In the Beginning... [DreamSMP/SMPEarth book adaptation]

in absence

(Look at my Billiam. V proud :D)

Techno's POV———

I don't know how long I spent the day sparring with the scarecrow outside. It felt like hours. Hacking away at the wooden limbs and hay stuffed burlap body of the stupid thing with the sword Dad had crafted me before he had left long enough to make my forearms more sore than I thought possible. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck and my brown fringe was plastered to my forehead. Since when did the sun decide to get so hot?

"Techno?"

I swung around with my sword as my heart leapt to my throat only to see Wilbur scramble back in shock.

"Oh crap," I lowered my sword and sat down on a rock, still panting from the heat, "Sorry Wil, didn't expect for you to jump me like that."

Wilbur eyed the shredded scarecrow propped up in the practice field with concern, but nodded back to me, "I didn't jump you, you were just too busy throwing a tantrum."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a towel to wipe away the grime.

"No I'm serious, Techno." Wil sat next to me, "It's only been a few weeks since Dad left, you can't still be mad at him."

"I'm not mad."

"Sure, maybe we can ask Mr. Scarecrow over there that."

I pursed my lips and shot the scarecrow another glare, "Mr. Scarecrow asked for it."

"Sure." Wil repeated its a tight smile.

"And I'm not mad I just... I don't know how I feel." I stood up heaving my sword to keep practicing.

"Techno you've been out here all day, I'm surprised you haven't collapsed yet." Wil crossed his arms.

"Just 'cause you're taller doesn't mean I'm not strong."

"That wasn't what I was saying."

I exhaled and swung at the scarecrow, landing a hit in its side with an over the head spin.

"I'm fine, Wil."

Wilbur stood up and placed himself in between me and the scarecrow, "So that means you're ready to tell me what you and Dad talked about before he left?"

My ear flicked involuntarily and I huffed in annoyance, "No."

"Why not? Come on," Wil rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sitting into his hip dramatically, "I'm your twin, we're supposed to tell each other things. You can't just hold on to whatever is bothering you forever, Techno."

"I can and I will." I tried to move past Wil, but he moved so he still stood in my way, "Besides, it's not like it's any of your business."

"I think it is." Wil stood his ground defiantly.

I took a deep breath, "You know I'm the one that's supposed to be doing all this brotherly comfort stuff. I'm the oldest."

Wil smirked his trademark mischievous grin, "Only by two minutes."

"Two extra minutes it took you to come out of the womb because I'm better."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"There was a race to be born, and I won."

"You still haven't answered my question."

I sighed and looked at Wil again. He always was like this, trying to act like the comforter of the two of us. As if it was all up to him how I felt or what I was planning to do each day. He was like some sort of mother hen, which was annoying because he is younger than me and I don't care if it's only by two minutes and I don't care if he's taller. In the past couple of weeks its gotten to me a bit more. Ever since Dad left Wilbur has been trying more and more to act like some sort of figure of authority. Planning out days and weeks for "us" to be busy and to keep things in order for Dad to get back. And that meant pestering me to participate even if I just wanted alone time. Even if the small voice in my head tells me to go out and practice.

"Bug off, Wil." I said

"You should come inside anyways, you've been out here taking your anger out on a dummy all day. Tell me on the way to the house."

"I said no."

"Fine. At least come inside, you need water, Techno."

I grumbled and felt my ears flick with annoyance again. Wil was right, I mouth was so dry it could probably sand wood, "Fine, fine."

Wilbur perked up and smiled at this, "So that means you might tell me?"

"Every time you ask the chances of me telling you decrease."

"Jeez, fine."

I couldn't help but smile, I did still love him, even though he was a pain in the neck. I grabbed my stuff, sheathed my sword and swung it over my back, and started following Wilbur back to the estate.

——————-

"Hello Techno!" Jen's happy pitchy voice rang out when I entered the house. The sound made my own sensitive ears ring, but I smiled nonetheless, as Jen's voice was a pleasant one I quite enjoyed listening to.

She was in the kitchen backing what appeared to be bright pink cookie dough. A long curtain of shiny chocolate brown hair framed her face and was loosely pulled into a simple pleat. Her large brown eyes were squinting at a recipe book and her pale fair skin was coated in a soft layer of flower and pink food dye. Her face lit up once Wilbur and I walked into the kitchen.

"How was your practicing going, Techno?" She asked in her usual bubbly demeanor.

"It's going fine, I guess."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "He murdered the scarecrow."

Jen laughed at this, "Your father hated that thing too. Always spooked him and his silly crows going to the fields."

My mood soured instantly, but I remained placid. Simply nodding in response as Wil listed of a string of bird puns in between giggles. Luckily no one noticed.

Lucky me. I thought bitterly, The quiet and overlooked twin.

    It didn't used to be that way. Both Wil and I used to be adored by our father. I know he only left a couple of weeks ago, but I wanted him back so bad. I missed him. Already. He was going to be gone for a year and I already missed him after only just a few weeks. This year was going to be miserable.

    I remembered Jen mentioning Dad's crows. The pesky things followed him everywhere,, and he called them friends. There was never a time when my father was around when there wasn't at least one or two crows either perched atop him or hovering from a distance on a communicator wire or a tree.

    Ever since Dad had left the crows have been gone too. Only the the song birds and the occasional bird of prey remained. I guess it had something to do with Dad's powers, though whenever I asked him about it he claimed it was a very very long story. Which, now that I'm 11, I know is just some crappy adult excuse. There was no way it was that long of a story.

But I missed him so much. I missed how he would let me sit with him on his oak chair whenever he would read or tell us stories. I missed his hugs that he would give where he would envelop us both with his arms and with his soft wings. I missed the nights I had nightmares when I could go to his room for comfort. I missed when he would take me out to the pasture to train or tend to the gardens. I missed listening to him talk about those gardens as if they were a love long lost. I even missed his secretive ways, how he would stare for hours at old paintings in the house, how he would space out looking out the window, or how, whenever we asked something about this behavior, he would smile and say he would tell us when we're older.

    I missed my dad.
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