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“You need a break,” Phil decides.
“No, no - I can’t,” Techno says. He doesn’t like the way his voice shakes a bit, the way his words wobble and his shoulders curl inwards like a hermit crab in its shell.
Phil gives him that look, the head tilt, the one that says ‘you bitch, take care of yourself for once.’ And as much as Techno wants to, it’s just - hard. Everything’s hard.
So he’s doing the one thing he can, which for some reason happened to be replacing every single fence post on the entire property. They weren’t broken or anything. He just needed something to do with his hands, to occupy his mind, so he didn’t stare out at the white void of the snow and feel the weight of existence just a little heavier on his shoulders.
It didn’t quite work as much as he hoped it would, but nothing ever really makes it better.
Nothing to worry about. That’s just how it is, he tells himself. Maybe somewhere out there, there’s a better world where waking up in the morning doesn’t feel like a punishment and lifting a fork to his mouth isn’t some grueling task.
It’s not like he needs any extra hard work anyway. He’ll come up with enough of that on his own.
“Techno, you’ve been at this for hours,” Phil points out. “Come inside for a rest. Nothing’s stopping you.”
Phil’s right; at this point, it’s been long enough for the sun to drift down to hover half-above the horizon. Techno’s been watching the sky all afternoon and those far-off clouds have begun moving in and start to open up their reservoirs, sending down scattering little flakes of snow.
“Phil, you don’t get it,” Techno despairs. “I have to finish this, or - ”
He stops himself. Can’t let him know, can’t let him help, can’t make Phil worry - If he can’t handle all the things he shouldn’t feel on his own, then he wasn’t good enough for the help anyway. That doesn’t make any sense, logically, and he knows that. It doesn’t change anything.
“Or what?” Phil probes, raising an eyebrow. “Techno. Or what?”
“Or else I’m not enough,” Techno says, looking away, not wanting to see Phil’s expression. He still catches a glimpse of it, the flash in Phil’s eyes and the minute down-turn of his mouth.
“Enough what?” Phil asks. Okay, so he might be just a bit more oblivious than Techno’d hoped.
Bits of snow fall on Phil’s hat and in Techno’s fur and on the hoods of both their coats. The sky darkens, just a tad, and it feels just a bit closer to earth. It rests heavily on Techno’s shoulders, leaving him a modern-day Atlas tasked with carrying the staggering weight of all his faults. The punishment is one he deserves, probably. There’s most likely some mistake of his that led to this feeling of - of unfeeling, of lacking, of every shattered shred of nothing.
“Worth - enough, for you, for everything,” Techno confesses, and this time his voice breaks unfettered.
The snow falls a bit thicker between them and the wind starts up, a low howl through the trees.
“Oh, Techno,” Phil says, full of worry and with a hint of that dreaded pity that Techno always forgot to expect.
In the silence that follows, Techno turns back to the fences. He takes out his axe and breaks down another post, replacing it with one pulled from his inventory. The process is repeated. With his axe, he reaches out for a third, but - a gloved hand on his arm, holding him back. Techno turns to Phil, the specks of snow blurring his vision. He can still see the way Phil’s face forms a portrait of unwanted concern.
Techno watches Phil take a deep breath in and prepares for the onslaught of deep discussion.
Instead, “Come inside, mate,” is all Phil says. “I’ll make hot chocolate.”
And as much as Techno wants to finish the fences, he also doesn’t want to be outside right now. The weather is shaping up for a storm - a dangerous one, too. The fence isn’t worth his life. (...right?) He doesn’t want to - he doesn’t want to die. That’s what he’ll keep telling himself, that he’s going to live another day. Why does that - why does it sound so unappealing?
He cuts that train of thought as short as he can. Saving that for later, when he has the space to mull that mess over. Now’s not the time to deal with things. It’s never the time to deal with anything, Techno thinks, only half-disparaging.
As Phil takes his hand and pulls him towards the door, Techno looks longingly at the remaining fence posts and tries not to think about how anyone with the slightest bit of worth, anyone who mattered, anyone at all would have finished that job in half the time it took him.
Phil closes the door firmly behind them as soon as he’s inside, blocking the falling snow, now coming down thick and fast. The sun must be either completely down or hidden by the dense cloud cover now, for the windows are all as dark as they are in the early, early morning. Phil goes around, closing curtains and checking the window latches while Techno tries in vain to work up the energy to take off his outerwear and move to the couch.
He watches in silence as Phil moves to the stovetop, getting out a pot and some milk. The burner is turned on, the milk is poured, and Phil turns to Techno, a bit surprised to see him still in his cloak and boots.
“You can take off your coat, Tech,” Phil says carefully.
Somehow, that’s the thing that allows Techno to muster the herculean effort to shed his outer layers and seat himself on the closest chair at the table. With a groan, he rests his head on his arms and tries not to think too much about anything at all.
He must’ve fallen asleep. Phil shakes him awake with a little, “Wake up, dumbass,” and a mug of hot chocolate set in front of him.
Techno sips the warm drink gratefully. He gives Phil a small smile and receives a smile in kind. Phil pulls out a chair adjacent to his and samples his own hot chocolate.
Outside, the wind howls and snow falls down on the roof. Belatedly, Techno realizes that he left Carl outside - he snaps his head up, almost moving to stand -
“I brought Carl to the stables,” Phil assures. “He’s all good.”
Techno sighs in relief.
“You know, I’m not going to - push you, to talk, or anything,” Phil starts. “But I want you to know I care about you, even when you’re a stubborn fuck who doesn’t care for himself. You matter to me and I hope you remember that.”
Techno’s a little surprised. It’s not like he thought Phil was going to ask invasive questions, per se, but everyone else always wants him to tell them his fears and anxieties and every bad thought he’s ever had.
“Thanks,” Techno replies. “I appreciate that.”
“I’m always here - if you need anything,” Phil reminds. “Or if you don’t need anything at all. I’m still here. You can’t get rid of me.”
“I - thank you,” Techno repeats. “That - means a lot. I care about you too, a lot.”
And the storm rages beyond the walls of the cabin, but inside is warm and safe and everything Techno could wish for. Everything’s still hard, of course, but it’s a little easier with Phil there.