It was a good thing that Philza had thought ahead and prepared quite a large pot with soup for both himself and his guest, who he yet had to figure out his name. He usually had more complex meals, since soup can get a bit boring when you have too much of it, but it was the fastest warm food he could make as well as one that will be easy on the other's throat.

The day was spent in a constant switch between watching his guest and patrolling the island for any kind of threat that could have come with or after the arrival of the pink haired stranger. Even though he deemed the man rather harmless due to his weakened state and sickness right now, there was a small voice that constantly reminded him that he is a stranger from the ground, a place where his people once were hated and outcasts.

Plus, hearing that the city is now known as nothing more than a treasure to find and pillage only made him more anxious and protective over his home. And as much as he hated to admit it, his guest could just be straight up lying to him and try to kill him and rob the city himself once he's back on his feet.

That's why he only ever left the man by himself when he was asleep and even then he leaves Brian with him just in case. His beloved crow may be chaotic, but he will defend his home just as ferociously as Phil would himself.

When nightfall came again and the stranger had been fed his evening meal, Phil found himself sitting on one of the  branches of the large tree he had his nest in. It gave him a great view over the island and the abandoned city. Looking down at all the destroyed houses did make him sad sometimes. He can still tell which one used to be his, where he and his family lived before they passed away.

As soon as his parents and sister had died, he had made himself his nest home in the tree, far away from the quickly annoying praises and the constant worshipping. He had grabbed all sentimental items from his old home and brought it to his nest, then allowed the rest to be used by the people that needed them, like clothes or left over food.

Though most people immediately voted for it being somewhat of a memorial for the family.

Phil sighed and played with one of the thin gold chains around his wrist, trying to focused on the glittering gold instead of the dark thoughts in his mind. He should be happy right now, he has someone else here, another human, he's finally not alone anymore, but the possibility of the stranger being a traitor doesn't allow his mind to be happy about it.

A crow shrieking made him look back up. His crow. He turned back to his nest and climbed down a few branches, just to see that his guest was dragging himself out of the comfort of blankets and pillows, pulling himself up a branch towards where Phil was sitting. "Whoa whoa hey what are you doing?" The winged man quickly climbed back down to him to try and stop him from moving. His guest groaned in discomfort when Phil lifted him up and brought him back to the nest bed.

"What were you thinking?! You could have fallen down! You're nowhere near your old strength yet!" Phil didn't know if he should be angry or just concerned for his guest's health, or maybe just both. He could have died and it would have been Phil's fault! When he pulled away to grab the fallen blanket, the man grabbed his arm to keep Phil there. "What? Something wrong?" He didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but the stress didn't allow his voice to soften in time.

Yet the stranger didn't seem bothered by the anger in his voice, only looking up at him with the same concern he had shown to the other earlier. "Y-ou... sa-d." The man's voice was hoarse and broken and it sounded incredibly painful, but he held on to Phil's arm anyways as he looked up at him. The bird didn't know what to say at first because it was true, he was sad, about a lot of things really, but it didn't feel right to dump it all on someone he barely knows.

"I... it's nothing. Don't worry about it." The stranger didn't look too convinced with his answer, still holding his arm with a suprisingly strong grip for someone in his condition. "Ta..lk... H...elp?" He cringed at the way the man's voice broke at the end, clearly causing the other pain when he spoke. He wanted to tell him off, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. This is the first time in decades, centuries that someone beside his immediate family had shown any kind of concern for him.

"Just... thinking about past times. When people still lived here. Before everyone left." The man slowly nodded and let go of his arm. His eyes darkened, as if recalling a dark memory as well, one that must hurt just as much as Phil's does by the way he shrunk down into his blanket again. "Lon... ly?" It hurt. It hurt a lot to hear it like this. That he had been so alone that he was turning to a stranger for comfort, one who was hurting himself. Both physically... and mentally, by the looks of it.

"Mmm... I guess so..." His voice was small, barely above a whisper and he desperately fought against the tears he can clearly feel forming. He blinked them away and bit his tongue to try and regain his composure so he can help his guest again. A hand carefully wrapped around his own, squeezing it softly. He returned the gesture without even thinking about it, clinging to the small bit of comfort like it was the last thing keeping him alive.

The man opened his mouth again, trying to force out a few words again, but Phil shook his head and squeezed the hand more. "I don't think you should be talking yet. Your voice sounds terrible." The man just hummed and took his hand away from Phil's. He allowed it, despite his heart begging to hold on to this warmth for as long as he could. Then the stranger held out both of his arms, like a parent awaiting their child's embrace at the front door. He looked like he was half asleep and in pain still too, but that didn't seem to stop him. "Hu...g?"

Phil knew that it was probably a bad idea, both because of him being a stranger that he just doesn't know well and him still being in pain. But the lonely, touch starved part of him couldn't resist the urge. He carefully climbed into the nest and accepted the hug, almost sobbing when he felt strong arms curl around him, protecting him, caring for him. They may not be as strong as they feel yet, but that didn't matter right now.

The man hugged him as tightly as his body could right now and just holds him. He's careful not to touch his wings, which Phil was unbelievably grateful for. His wings were something precious to him, even with the eternal prison they stand for. The only people who he ever allowed to touch, let alone preen them, were his mother and his sister. His father always had rather rough hands, too rough to work with the silky feathers, but he never held it against him.

And then... he heard a melody.

The notes were out of tune and broken, but he would still recognize it anywhere. And they were coming from him. The stranger, even in pain, was trying to mimic the soft lullaby melody he had sung to him when he first fully awoke. His mother's lullaby. He broke at that.

Ugly sobs and hiccups shook his body as he began to cry and he buried his face in the other's chest, trying to hide from the rest of the world. The man didn't complain, just holding the broken angel as he finally, finally, released all the bottled up sorrow of the last centuries, allowing him to safely let it all out. He hid the crying man away in his arms, away from the judgment of gods or even from long passed souls that could be watching.

He gave him what he himself never could have. Maybe sometime in the future, he could find the same comfort from the angel as he finds in him now. But he needs a different kind of comfort... as a different kind of pain had caused him his suffering in the first place.

Both had no idea for how long they laid there, for how long Philza had cried and screamed all his sorrow out before he finally passed out in the other's arms. And again, he didn't complain as he carefully maneuvered a blanket over limp wings and a still slightly shaking body. He began to comb out Philza's hair the same way he had done for him, hopping that even in his passed out state it would still comfort him and keep nightmares away.

Brian had watched it all happen and was more than happy to tell Phil the next morning. That someone was finally here to take care of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phil woke up the next morning to bright sunlight hitting his face and he groaned, turning away from the light and burying his face in the pillow below him. His body felt sore and his eyes burned, but he felt better. Lighter... as if a huge weight had fallen off of him.

A gentle hand began to play with his hair and it was only then that he realized that his pillow had a heartbeat. "Be... ter?" He slowly lifted his head, blinking against the sunlight as he saw a soft smile greet him. The stranger... right. Memories of last night flooded his head and he almost immediately buried his face again, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He cried himself to sleep in front of a stranger. Great. Brian will never let him live this down.

The man laughed and his voice, still hoarse, already sounded better than before. Even if he still had to cough afterwards. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... it just all came out and I couldn't stop. " "'ts fine... you ne...ed it." Phil looked up at him again, still very aware of his red face. But the man didn't make any effort to embarrass him further or make any other comment. "Your voice sounds better..."

The man nodded and looked to his left, where his beloved crow was sitting and watching them interact. "Gave... wa...er" He grimaced and coughed again, his throat obviously complaining about being used so much already. Phil was quick to react as he got up and quickly fetched him a new cup with fresh water. The man gladly took it and chugged it all immediately.

Phil took that time to right himself again, wash his face and fix his messed up clothes. "Tech...o... bla...de." He turned to look back at the man, who's face was already back in discomfort after saying a longer word. "What?" "Name..." Then it clicked. "Oh... Techoblade?" The man shook his head and coughed again. "Tech...no..." "Technoblade?" This time he nodded and smiled. Phil smiled back as he knelt back down next to him.

"Well... nice to meet you Technoblade. That's a pretty long name... can I call you Techno? Or Blade? Whichever you prefer." Technoblade nodded and held up one finger. "The first? Techno?" Again, he nodded. "Alright, Techno it is. You can call me Phil for short, whenever your voice is fully back. Now. Want to eat some breakfast?" Techno nodded again and carefully sat up in the nest. Phil immediately moved some pillows to help him stay upright.

"I'll be right back. Please don't start to climb out again." Techno laughed as he watched Phil let himself fall out of his nest and glide to the ground.

This could be the start of a very interesting friendship...

- - - -

Okay I wanted to leave enough space to let the chapter ring out a bit.

As mentioned, I came up with a design for 'Skyza' as a lovely friend has called this version of Phil. I don't have a drawing of Techno yet, but he technically just wears his regular outfit without the crown or cape or any jewelry. So white shirt, black pants and boots.

Anyways, here is the design I came up with! It's not perfect, but I kinda like it.

And he looks so adorable...

Looks kinda female but eh... you can never tell with my drawings anyways.

Hope you have a great day!