Techno realizes that his brother is Spiderman on a random Wednesday afternoon as he's walking home from work.
He's going down Newport, about to turn on Chester and head up the stairs to their apartment, when he hears the familiar thwip of a web and Spiderman falls down from the sky and faceplants on the sidewalk.
"Ow," he groans, pushing himself up. "f*ck. sh*t. Balls."
Techno stares at the guy as he picks himself up off the concrete, shakes himself and then takes a running start before jumping up and webbing away again.
Hell , Techno thinks, who would be clumsy enough to miss grabbing the web that they shot themself?
Then it hits him.
Tommy.
And then, it hits him again. f*ck, sh*t, balls, Spiderman said. Good lord. His little brother is a superhero.
Him and Tommy live together, alone, in a second floor apartment in New York. And since Techno's job as a highschool teacher is pretty much the only thing keeping them afloat, things hardly ever work.
Sometimes they have to kick a pipe under the sink to get the water running, and sometimes the lights just flicker out and they know they won't be back on until morning, so they have to just go to sleep. Sometimes, the building's fire alarm goes off randomly and at least ninety percent of the time there's no fires – except for maybe that one time that their downstairs neighbor, Sapnap, accidently oven baked some clothing.
How, Techno still doesn't understand. Nor does he want to; that guy is insane and Techno tries to avoid talking to him any chance that he gets.
But the point is that their apartment is not the best, and it's because Technoblade is the sole source of money in their home.
It used to be worse, with Techno working three different chain restaurant jobs and coming home and passing out just to do it all over again in three hours – he vividly remembers nights where he couldn't make it to his room and he'd pass out on the nearest flat surface, and wake up with Tommy curled up at his side and a blanket over the two of them – but since Tommy and Niki successfully convinced him to take the teaching job, it's mildly better.
Don't worry about me, Tommy had said when Techno expressed concern about the number of hours he'd be leaving Tommy to his own devices, I'll be fine! I promise!
Technoblade trusted him. And now, Technoblade regrets it.
What do you actually do when you find out that your younger sibling is Spiderman?
Step number one: freak out.
Tommy beats Technoblade home, because of course he does, Tommy just swung across New York in the span of who knows how many seconds, there is no reason why he should be late to anything ever again.
Techno unlocks the front door, comes in over the threshold and stares at the boy lounging on the couch, reading a book, trying to present the perfect picture of casualty. Of course, the image is ruined by the fact that Tommy is dyslexic and hates novels, and, oh yeah, the giant f*cking bruise on his forehead from smacking into the sidewalk.
Good lord.
"Tommy." He says stiltedly.
"Techno!" Tommy cheers, tossing the book aside – which was literally only opened to the table of contents – and jumping up. "You're home!"
His little brother bounces clumsily over to him, all uncoordinated limbs, and slams into his chest, squeezing like a starfish. This has been his routine ever since they've moved here – Techno comes home from work and Tommy greets him like he hasn't seen him in a week. Techno walks in, Tommy tackles him, Techno hugs him and then prys him away so he can go get changed.
This time, Techno settles his arms solidly around Tommy and just – breathes.
Tommy is alright, he thinks to himself, trying to calm his distantly racing heart. Tommy is alive and well. Tommy is Spiderman. Techno is not freaking out. All of these can be factually true statements.
Tommy pulls away slightly, peeking up at him. "Tech?"
f*ck.
"Hey kid," Techno, reluctantly, lets him go. He's cool. Everything is alright. "Missed you today. What happened to your forehead?"
Tommy reaches up to tug a hand through his wild bangs and pull them over his forehead. It does absolutely nothing to hide the bruise, but Techno appreciates the attempt. "I ran into a wall – uh, door. It was swinging – I mean, opening, and I just – hit it."
Wow. Techno has no clue how he hasn't realized before this.
"Someone hit you with a door?" Techno moves to the kitchen and pulls down their beat up kettle. Tommy follows behind, automatically pulling out two chipped mugs and sitting them next to the stove. "Do I need to call the school?"
"No!" Tommy yelps. "I mean, no, of course not. I don't think they weaponized the door against me, Techno. I would know."
"You would know?" And Techno almost goes cause you have just so much experience with weapons, and then he realizes yes, actually, his little brother does have a lot of experience with weapons.
Just last week, Spiderman stopped a jewelry shop thief who had a handgun. Two days before that he cupped his hands around a live grenade and tossed it up into the air before it could go off on the street. Yeah, Tommy has quite a bit of experience with weapons.
He swallows and turns back to the sink, kicking the pipe to get the water running.
"I've seen pictures of knives on the internet, Tech," Tommy chatters, pulling himself up onto the table and kicking his legs. There are bandaids over his knees – bright red and dotted with black, like ladybugs – Techno wonders how they got there. "They're very sharp and shiny. The door was neither of those things. It was made of wood, for one."
Did he get thrown off the back of a villain and go tumbling to the ground? Did he accidentally miss a web and skid all the way to the ground? Did he –
"Techno?"
Techno blinks and he realizes the kettle is flooding over in his hands. "sh*t," he curses, flipping the water off and pouring some out.
"Techno, are you alright?" Tommy asks, and dang, that's his I'm very concerned, and if need be can be more responsible than I often act voice.
Techno heard it a lot in their first couple of weeks alone and during the weird space of time where Techno was too exhausted from working to pretend that everything was fine. It got so bad that at one point, Techno came home to Tommy sitting on the wooden floor with newspapers spread all around him, open to the job ads. He'd offered to drop out and work too, so Techno could rest more, and that's when Techno knew he needed to work on getting something more long-term.
The last thing Techno wants is for Tommy to feel like that again.
"I'm alright," Techno says. Don't lie, he thinks. "Long day is all. Could do with something stress relieving."
"Oh. Guess I should stop talking about knives then, huh?"
Please, Techno thinks. "Probably," he says, flicking the stovetop on. "Do you have any homework? We could read – that might help."
Tommy blows out a dramatic breath. "Uh, I think I do, yeah. Not English, trig. I finished the English in class with Eryn, but I was gonna head to Ranboo's later and see if we could do the math together." He pauses. "If …if that was alright with you."
Actually, Techno would've liked it if Tommy stayed home. He would've preferred to sit on the couch with Tommy's head pillowed against his knee. He would've preferred it if Tommy was at his side, where Techno could see him unharmed and well and breathing.
But Techno's never said no to Tommy going to Ranboo's before, and he doesn't really have a concrete reason to do it now, so –
"Have this cup with me before you leave, let me check over your English." He says, and tries to be content when Tommy jumps up, comes over and bops his head against Techno's arm affectionately.
He's dashing away, out of reach, before Techno can return the sentiment.
Step two: figure out what your brother (Spiderman, the hero Spiderman, the Godforsaken web-slinging, neighborhood saving Spiderman-) knows and what he doesn't.
Tommy leaves with only half of his cup of chamomile finished.
Even still, Technoblade sits at the wooden table and slowly finishes his; just sitting and watching the light dim from outside their living room windows. When he finally moves, Tommy's mug has gone cold and Techno wants to turn in just so he doesn't stay up all night wondering.
He takes the mugs to the sink, washes and dries them methodically, and then – and here is his fatal mistake – flips on the TV, just for a moment.
– the hero Spiderman was just seen off of Saratoga and Sutter, outside of Sam's 99 cent, having webbed up two thieves trying to get away without paying!
The clip cuts to shaky phone footage following a red suit as it swings in, lands in a tumble, and quickly webs the one guy trying to get away to the sidewalk, then catches the other by his bag and yanking him back.
"Come on man," Spiderman – Tommy – says, as he sweeps the man's legs out from under him. " The discounted price isn't already enough for you?"
Techno switches the television off. He stares at the black screen. He stares for a long, long time, and then, he takes a single deep breath.
There are a lot of questions that Techno wants the answers to. A couple that he doesn't. None of the questions are ones he can ask without letting Tommy know what he knows, and he can't let Tommy know that he knows because – well, because if Tommy is already hiding it from him, then confronting him will only make him hide more. If their relationship is fracturing, then Techno won't be the one to press and make it shatter.
But Techno really does have a ton of questions. Why, when, is it my fault? And then the most important question. How?
How does Tommy go out every night?
Where does he keep his suit? Where does he make his webs? How does he know where the late-night muggings are? How does he know what banks are being robbed and when? What kinds of crime has he seen? What does he know that Techno wasn't able to help teach him?
Now, Techno figures, is as perfect a time as any to get some answers.
So, while Tommy is out stopping thieves and webbing up criminals, Techno, cautiously, raids his room. He looks under the bed, in the closet, through Tommy's messy books and papers. There isn't a single piece of Spiderman gear to be found – no merch either. In fact, now that he's thinking about it, Techno can't remember the last time that Tommy even mentioned Spiderman.
Maybe, if he thinks hard enough, he can remember during the first couple of weeks of the hero's existence. Techno can probably remember Tommy showing him a blurry, chance photo that he managed to take on the way home from school, but Techno doesn't remember anything other than that. Tommy doesn't pull up clips, or buy posters, or even sketch little spiders in his notebooks.
Nothing.
In fact, there's so much nothing that it makes Techno suspicious. He puts down Tommy's physics textbook and squints around at his brother's perfectly normal room.
Another question filters into Techno's head: does Tommy have help?
Step three: figure out what you know and what you don't. And when you know what you don't, find a way to start learning it.
Technoblade is a proactive person.
He doesn't like waiting for a problem to arise, he doesn't like being blindsided to an issue; he likes to get in front of things and be prepared to deal with them well before anything gets out of hand.
That's why the Spiderman thing bothered him so much at first. He had zero warning. Tommy just fell face first in front of him, and Techno was forced to just deal with it. And so, he freaked out.
Now, just four days later, Techno thinks he's got a handle on it.
He went to the city library on Friday after work and didn't come out until they made him leave. Even then, he left with armfuls of books and resources. All sorts of stuff, really: medical books, law guides, printed articles on vigilance, self-help psychology novels, law enforcement info-graphics written by police chief Dream himself. Anything Techno could get his hands on, he did.
He bumped the door to their apartment open close to eleven, and trudged inside, breathing heavy from coming up the stairs with what felt like an extra ten tons, and then he stopped.
On the couch, curled up in a blanket, watching Star Wars on mute, was Tommy. He shifted when he heard the door, and blearily poked his head up at Techno. "Tech? S'that you?"
Techno felt like melting. He figured that Tommy would be out, swinging and fighting and doing all the things that he’s been trying not to think about Tommy doing since he started thinking about Tommy doing them. But no, here he was, half asleep on the couch, waiting up for Techno to get home.
"Yeah, kid, it's me," Techno put his books down and shut the door. Tommy turned all the way around, yawning wide enough that Techno could see his teeth. And the bruise peeking out from under his crewneck collar.
"Are you doing another project?" He asked, scrubbing at his eyes. Any guilt that Techno would've had completely disappeared in the face of that mark.
"Yeah," he nudged the stack of books under the table somewhat before stepping over. "Budge over and rewind, I wanna see Anakin."
After finishing the movie with Tommy, and carrying the boy to bed, Techno went back and gathered up his borrowed novels and toted them all to his room. He stacked them by his bed in order of priority: medical, vigilance, law, then self-help.
He put his reading glasses on and cracked open how to treat flesh wounds for dummies.
When Techno first found out that he would be the sole guardian for himself and Tommy, he allowed himself a single day of freaking out before he made himself get over it.
He cried, he paced, he sat on the floor and breathed, but at the end of it Tommy padded up to him and asked what were they going to eat for dinner, so Techno had to just – figure it out.
He fished two faded coupons from the bottom of his bookbag and held Tommy's hand the whole way to the Subway just three blocks away from where they lived. Over their shared toasted turkey flatbread with American cheese, lettuce, onions only on one side and split bag of chips, Techno came to terms with his reality and did what he did best: plan.
He headed to the library, to the corner store magazine stand, to the leaky mom and pop bookstore run by a man called Fundy, just to find anything that he could about children and how to care for them.
Care and attention, one said. Praise and love, said another. Discipline and nurturing, said the third.
Oh, Techno realized, after his third day straight of standing in a ripped bright pink poncho in the pouring rain, huddling over Potential magazine while the stand owner just watched him from under his own umbrella judgmentally. He just needs to love Tommy the way that he always has. That's really all there is to it.
The same apparently applies for when the person you love is a vigilante; all you do is love them just a little bit harder. And Techno was made to love Tommy- he can do that in his sleep.
Vigilantism is a crime in New York, so it makes perfectly logical sense that Dream hates Spiderman.
But, and here's the issue, Spiderman is Techno's brother and no one is allowed to hate Techno's brother, so –
Techno, when he isn't working or walking or looking after Tommy, is writing. He gets stationary from the school – of which he is allowed as many as he wants, perks of being a history teacher – and gets his nicest pen, and sits down at his desk and writes.
Dear esteemed chief of police, this afternoon I was walking home down Riverdale avenue and I saw a robbery taking place right in front of my eyes. The woman was screaming and asking for help and so, I did what any good samaritan would do: I pulled out my phone and I called the cops. Unfortunately, they took too long. By the time they would’ve gotten there, that woman’s purse would have been gone forever – thank God that Spiderman was there, having heard the woman’s cries and gone to get the purse. If he wasn’t there, I don’t know what would have happened.
This, of course, did not actually happen.
Technoblade would not have been able to handle watching Tommy stop and catch a robber, no matter how harmless they are. He would rather go over and make a citizen’s arrest himself than to let Tommy chance fate in that way on his own. Logically, Techno knows that he’s dealt with robberies and muggings and way, way worse – last month, Spiderman stopped a hostage situation where the assailants had alien weaponry – but he's never dealt with any of it where Techno could see him.
But, what the chief of police did not know wouldn't hurt him, so Techno seals up the letter and sends it off, preparing to write another one.
Then another, then another – as many as it takes for Tommy to not need to run from the cops while simultaneously fighting crime.
Step four: make friends – you'll need assistance to handle your Spider-child. Four hands are better than two, even more so if those hands are medically knowledgeable.
When he first started out his journey of single-parenthood, he spent a lot of time focused on Tommy.
Was he eating enough? Was he learning at the same pace as everyone else? Was Techno being a bad influence? Too strict? Too lenient?
He lost a lot of sleep over his little brother, and almost every waking hour was spent thinking of him. It was inevitable that, under the stress, Techno should fall ill – badly ill.
It was bad. Techno didn't get sick often, more prone to sudden bouts of nausea that only lasted for a couple hours whenever he ate something unsavory, but this took him out completely. His head hurt, his body ached, he could hardly breathe without wheezing. It was so awful that to this day he still hardly remembers it – he fell asleep in his bed, and half-woke up who knows how long later shivering, with Tommy and a woman that Techno didn't know standing over him.
Niki was actually their next-door neighbor, not that Technoblade knew it at the time. Tommy, panicked at seeing Techno so sick, started knocking on the doors closest to them, trying to find someone who could help. Niki answered, and was nice enough to come over and check him out – then, upon taking his temperature, determined that he simply needed adequate rest and fluids.
“Is she a doctor?” Techno remembers mumbling once she left the room to go order him some chicken-noodle soup. Tommy, chewing nervously on a hangnail, shook his head.
“I think she owns a coffee shop.”
Which didn’t make any sense to Techno’s addled brain, and still doesn’t – but, once he was better, it was nice to have a new place to go get coffee near their apartment, and a trust-worthy friend to take care of Tommy in case Techno couldn’t.
Since they’ve met, Niki’s been a big help, and an even bigger friend, helping him get a job at the school and watch Tommy on late-night tutoring days. Techno needs another person like that, but unlike Niki, he needs them to have medical experience. The occasional bruises and band-aids are one thing, but Techno notices a wad of bloody tissues in their bathroom trash-can one night and nearly throws up all over their tiled floor.
So. Medical experience. ASAP.
Again, a trip to the library, but this time, he yanks down the dusty yellow-pages, and skims all the entries until he finds what he’s looking for – a medical clinic that is equal distance from their school, Midtown, and their apartment. It’s an urgent care, and when Techno looks it up, it specifically says that they treat anyone as long as insurance can cover it. And, as a bonus, when Techno zooms in on the photos in Google Maps, he sees little Spiderman stickers in their front window.
They’re going to get the surprise of a lifetime over there.
After a day of work where Phil and George both kept asking him why he was so distracted, Techno walks the three blocks down to the urgent care and goes inside. The Spiderman stickers are still there in person, and it’s fairly empty with just one curly-haired brunette sitting at the front desk. He’s hunched over a clipboard with a black landline tucked between his ear and his shoulder – although, when he sees Techno, he sits up and smiles like he’s genuinely happy to see him.
Techno catches sight of his nametag. Wilbur.
He waits when Wilbur puts up a finger, and lets his gaze travel along the interior of the clinic. There are chairs lined up along the wall, only broken by a side-table with magazines stacked on top. Everything seems to be in place, from the stone tiled flooring to the encouraging cliche animal posters on the walls. And even Wilbur himself, who’s desk has a mason jar full of dumdums and a little Spiderman figurine.
Techno bets that every kid who walks out of here with a shot does so with a cherry lollipop and a Spiderman themed band-aid.
Perfect.
“Hi,” Wilbur says once he’s off the phone. “How can I help you? Do you want to schedule a physical, or a vaccination?”
“Um, no. I actually just had a few questions.” Wilbur nods, that smile still in place, so Techno goes on. “How do you…treat people?”
Wilbur’s brow wrinkles a little. “Like…medically? How do we do it?”
“No, no, I mean – how – uh, what are your opinions on different types of people?”
Wilbur’s smile disappears completely. “I’m sorry, but are you asking if we’re discriminatory? Because let me tell you, we treat everyone who comes in here the same – no matter who they are.” And Techno can tell that he just struck a bit of a nerve so he’s quick to deny.
“No, that’s – that’s not what I meant, I – sorry.” Techno winces. Best to just rip the Spiderman themed band-aid off. “What I meant was, if, say, Spiderman were to come in looking for treatment, then –” He trails off.
Wilbur stares at him. The seconds tick by and Techno steadily turns pink. “Oh!” He says finally. “Oh, you’re being serious. I was waiting for you to – okay, well, um, if Spider-man were to come in needing medical help, I would be required to treat him just the same way I treat any other patient. Confidential, quality care. Although, most of his injuries might be better suited to an actual ICU.” Wilbur pauses, his head tilting slightly. “Why do you ask?”
Ah.
“Uh – just curious.” He blurts. “I’m – I’m doing a study. Yeah, that’s it. I’m researching the Spiderman phenomenon. It’s fascinating. Really.”
Wilbur doesn’t seem impressed. Techno is starting to understand where Tommy’s inability to lie comes from.
“Okay, well,” Wilbur reaches across his desk and pulls out a card. Two. “Here is my card. One for you and the other for … anyone else who might need it. You can call that number anytime, and someone – probably me or my co-worker Puffy – will pick up, okay?”
“Okay,” Techno nods stiffly, taking the cards. “Thank you, Wilbur.”
“No problem – “ Wilbur raises his eyebrows expectantly and Techno goes, “Techno.”
“It was very nice to meet you, Techno.” He says. “I hope you put those cards to good use.”
He does.
He slides one of the cards under Tommy’s door, and slowly, the tissue paper and band-aids in their bathroom stop disappearing, and two weeks later, when he walks by the clinic on the way home from school, he notices the brand-new Spidey posters replacing the cliche animals ones on the wall.
Good.
Step five: become a fan. Possibly the biggest. Spiderman will need it.
Before, Technoblade will admit, he was pretty indifferent to Spiderman.
He didn’t hate the guy, but he certainly didn’t adore him. Techno has never been pulled from a flaming bus, or been saved from plummeting to his death by a sticky web before, so as long as the hero didn’t destroy the sidewalk that Techno walked to get to his job in the morning, he didn’t think on the web-slinger.
Phil loves Spiderman. So does Niki, and Jack, who runs the coffee shop with her. Often, when Techno goes out to get drinks with the lot of them, the conversation will take some sort of turn into the hero's latest exploits around the neighborhood. Techno had no clue how they were following his movements so closely, but then Phil flashed his phone screen at Techno.
"Twitter," he said, "I don't normally use it, but Kristin really loves sending me funny things she finds, and there's this Spiderman update account that is shockingly accurate."
"And," Niki cut in, "they'll sometimes have videos. I don't know who the admins are, but they're scarily accurate. If I didn't know that Spidey could handle himself, I'd be worried that he has a stalker."
"Better than Bad," Jack mumbled, nursing his beer, "I swear that guy can't stand Spiderman. Any chance he gets to talk sh*t about him, he will."
Techno squinted. "Who's Bad?"
Bad, apparently, is a local journalist who has dedicated his career to flaming Spiderman in news blogs and on his YouTube channel. In watching him after coming home, Techno found himself frowning more and more. None of this stuff was even true – Spiderman was not a menace, mainly because he couldn't be. Tommy was an angel.
Well, on the rare occasions that he wasn't being a little sh*t. But still.
Techno didn't realize that there were people who didn't like Spiderman other than Dream, but in skimming the comments, he realized they were in abundance. Not the majority, of course, but enough that it managed to bother Techno. Which meant that it most likely managed to bother Tommy.
Why do you have so much Spidey merch out? Techno asked Wilbur once, peering across the clinic at the Spiderman mug Puffy had her hands curled around.
Because, Wilbur shrugged, kid's just trying to do right by the world. He doesn't deserve all the sh*t he gets for it. He needs to know that there are people in his corner.
It makes him realize that he actually can't afford to not be a fan of Spiderman. As Spiderman's legal guardian, who's opinion will matter more to Tommy than his?
So, Techno gets a Spiderman hoodie. And a pin. And a poster. He follows all the Twitter update accounts, and sends hate mail to Bad whenever he can. He replaces the mug on his desk at school with one that has a spider printed onto the side, and pretends that he doesn't notice when Tommy stares at it when he drops by Techno's classroom.
"Do you believe all that stuff?" Tommy asks him once after dinner, looking more nervous than necessary, watching Techno watch Bad's latest stupid spiel about how Spiderman is a menace to New York. "What they say about Spiderman? You know, that he's bad for people?"
Techno frowns thoughtfully. How does he put this so that Tommy will never doubt again that Techno is on his side?
"No," he says after a moment of thinking. "I don't believe them. I think that Spiderman, whoever they are, is someone just trying their best to help people. And maybe they'll make mistakes, but that's only because they're human. I could never be upset with someone for trying. Especially when the world is so dead-set on not."
That nervous wrinkle in Tommy's brow eased, and Techno hid his smile behind his mug.
step six: become silent support when things go wrong.
The news doesn't do a terribly good job of covering it, but Techno knows as soon as he turns on the program that it's bad.
There's something about a ferry out in the harbor and lazers going wild and not nearly enough life savers. Apparently, Spiderman couldn't save them all and keep the ship together and fight off assailants. From what they're reporting, there are three confirmed dead and two missing, and the hero is trying to help locate them.
It's probably the one time that the police and the vigilante will work side by side, and Techno, sitting on the couch with one eye on the news and the other on his phone, prays that it sticks. He also prays that Bad and all those other people who dislike Spiderman and love to tear open every single mistake he makes will take a rest for tonight.
Techno doesn't rest though. Even after the news resorts to just repeating themselves about the incident and even after the sky gets dark, Techno sits there. He texts Niki goodnight, tells Phil that they're both safe, and sits up, waiting.
His eyes get heavy, and the clock hits one, and he has class to teach tomorrow, but still, he waits.
Finally, when he's on the brink of passing out, he hears Tommy's window open. Techno immediately shuts off the television, not wanting Tommy to hear anymore about the accident.
Techno waits, listens to Tommy shuffle around slowly in his room. He hears the bedroom door and the floorboards creak, then the bathroom. There's the rustling of clothing and the running of water, and then silence for a long moment.
Techno picks up a book and pretends to be engrossed, not reacting when he hears footsteps. There's a pause, as if Tommy is watching him from the doorway, and then he's coming closer.
Techno looks up.
Tommy is freshly showered, dressed in one of Techno's old shirts and some sweatpants. He's got a bandaid over his cheek, which is good, because he saw Wilbur, but that isn't what makes Techno stare. What does are Tommy's eyes.
They're shaded and dull, and just like that, Tommy suddenly looks so, so much older than sixteen. He looks like he's seen years and years of wars in his one short lifetime.
"Tommy," Techno whispers.
Tommy doesn't respond, not verbally at least. All he does is step closer, and Technoblade immediately lifts his arm, letting Tommy press close and curl up small at his side.
"It's alright," Techno says softly, holding Tommy firmly. Tommy seems to shrink, melting into Techno's side like he's trying to hide. That's perfectly alright – if need be, then Techno can be anything for Tommy, including the place where he can hide. "Want me to read to you?"
Techno feels Tommy nod, then bury his face into Techno's shirt. Techno clears his throat and reads. He reads until Tommy relaxes fully, he reads until Tommy's breathing deepens, he reads even longer after that, just to ward off any nightmares that might linger.
When he finally stops reading, he simply holds Tommy, and in the morning, when the apartment around then turns golden, he calls ahead to the school, declaring them both sick.
Spiderman needs the rest.
step seven: pick up where he leaves off. (And, if need be, let others do the same)
They take the day to be lazy and call it a mental health break.
Techno pulls out puzzles, and they quietly sit on the floor putting them together. Tommy wraps a blanket around his shoulders and doesn't move from Techno’s sight for virtually the entire afternoon.
It's exactly what Techno would have wanted four weeks ago. Like this though, he wishes that he never gotit at all.
“You should go check if you have to do make up work,” Techno murmurs after Tommy makes it though half a sandwich and a cup of tea. Tommy nods slowly, giving in easily, and Techno worries, watching the way he walks away.
This is the part that Techno hates. Feeling useless. All the books and clinics and knowledge he could ever obtain would never help with this. He has no clue what to do except put on another pot of water, and refill Tommy’s mug.
As he’s getting up, the door rings, so he puts the mug down and heads to see who it is. He frowns as he opens the door. Tommy’s friends from school, Ranboo and Tubbo, are standing there in the hall, wearing backpacks and matching pensive expressions.
“Where’s Tommy?” Tubbo demands. Ranboo, who Techno’s always believed was the most sensible one out of all of them, winces.
“Hello Mr. Blade,” he cuts in, tugging at Tubbo’s arm gently. That may quiet the kid, but it certainly doesn’t stop him from glaring like Techno is hiding Tommy away from them. “Can we please come in?”
“It’s the middle of fourth period,” Techno says in lieu of an answer.
Ranboo winces again, but Tubbo’s jaw sets. “Well, Tommy isn’t at school either, now is he? And neither are you.”
Then it hits him. They know. They have to know. Tubbo’s aggressive insistence. Ranboo’s nervous, careful speech. They know and they don’t know that Techno knows. They’re worried about Tommy because of yesterday – Techno’s willing to bet his salary on the fact that when Tommy didn’t show up for homeroom this morning, they both immediately began shooting him probing text message after probing text message.
Tommy, of course, has been avoiding his phone and any form of social media like the plague.
Techno sighs then steps aside. “I can’t argue with that. Come on in.” Tubbo immediately brushes by, whereas Ranboo ducks his head awkwardly before slipping in. When Techno closes the front door, Tommy’s bedroom opens and he peeks out.
“Tech?” He asks, sounding small. “Who’s –”
He stops, and the three of them stare at each other. Then, at the same time, Tubbo and Tommy step forward, and before Techno can blink, they’re wrapped around each other, squeezing like they’ll both disappear if they don’t hold tight. Tommy is taller than Tubbo, always has been, but the way he ducks down around the kid almost allows him to disappear there, and it’s only helped by the way that Tubbo tries to envelop him with everything he’s got.
“Ranboo –” Tubbo demands, and Techno is alarmed to see the way that Tommy’s shoulders shake. They are hidden from view when Ranboo goes over and completes the trio. The tallest of all of them, curling his arms around them to tuck Tommy away.
Techno steps back into the kitchen, letting them have their privacy. He’ll put on a whole pot of tea.
Later, Midtown’s bell is ringing, and three of its students are sitting on Techno’s couch, half watching a nature documentary about insects and half looking over their history textbooks.
Well, Ranboo is looking over his books. Tubbo is holding Tommy’s hand and trying to convince Techno to make him coffee instead of tea.
“Look,” Techno says, refusing to be touched by the sight of Tommy leaning his head against Tubbo’s shoulder and Tubbo, automatically leaning back, “I’m already going to have to come up with an excuse as to why you guys ditched class to come over to my house. I’m going to have to tell your parents and –”
“Tubbo’s mom thinks he’s at mine, and my dad thinks I’m at his,” Ranboo says easily, not even looking up from his European History classbook.
Tubbo smirks. “Bet you didn’t expect that, now did you, Technoblade?”
“Phil is going to call me and tell me that all three of you didn’t show up,” Techno complains, very, very close to whining. “Because all the teachers in that school know when the three of you don’t show up, it’s because you’re all together.”
Tubbo rolls his eyes. “Mr. Watson adores Tommy. He’s Phil’s favorite student.”
Tommy goes red.
Techno decides to just give this round over to Tubbo. Clearly there’s no winning here. “Fine,” he says. “But I want you guys out of here before six. If I get angry calls from your parents, then I’m – “ never letting you guys come over again, but Tommy still seems so…fragile. He’s tucked in between his friends like if they get even an inch apart, then he’ll start silently crying like earlier. “ – going to start charging you two rent.”
“Ranboo’s rich,” Tubbo waves off. Ranboo blinks.
“Ranboo is what?”
Tommy laughs, just a quiet huff of a thing, but it’s there, and all three of them make equally relieved expressions. That helpless feeling loosens in his gut, and mentally, Techno sends a thank you to Tommy’s crazy, stupid, undoubtedly reckless friends.
He couldn’t have picked better people to trust with his identity.
step eight: learn to coupon. Or, at the very least, figure out where the free-food will be.
Before Techno had a steady, well-paying job, he was always careful with money.
Food-stamps and coupons were his best friends on the very, very bad days where he would have to choose between stocking the fridge and keeping the water on. He’d get by on power-bars and food from the one fast food job he kept. He was careful to make sure that Tommy ate his fill, thankfully, Midtown offered free lunches, so that was at least one thing he never had to worry about.
When he got his teaching position, he figured that he wouldn’t have to do that ever again.
And then Tommy became Spiderman.
Still a little lost on how that happened, but all Techno knows for sure is that one day Tommy was content with his school lunch and whatever Techno could make for dinner, and then the next day he wasn’t. He figured it was just extra special puberty – teenagers are bottomless pits, and with Tommy’s growing list of friends always coming over and raiding Techno’s cabinets, he was basically throwing his money into their mouths, but no.
Tommy is always hungry now. Always.
He eats three bowls of pasta and two slices of garlic bread and tries to spear some of broccoli off Techno's plate. He takes two sandwiches in his lunch and comes home to devour an entire bag of grapes. For breakfast, which he used to skip because he was always late, he now tears through a box of Eggo waffles and makes eyes at Techno's fruit smoothies.
The kid is ravenous, and Techno doesn't have nearly enough coupons for him.
"How would you feel about a Spiderman day?" Techno asks, trying not to feel like he's scheming.
"Spiderman day?" Niki frowns. She's careful and quick as she stacks the cups that she just finished washing. "What do you mean?"
"To celebrate the hero. Foolish's diner four blocks down does spider-pie Fridays, and the amount of customers he gets sky-rockets."
"Free pie?" Jack exclaims, bustling by with a tray full of dirty cups and plates. "Tech, why haven't you said something before?"
"Because he's smart enough to not let Foolish poach my people," Niki says pointedly, raising an eyebrow. Techno ducks a bit, sheepish.
"Well. I mean, Foolish's coffee sucks."
"Here, here," Jack cheers from the back. "You can say that again."
"I'll think about it," she says, nudging a plate with a cinnamon roll on it at Techno. "Eat this before I kick you out." Techno blinks, then fumbles for his wallet, before he's pinned by her glare. "And put that thing away before I kick you out twice."
Niki actually does Spider-day.
Free lattes and a jumbo cookie to every person who comes to the Cafe wearing Spidey merch. To show our webbed hero how much we adore him, Jack wrote on the sign, along with a bunch of smiley faces and star stickers. Techno showed up after his shift, and was shocked by how many people were tucked into the small space in Spidey tees, hats, and full-on costumes.
"Hey," Jack says, once again rushing by, with a plate full of jumbo sugar cookies decorated like Spiderman, "great idea Tech – make sure that you bill Niki for the idea!"
Techno huffs, then finds a table in the corner to sip his latte. He sees Phil walk by, hand firmly in Kristin's, both of them with Spiderman hoodies. He sees Sam, with his keys on a Spiderman lanyard, and Puffy and Wilbur, wearing matching spider beanies.
And then, he spots Tubbo, only he doesn't recognize him in his full Spiderman costume. Following him is Ranboo, in pajamas, and trailing slowly behind them is Tommy, looking around with wide eyes, dressed…like himself.
Well, not himself-Spiderman, but himself-Tommy.
"Boys!" Niki cheers, somehow mixing three different lattes at once. "Lovin' the spider-gear! Find Jack and get yourself a cookie!"
"See, Tommy," Tubbo hisses out of the corner of his mask, "you should've dressed up."
"I don't have any Spiderman merch, Tubs."
"You do," he argues, and when Tommy opens his mouth to argue, he leans in more. " You do."
" Tubbo," Tommy hisses back. "I'm not wearing the suit to get a cookie. I'd rather just buy a cookie." Then he smiles, casting his eyes over the room. "Besides, it's nice just to see all this, you know?"
Techno stands and makes his way over. When Tubbo sees him, his eyes widen – which, weirdly, Techno can still tell even under the mask. Apparently they made the costume Spiderman just as expressive as the real one. Very impressive.
"Oo–" Tubbo ducks behind Tommy. "I'm gonna go find Ranboo. And a cookie."
He leaves, and Techno watches him go with a slight chuckle. "Good day at school?"
"Good day after school," Tommy corrects, still looking slightly dazed. "This is beyond cool. Is that Mr. Watson over there?"
Techno's smile grows. "Yeah, it is. And I'm sure I saw George somewhere in the corner pretending he isn't wearing a Spiderman tie."
" George?" Tommy gapes, and Techno feels such an intense urge to hug him that his fingers twitch. He manages to hold back because then he'd have to explain why he's so happy that Tommy is seeing all this Spider support, and that would be a… complicated conversation, to say the least. "Wow. I'm– wow. I didn't know so many people I knew liked Spiderman."
"Loves," Techno corrects. And then he takes the Spiderman enamel pin off his tie and carefully pins it onto Tommy's sweatshirt. "There you go. Go get yourself a cookie Tommy. You deserve it."
Tommy blinks at him, his eyes welling with tears. Techno almost expects it when Tommy falls against him, wrapping his arms around Techno's middle tight – Lord, they really weren't kidding when they'd talk about that super strength. Ribs protesting, Techno hugs back and lets Tommy swipe his tears on his sweater-vest.
Step nine: don't freak out.
Here's a note about getting kidnapped.
Maybe it goes without saying, but it sucks.
First off, he was late leaving the school because he was filing grades for the last day of the semester. It was raining, and he left his coat at home, so he was already wet and tired. And then he gets clobbered upside the head and tossed into a – probably disgusting – van.
And if getting kidnapped wasn't bad enough, tonight he was supposed to be hosting their friends at his place. He was gonna make a bunch of spaghetti and garlic bread. He texted Tommy to start cutting the cucumbers. God, he's gonna be so mad to find out he's cutting them up for nothing.
Now, instead of boiling noodles in salted water, Techno is tied to a chair in a cliche damp warehouse. This, he guesses, is what he gets for being a loud-and-proud Spiderman fan.
(Not that he would ever change anything about that in the slightest.)
He's lucky, probably, because the people who grabbed him up don't seem very aggressive or anything. They don't seem to be that villainous either. In fact, other than tie him to this chair and just happen to be holding guns, they're not talking to him or threatening him or hurting him.
" – this is why I never trust you with technology, man, you don't have any –"
" – I got it, I got it. Look, let me just – "
"The red light means record. Why isn't there any red light?"
"The thing is broken. I didn't break it. You're gonna blame me for this, but I didn't–"
"Of course I'm gonna blame you. Of course I am."
Techno sighs. If they didn't take his phone, he'd call the police himself, but –
Just as he's thinking it, a web shoots down from the dark ceiling, grabs the one guy and yanks him up out of view.
"Holy sh*t!" The second guy fumbles for his handgun, but before Techno can even start to get worried, another web is coming and ripping it from his hands. Weirdly, no quip accompanies it, and Techno tries not to feel disappointed about it.
Finally he's comfortable enough with Tommy being Spiderman to not freaking out seeing his brother in battle, and Tommy isn't even making it fun like normal. Kind of rude, but okay. Techno guesses it was a little f*cked of him to get kidnapped on pasta night.
Following the gun, the second guy is easily restrained and left dangling from the ceiling beside his partner. Then and only then does Tommy drop down from the ceiling shadows, his mask in its proper place over his face. He's moving weirdly as he skitters over to Techno, and only when his brother is directly in front of him, does Techno realize he's shaking.
"T– uh – sir, are you alright? Are you – you're not hurt, are you? Oh God, I'm so – I'm so sorry, you – "
Tommy's panicking, Techno realizes, with his shaking gloved hands fluttering over Techno's restrained body like he has no clue what to do with it. He's half a breath away from a full blown panic attack, so Techno shushes him gently.
"Hey," he says. "Calm down. Breathe. Breathe. You're okay. I'm okay. I'm not hurt, I promise. I swear that I'd tell you if I was."
Tommy inhales haltingly, and then exhales slowly. And Techno isn't the one with the enhanced senses, but he swears he can hear Tommy's heartbeat slow in his chest.
"Right," Tommy whispers, then steps around to break the ropes keeping Techno down. As soon as Techno is free, Tommy is slamming into him, again squeezing so hard that Techno is about to be injured. "God," he's saying into Techno's button-down. "I'm so sorry, I'm so – I thought –"
Easily Techno hugs back, wrapping him up. Spiderman or not, Superhero or not, Techno will always hug him back. "It's okay. Everything's alright, Tommy. I promise. I'm safe now."
Tommy's whispers abruptly die, and he pulls back slowly, stiff as a board. When Techno can look into the eyes of the mask again, they're wide as saucers.
"...Who is Tommy?" He asks, and Techno suddenly realizes his mistake.
"Uh – " Techno's eyes flicker up to the men tied to the ceiling. "I don't– Did I say Tommy? I don't think that I did. I think I said Spiderman. I'm sure that – " Techno clears his throat. "Shouldn't you be calling the cops on those guys?"
Tommy stares at him. Slowly though, without taking his eyes off Techno, he steps back, nodding.
"Yeah," Tommy says distantly, sounding dazed. "I'll call them. And you should get checked out just to be sure you don't have a concussion." Then, as if an afterthought, he adds, "sir."
Techno smiles his most I don't know your secret identity smile and prays that it works.
Spoiler alert: It doesn't.
He gets home from the hospital within the hour because he is, as he said, perfectly unhurt other than a slight headache.
He's got a barrage of worried texts from Tommy from before he showed up as Spiderman, but there hasn't been a single one since then. He's trying to be optimistic about it, but he knows that Tommy knows he knows – which, wow, confusing. Tommy isn't the best liar and neither is he, which makes sense considering they aren't meant to be lying to each other.
Techno climbs up the stairs and hesitates in front of their apartment door. Tommy might be mad, or upset, or not even here. He might still be out in his suit, with Ranboo and Tubbo on the other line, ignoring everything that happened and hoping that it blows over.
He takes a breath and unlocks the door.
Inside, it's quiet, and a bit cold – Techno can tell that a window is open somewhere in the apartment. His heart sinks, and he resigns himself to a night staying up and pretending he isn't worrying, but then he takes another step in and sees Tommy, sitting on the counter, legs swinging, eating a bowl of sliced cucumbers.
"Hey Techno," he greets, sounding forcibly calm. "How was your day?"
Techno hesitates. "My day was…okay." He turns and puts his bag down. "I – uh – well, I finished grading. And I also got kidnapped and then saved by Spiderman."
"Oh," Tommy nods seriously, "I heard that can happen."
Techno grins, suddenly too fond for his own good. "Yeah." He steps into the kitchen. "You know, I'm glad he was there. I owe him a lot, that guy. He saves me more than he might know. Every day."
Tommy's quiet for a moment.
Techno turns, fills their pot up with water and puts it down onto the stove to be boiled, because kidnapped or not, they're gonna have pasta on pasta night. He's so focused on what he's doing that he almost misses it when Tommy speaks.
"I'm sure that he owes you a lot too," he says softly.
Techno looks at him. Tommy's pink, but there's the slightest glimmer of relieved tears in his eyes. Happy to be done lying, Techno knows, he feels it too.
"I love you, Tommy." Techno says. "Nothing could change that. Ever."
"Spider and all?"
"Spider and all." There's a beat in which they both just look at each other, equally overwhelmed. "Plus, you cut the cucumbers, so I really can't not love you."
"Phil says double negatives are bad."
"What about triple negatives?"
"...I guess they're okay."
"Then I really can't not unlove you."
"I don't think that makes sense."
"You become Spiderman and suddenly you know everything? I don't think that's how it works."
Tommy giggles, then slides off the counter to knock his forehead affectionately against Techno's arm. "I'm glad that I don't have to lie to you anymore," he says. "Even if you knew, like, the whole time. And helped me a lot."
Techno ruffles his hair. "I always will. Now you help me – go grab the meat. And call your friends. It's not too late for them to come over and eat my entire kitchen."
Tommy beams.
Step eleven: the most important step – trust that he's got this.
Techno catches Tommy about to squeeze out of their window, mask half on and eyes huge.
"Uh – hey." Tommy says awkwardly.
Techno's heart, thankfully, has learned not to race when seeing his little brother dangling from tall heights. "Hi, Tommy. Be safe, okay? And have Wilbur text me if you need to see him."
Tommy nods. Tilts forward slightly. "Is that…all?"
"I love you." Techno smiles. "Have fun saving New York."
Tommy's grin brightens. "I will! I love you too." Then he falls out the window and swings away.
