Chapter Text
Dream clutched the side of his neck and grimaced. How was he supposed to explain what had happened? What had to happen now? How would George and Sapnap take it? Would they—
Nope. Not overthinking this. He let his hand fall from his pulsing neck. It would be fine. He wasn’t a vampire or zombie or anything. He was…a little old for this. But apparently the server had found it funny to infect him, and now he was presenting. Like a pup. And he needed…he needed pack. George and Sap would understand. He would be fully in control of his faculties. The new instincts would only make him a little more protective and sensitive.
He wasn’t going back to the End any time soon.
“Oh, Dream. You’re back,” George said as Dream entered their shared home. A crooked, stretched smile tilted under round white shades. George grabbed a pickax that had been leaning in the doorway. “Sap made dinner a while ago. It’s in the kitchen. Feel free to eat the leftovers. I have to go do some mining. I’ll be back later.”
“Where’s Sap?” asked Dream.
“Oh, you know. Around. Think he said something about hanging out with Bad or something. Catching up and all that,” George answered, brushing by Dream and exiting the house. The goggled man lifted up a hand and gave a backwards wave. “See you later.”
“Wait! I have to tell you—”
“Tell me later!” George called, the growing distance muffling his words. “Gotta get this done now!”
And then he was out of sight. Dream frowned, and his hand gripped the side of his neck. He’d message them to meet up later. Maybe check on what Sap was up to. Hopefully he was actually hanging out with his dad and not off causing destruction somewhere.
He sat on the second to last step and watched the door. They should be back soon. They agreed to meet him here before dinner. A whine caught in Dream’s throat as five more minutes passed. He bit it back and pushed the instincts down. They were growing more and more difficult to reign in. But hopefully with pack, they would calm. He’d need to release his hold on them around George and Sap, around pack. But then they would calm. George and Sap would understand.
To distract himself, Dream mentally tallied how things on the server currently stood. L’Manberg was holding an election which given what Dream had learned, Wilbur and Tommy were set to lose. Letting Schlatt in the server had been a big mistake on their part, but it was their country. As long as he had Tommy’s discs to keep them from attacking the Greater SMP, he wouldn’t get involved. In fact, Schlatt wanted George as his vice president so that would hopefully help George get over the whole dethronement thing.
The whine did escape Dream at the realization of exactly how much George had been avoiding him since then. And Sap had barely talked to him since then. But they got mad at him sometimes. They always got over it later. Dream ran a hand through his hair before gripping it and forcing the instincts to stop. Just stop.
He’d explain what happened to George and Sap, explain what he was going to ask of them, and they…they would see. They would understand how much they meant to him. He…he had thought about pushing them away, but now thanks to the server he couldn’t. He’d have to…he’d have to show them how much he trusted them. How much of his heart they held.
Remind them that he saw them as family. That they were his brothers in all but blood.
The door hadn’t moved. But it would. And then everything would be all right.
Minutes passed. Hours. The moon shown in through the windows. The door didn’t move.
A whine turned into a growl, and he stood up and dashed to his room. He shut the door and howled. He slapped his hands over his masked mouth. But the next howl pierced the silence only slightly less than the one before it. He slumped onto the floor and curled his head into his knees. The next howl gurgled, and the inside of his mask slipped down his cheeks on the growing moisture. The last howl transitioned into a high-pitched whine.
Where were they? Why weren’t they here? Were they okay? He—he needed them. He’d asked. He knew they were mad, but they said they would be here.
The whines petered out, and the instincts grew feral. Pack…pack had to be trustworthy. They said they would be here. They weren’t. They couldn’t be pack.
But then…who could?
Sapnap strode into the house eagerly. He hurried up the stairs and pounded on Dream’s door.
“Dream! Open up! You gotta hear this!”
Nothing came from the other side of the door, so Sapnap threw it open.
“The Pogtopians lost the election!”
The room was empty.
“Dream?” Sapnap called, looking around in case his best friend had hidden somewhere. In his own room. He groaned quietly as his forehead met his hand. Pushing back his momentary lapse of judgement, he pulled out his communicator. Typing out a message, he waited for a response. A familiar beep sounded from the direction of Dream’s bed. He walked to Dream’s bedside and caught sight of the green communicator. Panic clawed up his throat.
“George!” he yelled, dashing out of Dream’s room.
“What?!” snapped the reply from the room next to Dream’s. George’s head popped out of his door. “Why are you so loud this morning?”
“Have you seen Dream?”
“No. I had a lot on my mind after the election thing at L’Manberg,” George grumble. “Fell asleep after dealing with all that.”
“Yeah, well, I was working something out with Fundy with ending the whole Pet War thing and it ran long. Ended up staying at Fundy’s overnight. Then on the way back, I ran into Eret and Niki who told me about the election results. Congratulations by the way. I heard you were named co-vice president.”
“I was, more or less,” George said with a yawn. “I think I have a meeting with Schlatt and Quackity at some point later today.”
“Did you hear about Tommy and Wilbur’s plan for revolution? They apparently have already set up a new nation called Pogtopia to prepare to take Schlatt down.”
“Huh. I guess I should let Schlatt and Quackity know. Though I bet they know already.”
“Probably. I ran here as soon as I heard to tell Dream, since I know he’ll want to keep an eye on the situation. Hopefully I can convince him to do something about Tommy and Wilbur before those two cause more problems on the server. They lost the election fair and square. They’re just being sore losers at this point.”
“And Dream isn’t in his room?” George asked, pulling himself fully out into the hallway. He rubbed an eye under his goggles. “You sure? I thought he was here yesterday.”
“Wait. Didn’t he message us something about needing to talk to us before dinner?” Sapnap said as his brow furrowed. “I completely forgot. Fundy sent the message to meet up right after that.”
“He did. He actually mentioned something similar to me yesterday when he got back from wherever he goes to commune with the server,” George scowled. “Probably some coding thing he needs our help with.”
“Couldn’t have needed our help too badly. He had to have left early this morning, and he even left his comm here,” Sapnap said. A frown tugged at his lips, but he shrugged. “He’ll probably tell us what it was when he gets back.”
“If he thinks we need to know, I’m sure he will.” The scowl remained on George’s face a second longer before a yawn stretched it out. “Well, since you woke me up, you might as well make me breakfast.”
“Make your own breakfast. I’m going to go see what Bad knows about this Pogtopia,” Sapnap said.
“But I can’t make pancakes like you do,” George whined. Somehow his eyes widened large enough to be seen through his darkened lenses. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Fine. Pancakes, and then I’m on my way,” Sapnap said as he headed back down the stairs.
“Yes!” George cheered, and he swung an arm around Sapnap’s shoulders. “You’re the best!”
“And don’t you forget it,” Sapnap grinned. He ignored the lopsided nature of the weight across his shoulder. The lack of another arm latching around his neck tightly and echoing George’s words. If Dream wanted to be busy, let him. He’d regret it when he realized he was missing Sap’s world famous pancakes.
He would make sure not to leave any leftovers this time.
The sun glared into Dream’s face. Dream curled further into himself and steadied his breaths. Another tear pricked the side of his eyes and slid down his face. He wiped at it, but a whine vibrated out his throat. He hated it. He hated this. Why had the server done this?
He bit the inside of his cheek hard and tried to regain control of himself. The night had been a blur of scenes and emotions, but he could feel his soul calling out still. The enchanting table nearby crackled, and green eyes dully slid towards it. Oh. The enchantment was ready. He stood on wobbly legs and leaned over the table. He picked up the mask under the open book and shoved it back on his face. Every emotion vanished from his chest, and his heart no longer burned.
Good. He didn’t need pack. The server was wrong. And he would show it. He could do this without. He could. As long as his mask stayed on, he wouldn’t feel. He wouldn’t be a slave to the instincts forced on him. He would guard and protect the server on his own.
Dream reached down for his communicator, but his hand wrapped around nothing. Huh. That was an inconvenience. But he had other ways of watching the server. He’d start by finding Punz. Pretty sure the man could be trusted if given enough diamond blocks.
No need to go check on George or Sapnap. They were busy. And they couldn’t be trusted. Dream hummed to himself. Huh. The thought wasn’t sharp. It didn’t hurt. It was the truth.
Nodding, Dream hurried off to proceed with his plan.
Techno stood before the admin of the server and smirked surrounded by many items. Being on good terms with the admin was a must if you wanted to get anywhere when starting out on a new server.
Not that Techno would know. He generally only ticked admins off.
“Thank you, Dream,” Techno said as he picked things up and dropped them into his inventory. He tossed out a boat by mistake in his hurry but no big deal. He’d make another one. He didn’t want the admin changing his mind. “I’ll put this all to good use.”
Dream didn’t nod. The comm didn’t ping like it had earlier with messages from Dream. Techno vaguely wondered why the admin hadn’t, you know, used his voice to communicate. Probably for some super serious secrecy reasons. He didn’t really care.
Leaping off the cliff they were standing on and onto the ground, Dream dove past Techno. As he passed, Techno caught an unobstructed glimpse of his face in side profile. And his neck. Techno’s stomach bottomed out, and the man’s arm lurched out and grabbed the back of the admin’s hoodie.
The smiling mask turned as if to glare at Techno. So much for not ticking this admin off. But he had to make sure. The voices would drive him crazy otherwise.
Before the other could protest, Techno pulled the admin closer and pressed his nose to the base of the admin’s neck. The admin tensed at the sudden, invasive action but didn’t move. Techno snorted and pulled away. He had seen correctly.
“Where’s your pack?” Techno said, his instincts making his voice gruff and hard.
“I don’t know how that would be any of your concern,” came an entirely too young-sounding voice. Okay. Worse than he thought.
The kid struggled in his grip, but Techno only tightened it.
“‘let, tell me where your pack is now,” Techno growled. He inwardly flinched at using the voice on a ‘let however old the presenting party was, but what was he supposed to do? The kid wasn’t talking.
“I already said it’s none of your concern,” the ‘let teplied, increasing his struggle. His voice was eerie. Young, but entirely monotone. Being monotone was Techno’s thing. “Let me go.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Techno said as his mind raced. He didn’t know where the half-presented ‘let was supposed to go. He hadn’t been on the server long enough to discover who this kid Admin’s pack could be. Not anyone in Pogtopia for sure. Not given the little he’d heard them say about the kid Admin. Which, wow. How was a ‘let the admin of a server?
Admin. There was a thought. Phil. Phil could figure out what to do with a half-presented ‘let running around alone and acting as an Admin without letting his pack claim him. How was the ‘let functioning? Probably an Admin thing. Phil would know.
The voices thundered through his head and demanded explanations, screamed suggestions, and simply “EEEEE”d. Blocking them out (which was much easier to do with his instincts yelling at him to help the unclaimed ‘let), Techno shook the admin. The ‘let was startled into stopping his struggles briefly, enough time for Techno to reach for his communicator.
Unfortunately, Techno had underestimated the ‘let’s resourcefulness. An instant later, the kid admin had pulled an axe out of his inventory and slashed it at Techno’s arm. Techno reflexively let the ‘let go, and the kid ran off at an amazing speed. Fortunately for Techno, a block of grass randomly stuck out and tripped the boy. Techno had grabbed the kid’s arm in an instant, but the ‘let pulled hard to release Techno’s grasp.
Grumbling, Techno used his free hand to reach around the ‘let and gently pull at the back of the kid admin’s neck. The ‘let slumped, all struggle drained from his limbs. The ax made a loud thump as it hit the ground. The hairs on the back of Techno’s neck stood on end. The ‘let hadn’t even whined.
“Why are you doing this?” the near silent ‘let said blankly.
“Listen, kid. I can’t let you go around unclaimed like that. I know it can be embarrassing, especially when you’re…whatever age you are. 19, 20?”
“I am 21,” that same monotone voice answered. No anger or resignation or anything coloring the young-sounding words.
“Hyeh?” Techno snorted in surprise, letting it cover his unease. “That’s…old for a presentation.”
“It is,” the young emotionless voice agreed. “Things changed for me recently. The server thought I needed it.”
Okay. Servers did get oddly…attached to admin’s sometimes. 21 was young to become the admin of an entire server, especially alone. Maybe the server was trying to fix that? By making its admin younger? The more he learned about this situation, the more he wished someone else had stumbled upon the problem. Someone like Phil.
Phil. He’d sort this mess out. But Techno needed a few minutes of focused comm time to communicate with him across severs.
“Look. I know someone who can work this out. Maybe get the server to take back its…gift. Let me contact him.”
“Who?” the ‘let asked in that same horrifyingly blank tone. Were his eyes equally as blank under that mask? Is this what happened to ‘lets who weren’t claimed for long periods of time? Did they lose their ability to emote? To convey emotion? To feel it? (Is that what almost happened to him?)
“Philza Minecraft,” Techno said. “He’s my team Alpha.”
The ‘let hummed and then nodded.
“The server might like that.” The inflection-less words nearly made Techno wince. What happened when an admin didn’t care about his server? Techno did not want to find out.
Slowly, Techno dropped the hand holding the ‘let’s arm. The ‘let passively followed the motion and made no other sudden moves. Techno’s fingers loosened their grip, but the ‘let still didn’t move. Techno grabbed his comm with his free hand and then quickly made the other hand join the first on the comm. The ‘let grabbed the axe and made to run. But this time Techno was faster.
The sword flicked out of the inventory and hit the ‘let with its flat on the wrist. The axe didn’t fall, but the shock paused his movements. Techno knocked the ‘let full on the ground and sat on him. The rough treatment caused the ‘let’s head to hit the ground and cracked the creepy smiling mask.
Techno’s fingers flew across the comm’s keys, but a heartbreaking whine stopped them. Techno glanced around for yet another problem when he realized the sound was coming from below him. The whine petered off and changed to a whimper.
A sniffle followed, and the ‘let curled into himself as best he could with Techno sitting on his back. His arms looped around his head, and his head tried to tuck into his chest. The voices roared with scoffs and pity, and Techno’s own instincts pushed a reassuring snorting squeal from his throat.
No. He wasn’t the admin’s pack. He couldn’t shift now. He needed Phil. He needed his team Alpha now.
You whisper to Philza Minecraft: I found a problem on my newest server.
You whisper to Philza Minecraft: Its Admin’s an half-presented ‘let.
You whisper to Philza Minecraft: Can I bring him to your server?
Philza whispers to you: Bring him now
With a satisfied grunt, Techno pocketed the communicator and stood. The ‘let didn’t move except to curl on himself further. Sniffling whines clawed at Techno’s ears and heart. Moving a hesitant hand, Techno settled it on top of the ‘let’s head. The kid Admin immediately pressed against the hand, and his whines increased.
“Look,” Techno said softly as he stroked the ‘let’s hair and struggled to speak in full Mojang. “I’m going to take you to another server. You think your server can part with you for a little bit?”
The ‘let didn’t answer except to keep his head pressed against Techno’s hand whenever possible. Touch-starved. The poor ‘let was touch-starved. Fighting against his body’s desire to shift, he fully bent down and cradled the ‘let against his chest. The ‘let immediately snuggled against him, and Techno started wondering how weak the Pogtopians were if this ‘let was so terrifying to them. Especially as the ‘let rubbed his forehead against the side of Techno’s throat. Thankfully the cape kept the ‘let from touching Techno’s scent glands.
“Sorry, kid. My team’s rather small, and I aim to keep it that way,” Techno grumbled, even as every instinct wanted to bare his throat to the unclaimed ‘let. His team was so small. Only Phil and him since Wilbur had left to start his own.
Two immortals who could definitely take care of a kid Admin who was only 21 years old. Who presented so late in life. They could even keep him for a decade or so before he could leave to find a team of his own. No. A decade was too short for someone who would turn 173 this year. Let alone Phil who had barely gotten over having to let his latest ‘let leave. And look at all the trouble Wilbur gotten himself into. Wil should have called Phil for help instead of Techno, but he had said he didn’t want to fight with his father for the position of team Alpha on his new team. Phil wouldn’t overstep his bounds, but Techno understood Wil’s concerns. Even if he didn’t agree with them.
Recalling the emptiness that still haunted his and Phil’s den during pack week, Techno grabbed the ‘let’s head and pressed into his armpit. The ‘let whined and struggled. The warrior moved, but then the sharp metal of blood mixed with the soft petrichor of unpresented ‘let. He quickly glanced down. Blood leaked from the crack of the mask the ‘let still wore. Techno tore the mask off, his instincts roaring behind the action. He slammed it onto the ground and shattered it under his foot.
It had hurt h—a ‘let. Not while under his care.
“No!” the ‘let cried as he moved to dive after the pieces. Techno tightened his hold, but the ‘let struggled and bucked in his hold. “Please. I can’t—”
The words devolved into a whining howl. A call for pack that rattled through Techno’s bones and to his core. Alone. So alone. No team. No one to trust. No one—
Techno’s half-shifted hoof had gripped the clasp of his cape before he regained his senses. No. He was stronger than his instincts. He controlled them, not the other way around. In and out. Like Phil had taught him. In and out. The breaths cleared his thoughts, and he caught whispers of the voices. He had to get this ‘let to Phil and fast.
Faster than many thought possible, Techno ran to where he knew the exit portal was. Another howl tore from the ‘let, and Techno embraced the growingly louder chatter of the voices. Anything to ignore the gaping chasm baring itself to Techno’s soul.
The blocks around him shifted, moved. Some to stop his advance, others to ease it forward. As if the server didn’t know how best to help its Admin. Why would it curse its Admin to bare his soul in such a manner? When, if the kid Admin was to be believed, he had not had need to before? There was a reason people were born into the dynamic and not thrust in.
Finally the exit portal glittered a couple of dozen blocks away from him, and the server must have stopped its internal struggle for the blocks around him froze. And then he was in the hub between servers. Several people stared at him, and a few alpha scents flared. A couple openly growled in open challenge for the ‘let in his arms. Most teams wanted more members. He could drop the ‘let here, and someone would claim him.
But even in the crowded chatter of the voices, he couldn’t justify doing that to the kid Admin who had invited him to his server. What some Alphas did to keep their position in the team unchallenged…and this kid was powerful. His server had moved at his distress. The strength of a server reflected the strength of its Admin. Some team Alphas would keep his power from growing, would cripple him, to keep him under their control. The thought of someone doing that to his—to any ‘let….
Techno ran to the portal that would leave to Phil’s newest server. The large cracked arch of a hardcore server stood next to dozens of smaller ones, showing how old it was next to the other newer ones. Stepping through, he vaguely caught the sound of a snarling peon smashing into the barrier around the arch. So someone had been about to challenge him for the ‘let. Too bad Phil had likely taken precautions the moment Techno had commed him.
As they settled into Phil’s server spawn point, Techno realized that the ‘let in his arms had stopped howling. Hadn’t howled once since exiting his server. Was it the scent of half a dozen interested Alphas? Had that terrified the ‘let? Techno took another look at the ‘let in his arms and focused on the sounds around him instead of the voices. Tiny whimpers trembled from the ‘let, and Techno’s instincts drove every sense to the forefront.
The ‘let’s soul no longer called to his. It trembled in his arms, limp and cold. And whimpering from pain. Pain of having its call ignored. No. The ‘let should be detecting Phil’s scent. The scent of another possible teammate. He shouldn’t be giving up so quickly. Not unless—
What would Techno and Phil do if they couldn’t undo the affectionate server’s curse on the ‘let? If he dared to call again and was rejected…
“I expected you five minutes ago,” Phil said blandly as he approached. “This him?”
“Yeah,” Techno confirmed as the ‘let didn’t even glance at the Alpha headed toward them. “I think something is wrong with him.”
“You mean besides the fact that he isn’t Calling? What happened?” Phil said. He neared the two, but when he got within five blocks, Techno felt himself back up several steps. Phil stopped and narrowed his sharp blue eyes. “Tech?”
“I think he was rejected before I discovered him. We don’t need another ‘let in the team so soon after Wil left, but I don’t think the kid can handle another rejection.”
“Most chicks can’t,” said Phil as his wings ruffled in annoyance. “If you didn’t bring him here to claim him, then why is he here?”
“He said that his server gave him the dynamic as gift,” Techno explained. The voices clamored loudly as his instincts quieted and stilled along with the soul in his arms. “He says he’s 21. Bit old for a human to present the dynamic, so his story seems to check out. I thought maybe you could take it back.”
“Mate, if I was to do that, I would have to do it on his server since I have to tap into the link between him and his server to undo the server’s tampering,” Phil said, stepping forward. Techno move to step back, but Phil gave a loud click, freezing him in place. “The chick’s limp. His soul is obviously exhausted. He won’t Call again for a while.”
Techno didn’t reply. He simply stood there as Phil glanced over the ‘let. The sharp blue eyes softened, and fingers stretched towards the ‘let’s hair. Techno twisted the ‘let away from them. The fingers froze, and blue eyes sharpened again.
“Techno. I think you’re attached.”
“I didn’t let him cover himself with my scent,” said Techno. “And I only neared his to check if he was in the middle of teaming because he was acting completely unaffected by his flaring scent gland.”
“Mate,” Phil sighed, “you won’t let me near him. I’m not saying you’re in the midst of flocking with him, but something is making you cling to the chick. You can’t deny that.”
Techno opened his mouth to argue and paused. He didn’t want to let Phil near. If he was teaming with the ‘let, he would be eager to hand him over to Phil. To have Phil cover him in the team Alpha’s scent and fully mark him as part of their team. So why…?
“Have you considered that some part of you doesn’t want me to take away the dynamic from the chick?” Phil said softly. “That you might want a new flockmate?”
After a brief pause, Techno shook his head through the chatter and dying instincts.
“Not so soon after Wilbur,” Techno said firmly. He couldn’t. “Not another ‘let.”
“So a fully mature flockmate joining is fine but not a chick. All right,” Phil continued slowly. “So why aren’t you letting go of this chick?”
“Don’t know,” Techno said through the growing haze of instincts, voices, and feelings. He didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t letting go of the soul in his arms. And he couldn’t hold on. Why was he not letting go of this lonely unclaimed ‘let? Oh. A lonely unclaimed ‘let. Calling and being rejected by someone he counted as his team. Of being cast aside and then trying to keep going anyway. Of being found by someone who cared enough to look. “He reminds me of me.”
“Of you?” Phil said in a quiet trill.
“Of me when you found me,” said Techno in his normal monotone, stripping away all the emotion swirling behind every word. “So I don’t want to leave him like I thought you would leave me.”
“Oh, mate,” Phil cooed softly. A wing fluttered feather-light onto Techno’s back. “We can claim him. I was ready to do so the moment you entered. I can handle a chick.”
“But I can’t,” Techno huffed as he leaned slightly into the wing. “A decade. Maybe less since he presented so late. And then he’s gone. Only calling to his former team when he’s in over his head. Too much effort for too little reward.”
Phil snorted. “You’re an old soul, mate, so I forget how young you are sometimes. Not all chicks are like Wilbur. Most chicks when they go off make sure to keep in touch monthly or even weekly. They even come to pack weeks on occasion. And don’t forget that you were my chick too, however briefly. You chose to stay and become a more mature part of my flock, even though you developed into an Alpha. Wilbur’s just always wanted to be the flock Alpha, and he would never get that here. Especially after he originally developed into a Beta. And he’s too scared that two strong Alphas like us would threaten that place in any other flock he joins.”
“It’s stupid,” Techno muttered. “I’ve been helping him out and haven’t challenged him in front of his team of ‘lets once. Even when he’d decided to remove the railings from the stairs because they didn’t look cool.”
“You know Wilbur. He has to learn from his own mistakes or else he doesn’t learn at all,” Phil said fondly. “So are we claiming this chick or not?”
“We know next to nothing about him,” Techno huffed. “He’ll probably turn out just like Wilbur.”
“Then let’s learn something about him,” Phil said as he grabbed Techno’s bicep and leaned down to nuzzle the ‘let’s hair. Green eyes blinked the unsettling swirling darkness away, and a clouded green gaze settled on Phil. “Hello, little one. What’s your name?”
A small whimper whined out, and then a tiny soft squeak of a bark came out of the ‘let.
Phil’s whole frame stiffened, and more whines called out to Phil. Techno wanted to move back, to stop what he knew would happen, to remember his own words. But the gasping chasm was back, bared for both Phil and Techno’s souls to feel. To understand the loneliness hiding deep in the unclaimed ‘let’s soul.
“We’re claiming him,” Phil hissed at Techno, and Techno’s own soul jerked in response. “Why didn’t you let me know it was this bad?”
“I thought if you took the dynamic away—”
“No.” Phil’s hiss nearly turned into a screech. “You know it doesn’t work like that. The dynamic lets those in it sense each other’s souls. Let’s us bare and expose our deepest selves to each other. It doesn’t make us need each other. It shows us that we need each other!”
“The server thrust it on him—”
“Because it likely saw this. Saw this and wanted others, people who could help, to see it. Erasing the dynamic will not take this away. The chick will simply not have the dynamic forcing him to seek help. He would likely hide this wound until it shrivels his soul!”
“I—” Techno started, but then he swallowed the “didn’t know.” Because he did. Why else had he refused to give the ‘let up? Why else had he dragged him to another server? The truth sagged his soul. He hadn’t wanted to admit he had wanted to abandon the ‘let. To cover the gaping chasm and pretend it wasn’t there. To ease his conscience and pretend he wasn’t tearing at his own soul to keep from claiming another ‘let. Whatever pain lay in the future, he could not allow the ‘let’s to continue now.
Not that Phil would let him. (Which was why he had come here. He’d known Phil wouldn’t.)
“You are still so young,” Phil chirped. He then cooed as his body shifted in preparation for the claiming. A beak sharpened out of his mouth and lips. His fingers cracked and bent into crow-like claws. The blond hair on his head darkened into the black of his feathers and grew as wispy as them. He nuzzled the quiet ‘let in Techno’s arms. The ‘let whined. “Ssshh. We weren’t rejecting you. Just setting your future flockmate straight. He’s a bit emotionally constipated, so even with access to his soul, you’re going to have to deal with a lot.”
“Don’t turn the kid against me,” Techno snorted as his own nose flattened and jutted into a snout on his face and fur sprouted over his face and replaced the long pink hair on the top of his head with short fuzz. His hoof hand unclasped the cape around his neck. “If he’s going to have trouble dealing with anything, it’s going to be dealing with your ancient soul. Might be a bit much for him.”
“You’re confusing him with you,” Phil said as he bent to nuzzle the ‘let. Techno backed up. Phil blinked and then chuckled. “Careful. Your emotional constipation is showing.”
Techno grunted, but he brought the ‘let up to the side of his neck. Tentatively the ‘let butted his head into the gland right at the joint where Techno’s jaw met his neck. Techno rubbed the gland into the ‘let’s hair, and the ‘let responded by more eagerly spreading Techno’s scent on his head. Then the ‘let bared his neck, and Techno nosed the ‘let’s scent gland with his snout.
The scent of soft petrichor shifted into something resembling summer winds, full of pollen and differing earth tones. Techno huffed, the breath causing the ‘let in his arms to chuckle. His ‘let slipped under Techno’s head and rubbed against Techno’s second scent gland on the other side of his neck. Grabbing the back of his ‘let’s head, Techno held him there as the chasm shrank until only a crack was left behind. His ‘let’s soul settled on the bond built between them.
A chirping caw drew Techno’s attention from the soft assurance he’d been sending his ‘let. Without hesitation, he handed his ‘let over to Phil, who marked his ‘let as theirs. Their ‘let marked Phil back, and their ‘let’s soul settled between theirs. The crack remained, but they covered it with reassurance. He had a team now. He was theirs, and they were his. For as long as he wanted them to be.
Settled and safe, their ‘let’s form rippled. A tiny whimper came from their ‘let as the dynamic gave his soul physical form. Furry, golden pointed ears unfolded from his blond hair. A tail wagged into existence from the seat of his pants. Nothing else though. Not after the first scenting. The rest of his form would settle, but it appeared their ‘let would be a pup of some sort. Wolf, going by the ears. Eh. They’d figure it out later.
Their ‘let yawned, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. Techno chuffed, and Phil shook his head. The old man then passed their ‘let back to Techno, who tucked their ‘let’s head under Techno’s own. The young half-shifted Admin snuggled into Techno’s chest, and the piglin Alpha cradled him close.
“You know once he’s fully settled, he’s going to be embarrassed by that position.”
“Good. He should,” Techno said, stepping past Phil and in the direction of the man’s usual base. “He’s caused me enough embarrassment today.”
“Why? ‘Cause he revealed deep emotional issues you like to pretend aren’t there?” Phil whistled, flapping his wings and fluttering behind Techno.
“Because he made me go from hyper warrior mode to fretting Alpha mode,” Techno replied. “I felt like I was channeling you.”
“If you were channeling me, you would have claimed our chick back on his server and then you would have brought him here to let me fully Flock him.”
“Good to know I haven’t fallen that low,” Techno said blandly, entering the base. He headed up the ladders with little trouble despite the added weight in his arms. It might have been hard if their ‘let didn’t feel ridiculously light for his body size. Maybe he’d point it out to Phil and set the man in full mother-hen mode on the underweight ‘let.
He set their ‘let down on a white bed. Or he tried to. Their ‘let wouldn’t let him go. Wilbur had been this clingy once, but he had always clung to Phil. Techno struggled to remember what Phil would do back when Wilbur was a ‘let, but he could only remember laughing at Phil’s struggles. Laughter that faintly echoed the laughter coming from Phil now.
“Having a…a little…a little trouble there?” Phil managed, laughter cutting between his words. Techno attempted to glare at his Alpha, but a soft head snuggled deeper into his neck and softened his attempt. Phil’s laughter petered off, leaving only a wide, fond grin. “Move over.”
Techno bit back the automatic question and stepped away from the bed. Phil reached into a nearby chest and placed a new white bed next to the first. He instantly placed a third and then gestured to the makeshift king-size bed.
“After you,” Phil said. Techno frowned.
“It’s not pack week, Phil,” Techno said unimpressed.
“He’s not going to let you go,” Phil said still pointing an open hand to the beds. His voice quieted. “Wilbur never did.”
The old memories of laughter and a thin, wiry teenager leaking water resolved themselves in Techno’s head with the semi-amphibious teen latching onto Phil as the man tried to place him down and not letting go. Phil had then slipped under the covers and wrapped wings around the young, axolotl Beta. The wavy fin-like gills caught along Phil’s jacket as the man spilled a water bucket over the bed and settled into sleep with his head half underwater. The bed often took days to dry afterwards. How had Techno forgotten?
Strong, calloused hands pushed him towards the bed, and Techno let them. Bumping into the mattress, Techno sighed and bent down. Half-crawling, half-dragging, he got both himself and their let to the farthest bed. He flipped the ’let and himself over so that the wolfish ‘let would land mostly on the middle bed. The ‘let immediately glued himself onto Techno’s side. Techno snorted and then wrapped an arm around their touch-starved ‘let.
Phil settled in on the farthest bed but moved closer to lay next to their ‘let. Their ‘let rolled over a bit, and his shoulder bumped into Phil’s arm. Black wings blanketed them, and a beak nestled between golden ears. The ‘let gave a little half-whine and bumped under the beak. Chittering, Phil threaded his beak through the golden strands. Their ‘let eased into the bed, into them. Soon he was fast asleep.
Stopping his preening, Phil nuzzled his head on their ‘let’s and closed his large, beady blue eyes. Techno took a deep breath. Fresh grass. Forest wind. Spicy redstone. Whispy feathers. The scent of Techno’s team. Pressing his forehead against Phil’s and touching his snout onto the crown of his ‘let’s head.
Enfolded in his Alpha’s wings and with his arms and snout against his newly teamed ‘let, Techno fell asleep.