins his webs, I completely understand.” That’s new information. “If you need anything though, to help you with what you're doing, you can just text me on the communicator. I’ll stay close to the ship in case you need me. Okay?”

A chill runs down his spine at Wilbur’s tone. So ready to help, so eager to provide. He can’t help but feel relaxed. Even if it won’t last. They know he’s a death worlder, this is all fake. Gone are the days of complaining about Wilbur being clingy. Gone were the fatherly gazes Phil gives him when he does something to amuse the older. No more were the strange facts and ramblings of Tommy, who could fill a novel up with his words. “…Okay.” He whispers.

A rumbling sound made him walk closer towards the door. Techno sets his hand on in, wondering if he really was just going to leave their last interaction like this. “We should be back within the hour, just a few things to pick up. I hope everything goes well.” Wilbur says lastly, his shadow retreating from the door. With it, his footsteps followed.

Techno takes a deep breath in and wipes at his damp eyes. “Thanks, Wilbur…”

He doesn’t leave a letter. It’s something he’s always regretted before, not knowing truly what his final words were to the people on Earth. He was a moody college student with responsibilities piling up and students dept breathing down his neck. He didn’t think being kidnapped by aliens was going to be on that list. So, no, he doesn’t remember his last words. He regrets it. Guilt weighing him down for no reason. Why have guilt over something out of your control?

Maybe it’s why he decides to not leave one as he walks the halls of the ship. Heading for the garden where his oxygen masks sits just outside the airlock to the colourful room. Techno needed something to feel guilty for. If he did something wrong, something bad, then maybe every shitty thing that has happened leading up to now would somehow be his fault. He’d have someone to blame.

And blaming himself was far better than not having anything to blame at all. “It’s like a bandaid.” He whispers to himself, his bag heavy in his back. He was sweating bullets underneath all his clothes, his identity covered in fabrics. All he needed to do was leave the ship and run. From Tommy’s ramblings Hypixel was a planet that frequently had criminals passing by. And maybe that was a bad sign, but Techno had dealt with alien dealers in the past. His ID is proof of that.

He gets to the green room, his mask hanging up next to the door. Techno grabs it with both of his hands, holding it in front of him. No cracks, no breaks. He blinks slowly at it. His glasses were safely tucked away, causing the edges of the mask to be a bit blurry. It’s weird, since he’s gotten used to being able to see clearly again. But he’ll get used to being without picture perfect sight soon enough.

Techno ties the mask to his belt. Letting the thing fall against his hip. Now, he only had thirty minutes to leave and get as far away from his cremates as humanly on another world as possible. His chest squeezes, guilt building up again. Good, he thinks. It’s what he deserves for… lying. He’s never really felt bad for lying before. Not since getting kidnapped. Survival meant lying.

He couldn’t help but remember the others however. How Tommy would get it in his head that Techno needs to try all the foods from the kids home planet. How Wilbur would play that guitar looking instrument that sounded nothing like a guitar. How Phil wouldn’t even wait a second before he asks if he’s had a good morning. But he’s from a death world, he’s lied, he’s gotten others hurt just because he was alive.

Even if they didn’t know, they wouldn’t want him. Not really. Techno turns, mind set as he marches down the empty halls. Get to the exit, get out, never turn back. It would not only be best for him, but the others as well. The faster he leaves the faster they can start forgetting about him. It takes far too long to find the exit. The ship was like a maze and it didn’t really help that he’s usually in the living areas. Not the actual door to outside.

But as soon as he finds he stops, feet stilling in front of the door. Techno turns, looking at the emptiness. He could almost hear laughter and the song he had listened to in the cockpit with his crew. “I don’t do goodbyes.” He states, facing the door once more. “But I did like it here.” No one hears him. Techno presses his hand to the scanner. The screen lights up white before the door starts to slide open. He sees red scales before anything else. Confusion takes route before the doors slide open further. Revealing two more alien-like figures he hasn’t seen before. “Uh….” 

Something smashes into the side of his head before he could even ask who the hell had entered his ship.

Chapter Text

When he wakes, it’s to a throbbing pain on the side of his head. Like he face-planted into a moving truck. Which would probably feel better, he thinks. There’s something beating into his ears in the background, a noise he couldn’t understand. He pushes his face away from whatever it was, chasing relief from the pain that has him in a chokehold. Wherever he found himself was cold, the biting icy chill sinking into his skin.

The noise persists, causing him to groan. Doesn’t it know it’s rude to yell at somebody who’s in pain? Techno thinks it’s pretty common knowledge. Suddenly a screech meets his ears and he jolts up from his lying position, eyes snapping open. His heart almost jumps from his chest as a migraine poses as a quick annoyance. His limbs ache and his body screams to go back to being still. What meets him isn’t a blaring blue light, but a white faint one. “-chno!”

His ears were ringing, which only made the migraine he had worse. The room he found himself in was bare. But, he was looking straight into the corner of two walls. “Techno!” A voice breaks through the static noise in his head and he slowly turns. His eyes connect with bars and through those white mettle bars his eyes land one scared blue eyes. Beside those eyes were brown ones. The skin that holds them pulsing with colouring meaning nothing other than fear.

“Thank the stars, you're awake.” A coo sounds out from the left of him. Techno doesn’t have the strength to turn as he stares at Wilbur and Tommy. The two were in a cell, across from his own. They were wearing the same thing they did when they left for the market. But instead of clear skin, Tommy was sporting a split lip and Wilbur what looked like a bruised jawline.

Tommy trills as he scrambles closer towards the bars. His hands gripped the white surface. “Techno!” He calls, voice echoing just a bit. “Finally had enough beauty sleep, eh?” He chuckles dryly, lip wobbling. Wilbur was quiet and so was he. They just stared at each other.

Bars.

Bruises.

He licked his lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth.

Blood.

“Mate?” Phil’s voice draws his eyes, finally, and he looks into what looked like cracked crystals. He couldn’t breath, couldn’t make a thought other then what the fuck. Phil’s beak-like mouth was pulled into a thin line, his galaxy coloured eyes trained on him. The eyes littering his arms were all closed, black eyes littering across them. The tangled mess of blonde hair fell over his face, the bun having been undone. “Techno, are you alright?”

He was bound to the wall, wings chained to the ceiling. He was left standing, his legs having mini quivers as to try and not pull on the fragile and bound feathers. Yet still he sounded like nothing other than a concerned father. It was sickening. “He might be in shock, Phil.” Wilbur chimes in, sounding uneasy. “It’s not every day you get beat up and thrown into your own ship's cell container the moment you step through the bloody air lock!” The rise in noise causes him to flinch. 

Bars.

Bruises.

Blood.

“He’s hyperventilating.” Tommy’s voice shuts up any retort to Wilbur’s words. He feels eyes on him, and more than three sets. The eyes hidden in Phil’s feathers opened wider, staring. Was he hyperventilating? To think of it, it was very hard to breathe right now. But he had just assumed the oxygen levels were messed up in the cell containment. Techno grabs at his chest. His heart was going to break through his rib cage.

This can’t be happening. The bars draw closer towards him, pushing up against his face. Distantly they stay the same distance away. But, he feels them. Suffocating him into too small of a space. Pinpricks along his arms turn painful. Yea, no, he definitely can’t breathe anymore. Tears well up in his eyes. Far from sadness, delving right into anger. How could he let himself get caught like this? How could he be so useless—

“Techno breath!” Wilbur’s voice stabs through the haze of panic, sounding like a record scratch. He snaps his head up, lips trembling. His knuckles turn paper white where he grabs onto his chest. He swears he could feel his blunt finger nails cut through his clothes and into his skin. The colour of Wilbur’s skin was an ashy grey, his bright eyes staring into his. “I know enough of your breathing patterns to know you need to take a breath, now.” The alien states. “Take a breath.”

Techno embarrassingly doesn’t, instead letting out a cut off whine. He hides his face in his scarf, whisking upon everything to be anywhere but here. Why did it smell so sterile? “Don’t make me come over there.” Phil’s voice snaps, sounding worried despite the stern vocals. “We need—I need you to breathe, that’s an order.” And—

He chokes on the air, his lungs fighting him to stay drowning in a room full of oxygen. But he gets enough in for a cry to leave his lips. Instead of leaving him to try again, or look at him with distaste, the others seem to lean towards him. Tommy goes as far as to start purring, his hands tapping against the bars. “Again!” Tommy shouts, eyes moving up and down him. Techno takes another breath.

The panic doesn’t go away. It never will, not when he’s ignored it for so long. It’ll linger, carving its way through his life. But he can breathe, he’s breathing. He’s not losing his mind. The room still feels suffocating and he’s half waiting for the Doctor to come marching down the hall to do more things to him. But he’s breathing. His breaths mellow out and he rubs harshly at his eyes. Lungs no longer pitching a fit.

“…Are you okay now?” Phil asks from the other side of their cell, still chained up to the wall. Techno nods, taking one last deep breath in. He pushes himself into the corner, bringing his knees up to his chest. Wilbur and Tommy settle down in their own cell, leaning against each other. The silence was everywhere. Well, at least until it wasn’t. “How are you feeling?” Phil speaks up, breaking the false sense of calm. Techno doesn’t think it was only directed at him.

“Like I’ve been run over by a spaceship.” He groans, looking up from his knees. Tommy at least snorts at his attempt at comedy. He mindlessly fixes the scarf around his face. For some reason he wasn’t stripped of all his layers. But his oxygen mask is nowhere to be seen. Along with all his stuff he was bringing with him. “So, what happened while I was out?” He asks. He needed everyone to forget his show of emotion, please.

Wilbur sifts from sitting to standing. He starts to walk the back wall of his and Tommy’s shared cell. “Well,” He begins, his spiked tail whipping around. Tommy has to shuffle closer towards the bars to not get wacked with it.  “After we were done shopping we came back to find a trail of red, followed it, then got jumped by bandits when he caught them dragging your unconscious body towards the cells.” Wilbur spits, head whipping over towards him.

His gaze softens slightly once catching Techno’s. “It was clear after that… that the red stuff was your blood.” He says more quietly.

“Phil whooped some ass!” Tommy shouts, cutting Wilbur off from saying anymore. “Gave one of the bandits a broken nose. Almost cut the others in two if it wasn’t for them having you as a hostage.” Tommy frowns, crossing his arms. “…Only pussys hold hostages.”

“What I think they're trying to say is,” Phil sighs, looking between the two with nothing less than abortion. It looks broken on his captain's bruised face. Sad. Techno has to remind himself to breathe so as to not delve into another panic attack. “Three bandits got onto our ship, subdued us and now were shit lost in space.” That makes… sense. Wilbur had reminded them plenty of times that Hypixel was a dangerous place.

Techno looks at the bars, then over at the other cells key card pad. It was scarily easy to figure out that all they needed to do was tap a card. No tiny bars to fit through, no sling to try and throw the cards into the right place. And from his memory there were three bandits. Certainly they didn’t want a dead body in their hands. They were hostages for the others, nothing more, nothing less.

“What are you thinking?” Phil asks. His eyes shined with something he’s seen from no one but the older man. Pride. Pride that he’s thinking and living and breathing.  

It was a miracle how he ever thought to leave. “I have a plan, but it’ll need all of us to get it working.” Techno stands, stretching his arms above his head. His spine cracks. Satisfied, he walks over towards the bars. Fingers grazing the metal surface. They were electrified, good. But he’ll definitely need to tell Phil to make his cells less easy to get out of later, after they're all safe. “And it’s really frickin risky.”

He looks around, eyeing each one of his friends. Determined looks were the only things he got back. “Alright then.” He smiles. “Let’s have a jail break.”

“Will you shut up!?” Tommy screams, banging his hands on the bars.

Phil growls from the other side of his cell, a loud shrieking call leaving his throat. “Don’t back talk to your captain! It’s your fault where trapped here in the first place! If I didn’t need to be worrying about you I could have taken care of the bandits!”

“Oh like you could have done better by yourself.” Wilbur hisses from his and Tommy’s cell.

Phil growls louder, hands testing the binds. “What did you just say to me Wilbur?

The phantom rolls his eyes, tail flicking. “Nothing, captain. Just that with you tied up like that I don’t see much of a use for you.”

A loud ear crushing screech threatens to cause him to cover his ears, but he lays still. “You little shit—“

“What the fuck is going on here!?” A new voice joins them, feminine. Techno looks from where he’s laying in the corner, his eyes half lidded. All the clothes he wears make it almost impossible to see his face and eyes.

The bandit—he can’t get his mind around the fact there’s space bandits— rounds the corner. Her thin and scaly burgundy body revealed a roll of key cards on her hip. Idiot. He thinks. “Some people are trying to sleep while others are being annoyingly loud!” Tommy yells, hands held in fists at his sides.

“It’s my ship!” Phil shouts back.

The bandit looks around like they were all an inconvenience. “You have to be kidding me…” She groans, turning her attention onto Phil. The man sizes her up despite the fact his legs looked like they were going to give out any minute. “Don’t make me come in there and quiet you fucks down. We don’t need all of you to steal a ship.” She threatens.

Phil chuckled darkly, the blues of his eyes turning navy. Techno doesn’t think it was part of the plan. “Try me, missy.” It got the effect they wanted however. The bandit sucked her teeth as her nails seemed to sharpen. She stalked towards the cell, feet stopping only a few centimetres away. Techno couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t think I won’t come in there—“ Techno moves before she could even finish her threat, pushing himself up off the floor. He ignores the ache in his limbs as he sprints towards the bars and grabs a fist full of her shirt. The bandit yells, eyes widening as her gaze meets his.

“Hey.” He greets, smile widening as both Tommy and Wilbur get up off the floor. Tommy un-balls his fists as he struggles to keep the woman in place.

“Let go of me—help!” Techno shoved his fist into her mouth. She bites down, dna or teeth digging into her knuckles. He bites down on his tongue to keep from screaming.

“Now!” Wilbur yells. Tommy throws his hands out, the webs he had made for this plan darting through the bars. They stick to the back of the bandit. With one swift motion Tommy grips his webs and pulls hard. Techno lets go and the alien goes flying back with unbelievable force. She hits the bars with a loud clang, Wilbur reaching through. His arm wrapped around her throat in a choke hold.

Tommy, as quickly as the phantom, slaps the extra web in his hand over the bandits mouth, muffling her screams for help. Tommy dives his hand over the bandit hip, grabbing at the cluster of key cards. Techno watches as the alien’s face grows green before passing out, Wilbur letting her body hit the ground.

“It worked!” Tommy yells, raising the cards. Phil and Wilbur chirp, both sounding different. He couldn’t help but cheer silently.

“Hand them over.” Wilbur quickly orders, Tommy passing him the cards. One after the other Wilbur swipes the cards through the bars, using his long limbs for an advantage. The second to last one turns the card swiped white, the bars descending into the floor. Techno stands back as the two scramble past the now unconscious bandit. He wipes his now bleeding hand on his pant leg. They try the rest of the key cards until his and Phil’s cell is opened.

Something leaves off his chest, making it a bit easier to breathe. “Wholly shit that worked.” Tommy exhales, running his hands through his hair. Wilbur and Phil laugh as the phantom goes over to unhook the elytrian’s bound wings. Using a small key attached to the card stack to unlock the chains. “But I’m never spinning webs in the same room as you guys again.” He states after a few seconds, body shivering.

Techno silently agreed. Remembering this afternoon what Wilbur had said about the alien. Some things were better left private. The only thing they could do was shut their eyes and turn around. “That feels so much better.” Phil sighs, legs finally giving up as he slumps to the ground.

Tommy purrs, walking over to their captain. He sits next to the other, ears flicking. Wilbur runs his hands over the parts of Phil’s wings that were bound, a black glittery substance coming back on his fingers. It smelt like iron. Blood. Phil was bleeding. Well, they all were. Tommy with his split lip and Wilbur hsi his bruises. He wondered silently if any of it was internal.

“Give him back!” Techno screams, throwing everything and anything at the glass wall. The cell acronym from him was empty, cleaned out. Skeppy was nowhere to be seen. Because of him. “Give Skeppy back you son of a bitch!” No one dared answer him.

He curled his hands into fists, his heart bounding a deadly tune in his chest. His crew, his friend, were hurt. He looks at the bandit lying unconscious in the hall, his jaw locking as he feels his nails dig into the palms of his hands. He’s never killed somebody before. Never thought he’d have it in him. But as he remembers what happened to the last person he called his friend, he knows for sure that if he was under any type of pressure murder would be an option on the table.

And he’s under a lot of pressure right now. “We need to move.” He states, heading over towards the hall. He peeks out, eyes scanning the cell room. It was small, the ship not being made to house captives. “They’re going to figure out their friend isn’t coming back any time soon.”

“What are we supposed to do? They beat us the first time.” Wilbur states, joining him in looking around the cell room. He then glances at him, fingers moving to hover over the side of his head. Techno knows he’s looking over the dried blood caked to his hood. “I don’t even know what they did to you before we got here.” 

“There’s not much else we could do.” Techno huffs, walking out of the cell. “We either stay here waiting for them, or we take them by surprise.”

“Techno’s right.” Phil voices. He goes to get up off the floor, knees immediately buckling. Tommy catches him, helping him stand. “I may not be one hundred percent, but I’m not about to let my ship get stolen right in front of us.”

Tommy looks over all of them, a smirk growing on his face. “Plus.” He looks over at him, his tongue sweeping over his busted lip. “I really want payback.” 

Sneaking around the ship was scarier the second time. Partly because Techno wasn’t the only one on it this time around and because he now has three others to govern as they move about the halls. Wilbur and Tommy had switched places, with Wilbur helping Phil walk. Tommy stayed right behind him. He could feel the young kid's breath on his neck. Phil led them, as it was his ship. And because he refused to take a step back, even with his injuries.

“So what’s the plan?” Tommy whispers, peaking around his shoulder. “Because jumping them when they could have weapons seems like a pretty bad idea.” He mutters.

“Just get me to the control panel.” Phil says, one of his eyes unfogging on his forearm. It looks back at them, blinking. “I can do a manual shut down. They’ll need a three hand print password to get it moving again. Which is me, Tommy and Wilbur. Who’s pulses need to still be going, so they can’t hurt us.”

“We can kick them off the ship without having to even interact with them. Once the bandits can’t control the ship, they’ll leave.” Wilbur fills in, looking back at them. “They just want it to sell, anyway. Which is impossible if they can’t even get it to whoever is taking it.”

Techno nods. All they had to do was get to the control panel—which is who knows where—and manually shut down the ship. Easy enough. “Seems simple enough.” He states.

“Easy, huh?” A new voice joins them from the right. Techno flinches, head whipping to the side. He’s not fast enough as something hard is hit across his head, causing him to hit the hallway wall. There’s a loud screech that could only be Wilbur. Black edges at his vision as he looks up, mind running everywhere else. The hallway tilts, but he’s pretty sure the ship was steady. 

“Techno!” He hears Tommy yell, his face pushing into his vision. Before he could say anything the younger screamed, a clawed hand grabbing his blonde curls as he's grabbed backwards. It’s the bandits. His mind whispers sluggishly. A multicoloured tail comes in his vision in seconds, the noises around him feeling like water. Wilbur stood in front of him with Phil standing a little to the left, both their hands raised. There’s screaming, a lot of it.

For a second Wilbur’s spiked tail turns into gems, the screaming sounding inhuman with lack of a translator. For a moment, it’s him and Skeppy in the wall. With the Vet and Doctor holding up weapons towards them. Skeppy just wanted to protect him, he didn’t deserve to go missing. Techno blinks hard. When he opened his eyes again Phil was knocked on the floor, a sharp claw held to his throat as Wilbur was held up against the wall. He was gasping for a breath the hand around his throat didn’t allow.

Across from him, the second bandit was kicking Tommy in the stomach. “Stop.” He growls, voice strained. Not again. His hazy mind agrees. He wasn’t going to let this happen again. Techno forces his aching limbs to move, using the hall to help him stand up. The noise in the room drains away, leaving a ringing in his ears. He pushes himself off the wall, using the momentum to grab at the bandits shoulder. There’s a vibrating hiss that sounds out, but he ignores it.

Lifting his clenched fist he delves it into the first bandit's face. They let go of Phil and Wilbur. There light, he notices. Light enough to throw away. Techno locks eyes with the second bandit as he throws the first one into them. They topple to the ground, Tommy being freed from the clawed hands. Techno stalks towards them, hands clenching and unclenching. His eyes play tricks on him as for a second he sees them. The Vet and the Doctor, instead of bandits.

His hands curl into fists one more time as one of the bandits try to get up. His punch is aimed right for where he thinks there nose is. It breaks underneath his fists. The bandit goes down. It was easy, far too easy. He kicks the one still on the floor, grabbing at its collar. Another punch to a nose, then another, then another, then another—

This is why your a death worlder

Techno screams, he feels hands on his shoulders. He pushes them off as he goes after the first bandit. Who was now trying to scramble away. He stalks them like they were prey. It doesn’t faze him. Not when friends have died because he was too scared to simply act. Would it have been this easy? We’re the Doctor and Vet this weak? Could he have saved Skeppy if he just decided to stop caring about himself? He doesn’t know, but he’s going to make up for it.

The screams of the bandit didn’t bother him as he drove his foot into their side. It didn’t bother him when they clawed at his arms and face. It didn’t bother him when he punched their jaw over three times in a row. He was angry, stressed and had had enough. And when silence came, coupled with someone grabbing his arms, he didn’t think enough to care about the fact the bandits weren’t trying to escape anymore.

“Techno enough!” He’s pulled off of the bandit. Not yet. His mind screams. They're still breathing. He struggles against the hold and wins, pushing whoever was trying to stop him to the side. He whips around and screams, baring his teeth like he were a wild animal. It’s what they wanted, didn’t they? The Vet, the lab people. They wanted this. It only took a broken man to give it to them.

His fists were raised, back hunched. His dulled hair fell in front of his face and on his shoulders in pools of curly hair. Wilbur was holding his wrist, like he’d been hurt. Techno looks around for whoever did it. They were next, they were all next. “Thank you.” His head snaps over towards the voice, finding Tommy standing a few feet away with his hands up. A purr came from his chest as he took a step forward. “Thank you, Techno. But it’s over. You don’t need to protect us anymore.”

He takes a breath, reminding himself that he didn’t need to dissolve into another panic attack. Not when he needed to make sure everyone was safe. “They hurt you.” He spits, eyes locked on the new bruises forming. “They—“

“They're unconscious, mate.” Phil cuts in, his hands raised. Something was held in it, something… Techno’s eyes widen. Phil was holding his scarf. He slowly raised his hand to fix his face cover. Only, it wasn’t there. His eyes watered, his breath hitched and he reached up towards his hood. His hand swept through thin air. Techno slowly looked around. Besides the unconscious bandits, his many scarves were littered across the floor. They must have gotten ripped off during the fight.

The others seemed to notice as they took a step towards him, all making soothing sounds. Techno couldn’t handle it. They know and now they have a face to a name they can call in to the authorities. He’s dead, he’s fucking dead. “Techno—“ He doesn’t know who says his name, doesn’t wait to care. He takes off, pushing past anything and everything. He couldn’t even run now, as they were fuck all in space. He doesn’t think he’d leave anyways…

Maybe being dragged screaming would be a less harsh bandaid to rip off then walking out himself after all.

The calls for his family behind him only spur him on.

Chapter Text

It’s been days since Techno’s secret had been revealed. For some reason he’s been left to his own devices, locked away in his room. He checks it every hour, wanting nothing more than for them to break it. Because if they did he wouldn’t have to live in fear of what would happen. He’d know. Instead they play with him.

Every day on the dot someone brings him food. Setting it down in front of his door before trying to strike up a conversation. It was evil and cruel. Something deep in him loved hearing there voices. He’d never answer and only take the plates left out there when there cold and gross. When no one was there to drag him away.

Some days he pretends he’s still part of the crew. He’ll wake up amd go through his morning routine. Cover himself head to toe in clothes. Only to pause at the handle. After a few seconds he’d walk slowly over towards his bed before collapsing onto it. Today was different however. He never got out of bed. Instead he laid in a curled up ball as he watched the clock tick on by.

He ignored Phil’s good morning as he came to deliver him breakfast. Ignored the quiet coo for attention. Anything, he could practically hear his former captain say. Just say anything. Techno stays quiet, doesn’t get up and thinks of chains and bars. That afternoon Wilbur comes to give him lunch. He could practically feel the concern flood off the other as the phantom's steps suddenly stop.

The sound of creaking far too animalistic to be the ship's floorboards was his only warning before Wilbur tried the door. It bulked against his lock. “Techno?” The other calls, voice quiet. “I brought you lunch.” He doesn’t reply, burying his face into his pillows. “I see you’ve skipped breakfast. Is—is there something wrong with it? Are you not feeling well?”

He breathes out harshly through his nose. He had no idea if it was up to standards, he never left his bed to check. His limbs left glued to the sheets, pinning him to the soft mattress. The clock turned, indicating a few minutes have gone by. “I’m going to leave your lunch here and bring over some stomach medicine, if that’s what’s bothering you?” 

Another minute. “I’ll be back.” With that he could hear the clinking of cultlery as Wilbur leaves his lunch at the door. The breakfast he’d wasted probably being picked up. A moment later he hears Wilbur leave. Techno closes his eyes. He was tired. Tired and afraid. There lying to him, trying to get him to trust them before sending him away. The worst part wasn’t that he knew.

It was that he knew and pretended like it wasn’t true so he could feel loved for a little while longer. Now wasn’t that a depressing thought?

He doesn’t know when he fell asleep. It didn’t do its job though. As he wakes up to a sound he feels more tired than he’s ever felt before. Bones aching, mind pounding. It’s hard to even lift up his head to look towards the door, where the sound that woke him up came from. His fingers were going numb. He didn’t think that was normal.

“I’ve brought dinner!” Techno groans, the headache pulsating through his head pounding. Tommy was outside his door. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the blonde being there, no, he secretly loved the boisterous yelling. His headache however did not. He watches as the shadows outside his room settle, no doubt the alien seeing the left lunch still at the door. And medicine, if Wilbur followed through with his plan.

“Phil made soup as Wilbur said you weren’t feeling well. You should come get it before it gets cold.” Techno snorts, rolling his eyes. Like he was going to fall for that. The sound of shuffling draws his attention back out of his mind. It seemed like Tommy sat down outside the door. He always seemed to do that. Both Wilbur and Phil have important jobs on the ship. As engineer and medic, Wilbur was always tinkering with either someone, or the ship.

As captain and cook, Phil was either cooking, steering or talking with other ships and crews. Tommy was here on study, other than keeping up with school work he didn’t have anything to do. It’s why Tommy usually bugged him when he wasn’t in the garden. “You’ve been held up in there for a long time, well, for us at least. I don’t know your species…” The hidden words were clear as day. I know you're not whatever you put on your ID.

“But I’m pretty sure you're a social one. So being in there all alone isn’t really good for you.” Techno sighs, looking away from the door. Tommy was smart. Too much for his own good. And Techno was an idiot to believe anything would sneak past him. A silence spreads between them as he lays there. Tired, he closes his eyes. Exhaustion clings to every part of him.

His mind moves like water. Suddenly Tommy clears his throat. He opens his eyes once more. How much time has passed? “I’ve studied a lot of Death Worlds, Techno. It’s uh—it’s going to be my specialty. You don’t need to hold yourself up in there just because you got caught in your instincts.” Tommy voices from the other side of the door. Techno can’t even make himself scoff as he tugs at his hair. He didn’t have instincts. He had no excuse. He almost killed someone—

“You can talk to me, you know? I can help with whatever you're feeling. Or if you don’t want to talk about what happened I’ll listen to anything else. It’s up to you.” Nice, he’s too nice . He didn’t deserve it. Not someone like him. Techno wasn’t like them. He wasn’t kind, lovable. The Doctor liked him for horrible reasons. Like always he doesn’t reply and like always, Tommy starts to ramble.

The kid had a knack for talking to a silent door. Techno soaked it in. Stifled his laughs and rolled his eyes. Life breathes back into his lungs for a short while. For a short bit, he felt normal again. Like he’s at the kitchen table as the crew chatted around him. Wait, crew? Normal? No, that wasn’t right. His normal was back on Earth. With humans. With feeding stray cats that show up in his backyard.

A gut twisting feeling takes over him. This was his normal now, wasn’t it? How long since he’s touched a tree not alien to him? How long will he have been in space more then on his own home planet? How long until he can’t even remember his face because he’s forced to hide who he is?

“—and sometimes when we were really brave me and Tubbo snuck around the council room to eavesdrop. It was scarily easy to—“ 

“Earth.” Techno cuts the younger man off, wiping at his eyes. They weren’t watery, they weren’t. But no one was in here to see anyways, so why should he care? His voice was dry, rough and cracky. He needed some water.

Tommy pauses his chatting. He could hear his breath hitch, his shadow moving from under his door. “What?” He questions after a second, voice hopeful.

Techno sighs. It’s now or never, he thinks. At least they’ll know his story before the authorities get here to drag him away. Maybe… maybe they’ll decide to take him without roughing him up first. He’ll go willingly, he decides. He doesn’t think he could throw another punch even if he wanted to. “My home planet is named Earth. Part of the Milky Way.”

“…I’ve never heard of it.” Tommy says. “Tell me about it.”

“There’s not much to say.” He shrugs, looking at the shadow of his friend. “I lived in a house before. Made out of concrete and wood. I was going to college before… before the whole space thing.”

“You were getting a higher education.” He hears Tommy purr at the words. “What were you studying?”

“English.” He replies simply.

“En…gush?” He snorts at the pronunciation.

“It’s what my language is called.” He comments. “I was going to study it and literature.”

“Nerd.” Tommy says.

He rolls his eyes. “Says the kid who literally studies other species for a living.” He hears a squawk from the other side of the door. He can’t help but chuckle, Tommy joining in with his booming laugh.

It takes a bit for them to quiet down enough for any more questions to be said. “What made you want to come to space and sign with the Astral All Hands Company?” He clamps his jaw shut, the memory of that night flooding his mind. He’s never felt so sick in his life. Never felt so out of it. Never so scared.

“Techno?” Tommy calls his name hesitantly.

“I was kidnapped.” His shoulders hike up to his ears, the water works starting up again. How many times is he going to cry before he runs out of tears? “I didn’t—I never wanted to come to space. I—They weren’t nice to me—“ Before he could even say anything else a son rips out of his throat. Days, weeks, months of pushing everything down coming back ten times harder. He couldn’t speak anymore and he pushed his face into the blankets to muffle the sounds.

“Techno!” Tommy yells from the other side of the door, sounding panicked. “…I’m coming in!” Before he could even register the meaning of those words he heard the lock on his door click off. He flinched, eyes snapping back towards the door. The door swings open to reveal Tommy in the doorway, a key card held in one of his right hands. “It’s okay.” The other says as he walks over towards the bed.

Techno doesn’t even have the strength to move away. Everything hurts. “Please don’t.” He whispers, body shaking. “I’ve been good, I didn’t—“

“Shhhh.” Tommy cuts him off, throwing the key card somewhere in the room. He takes a look at the tangle of blankets that surrounds him, choosing not to climb on the bed. Instead he moves to the side where his head was, hands outstretching. He jolts, waiting for the pain. Only, there wasn’t any. Soft claws drag themselves over his curls as Tommy squats to be at head level with him.

Tommy’s eyes rack over him, stopping at the sight of his bare arms. Coloured with ugly deep purple bruises. “I’m going to guess that’s not your national colourization.” He whispers, moving his gaze back to his. It was soft. Too soft to hurt. “I’m not going to hurt you, Techno. No one here is going to hurt you.” A breath, a pause. “Where does it hurt?”

Through the tears and well of unfiltered emotions, he could only get out one word. “Everywhere.” Tommy growls lowly at the word, his other hands moving some of the blanket to the side. His shirt rode up his back a bit, giving a clear view of the littering bruises and redness there.

“Okay, you're going to be fine. You hear me?” Tommy runs his hand through his hair again. “It’s our time to save you, big man. All you have to do is stay awake.”

Techno refused to go to the medbay, so of course Tommy got Wilbur to come into his room. He sat curled in on himself in the middle of his bed, the two aliens looking at him from the doorway. It was weird not having layers upon layers of clothes blocking out their view. But he tried not to focus on that. Not when his mind was running a mile an hour. They weren’t going to hurt him. Tommy could be lying of course, but he sounded so sure of himself.

It hurt to wonder if the other was just a good liar. “Hello, baby brother.” Wilbur says, his hands holding two sets of medical bags. Tommy held two more. He couldn’t even react to the teasing name, as it warmed him too much to shy away from. Instead he buried more of himself in his knees. Wilbur sighs, walking over. He sets the bags on the ground, Tommy following suit. “Could we get some privacy?” The phantom asks, turning to face Tommy. “Doctor, patient privacy and all that.”

Tommy nods silently, looking between him and Wilbur. “If you two need anything I’ll be out in the hall.” With that—and with the door closing shut—Techno was left alone with yet another crew member.

Wilbur pulls over a chair from the other side of the room, settling down beside him. “I don’t know about you but I didn’t really think this was going to be your first medical examination.” He sighs, running a clawed hand past his bangs. “I’m going to start by saying, everything here will stay between you and me, okay? No one but me will see your medical files or results. Can you nod for me to show that you understand?”

He was tempted to do nothing. Sit with his pain. But the look of pure worry that shone in Wilbur’s eyes, rivalling the time the other thought he was dying, told him it was best to actually go along with this. There wasn’t really a secret to keep anyone. So he nods. Wilbur’s skin speckles with pink. “Good. Some questions, I’ll try to keep them to yes or no. I’ve never had… uh, worked with your species before. So sorry if I offend you at all.” Techno nods.

He can understand. It must be hard going in the medical field when there were so many people outside your own biology you had to treat. “I know this is a stupid question but given the fact you lied a lot on your ID, I’m going to ask anyway to make sure. You're a male of your species, correct?” A nod. Wilbur hums, taking out a notepad from one of his bags. He writes something down quickly before looking back up at him. “Are you twenty five years old?” A pause.

Wilbur looks up at him. He doesn’t nod. Techno bites his bottom lip. “Techno…”

“Twenty three.” He whispers, looking anywhere but at Wilbur. He had to be at least twenty five years old to work with the Astral All Hands Company if he wasn’t using the travel for study but a job. He doesn’t regret lying.

Wilbur looks like he regrets everything. He sucks it up however, jotting it down. “That’s young.” He mutters, shifting in his chair. “Okay, last question before I start the physical.” He nods, straightening a bit in the bed. “How many clothes can we take off for me to help heal you? It jumps from species to species. Tommy doesn’t even need to wear clothes, but he does anyway because he says it’s cool. Is it the same for you?”

Techno shakes his head. It’s a bit of an embarrassing topic but he rather Wilbur asks then not. The other hums. “Can you tell me what you're comfortable with?”

He takes a second to gather himself. Even before space, Techno never really liked doctors. “My shirt is fine.” He starts, tugging on the shirt sleeve. The phantom nods, jotting it down on his notepad. “My pants too, but I rather have them on personally. Everything else is… a no.”

Wilbur nods. “Then can you take your shirt off for me? I need to see the existent of the bruising and do a physical.” Techno looks over as Wilbur bends down and opens up one of four medical bags. Hesitantly he hooks his fingers underneath his shirt and pulls it over his head. His pale skin was littered with purple and yellowing spots. A deep purple one with bordering red irritation sat on his side. It didn’t look good.

The surprised crackling sound from the phantom medic tells him the other thoguht the same. Wilbur shakes his head out, setting some containers and bandages on the side of the bed. “I’m going to need to poke you a bit.” He states, raising his hands. “You can tell me to stop at any time. Your in control here.”

“Okay.” He breaths, moving a bit more so he’s facing the other.

Wilbur brightens. Then he grows a bit more stern, eyes moving up and down his body. Slowly his hands move forward and drift across one of his bruises. Techno tenses, but no pain blooms. Which is weird. There should be at least a bit of pain. At his confused look Wilbur presses a bit harder, still no pain. “Male phantoms can secret a numbing substance from there finger tips.” He teaches, fingers following each bruise. “It’s mostly used to soothe and heal phantomlings, as it’s the fathers who take care of them.”

Male phantom’s take care of children? Thinking about it, it makes a lot of sense. If Phil was the dad of the crew Wilbur was the older brother who acted more like a mom then anything. He couldn’t even count on both of his hands how many times Wilbur’s stopped him from touching or eating something that could be harmful towards him. Tommy doesn’t have a broken bone thanks to the other, from how many times he’s fallen form the ceiling and caught.

“It’s mostly woman who take care of children back—back on Earth.” He says, earning a tentitive chirp from Wilbur.

“I bet Tommy would find that interesting.” Wilbur replies, hands moving to press against his hip. “Tommy’s species abandons there babies the second they can eat solids.” Wait, what? “It’s why Tommy clings so hard to us.” Wilbur looks up past his bangs, flashing him a sharp smile. “No matter the species, he’ll love whoever cares to love him back.”

“I feel targeted.” He whispers, looking away.

“Then I’m doing my job right.” Wilbur chuckles, hands moving off of him. “I don’t feel any breaks, I think. I’m basing your body off my own, as it’s the closest resemblance. So I might be mistaken. Does anything feel broken?” He shakes his head no. “Good, that’s good. Tommy said your hurting though, right?”

“Well, not much here anymore.” He gestures to his stomach, chest and hips. “Your numbing has helped.” Wilbur hums, hands moving to grab and uncap whay looks like some kind of cream. “Everything else is still sore.”

“You got kicked around a lot and self isolation wouldn’t help you at all.” He winces at the jab. “This should help with the discolouration and swelling.” Wilbur spreads some cream over his fingers before pressing it over one of the larger bruises. “Since you’ve been sleeping I don’t think you have a concussion from your head injury. But tell me if you think anything’s wrong.”

Next we’re the bandages. By the time Wilbur was done with him he looked more like a mummy then a patient. “Thanks…” He appreciated the medical help. He felt better already. Tired still. But he doesn’t think that’s a physical issue.

“Your welcome.” Wilbur says, setting his hands in his lap. His tail flicks to the side, anxious. Techno eyes it with suspicion. “You can’t lock yourself up in here like that anymore though.” His eyes widen, head whipping around to face the other. Before he could even say anything Wilbur grabs his hands, thumb rubbing against his knuckles. Instantly he feels relaxed. He’s only noticing the numbness effect now, since he doesn’t have gloves on anymore.

“I’m not saying you can’t have privacy but we were all worried. Self isolation after a traumatic event like that is bad, Techno. Tommy is worried you might be experiencing self depressing behaviours. I think he might be right. You didn’t eat all day today.” Techno couldn’t look away. It was horrible but he loved the worry in the others eyes. Like he was someone worth being cared for.

He stays silent, watching as Wilbur gives him everything he’s ever wanted. “We don’t care your a death worlder, baby brother. I don’t care. What I do care about is you.” He raises his hands to his face and he melts into the touch. “Phil has a therapist on call for you whenever I clear you physically. Your releaved of your duties until then.” A pause, one that he grabs with both of his hands. He holds it, cherishes it. For it’s all that he’s wanted since being kidnapped.

He thinks he’s crying again. Wilbur stands and before he knows it he’s being wrapped in slim and colourful arms. Beinf burried into the alien’s chest. He grips back, fingers digging into the others shirt. “You don’t care.” He sniffles.

“I don’t care.” Wilbur agrees, hand rubbing his back.

“I don’t either.” Techno freezes, head slowly turning to the side. Phil, there captain, was standing in the doorway. Feathers ruffled and looking like he hasn’t gotten an hour of sleep. Wilbur’s arms tighten around him, moving a bit down so he’s able to see the other man better. Phil steps into his room. “I made a promise when I took you on.” He starts, every single one of his eyes on him. “That no matter what, I’ll be here as your captain.”

Techno sniffles. He could feel his heart break in two. “And over the weeks I’ve realized something.” Phil makes it over so he’s stood at the edge of the bed. Hands on the covers as he leans in. “I’ve realized that my flock as grown to fit one more.” No, this can’t be right. He didn’t deserve it.

“You deserve to be here.” Tommy’s voice, head popping in from the hall. He’s smiling, pincers clicking. Techno blinks and before he knows it, he’s surrounded by the crew, his crew. “And your a fucking idiot, to think we’re going to give you up because of where you came from.” More arms wrap around him. He feels love. Devotion. Care.

And he fucking deserves all of it.