Chapter Text
Alien’s were oblivious things.
When Techno was forced into learning about the basics of space in grade six, he knew he’d never want to go into a field around it. Space was vast, empty, unexplored and unexplainable. Stars were literal balls of fire and gas. It really wasn’t that interesting. Space was something he only researched for a passing grade, nothing more, nothing less. He was more interested in mythology and literature. His nose was always down into books of poems of Greek stories.
Now though, he wished he had paid more attention. Or gone to college for space exploration. Hell, even reading up on those crazy articles about alien wheat circles. But it wasn’t like he thought he was going to be the first human in a whole other galaxy. He was though and now he had to deal with it. He’s seen a lot of crazy crap since he’s been abducted and later escaped from aliens. But none of it mattered now, because it was hard to fear something that later treated you like you meant something.
Scoring a job with the Astral All Hands Company was scarily easy. After stealing a communion device, clothes to hide himself and threatening low life alien criminals into making him fake ID’s Techno was all set. No one asked twice about the fake planet that was listed on his ID or why they haven’t heard of it. Not after Techno explained that it was a small planet not many of his kind left. To them he was a simple alien with baggy and concealing clothing.
With all this in mind, Techno concludes that aliens are oblivious. It has to be in their nature to write things off because there’s so many species around, coming and going. No one would think twice about him being a human and he gave them no reasons to start. The SBI crew was like everyone else in that regard. The second he stepped foot on their ship they acted as if he was always there. Like he was something dancing in the background having finally come to life.
Captain Philza, or more commonly addressed as Phil, was the quickest to act normal around him. Maybe it was part of his job to be a good presence towards him. But he always found it weird how dad-like that man was. His wings always moved towards the crew's backs if he was sitting or standing next to you, as if he wanted to drape you in them. He also asked a lot of questions pertaining to his health. Like what can you eat, what’s poisonous, how many hours do you need to sleep per rotation.
Techno lied and excused his way out of some of them, not wanting to give himself away. It was always a close call with slip ups when it came to the older man. The company Astral All Hands had said offhandedly that his alien captain was something called an Elytrian. Techno had no clue what that meant, but he kept the fact in mind. Phil was an Elytrian.
Wilbur, the tallest crew member of the crew, was the second person to stop acting hesitant towards him. In the beginning he was cordial at best, shady at worst. For someone whose emotions were literally splattered onto their almost transparent and glittery skin, the guy could keep to himself. But when he warmed up to Techno he was like a whole other person. He called himself the older twin after finding out Techno and his birthday was on the same day. Even if the other was two years older.
He was the one that got Phil acting like a dad circulating in his head. He pushed for a family dynamic, one that he brushed off everytime. Techno couldn’t lie though, at times Wilbur acted like the protective older brother he never had. He remembers one night where he couldn’t fall asleep, horrible memories basking in the forefront of his brain. He had decided to walk the halls to get his energy out. Wilbur found him an hour later, soothing words and hesitant questions on his tongue.
It took only thirty minutes of talking with Wilbur before the older took him back to his room. He never entered, but he stayed at the door until Techno climbed into his bed. The other had closed the door and left after that, if the shadows underneath his door was anything to think of. Wilbur reminded him of a ghost, with his pale appearance. But unlike a ghost the other had a tail and his skin could change colours depending on his mood. It was kinda funny when Techno found out his species and it translated to Phantom.
The last of his crew was Tommy, a spider cat looking nuisance that took the longest to get used to him. The kid was actively annoyed and angry with his presence. He purposely got in his way, bad mouthed him like an Earth sailer and sent him death glares. Techno had hated the kid, but after overhearing Wilbur chastising him one night and Tommy explaining the real reason for his behaviour, Techno couldn’t find it in him to hate. Turns out they had had another crew member in the past that cloaked himself like Techno did. A Dreamon who had bonded with all of them.
He had left to carry on his studies after three years with them. Tommy didn’t want to get attached again, didn’t want to let Techno in. And that was fine, because he’ll be gone sooner than the Dreamon had ever thought to stay. He couldn’t help but not raise to the bait, to snap back at the kid. He doesn’t know when, but Tommy started to soften. The nuisance turned into a hyper young adult with a bad mouth with no malice. The other started to have genuine conversations with him, joined Wilbur in being a family dynamic truther.
Techno started to stop shutting the thought down. He never encouraged it, never believed it, but he let the two have fun. It wasn’t hurting anyone. And if in the middle of the night he thought a little less about Earth and more about space, then only him and his journal knew.
~~~
Philza
~~~
Even in space, thousands of light-years away from Earth, Techno was forced to do chores by a father figure.
“I wouldn’t ask you if I thought I could do this by myself, but I really need this done by the end of the day and you're the strongest out of the others.” Phil says as he guides him down the ship's many hallways. Phil sounded at least a little bit sorry for dragging him away from his work, his feathers puffing up in every direction. The galaxy coloured eyes on his pitch black forearms were staring at him, narrowed and glossy.
Techno had to remind himself that Phil wasn’t actually looking at him, at least not at the moment. The many eyes littering the form of the eldritch terrier of an alien were glossy, foggy, meaning they weren’t actually being used. It didn’t stop him from pulling the scarf around his face higher up, making sure to cover any exposed skin he could. “The strongest huh?” He grins. “Resorting to flattery captain?”
Phil stops in his tracks, his head snapping back to stare at him. Techno suppresses a flinch. He was like a creature from a horror movie and an owl made an alien child. That child would be Phil. “If it makes you less likely to bail on me, then yes. I’m resorting to flattery.” Phil tilts his head, his beak-like mouth chittering. A smile forms on his exposed bicep, right under one of his many eyes. Sharp white teeth poke out, creating a cheesier like grin. The eye above it loses its glossiness, its pupil sparkling like purple and blue diamonds.
“What am I being flattered to do anyway?” He asks. Phil’s head whirls back to the front of him, the eye on his bicep going back to being blurry and glossy.
“Just a little sorting.” He replies, beginning walking again. Techno hurries after him. “But I need the room fixed up and todays the only day I don’t have to do anything all week, but man the ship. Which I can do from anywhere.” Phil explains. He hums as they turn the corner. Phil stops as he presses his clawed hand against a sensor, the wall next to his opening up a second later. “Here’s the room I needed help with.” Phil walks in first, Techno coming in right behind him.
A little sorting was said lightly. The second he walked into the room it was like he came across a hoarder house. Well not really. Because a hoarder house would at least have minimal organisation. This room looked like a mess. Like someone had just started throwing random boxes and equipment in here. “I think you're going to need more than flattery to get me to clean this up.” He drawls, eyes racking over the blurry large room. Despite his words he was already thinking up an organisation plan.
Phil turns towards him, a full body turn. Not the horrifying owl head snap he sometimes does. “What if I make Tommy do your turn of the dishes this week?” Phil asks.
Techno thinks about it for all of two seconds. “Deal.” Phil chirps happily as he starts moving things around. Using his feat talons to make his work double as fast . Techno took a deep breath as he ventured further into the room. He picks up a box, checks what’s inside and starts sorting the small stuff. He does this over and over again and soon enough he starts to be able to see the immediate area’s floor.
Techno spends it chatting with Phil. The older man had many stories he loved to listen to, but would never admit he finds them interesting. This time around Phil was stringing a story about the time he escaped a bunch of animal traffickers looking to sell some of his feathers. He doesn’t bother questioning how Phil found himself faced with animal traffickers, just like how he never asks about the extra portions to his room every night.
An hour goes by with their chatter. Or maybe two, he’s not sure as the room doesn’t have a clock. By the time Phil’s stories start to sound more exaggerated, Techno’s half done his side of the room. Sweat beads down his forehead from all the heavy lifting combined with the many layers he put himself in. He rubs his forehead, taking a deep breath in. Techno looks over the pile in front of him and gets up, walking over to a particular stuffed box. He opens the top, peering inside.
He freezes the moment he sees what’s in the box. Laying on top of the box was an angsty teenager hoodie. The words Don’t Hug Me printed in big white blocky letters. It was dirty and had holes in it. He stared, mouth dropping open as he reached into the box. He let his gloved hands run over the letters. It was the same hoodie he was kidnapped in. He pushed it out of the way, looking at what else was in the box. It was everything he thought he had misplaced when he signed up to be part of the SBI crew.
He had spent days looking for this box of his belongings from Earth. The last pieces of a home lost. Was it really here the whole time? Had he had all this stuff in this ship with him just a few halls down? “What’s in there?” Phil asks, looking over from where he’s placing some equipment onto shelves.
Techno snaps his head up, eyes growing wide as he looks between the box and his captain. “Nothing!” He squeak’s, grabbing the box. He stands up quickly, jostling his stuff as he takes a step towards the door. “J-just some of my clothes.” Another step. “They must have gotten misplaced. I’ll just go put them in my room real quick and come back.” Phil chirps, a confused sound that causes him to turn and quicken his steps.
“I can take them to your room later, you don’t have to. I’m heading over to the bedrooms anyways to make sure Tommy didn’t steal any of the chemicals again-“ Phil’s cut off when Techno’s foot hits something left on the ground. He lets out a hiss of pain as he goes stumbling forward. The box hits the ground along with him, Techno going sprawling over the floor. He hears a panicked shriek, footsteps running over. He groans in pain, his toe throbbing as he looks up from the floor. He feels hands on him and he’s suddenly being lifted up into a sitting position.
Phil’s in front of him, his wings flaring out to encircle them both as his hands flit around him. Hovering over his body like he wanted to reach out. “Are you okay?” Phil asks, the eyes on his arms all losing their glossiness. It was easier to see Phil’s face up close, so it wasn’t hard to see the frown on his face.
“It's fine, Phil.” He sighs, rubbing his foot. “I just tripped, I’m fine.” The Elytrian looks down at his foot, then back up to him.
“Are you sure?” He pushes, hands falling to his sides.
“I’m sure.” Techno nods, pushing himself up into standing. Phil’s wings retract, another chirp falling from his lips. He bends down, quickly grabbing the spilled items and shoving them into the box. After all the clothes were put back into the box he stand, turning to head out and quickly put all this stuff in his room.
“Techno?” He stops, head turning to the side. Phil holds up a small blurry object. It was his black rimmed, square shaped glasses. He blinked, half expecting them to change into something else. “What are these things?” The question drives an invisible stake through his heart. He had found out pretty early on that glasses weren’t a universal concept. Along with communication devices, a form of contact was widely spread in space. Wilbur himself had told him that he wears alien contacts.
For some reason glasses are a human concept. Thought as primitive. Techno had been able to keep them by hiding them under his shirt or the waistband of his pants. It wasn’t a surprise that Phil didn’t know what they were. “…Glasses.” He replies. Seconds pass by in silence. Then he realises what he had just said and drops the box back onto the floor. It bangs, the sound startling the captain. Phil puffs up as he lowers the hand with the glasses in them.
Crap, crap, crap. Did he really just do that? Why couldn’t he just lie!? He’s good at lying! “Wait, that’s not what I meant-“
“You have bad eyes?” Phil’s eyes narrow, a soft coo coming from his beak. His fingers soften around the glasses, his other hand moving to cup them in a more secure hold. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I don’t have bad eyes.” He shakes his head, like he hadn’t just said they were his glasses. “There not… glasses.”
Phil looks up at him, his shoulders slumping. His wings flop to the ground, a clicking kind of sound coming from the other. “Techno…” He walks over, his steps too fast for him to back up. A clawed hand was on his shoulder in an instant. “You don’t have to lie about having bad eyes.” He lifts up his glasses, handing them over to one of his open hands.
Techno curls his fingers around the object, frown tightening. “You're not… mad?” He asks hesitantly.
The alien frowned as he stumbled around the room, hands out as he tried to figure out where he was. It hissed and warbled words he had no hope of understanding. Techno turns to stare at it, eyes narrowing to try and see better through the thick glass. “What?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t like that I can’t see without my goddamn glasses!?”
Phil’s hand squeezes his shoulder softly, his head tilting to the side. “That you need a seeing device?” He asks, like being mad at him needing glasses was a crazy thought. Back on Earth it was, no one cared past bullies stealing them off your face and chucking them down the hall. But in space his handlers had hated the fact he had trouble seeing. To the point where he was punished if seen squinting, or failing eye exams.
Before he was confused, yet still learned to guess the blurry blobs in front of him. He knows now it’s because they were trying to sell him, but the fear was still there. “I am mad I didn’t know, as your captain I need to know these things. But not at the fact you have trouble seeing. I could have ordered some contacts for you, like Wilbur has.”
Techno sucks in a calming breath. Being this close to the other was terrifying. It took one pull of his hood for his secret to be revealed. For everything he’s worked for to come tumbling down. “…Sorry.” He whispers, wanting to just run away. This wasn’t how he wanted today to go. No heart to hearts, no freak outs. He’s just lucky he hadn’t gone into an anxiety attack yet.
“You don’t need to be sorry.” Phil coos, taking a step back. “Just tell me next time if you need anything, or have problems that I can help with. I can probably get Wilbur to check your eyes over, maybe get you a pair of contacts.” The thought of being dragged to the medbay has him shaking his head.
“No, I can get by with these.” He holds his glasses up, looking over them. One of the glass pieces had a crack through it. It was from the time he fell onto them and broke it, well before his escape into outer space. “Thanks for the… offer, captain.” He nods towards the other and he picks his box for the third time. Phil visibly wilts at being addressed professionally but doesn’t say anything.
He looks back at the storage room. One of the eyes embedded in Phil’s wings looks at him, with hues of lavender and violet. “I’ll finish up this section, how about you go for a break?”
Techno takes his own look across the room, spotting boxes spilling out over the floors, objects haphazardly thrown on shelf’s and steel racks. Even after over an hour cleaning up and organizing the storage room looks like a mess. “Are you sure? I can keep working. It’s really not a problem.” He says while adjusting his hold on the box.
Phil rolls his shoulders, turning his body back around to face him. “Maybe for you, but my staminas spent. Make us some lunch and we can get back to it in an hour or so? Plus you’ll be doing me a favour, Tommy’s having lunch around now anyways.” He chuckles, making hand mostion to shoo him away. He rolls his eyes and finally leaves the room. If Phil wanted to set Tommy onto him that would be fine. He didn’t really want to keep going anyways.
Plus that was a close call anyhow. Techno needed to out this stuff away asap.
~~~
Wilbur
~~~
In a spaceship as big as the SBI, it wasn’t uncommon for Techno to find himself alone. Today wasn’t any different in that regard.
He had fallen behind on some of his duties after helping Phil fix up the storage room for hours on end, leaving him having to try and catch up. He can’t complain too much however, his job today consisted of writing and watering. Like most days when it came to his duties on the ship. There was never a dull moment for him.
Techno huffed out a harsh breath as he heaved up the giant watering can onto his shoulder, letting it sit there as he walked around the green house. He looked over most of the plants on the ship. It was a job that didn’t need a fancy paper saying he studied it for years. So it was perfect for someone like him. Alien plants looked so weird, which was kind of a shock. He knew everything would be different but at least he thought plants would still be green.
But no, the green house wasn’t very green at all. Instead it was an outstanding vermilion. Red stems with red trunks and leaves. Every once in a while he’ll spot a purple and blue plant, which he stayed away from. Those ones were poisonous. He had to learn that the hard way his first week on the job. Techno adjusted his glasses with his free hand as he came up to a bed of red stemmed flowers. He slowly took the watering can off his shoulder and started pouring it over the plants. The petals were a soft pink, almost as pastel as his hair.
He thought it went well with the overly red green house. After he was done watering he hefted the can back onto his shoulder and continued his rounds. He had to keep taking large breaths through a mask over the lower part of his face. There was hardly any oxygen in the room and a lot of gases that were harmful to him. The plants didn’t like oxygen that much and they didn’t convert the gas they do absorb into it either. He could practically suffocate in here.
After he finished watering all the plants that needed to be done today, Techno set down the now empty can and took out his notepad. He started to scrutinise the plants, taking notes on everything he could. He even jotted down where the plants came from when he remembered. He didn’t even get a quarter way done before the garden door slid open. He looked over towards the door. In walked Wilbur, his sharp tail flicking to the side as he looked around the room.
The moment the Phantom’s eyes found him the hue of his translucent and glittery skin changed. It went from its normal ashy grey to a faint blue. His hands began to look like he dumped them into a blue paint bucket. “Techno!” Wilbur greets, marching over.
“Wilbur.” He inclined his head, gaze moving back to the plant he was looking at. It looked like a pineapple. Well, if a pineapple was red and smelt like puke. He hated the thing. Who thought space pineapples were a good thing!? He jotted a few things down before turning back to his crewmate. “Did you need me for something?” He asks, watching as the other stares out across the garden.
The Phantom whips his head over to him at the words, his skin pulsing a yellow and light green hue. “Do I need a reason to visit my baby twin brother?” He says, purple blooming across his neck. The smirk on the other causes him to roll his eyes.
“I’m not your baby brother.” He huffs, moving his scarf higher onto the breathing mask he has to wear. It was definitely to hide his identity, not because his face was going red.
Wilbur hums sarcastically. His eyes narrowing on him as he takes a step forward. Techno soon feels a hand on the back of his neck, through the many layers of clothing he had drowned himself in. Wilbur holds his neck, dull fingernails scratching at the scarf like he would feel any of it. He lowers the notepad in hand, watching as blue returns to his skin. But this time came a dust of pink. “So why are you here again?” He asks, ignoring the way green shows up on Wilbur’s fingers.
“I just wanted to… hang out.” The other says slowly, looking at him like a kicked puppy.
“Tommy didn’t want to cuddle you and so you came to me, huh.” Techno pipes up as he walks away, the touch leaving. His heart burns for it to come back but he rounds the ugly pineapple like plant. He stops in front of a small sapling, it’s trunk red but leaves a vibrant dark green. One of the only Earth-like planets on the ship. He hears a churning like sound, like someone had put their ear up to a concrete mixer.
The other’s skin bursts out into an array of colours, but the meaning is all the same. Tommy did dump him to do something else. “He’s being a brat!” Wilbur replies, speed walking back over. The hand returns to the back of his neck, another planting itself on his arm. Wilbur settles himself right beside him, tail curling around his pant leg. “I only asked to accompany him because I’m done with all my duties for the day. But he told me to buzz off.”
“Ever thought that maybe I didn’t want to be interrupted?” He asks, looking up into white and grey eyes.
Wilbur blinks down at him, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “No.” He smiles, lifting the hand on his neck so he could rub his wrist on Techno’s scarf covered cheek. “It’s what makes you my favourite baby brother.” He scoffs, wiping his head back to the tree-like plant. The action combined with the fact Wilbur’s hand was still on his cheek causes his hood to fall off his head. The world slows, someone having pressed pause on reality.
His pink hair falls in front of his face, the loose man-bun he had done that morning dislodging. The notepad and pen thud against the floor. Bouncing once, twice before it settles and rolls across the ground. Panic bursts from his vines as he shoves Wilbur to the side and grabs his hood, time fast forwarding. He pulls the hood back over his head, swiping at his hair to get it out of his face. His chest squeezes with anxiety and he looks up, waiting for everything to go to shit.
What he didn’t expect was for Wilbur’s hands to be an inky blank. Techno finches at the stark change in emotions, especially because he’s never seen pure black before. Wilbur’s eyes were wide, his tail spikes flicking out. “Wilbur-“ He’s cut off by the taller alien rushing him. He flinches back but doesn’t have enough time to turn and run as Wilbur grabs his hands.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick!?” The other shouts, worry and panic gracing his voice. The translator squeaks in his ear at the quick volume change, causing him to flinch once again.
“Wa-what?” He manages to say before Wilbur’s hands are moving. One of his bony fingers lifts up a lock of his hair at the side of his face.
“You're losing your natural colour.” Wilbur states matter of factly, eyes racking over the curly strand he’s holding. Techno looks over, swallowing hard as he tries to see what the other was talking about. His once pastel pink hair was now dulled and if he looked up high enough he could see brown strands poking through. A whimper has him turning back to Wilbur, the other alien’s translucent skin continuing to turn a pitch black. From his fingers to his elbow.
“We have to go to the medbay, this is bad. You shouldn’t be this dulled.” The pure pain in Wilbur’s voice stuns him to the point he doesn’t even fight back as he’s dragged out of the garden. He has half the mind to try and fix his hood and scarf better as he’s pulled down the halls of the ship. During all of the manhandling his mind was racing. Not because he might have been found out, but because now Wilbur’s freaking out and he doesn’t know why.
When they make it to the medbay he’s shoved onto one of the medical beds. Wilbur begins to dart all across the room. He’s muttering and panicking so much the communication device can’t pick up on anything. “Wilbur.” He voices, having finally tucked his hair back into his hood. The ends were still poking out. It was hard for him to hide the amount of hair he had. He remembers complaining about it one day, Tommy replying that he could braid it for him.
Techno had almost taken the kid up on the offer before remembering that he couldn’t have the other braiding his hair without his hood being off. So loose man buns and ponytails it was. “Wilbur.” He says again, a little louder this time. Wilbur doesn’t stop opening cabinets and grabbing medical supplies. He lets him be for a second, only to immediately take the thought back when he sees the other grab a needle. “Wilbur!” He shouts, the other jolting with the volume.
Wilbur turns towards him, tail flicking back and forth anxiously. “Yes?” He squeaks out, speeding over. His hands start to hover and he has to ignore the urge to swat them away. Wilbur’s eyes darted all across him, stopping once more on his hood. He goes to grab at it and he leans but, shaking his head. The other freezes in place, another whimper coming from his throat.
“I’m not sick.” He states, voice firm.
Wilbur’s frown only grows more. “You don’t have to cover it up, Techno. We can- we can figure this out. I can tell Phil for you and we can go planet side to find a hospital…” Techno blocks out the other as he begins to ramble, watching as his eyes grow watery. The word sick was becoming more and more like dying.
He watches silently. “Wilbur.” He puts his hand on the other's shoulder. Wilbur stops talking, tail moving up to curl up around his waist. “I’m not sick.” He says again. “My hair…” He takes a bit of it out, letting it rest against his shoulder. “The brown is my natural hair colour, Wilbur. I used to put products in it to make it pink because I liked it better that way. But I don’t have products here so the pink is coming out.”
They stay there in silence for over five minutes. With Wilbur just staring at him, like he was going to keen over any second. Finally, after those very slow five minutes, Wilbur leans back. “So you're not sick?”
“I’m not sick.” He nods, letting his hand fall into his lap.
“You… changed it to pink?” Wilbur asks, eyes staring directly into him. He feels a shiver go up his spine as he looks into the white and grey void of his friend.
“I did.” He lifts up his hand, setting his palm on Wilbur’s cheek. The alien leans into the warmth of his palm, exhaling as his shoulders slump. The mental picture causes him to smile, holding back a laugh. A human comforting the tallest alien in the galaxy. One that looked so close to a ghost you had to take a step back to see the differences.
Wilbur lays his head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso. “You owe me Techno time for scoring the stars out of me!” Wilbur huffs.
Techno sighs, setting his head on his friend's shoulder. “Fine. But only for an hour, I still have work to do today.”