Archive of Our Own

The first person that Techno killed wasn’t supposed to die.

They deserved to die, he knows that now. But at the time, the thought of death and murder was still too large, even for the worst people. So Techno had these plans, for them to live but be changed by his threats and justice.

That was the first time Techno died too.

It’s luck, that his power manifested. Or, not quite. Of course he was born with his powers, just as everyone else. But as it could only activate upon death, it was assumed that he was powerless. In that way, it was lucky that the bullet through his skull didn’t leave him a corpse among many floating down a river or buried in a trash heap.

Instead he came back, screaming and writhing in agony. Then he killed the man that killed him. And they didn’t come back.

Maybe that was a turning point in his life. Death predictably is. Techno literally got a second chance at life, living it to the fullest is kind of a part of that. The real toss up was which way he would go. If the blood on his hands would weigh too heavy or seep in.

That was not the last person Techno has killed.

The rest were on purpose, or almost all of them at least. Corrupt politicians and crime lords and scumbags. The sorts of people that deserve to pay but never will in their system. The sorts of people that heroes promise to take down, but they never do, not for long, if at all. 

Techno has killed a few heroes too. Only the ones that deserve it. Though, don’t they all when they all perpetuate the systems in the first place? Doesn’t everyone who aids it, who aids them, the worst of the worst? Doesn’t everyone?

Because no one else will do what Techno does. No one else will break the stupid laws that were made by the criminals in the first place. Of course they can get away with it, when the police are all in their pockets, when money is all that matters. A regular person can steal a loaf of bread and go to jail for a decade, but a millionaire steals from thousands, and suddenly no one cares!

Some will say they do. People like Techno’s family. And he knows them, and he knows that they’re good, at least as much as anyone can be. Even though they’re heroes. And even though they’d never stray from the lines of the law, even if it’s right. Because then they’d lose their licenses. Lose the power that they do have.

They’ve had this conversation before.

“If I want to help as many people as I can, then I can’t go around arresting people, even if they might deserve it. If there’s no proof, or hell, if they can pay it off! In the end, I’ll lose my job and then even more people will suffer and die. I’ll help no one and they’ll still get off.”

It’s a statement that fills Techno's head when he slits the throat of a CEO who raises their drug prices and watches people die. Watches people suffer. Suffer more than blood burbling out of a throat and mouth. Little drops flicker from their nose as they struggle to breathe, desperate to live! But they never gave their desperate customers the care they needed and no one comes for them now.

The next CEO that took their place was the same, just better security.

Phil and Wilbur and Tommy, they don’t hurt people directly. Not like most people in power do. Not like a lot of heroes do. But even if they did, Techno’s not sure he could take them out the same way he does the others. Because no matter how many times he’s died, the terror is always there, worse than anything in the world. And Techno couldn’t imagine putting that into his family.

So he doesn’t think about it when he’s around them. Techno shoves a wall between the two worlds and strengthens the foundations. 

In his teens, Techno would argue politics till he was red in the face and near tears. Filled with passion, even before he ever lifted a finger. Now he avoids it like the plague, mentions of elections and policies and murders of certain figures. Techno turns the channel on TV whenever a joke skews too close.

It’s easier to keep his family in a lighter face. Away from the blood under his fingernails and the ceaseless anger in his chest. Maybe a part of his fears that it will turn on them. Or maybe he’s afraid that they’ll see who he really is and look on in disgust.

They’ve always done it to him, longer than he realized. Techno, who had no powers. Still doesn’t in their eyes. The only normal one in a family of heroes.

Maybe that’s what family does. Dress up the ugly parts till they can’t hurt each other. Only indulge in the easy. Techno doesn’t know. But he does love his family. Even if sometimes hate for the world boils up so close to it.

It’s almost like he might just—

“Techno, your nose is bleeding!”

With a blink, Techno glances down and watches as a drop of blood falls from his chin and splatters on his front. Before he can try to mop it away with his hands, Wilbur’s sweeping in close with a tissue. Grunting vaguely in thanks, Techno pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes through the smell of copper.

“Are you feeling alright?” Wilbur asks, concern heavy.

“Yeah, it’s just a nosebleed. No big deal,” Techno says.

Though, he has to focus hard to keep his hands steady. They still tremor slightly around the tissue and he has to lean back against the couch a bit too heavily. The wave of lightheadedness isn’t unfamiliar, but it is difficult to not show on the outside.

Obviously, Techno doesn’t quite succeed in hiding it. Wilbur leans closer with a frown before pressing a palm to Techno’s forehead.

“Are you sure you’re not sick? You look a bit pale. Weren’t you feeling unwell earlier this week?”

“The blood just makes me a bit faint, I’m fine.”

Techno rolls his eyes for the effect, but it’s hard to hold back amusement at that. Squeamish around blood isn’t quite correct, but it’s definitely not the time to admit that. Not when it’s a good cover and not when Wilbur buys it so well.

Unwell is one way to put how he felt earlier this week though. And the nosebleed probably is related. But it’s not an infection or anything Wilbur’s imagining. Techno died is all. 

Or, he was killed. He doesn’t go around tripping down stairs and breaking his neck or anything. But he fought a hero that was able to pull the air right out of his lungs, which is not very combatable. Techno came out on top, but not without a cost.

After the adrenaline wears off from the revival, Techno’s pretty out for a few days. Dizziness and fainting and vomiting and just about what you could imagine. And the memory of the wound hurts like hell too. Even now, his chest feels a bit cut open. 

But he’s fine, he came back. And even though resting makes him feel better faster, there’s never time to sit back and do nothing. Not when there’s always a hundred more people that will happily watch people suffer to replace every one that he puts down. Techno’s job never stops, but that’s just what he has to live with (ha). In that way, he and heroes like his family at least see eye to eye on one thing.

“You should take it easy. You’ll study yourself to death at this rate,” Wilbur says while wiping a drop of blood that had apparently smeared up Techno’s cheekbone.

“Mm. I’ll let my professors know.”

Wilbur gives his own eye roll, before flicking Techno’s braid and turning back to the tv. They’re watching some sort of movie, but Techno’s not sure exactly what. Something with a lot of noise and colors. A comedy, he thinks. They don’t watch a lot of deeper stuff now-a-days.

Before it’s over, Wilbur is called into work by the Hero Association. Techno doesn’t bother finishing it.

—

It’s something that Techno should have expected. He thought he might get away from it to some extent, since he doesn’t patrol the streets or take out innocents like a lot of “villains” do. But of course, take down some of their own and the Hero Association will respond faster than if there's a city leveling earthquake.

So, on an evening that was supposed to be easy and just involved him doing some recon on a filthy good for nothing maggot , Techno is ambushed by a group of heroes.

It shouldn’t be the end of the world. Heroes can fight better than most money stuffed politicians or drug lords, but he can’t die. Or, can’t stay dead, at least. The dying part is often helpful for letting him take people by surprise. 

Too bad he can’t do that this time. Because the Hero Association sent his family after him.

What awful luck, the one set of heroes that Techno can’t kill. Can’t really fight back against or injure or anything. The only people who his mind couldn’t spin as right to die by his hands. 

Techno’s thoroughly screwed.

“Give yourself up! You’re outnumbered!” 

Phil’s voice booms from behind his mask and it shakes Techno down to his core. A voice that’s usually filled with such kindness and warmth, it suddenly sounds like every other hero. Every other awful person that Techno kills in the night.

Techno turns on his heel and starts running.

It’s dumb, but there’s nothing else. He can’t fight, because he can’t hurt them. So fleeing is all that’s left. The sound of their feet on the ground is almost familiar still, even in steel toed shoes and sprinting after him.

The city is familiar to Techno after all these months creeping through them. That’s probably the only reason that he’s not caught by them in a second. Because the bad part of the city is Techno’s hunting ground, at least many nights. More often than not, heroes are only sent out to the good parts, where blood on the streets would look odd. The alleys stretch out before Techno easily.

But his family are heroes who have had powers all their lives and have been working much longer than him. It shouldn’t be shocking, when Wilbur pops out of a wall right beside Techno, solidifying his form right before he crashes into him and sends them both to the ground. For a second, all Techno thinks is that Wilbur hates becoming solid so quickly because it makes him nauseous. Then the side of his head smacks into the concrete and the thought gets blurred away.

“Don’t resist,” Wilbur hisses.

It strikes fear into Techno’s heart for the first time in a long time. He’s always scared while he’s dying, but before it gets to that point, he hasn’t been this afraid since the first time. But Techno can hear Phil and Tommy catching up, circling around him. There’s not much he’ll be able to do, not without hurting them.

But he can’t get caught. Because it will hurt his family to see. And because Techno won’t be able to die, even when sentenced to death. And because then no one else will be around to take the burden of killing those that need to die. So he can’t.

With a sharp inhale, Techno jabs his elbow into Wilbur’s stomach.

It hurts him, muscles already weak and achy there, Techno knows. So the older man stutters for a second. Long enough for Techno to slip out and yank the gun off his belt and plant it right against Wilbur’s temple.

It’ll do nothing, which is the only reason Techno can do it. Wilbur can fade away easily, and he will after he gets his breath back. Before Techno could even pull the trigger if he wanted.

But the threat makes his family pause, even if it’s illogical. Because they don’t want Wilbur to die either.

It’s a moment to look around. There’s not much to see, not in the tiny dark alley. It’s the sort of place where people die and their body gets abandoned for days. Techno could imagine that being him, if only he could die. It won’t be his family though.

Wilbur’s gone through the ground and Techno’s hand has already moved the gun upwards. The gas lines in the city suck, or at least down here they do. So leaky and breaking so often. Not last week a couple kids were playing around one and sent themselves sky high. Of course, the gas company refused to respond beyond closing off their lines while they “investigated.”

Techno shoots the bullet and sprints towards it.

The explosion is small, only scraps of gas to lick off of and combust. And Tommy will be fine, where he’s standing closest. Even if he has the least experience, he’s a hero for a reason. His powers are so strong, one day he’ll be just like one of the men at the top that Techno stabs in the stomach to make it hurt the worst.

As expected, the young man flinches away as light dances around him, both from the explosion and his own powers. Techno doesn’t let himself pause, running right past and into the streets. It’ll only be a second till they recover, just a snatch of time till they catch him again. Techno needs to do more than run.

But he can’t fight them. 

His feet hit the ground.

But he can’t turn himself in.

The pounding pavement makes his skull ache.

But he can’t run.

It’s like the thing is cracking apart.

But he can’t think.

All of his body feels on the edge of death.

But he can’t die.

There’s the sound of a child shouting, and Techno turns on his heels, right towards it. The buildings and alleys that fly by are more and more residential and as he rounds a corner, he finds himself in a party. Music is blaring and people are dancing, laughing, and screaming. It smells like grilled food and sweat. No one has noticed him yet, and for that, it is like looking into a painting.

Techno slips among the bodies. They’ll slow his family down. He knows they won’t risk hurting them, it’s the perfect place to disappear.

Tommy drops into the scene with a shower of sparks and heat. The excited screams bleed away to something like fear, even as Tommy pauses and looks around the crowd, mouth moving to try and soothe them. But the innocents are too scared to think. They know what bad people can really do. They don’t trust heroes to save them.

A woman looks into Techno’s mask before freezing, eyes so wide that it hurts even to see. There’s a baby in her arms, and she shifts it ever closer, as if that could save it. As if Techno will hurt it.

He is, by being here. Putting them at risk. The innocents.

Techno shouldn’t have done this, wouldn’t have if it was anyone else. But even still, he should have taken the injuries and the death himself then let it befall the innocents. Then bring it upon them.

The woman turns and sprints away as Techno tries to follow the crowd into one of the buildings where everyone is flooding in.

They’re rickety things, townhouses. Landlords all scumbags that have never fixed a thing in their lives, let alone made sure they were up to code. And Techno could see, less than even an explosion, less than even a bullet, the whole thing falling down and crushing everyone inside it during the fight and chaos.

A small boy elbows Techno as he runs past and screams out for his mom. There’s a group of men yelling loudly and grabbing at people. A woman is wailing by one of the doors, endless and unceasing.

Innocents, or they should be. They haven’t done anything, not that Techno knows. They haven’t done anything . 

Haven’t slipped into their landlords house and slit their throats in their sleep. Haven’t faced the crime lords at their front doors and shot them where it lands. Haven’t done shit for the scum that rules over them and sucks them dry.

For a moment, Techno thinks that maybe they all deserve to die just as much as anyone else.

It’s shocking, how little the thought phases him. It’s… easy. 

Because isn’t everyone bad? Doesn’t everyone buy vegetables grown by slavers and fine goods made by children in sweatshops? They drive cars that lay waste to the planet and use single use plastic and watch films that perpetuate stereotypes and support people that spit bigotry and elECT THE FACISTS THAT LET IT ALL HAPPEN!

Techno’s hands are shaking at his sides but his breathing is very calm. Everyone around him has gone flat and fake. Their screams no longer hurt his ears and their elbows don’t dig into his skin. They’re easy to imagine dead, right here, right now, and the world would be better off.

“They’re over here!”

Tommy’s shout breaks through the static.

Techno turns and watches a bit placidly as Wilbur and Phil make their way through the dwindling crowd right towards him. They run as fast as they can without knocking into anyone, but it’d be so much easier if they just did. And yet they don’t.

Techno feels words from the past of his tongue.

“How could they elect someone like that? They’re doing just as much harm as he is! They’re just as bad, they’re murderers!”

“Maybe they’re scared or don’t know?” Phil says.

“That’s just as bad! They’re ignorant on purpose, don’t you see that that’s just as bad?!”

“It doesn’t matter, Techno. They’re people. And that means they get a choice.”

“Not if it hurts others! What gives them the right!”

“Everyone hurts people, mate. It’s just our job to try and minimize what we can.”

It wasn’t enough then. It’s not enough now. Because Techno’s family thinks that he’s a corrupt killer, someone who is hurting others. And instead of shooting him dead right now, they’re too worried about the civilians instead. 

It’s. It’s wrong. Or is it right? Techno doesn’t know.

The hero that Techno killed the other week didn’t care about innocent injuries. Or casualties. He went beyond that too, extortion and lobbying and other horrid behaviors. He deserved to die. Because people he was supposed to save got hurt by him. And because some of them even died.

Techno’s head hurts.

It hurts, because nestled between all the bodies, his family looks just as bad as the rest of them. Just as bad. Just as good. It means the same thing.

The air sizzles with ozone as Tommy’s power splits through it. It burns Techno’s sinuses before his arms are being grabbed and yanked behind him. The knee that sinks into his spine hurts, vaguely, same as when he hits the ground and his brother’s weight falls onto him. 

“Stand down and you won’t be hurt,” Tommy says firmly.

To Techno, he realizes. Half his mind thinks that it must have been directed towards the civilians innocents being corralled out of the building and courtyard by Wilbur. But the metal of power suppressant cuffs slide around his wrists and it almost helps center him.

They restrain him until the area is empty, or well enough. Then he’s yanked to his feet and ushered towards the front of the building. It lets out onto a street, and even though Techno can see Wilbur probably calling for reinforcements and cops, for a second it’s just them. A family gathering of sorts. There’s a smile on his face behind his mask, but he’s not sure why.

A squeal breaks the almost peace. The sound makes Tommy dig his fingers into Techno’s forearms tighter as he turns slightly away. All of them straighten and turn their attention towards the sound, readying themselves to fight further.

It’s a car, speeding down the street, right towards them. It confuses Techno, the coincidence of it. But then the familiar sound of gunshots fill the air and he realizes that it’s not a coincidence.

“Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he starts shoving Techno back towards the building, not letting up his hold.

It’s funny, but Techno recognizes the car. And the person inside, he’ll bet. See, Techno had just been trailing the man, not even an hour before. Techno had plans to kill him.

But now he’s killing Techno’s family.

The heroes respond quickly, because this is what they’re trained for. But they don’t know that the bullets are just cover. That the man has powers too, and plenty of practice with using them on heroes and villains and innocents. A single touch, poison will weave its way deep into the tissue. Death, very probably, if that’s what the man wants from his family.

And they won’t come back, like Techno would have when he killed the man.

Funny that.

Tommy injured his ankle as a kid. It took months to heal and while it doesn’t bother him much, it’ll always be a bit weaker than the other. Techno kicks his heel into it, hard, and breaks from his grasp in the stutter that follows.

“Motherfucker—”

“Hey!”

Tommy and Phil’s voices call out from behind him as he takes off down the yard. The car doesn’t stop as it hops the gutter and drives into the grass. It only screeches to a halt a couple feet away from Wilbur. Shoot.

Techno changes his trajectory towards Wilbur. If the man is going after Wilbur, then Techno can intercept there. It’s a good plan, considering that the door of the car is popping open as Wilbur turns to look at Techno instead. 

Quickly, Techno pops the magnetic connection of the cuffs and pulls the knife out of his belt.

Maybe that’s what makes Phil do it. After all, just like Techno will forgo killing for his family, the rest of them would do the opposite. 

Just as Techno grabs the man’s arm, hand already prickling and burning from poison, a dozen metal feathers sink into his body. They hurt like being stabbed. They hurt like being shot. They hurt like his father yelling at him with true deep anger.

Not slowing down, Techno cleanly slides the blade of his knife across the man’s throat. Past the jugulars and through the carotids, blood bursts from the wound so quickly that the pressure of it almost stops the flow for the moment. But blood can’t hold itself in, so the man chokes and falls. A job done easier than Techno expected.

His knife is still raised before him, but only until Phil has grabbed his wrist. He must have flown over, or leapt with his wings, to get there so quickly. With a squeeze, Techno’s wrist bone gives and he’s forced to let go of his weapon.

It hurts, underneath the poison that’s snaking up his arm. Underneath the power suppressing cuff. And then the fear of death, such a familiar companion, rejoins Techno.

Maybe that’s why Techno chokes out: “Phil.”

Right before falling to the ground.

There’s no expression to see if there is one, not with the mask over Phil’s face. But the hand around his arm somehow grows tighter, before almost letting go. The man drops beside him in a flash though, hands jerking over Techno with obvious panic. Behind them, Techno can hear his brothers calling out their father’s hero name, but he doesn’t respond to them.

“Please, please, please,” Phil whispers as he grabs the edge of Techno’s mask and pulls upwards.

It makes him flinch, the chill of air and the increase in light. 

“Oh god.”

Techno hears Phil even with his eyes closed.

“Techno?” Wilbur’s shocked voice joins the litany, and then he can feel his hands too.

Peeking his eyes open, Techno looks at his brother’s masked face. Then his father’s. He’s almost thankful for the blank surfaces. Who knows what’s underneath.

“We need to get him to a hospital, his injuries are too bad,” Wilbur says urgently.

“But he—” Tommy stutters from a bit away.

“It doesn’t matter, he won’t make it. There’s too much blood.” Wilbur shoves his palms against Techno’s stomach, but it just makes more blood ooze out.

With as much force as he can, Techno shakes his head. He doesn’t need a hospital, because he won’t die. Can’t die. 

Except for the cuffs on his wrist masking his power. And except for the fact that his family doesn’t know he has any to begin with. Doesn’t know to take them off.

A part of Techno wants it to end here almost. Because it’d be so much easier, wouldn’t it? There’s a reason Techno’s kept this all from his family. They’d never understand. It would hurt them. And even if they’re hurt now, seeing him as a villain and dying here, at least Techno won’t have to face the aftermath. At least it would be over.

And it’d be a righteous death, the thing Techno finds more worthwhile than life.

If only Phil wasn’t the one to cut him open. And if only Techno hadn’t caught the poisoned hands for Wilbur. And if only Tommy didn’t let him go to allow this to happen.

It would kill them.

With jerking nearly numb hands, Techno shoves his wrists towards Phil. The clumsy tips of his fingers dig into the cuffs as he starts to cough. The familiar pull of blood loss on his skin is leaving him thready and there’s a burning in his lungs.

“Please,” Techno murmurs.

It brings a pause to the shouted conversations bouncing around over his head. Too much to keep up with. But it pulls his family’s attention back, so it’s enough. With more force, Techno shoves his wrists forwards while grappling at the edges of the cuffs.

“ Please .”

Techno doesn’t beg for his own life, but he begs for them.

There’s a visible pause from Phil before he’s yanking on Techno’s arms. It makes his bones feel like they’re splitting apart, all the way up to his joints. Falling limp, a pained noise escapes him. As the cuffs are pulled off, his hands fall into his lap lamely, though they bring bursts of agony.

“Call for a healer to—”

“They won’t heal him, he’s, he’s a—”

“They have too!”

It’s too much beneath the familiar downpour of terror. It’s always there when he dies. It must be with everyone when they die, Techno thinks. Like the mind and body just know when things tip over the edge. As the shaking in Techno’s arms takes over the rest of his body, somehow he’s more afraid than he was with the cuffs holding him down.

“Don’t worry,” Techno tries to say, but he’s pretty sure his voice isn’t coming out right. With more force, he tries again. “I’ll come back.”

He doesn’t think his family understands, not with their continued panic or how they’re still shoving their hands into his wounds excruciatingly. But then Wilbur’s hands suddenly lift and Techno can tell that he’s asking him a question, but the ringing in his ears is too loud.

Before Techno slips away, his mask is shoved back down onto his face by Wilbur.

—

Techno comes back to his brother screaming.

It’s only for a second though, since it’s quickly washed away by his own screaming. Fire is dousing every inch of his being, right past his skin and organs and bones to something that exists in the middle. Of course, all of that hurts too. So so much, more than anything. More than being shot or stabbed or poisoned or anything . 

Coming back hurts worse than dying.

Before Techno can even breathe for the first time, he feels arms wrap around him and the nauseating pull of gravity. As if plunged into cold water, adrenaline floods through Techno so hard that his entire body seizes with it. Striking out violently, he struggles away while trying in vain to find the weapons on his belt.

“Stay still,” A voice growls beside his ear, before the arms fold around him tighter.

Distantly, Techno can hear sirens. But with a woosh of air and sudden deepening of inertia, they fade away to the static of wind. Grappling with himself immensely, Techno forces his eyes to focus as he looks around, vision still pulsating with his racing heart.

It’s confusing, to see Phil’s hero mask right above him. It doesn’t make sense among the potent urge to fight, fight, fight, still flooding through him. But as the edges of the scene lose the flat edge, Techno realizes that it must actually be Phil, beneath the mask. And that he’s probably holding him too.

Carrying him. And a glance to the side sends his head and stomach spinning out of control as the sight of dizzying heights. His hands instinctively strike out and sink into Phil’s clothes as it feels as though his brain drops right out of his skull. Though, he can feel something dripping out from his mask, so maybe it is his brain.

A hand slides behind Techno’s head, tucking it closer to Phil’s chest. It helps him feel the downright violent jerking of flight a bit less, but not much. All of his limbs are still jerking about.

“Hold on,” Phil whispers.

The words flit away before they reach his ears proper. 

It’s although he dips down into the smoldering embers, lost to the heat and burning. Haziness drags him lower and lower, till even some of the pain floats away like smoke. The world only comes to him in small snippets, little wisps of soot rubbing on his skin before it drifts off too. It could almost be peaceful, the soft underbelly of death.

As a hand closes around Techno’s throat, his whole body jolts as he struggles back to himself. Gasps grasp his chest as his eyes snap open and he sits up. It’s an instant urge to lash out and get away from whatever will tug him back away from life. The fingers recoil from his throat, and through rapid blinking, Techno makes out his father’s lined face.

“Techno…” Phil says, a strange sort of hesitance in his tone. “Lay back down, your pulse keeps jumping around.”

Numbly, Techno lets himself be pushed back down onto the bed. A glance around shows that he’s back at their house, in his father’s room. It’s strange after the day he’s had. Like maybe he should be in jail or the afterlife.

“It might be blood loss, or shock. You should drink some juice and—”

Phil’s words make Techno’s head spin till he’s forced to close his eyes. He can feel blankets being pulled up around him. Probably because he’s still shaking. But that’s not an odd after effect.

“Phil,” Techno complains as his head starts to pound.

“I don’t— You need a doctor.”

Slowly, Techno peels his eyes apart. “I’m fine.”

His father is silent for a second, then two. Long enough that the pain gripes his chest and he wants to wheeze. But Techno swallows it down.

“You died!” Phil suddenly shouts.

Then the man grabs his hair and seemingly internalizes the words. It seems to hit him hard. Something that’s probably kept Phil up at night with two of his children being heroes right alongside him. Probably, he never thought he had to worry for Techno that way. His child with no powers and no ability to fight beyond his sharp words.

“I’m fine,” Techno reiterates weakly.

“Your heart stopped, I felt it. But it came back before I could start doing cpr, you, you have powers, don’t you? Healing?”

“Revival.”

“Revive… You died. But then—” His father pauses and nearly flinches back. “You knew before.”

“Yes,” Techno agrees.

“You’ve died before?! Is that how you knew?”

Phil grabs both of Techno’s wrists, right over the slightly sore rings where the cuffs once sat. It feels damning, even with them gone.

“Yes.”

“You can’t… Techno what are you doing?! Going out there, fighting people? Killing people! You died and if you didn’t have powers like we all thought, you’d be dead!”

A sigh falls from Techno’s lips. It helps the aching in his chest some. Something in him solidifies.

“They deserve to die.”

It’s simple. Easy to say. Because all of the people that Techno has killed do deserve to die. And whatever happens because of that… It has to be okay.

“Techno.” 

Phil sounds horrified and he’s looking at Techno strangely. Similar to how Techno imagined this moment would happen. In some way, that’s good. Better than everything that was happening before where his family got mixed up with that side. They’d never understand, he knows, and that’s alright. Because Techno’s the one doing the killing for a reason.

“You’re a villain. The whole Hero Association is after you! If they had sent backup a second sooner, if I hadn’t realized it was you, you would have been arrested. Executed probably!”

Logical words, at least in Phil’s mind. They’re the sorts of things he had spouted, not in the exact way but similarly, when Techno was a teenager that did nothing more than scream about the injustice in the world. 

"It doesn’t matter if you’re right, because it’ll leave you dead and the bad people will still get off."

Doesn’t matter if you’re right or why you’re doing it… That never made sense to Techno though, no matter how hard his father tried to make it. Being right is all that matters. More than laws, more than death. Laws are wrong all the time. And everyone dies.

The man that tried to kill Wilbur is dead.

“It’s just what’s right,” Techno whispers.

“If it was any other hero, they wouldn’t have taken off the cuffs. You would have died Techno. Can’t you see that? All of this, it almost killed you.”

There’s desperation in his tone and Techno almost feels bad for it. But not enough to give in.

“If it hadn’t been you, then it would have been okay to me,” Techno says evenly. “It would have been right still.”

“Techno.”

Phil sounds almost awed. Or maybe disturbed. It’s always a fine line, isn’t it? When Techno comes back from the dead, it’s not a pretty sight. Sometimes, when he’s killing them, the people have similar sorts of expressions. Something in the middle.

It’s silent for a while, Phil’s face hidden in his hands. But then he breathes in and when he reveals himself, it’s as little a real face as his mask is. Somehow, that makes Techno’s insides hurt worse than everything.

“I need to get back right now, Wilbur and Tommy are covering it up, but it’ll be suspicious. Just, stay here,” Phil says.

Though, it’s just said to be said, since his father pulls out a set of normal handcuffs and secures Techno’s wrist to the bed frame. Then he puts his mask back on and turns to leave.

The worst part is that Techno knows, even after it all, none of him has changed. It’s right and he couldn’t live with himself if he was anything else. But he feels bad about how it’ll affect his family. Even if they’re heroes and bad people in many ways.

Because even if his family deserves to die, Techno knows they’re the one set of people he could never kill.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Techno asks as his father reaches the door.

It’s a dumb question, forgiveness without change. Techno is not forgiving. He would not extend the same kindness.

Phil doesn’t respond, but he pauses for a minute. And when he leaves, the light in the hallway is still on. Like when Techno was little and scared of the dark. He’s even snuck into his parent’s room... What a strange parallel. 

Techno thinks that Phil might forgive him for killing, for his beliefs. But he’ll never forgive Techno for forcing him to kill his son.