Chapter 1: When I Was A Child
Notes:
in light of recent news about techno, i can't finish this. it feels weird to me. i think i've been slipping out of this fandom for a while. i think this might just be my last straw. and not in a bad way. it's just sad, and i don't think that i could handle staying in this fandom with that sadness. and i realize that this may read like an excuse but it's not. i distance myself when things get hard. it's not really a good coping mechanism but doing anything else makes me feel trapped. eventually, i may come back and post a finished version of this chapter, but it's not likely. it's also not likely that i post anymore dsmp fanfic. i've made so many ideas and so many half-started fics that now just feel weird to finish. i hope you're all doing okay, and i hope you all take care of yourselves. grief isn't a bad thing, but it's something that can really take you down. stay safe.
(this was added to ch.1 on July 1, 2022)
Chapter Text
Tommy Innit, despite his arrogance surrounding them, hated his abilities.
Really, he hated them because his wings and telepathy were tied together. Whenever he used his wings, whenever they were out instead of safely stored against his skin in the form of a large tattoo, people’s thoughts would tear through his skull without any remorse. It was painful. He already had chronic headaches from his telepathy without it being enhanced by his wings.
Besides, there was no one around that could teach him to control it, so he just had to deal with the constant pain his abilities brought him. And it wasn’t that the thoughts were necessarily bad, it was the emotions that came with them. The emotions were what he could feel without his wings, they were what was strong.
And his wings — they hurt whenever they were stored away for long periods of time but were sensitive whenever they touched anything when they were out.
There were multiple reasons for that, Tommy knew, he didn't spend enough time devoted to strengthening his wings (how could he, he was constantly busy) and he didn't preen nearly as often (or well) as he should have. He had tried to get his flatmates, Tubbo and Ranboo to help him before, but they didn't have wings, they didn't know how to properly help him.
Tommy remembered the first time someone looked at him and thought ‘troublemaker’ simply because of the wing tattoo. He had been 13, about a month after he had learned to change them into a tattoo. He would be lying if he said that they thought didn’t hurt him. It had been so lined with disgust that he had to stop himself from shuddering.
He had taken to wearing long sleeve shirts after that.
He didn’t anymore, it was too annoying. Most of the time, he wore shirts with open backs, which caused an influx of slurs being thrown at him by those who thought that ‘feminine’ clothing was bad. He couldn’t help it, not really, shirts with open backs didn’t leave any sort of pressure on his wings, and allowed him to shift whenever he wanted.
It was after a glass bottle had been thrown at him that he started doing what Ranboo usually did, wearing button-ups (not done up, of course, but loose over his shirts).
It was a little more annoying since he needed to take it off every time he wanted to shift, but at least it didn’t put any pressure on his back.
----
Tommy first met Techno at Niki’s cafe.
He and Tubbo both worked there, but Tubbo had today off, meaning that he was at his apprenticeship. It was annoying sometimes, that they got so few shifts together, but at least when they were separate there was no chance of them being fired because they goofed off too much.
Ranboo worked as a personal assistant for some big-shot who Tommy couldn’t remember the name of at the moment. He did, however, remember the name of the place he worked at, A.E. Its actual name was The Antarctic Empire, (which in hindsight, is a pretty big red flag, why was a company named an empire) but everyone around called it ‘A.E.’ because they were lazy, and it was easier to shorten the name to two letters. Tubbo worked between 30 and 40 hours a week on average (at $16.35 an hour at his paying job. The apprenticeship, while an important thing he had going, took a lot of his time and didn’t bring any money) and Tommy 40 hours (at $16.25 an hour), Ranboo always brought in more than them. It was a relief really, that they knew that their rent would almost be completely covered by Ranboo’s paycheck. It was annoying though because Ranboo’s hours would fluctuate anywhere between 40 and 50 hours a week (at $17.50 an hour, which had caused them all to cry of joy when they learned).
They couldn’t complain, they pulled in almost $7200 every month after taxes had been taken off, and their rent was $2000 every month. They capped their grocery trips at $900 per month, which left them with a bit over 4 thousand dollars to do whatever they wanted with (not really, it was spent on clothes, new shoes, things for school and tech for projects they were working on). They did manage to save quite a bit of what they earned, though. They were responsible young men (teenagers, many would say, they shouldn’t need to be) and they never used their money in a way that could come to bite them in the ass later.
They were responsible young men, all of whom were working towards getting their secondary school degrees while working full-time jobs. It was stressful, but there was less than a year left for all of them, and with school being online, they were able to work on their off-hours, which was often early morning and at night.
Not to mention, Tommy was a vigilante as well, which meant that he spent at least 5 hours a day outside, running around and helping out wherever and whenever he could. There was even the odd time that an old man or woman would insist on giving him some cash after he helped them. He was doing his best around work, and his best outside of it. Tommy was smart and was able to balance himself between everything he had to do.
Anyways, Tommy first met Techno at Niki’s cafe. Techno came in one day, shoulder bleeding and in need of stitches. Niki had rushed him to the back immediately, ordering Tommy to get her the first aid kit, and to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed.’ It had been just the two of them then, with a third worker by the name of Jack out buying things from the local farmer’s market because Niki had wanted to try some new recipes out.
“I’m fine, Niki,” was the first thing he had heard him say when he walked into the storage room. The man was sitting on a stool that Niki had for some of her shorter employees (and sometimes her) to reach the higher shelves. “It’s just a scratch.”
Niki had just rolled her eyes, “Pass me the antiseptic, would you Tommy?”
Techno had sighed, unbuttoning the white shirt he had on to allow her access to the cut, “This is unnecessary, it’s not that deep.”
“Techno!” Her voice was barely louder than normal, but obviously, enough to get the man to shut up, allowing her to do whatever she needed to without complaint.
The thing about Niki is, everything she does that involves her hands is perfect. From stitches to cutting a piece of cake to shooting a gun. Niki would just say that she had steady hands but it was more than that, and she knew. It was her ability, she just wasn’t able to accurately describe it in a single word.
“What did you even do, Tech?” She asked him, pouring hydrogen oxide onto a towel she had grabbed before pushing it onto the cut.
He flinched at the sudden contact, “Nothing you need to worry about.”
She looked at him, head tilted to the side with her eyes narrowed.
He sighed again, obviously not wanting to argue with the one and only Niki Nihachu (no one did, it was boring, tiring, and a losing battle), “I got caught in the way of a mugging. Apparently, they didn’t like me stopping their cash grab.”
“Oh, Techno… You aren’t very smart at times.”
He just looked at her and smiled, shrugging his other shoulder, “What can you do, Niki? What can you do?”
“Maybe not get stabbed next time?”
Techno sighed before looking over at Tommy, “Anyways, I’m Techno. Haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?”
“Uh, I’m Tommy.”
“Nice to meet you, mind telling Niki here that she’s overreacting?”
Tommy shook his head, “I don’t think- I don’t think that’s the best idea. What Niki says goes.”
“See, Tommy’s a good boy, he understands.”
Good man , Tommy wanted to correct her, but felt uncomfortable being brash in front of someone he had just met. Someone who had stumbled into the bakery bleeding.
Niki’s voice was back to being soft when she started stitching up the cut, but she looked like she held no sympathy for the man.
“What’s with the tattoos, Tommy?” Techno asked him at one point, wanting to break the silence that had settled over the room.
“Oh, uh- I like wings?” It sounded more like a question than an answer, but Techno seemed amused by it, “I mean, flying’s pretty cool, you know?”
“So, it’s a full tattoo, then? Not just on your hands?”
“Yeah, it goes all the way up my arms. On my back, too.”
“Cool. You know, I know someone that can fly. He has wings. Says they can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“You do?” Tommy sounded excited, causing him to reprimand himself. Avian hybrids were uncommon, which is why he was so bad at preening, he had to teach himself.
“Yeah, old friend.” Techno was happy to say this, feeling only contentment while talking about the man he knew, which helped Tommy to calm down.
He would realize only later that, despite the fact he had been stabbed, Techno had never felt panicked in the slightest.
“There we go,” Niki said as she finished with the stitches, putting a bandaid on top, “I can get you one of Wil’s jumpers, if you want. Probably fit weird, but better than walking around in a bloody shirt.”
“Yeah, thank you, Niki.”
They watched as Niki left the back room, walking over to the door that led to the upstairs apartment that she shared with the man aforementioned, Jack.
Neither of them said anything, sitting in an awkward silence for a few seconds, before Tommy asked, “Who’s Wil?”
“Wilbur,” Techno supplied, “My brother. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet, if you work here.”
Tommy shrugged, enjoying the fact that Techno didn’t have any overwhelming emotions.
“I guess he just hasn’t come in while I’ve been working.”
Niki came back at this point, holding a beige jumper, “I think this one will probably fit best.”
“Thank you, again, Niki. You’re too kind for your own good.”
Niki just shrugged, walking out while grabbing Tommy, “You’ve done so much for me, only fair to return the favour.”
Tommy was curious as to what so much was.
----
The first time Tommy met Wilbur, neither were actually themselves. In fact, Wilbur was under the alias of Zephyrus, and Tommy had been dubbed ‘Theseus’ by another villain, a villain that Zephyrus was close with.
Tommy didn’t understand it, not really. He didn’t want to be called Theseus, it was a stupid name, he found. Why in the fuck would he want to be named after someone so horribly advertised, anyways? Theseus wasn’t a good man, not with the way he treated the women in his life. Tommy would never treat a woman that way and was appalled by even the slightest implication that he might.
The women in the life, ones still in it and ones that had left (ones who were nothing much more than a smiling face and a cheerful tune) were the ones who had kept him alive, for better or worse.
Tommy would’ve preferred to be called almost anything else.
To be completely transparent, he wasn’t as peeved by the implication so much as being named after one of the most popular greek heroes.
Why Theseus?
Yeah, he was stuck on it, sue him.
Besides, the villain who named him was called Notos . Notos wasn’t a god (Anemoi, whatever) that too many people were familiar with, so why the fuck would he name Tommy after someone who people were?
Like, the Big Three of the villains were named Boreas, Zephyrus, and Notos. Which, Tommy didn’t really understand, were only three of the four wind gods (again, Anemoi, whatever). He didn’t understand why you would name yourself after a group of four when you were a group of three.
Maybe they had a fourth once, or maybe they still did and that person just didn’t come out of their hidey-hole, which was usually the case with Zephyrus. Maybe they didn’t like confrontation? Whatever, Tommy thought.
Anyways, the first time Tommy met Wilbur, neither were actually themselves.
Zephyrus had been chasing him up a building after Tommy had busted a deal. Tommy honestly wasn’t sure what he had stopped, but anything that brought out Zephyrus wasn’t good. Zephyrus was only out when his partners needed assurance that something would happen, so Tommy stopping that assurance was sure to get him on some sort of list.
Tommy, during this time, had been wearing a zip-up sweater, as it was the only way that any of the three could think of to cover his arms and back. He tugged his gloves off as he ran up the stairs, as well as unzipping the sweater.
No matter how many times he did it, jumping off a building never got any easier, which is why he usually let himself be pushed off, or just let them think he fell off because that seemed to be easier than running and jumping.
Alas, Tommy didn’t think Zephyrus would push him off. He fucked up a deal, that meant Zephyrus would want to talk to him. Where did he get the information? How did he know? How was he even able to stop it?
So, of course, it was just his luck that the second he was about to jump, Zephyrus managed to get a clear field of view.
“Stop,” His voice reverberated through Tommy’s body, “Turn.”
Tommy’s body listened, despite his want to throw himself off the building.
“Who are you?”
This was where Tommy had license to move, ‘who are you’ is a question that can be answered very broadly, “A nobody. To you, at least.”
“Oh, no, you are very much a somebody to me. What’s your name?”
“Theseus,” Tommy said, rolling his shoulder slightly, pushing the zip-up down, making it loose.
“You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Listen, you’re on the roof of a 50 storey building, you’re not getting down. So, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
“You don’t fight, Zephyrus. That’s known.”
The man groaned, muttering “Hard way it is,” His head snapped to the side, “Just because I don’t doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“And just because you don’t know something doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“The fuck does that m-EAN?” His talking was cut off by Tommy falling off the building. He had pushed his feet together when Zephyrus had told him to stop, which fucked up his balance, making him fall.
Zephyrus ran to the edge of the building, jaw clenching when he saw something way too big to be a bird gliding away, “Dad’s gonna be fucking pissed.”
----
“Notos! You fuckin’ liar! Where are you?”
The man grunted, looking up from his book at his brother, “What?”
“Theseus? Yeah, he’s a fuckin’ avian.”
That got the man’s attention, and he sat up, “No, he’s not. I would’ve seen his wings.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Zephyrus asked, pulling his mask off of his face and pulling a chip out, throwing it at his brother. “Go ahead, check.”
Notos rolled his eyes, opening the laptop he had placed on the coffee table a couple of hours ago, forgotten due to packages being delivered.
He pulled up the video of that day, skipping through until his brother stopped him, “Here. Watch.”
Sure enough, Notos was right, the man in the video had no wings, but then he let himself fall off the building, “The fuck-”
“Shut. Watch.” The man said, pointing to the screen, “Fucking wings.”
“You’re telling me he sprouted wings?”
“No, ‘cause I would sound crazy. But that’s what the video is saying.”
Notos looked at his twin, “Go shower. I’m gonna go get Dad.”
Chapter 2: The Things I Was Afraid Of
Summary:
The rain started 7 and a half minutes into Tommy’s 15-minute wait. It wasn’t too bad at first, just drizzling but less than 30 seconds later, the sound of the rain increased tenfold, and when he looked out the window, the entire street was drenched. He watched for a while, almost jumping out of his skin at the sound of thunder (which, despite his love for lightning and his knowledge that such great power would always come with some sort of tell, would always scare him), and the sky was illuminated for half a second.
Notes:
hi :D i have an appointment at 11 but i can't fall asleep so second chapter pog
the idea for Techno/Notos's power came from SilverWing15, so credit to them
Chapter Text
Wilbur S̶o̶o̶t Minecraft hated the dark. It wasn’t fear, he’d tell you, he just despised the dark with the force of a thousand suns.
(He could probably give you a couple of dozen excuses as to why he hated it, but none of them would be true. After all, why would you tell someone that the reason you hate the dark is because it reminds you of the time you died? How would they fucking react? Especially those religious little shits.
He’d heard the things from them before, ‘It’s because you went to hell,’ or ‘You must repent. Repent now, pray with me,’ or, his personal favourite, from the Eggpire, ‘You were rejected. The Egg will have nothing to do with you. Leave this holy place.’ And honestly, the Eggpire was anything but holy. It was much more a cult than a religion.)
His family knew this, of course, which is why no matter the situation, they always carried something that could emit light.
He felt as though they pitied him the first he learned of that. He felt as though they were treating him like glass, like something that could break if they held it wrong. He was anything but weak, anything but glass (at least, he was now, at the time he had been like a Prince Rupert’s drop, something that was so incredibly strong and weak at the same time).
He knew now that they did not pity him for his death. They were just scared, that they still are. Wilbur doesn’t fear death, mind you, not since he’s experienced it. The reason he hates the dark is because it reminds him of the loneliness he experienced.
It had been weird. He could see his mother, he could see her trying to get to him, and he tried to get to her, but they couldn’t get any closer.
Wilbur thinks now, that maybe that was because the After knew that he wasn’t going to stay dead. That it was because he wasn’t destined to die, not at that time. Or maybe that’s just what he hoped.
Alas, time in the After was weird, and while he was only dead for less than 3 minutes, it had seemed like an eternity there. It had seemed like an eternity of being able to see his mother and being unable to get to her.
He hated the dark because it reminded him of his helplessness.
----
Techno B̶l̶a̶d̶e Minecraft did not fear the dark, unlike his brother. In fact, the dark was something that he adored, something that he found his control in, something that brought him peace (is his peace in shadows with colourful eyes and playful barks, forever wanting him to give them just a second more of attention, or is it in the ones with black eyes and taunting laughs, forever whispering their bloodlust to him? He doesn’t know, and that is what scares him.)
Techno B̶l̶a̶d̶e Minecraft was scared of what he could cause if he so wished. He was scared of the extent of his power, of looking through a shadow’s eyes at a building left to burn and feeling the grip of satisfaction sinking in, begging to be there, to properly bask in the heat. It begged him to revel in the light that created dozens of shadows that weren’t his to control, dozens of monsters that would be gone the second the fire was extinguished.
He was scared of the way his shadows curled into his injuries, healing him at a rate matched by no one he knew, giving their life to him.
He was scared because he hardly knew pain. He was scared of the ever-lasting grip of mortality, the ever-looming threat of pain, of death.
He was scared of leaving behind what he loved, being left behind by what he loved. Perhaps death wasn’t awful, but perhaps it was what came with it that was. Perhaps it was that being left behind by what he loved was the worst thing you could do to him.
Or perhaps it was the pool of blood surrounding his mothers’ head like a halo, forging an angel in her death. Perhaps it was the blank stare in her still-open eyes, staring at someone that was no longer there. Perhaps it was in her reaching out to her youngest child, desperate to comfort him, even in her death.
Perhaps it was the small, bloody handprints painted onto his mother’s face by the youngest of them, the one who was the oldest he would ever be. Perhaps it was the desperation in them, the way that they were painted onto her shoulders, her side, as though he had been trying to wake her up. Perhaps it was the way she would never wake up again, and the way that the youngest hadn’t understood that.
Perhaps it was the way his father had broken down, his whispered pleas to something, to anything that would listen to him. Perhaps it was the way he closed her eyes for her, kissed her forehead and then stood to pull his children away from the grotesque scene, not wanting them to remember more than they must. Perhaps it was the rage that had followed immediately after, the way he had studied the video for days, the way he had torn through person after person, promising that he would get justice for his wife, for his missing son. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t want justice, but instead revenge.
Perhaps it was in the way that his twin brother had looked numb to losing the only person that had been constant throughout their 12 years. Perhaps it was in the way that he had locked himself in his room and threw everything to the ground. Perhaps it was in the way that he had left his room with red eyes and puffy cheeks hours later, only to lock himself in their brother’s room. Perhaps it was in the way that Wilbur hadn’t spoken for weeks after, or in the way that he hadn’t played the guitar for months.
Or perhaps it was in the fact that Techno still found himself grabbing an extra cookie at times, only to remember that the boy he wanted to give it to didn’t exist in anything but his memories anymore.
----
Philza Minecraft was scared of himself. Not all the time, but there were times when all he could feel was bloodlust, and he would even crave the feeling of his own children’s blood against his hands. It scared him, that he could love someone so much and yet also be able to wish for their death. To love someone so much and yet also be able to cause their death, as he had with his wife.
It had been an odd day, and he hadn’t killed her, not directly, but it was because of him that she was dead.
It was because of him that the younger of the twins had died.
It was because of him that his third son was dead as well.
All their deaths fell on him, and even though he never felt the blood of the youngest (hot and red and sticky and so, so heart wrenching ) against his hands, he knew that it was there, forever staining his hands, despite their colour never changing from the white they had been ever since he was born.
It had been too long since he last visited their grave. He would go tomorrow.
----
The thing (person, what the fuck, something reprimanded) Tommy was most scared of was Boreas. Well- yeah, he was most scared of Boreas. At least, that was his biggest fear that wasn’t… existential , the word would be.
Another of his aliases was literally ‘Angel of Death,’ could you blame him? But, Tommy supposed it wasn’t fear so much as it was hatred and envy. Boreas had people that he could trust with his wings. Boreas had wings that were never in pain, and he was never in discomfort because of them.
Tommy envied Boreas’s ability to fly without his wings cramping.
It was stupid, really. A vigilante, a person who had sworn they would protect, should, in no way, envy a villain. So why couldn’t he stop?
Why couldn’t he stop envying someone who would kill him without a second thought if Tommy got in his way?
Why couldn’t he bring himself to want Boreas to be locked up, for all the pain he had caused? Was it because the worst thing you could do to an avian be to ground them? Was it because he, himself knew exactly what it felt like to be grounded, to be shackled and to be screaming to fly, crying for his wings as they were clipped?
Tommy’s wings ached. Whatever. He was used to the pain at this point.
----
It was 12:32 am on a Tuesday when a man wearing a bright yellow crewneck and a black trenchcoat walked into Niki’s cafe. He walked to the counter and ordered a blueberry scone and a caramel macchiato.
After receiving them, he sat down at a table in the corner of the store, pulling out a book and a pencil.
Niki had been baking in the back when he had entered, bringing out several plates of different muffins after he had been sitting a couple of minutes.
After placing the muffins in the display cases, she glanced around the bakery-cafe, her gaze stopping on the highlighter man.
She placed her hand on Tommy’s arm, her gaze still on the man, “Would you be alright if I took a break?”
“Uh- yeah, It’s dead anyway,” He let out a small laugh.
She nodded, giving him a smile before untying the apron wrapped around her waist, hanging it on a hook in the back and sitting down at the same booth Highlighter Man was in.
It was dead in the bakery-cafe (what with Highlighter Man in one corner with Niki and no one else), which Tommy found just slightly worse than the lunch rush, his fingers tapping against his thigh as he almost prayed for someone else to come in.
What happened next was even better (for him at least), the lights flickered a few times before going out.
A flashlight was turned on by Niki, who stood, frowning and saying that she was going to check the breaker.
The world outside the windows flashed white for half a second, and Tommy smiled at the lightning. He vaguely remembered someone telling him that the lights during storms were the old gods parting the sky, peering through the illusion they had painted so many eons ago to look upon the world they had shaped.
Tommy grabbed his phone from a pocket in his apron, turned the flashlight on, walked out from behind the counter and collapsed onto one of the booths.
The man in the corner and Tommy sat in silence until Niki came back, “Well, it’s not a breaker.”
“That’s shit,” Tommy said, watching as Niki placed several candles across the counter, lighting them using matches she had stowed away in a drawer in the back (No, Tommy, you’re not allowed to touch these, you’ll burn everything ー or yourself!) .
Niki sighed, shaking her head, “If the power doesn’t come back on within the next 15 minutes, how about you just go home, Tommy?”
The boy shrugged, “If you want, Niki.”
“In the dark?” The man in the corner asked, “That sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
“It’s not that far, besides I’ve been walking from here to there for years,” He shrugged again, one arm slung over the back of the booth as he turned to look at The Highlighter, “I’ll be fine.”
The man’s face, only slightly illuminated in the warm light of the candles, screwed up and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something else, but he shook his head, thinking against it. Tommy was grateful for this, he didn’t know this guy and didn’t really feel like talking to him more than he had to.
He lied back down in the booth, his head resting against the cold glass that separated him from the street. He unlocked his phone, shooting Ranboo and Tubbo a text that the power had gone out, and that he might be home sooner than they had expected and then opened his school email, sighing when he found one from his English teacher.
It wasn’t too bad, a couple of corrections on his last essay, a note saying that he should try to attend the virtual meetings and hopes that everything was alright.
A couple of minutes passed in silence, and Tommy spent the entire time trying not to make any noise because no one else was and doing so felt like it would be a death sentence.
The rain started 7 and a half minutes into Tommy’s 15-minute wait. It wasn’t too bad at first, just drizzling but less than 30 seconds later, the sound of the rain increased tenfold, and when he looked out the window, the entire street was drenched. He watched for a while, almost jumping out of his skin at the sound of thunder (which, despite his love for lightning and his knowledge that such great power would always come with some sort of tell, would always scare him), and the sky was illuminated for half a second.
He felt Niki’s frown from wherever she had sat in the cafe, and for a second focused on the whisper that made its way through her mind, -Coming down too hard. I should get him to stay.
Her thoughts were quiet (a soft breeze on a hot day, offering him a respite from the heat that scorched the green meadow where he once resided, whether that be in a literal or metaphorical sense), which was a wonderful mercy that came alongside a wondrous person. He owed much to her, and the fact that she had no idea just how much help she was, just how much of a godsend she was, was something he found himself unable to comprehend on a daily basis.
Highlighter Man stood up, “I should be going, Niki. Have a good,” He waved a hand as he paused for half a second, looking for the right word, “Night, I suppose.”
“No, Wilbur, you will not be walking home in this rain. Not in the dark, either, I won’t allow it.”
Highlighter Man (newly christened with the name of Wilbur, which was familiar, though Tommy couldn’t put a finger on why ) frowned as though he had tasted something bitter, “I have things I need to do.”
“You will get sick, Wil. That’s not something you can avoid if you leave.”
“Niki-”
Her head turned to look at him, her mouth set and her eyes a field of ice, and leaving no room for argument, she said, “You are not walking home in this weather. Either of you,” She added, glancing over at Tommy.
Tommy, despite the annoyance he felt emanating off of Wilbur (Highlighter Man was a better name, Tommy thought), shrugged. He had spent nights in the cafe before, both Tubbo and he had, at one point or another. Even Ranboo, before he found a better paying job. Whether it be needing her medical expertise, getting into a fight with one another or just passing out in one of the booths after a shift, Niki’s bakery — and her apartment, for that matter, were always open to help them.
“Call Techno if you really have things that need to be done, but I will not allow you to walk home.”
And then Tommy knew where he recognized the name Wilbur from. It was the name of the dude who left jumpers at Niki’s, one of which Niki had given to the dude whose shoulder she had stitched up, whose name, if Tommy remembered correctly, was Techno. Which lined up with what Niki had just said to Highlighter Man.
“And Tommy?” She asked.
He raised his head to look over the booth at her, “Yes, Niki?”
“If the storm doesn’t let up, I want you to stay here tonight.”
“Alright, Mum .”
She rolled her eyes at the teen, and he laughed. She turned to prevent him from seeing the smile growing on her face, but he could feel the emotion from where he was sitting, and he fell back, content.
Wilbur jumped as thunder shook the building. (He wasn’t a big fan of thunderstorms. Or rain, Tommy figured.)
Niki, ever the saint, ran upstairs at that moment, leaving Tommy alone with Highlighter Man again.
“Uh, hi,” Wilbur said, walking over to the booth and sitting opposite of Tommy, “So we’re both gonna be here a while, I guess.”
“Mhm,” Tommy eyed the man, “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“You’re talking to me. Why?”
Wilbur shrugged, “Bored, I guess. Niki just kinda… ditched us.”
“Yeah, well.”
“So, you work here.”
“Clearly,” Tommy raised an eyebrow.
Wilbur laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “No, I just mean- I come here a lot. Surprised I haven’t seen you before, especially because you said you’ve worked here for years.”
“Well, I’m not.” He said, tilting his head at the man, “You come here, what, couple times a week? Probably early morning or late at night,” He gestured vaguely around them, “I don’t work morning shifts and it’s not often I take night shifts. ‘Sides, you might’ve and just not really paid me much attention, who knows. What’s most surprising about us not having met is that you’re real good friends with Niki ー so is your brother, from what I can tell. You’re a couple years apart, so probably family friends, maybe you helped her out with something in school. So, really what’s most surprising is that Niki didn’t introduce us, or ask for your input in hiring me, seeing as she clearly appreciates your opinion.”
The corner of Wilbur’s mouth pulled to the side, though Tommy couldn’t tell if it was in distaste or in amusement, “How’d you know I have a brother?”
“Came in here a couple weeks ago. Am I right?”
Wilbur tilted his head, pausing to think for a second, “2 or 3 times a week, often between now-ish and 8. Our parents had a business deal, my brother and I met her when we were probably 16, she was 12, I think, or had just turned 13. Niki and Tech, my brother, as you know, had an argument about the book she had been reading, she won, they hit it off. Took me a couple more weeks to actually become friends with her, she gave me a muffin randomly and then left. I was confused but the next time I saw her, I got her a muffin in return. She tried to teach me how to make the muffin she had given me, but I was useless, and then we just ended up pouring the batter on my brother.” Wilbur pushed his hair back, letting out a sigh, “I suppose I should be happy that you think she appreciates my input, she doesn’t, but she does appreciate my brother’s, so if anything she would’ve asked him his opinion,” He rolled his eyes, “Something about him being better at understanding different opinions, which I don’t see at all. So, I suppose you were half right.”
Tommy bit the side of his mouth, and then shrugged, “I’ll take that.”
“How old are you?”
“Why do you care?”
“Curious. Making small talk.”
“Small talk is weird, dude. It’s something created by society that makes everyone uncomfortable and yet everyone abides by it. It’s weird.” Tommy made eye contact with Wilbur, and then broke it after a second, wincing, “I’m eighteen.”
“He’s seventeen,” Niki said, emerging from the stairs that led to her apartment.
Tommy stuck his tongue out at her.
“Well, I’m 23.”
“Damn, you’re old.” Tommy said, his head turning so fast that the word ‘whiplash’ flew through Wilbur’s brain before he processed what Tommy had said.
Wilbur scoffed, “Yeah, alright.”
“Did you call Techno?” Niki asked, sliding into the booth next to Wilbur and placing a deck of cards on the table.
“Texted him. He hasn’t responded. He’s probably ignoring me again.”
Niki just chuckled, “What do you want to play?”
Wilbur shrugged, “What does he know how to play?”
“ He,” Tommy said, “knows how to play next to nothing. Rummy, Go Fish, and Crazy Eights.”
“Rummy, then?” Niki asked, already shuffling the cards.
Both Wilbur and Tommy shrugged.
“Rummy, then,” she nodded.
----
Tommy sat on a bench in the park near where Bad’s Books was.
The sun was setting, casting the park in shadows and pink-orange light. It was Tommy’s favourite place to be at this time of the day, the way that the park seemed to come even more alive under the dying sun.
A cat walked by him, and he had to do a double-take when he recognized the siamese cat.
Antfrost had mittens, and it was something that Tommy found adorable, despite his insistence that dogs were the superior species. Antfrost was Bad’s cat, and Tommy found himself standing up to return Ant to the man.
Bad’s store was a cat book store, he insisted, despite the fact that there were only two cats and both were ones that he had had before he opened the store.
As he picked up the cat, something brushed his hand, and he jumped at it, looking to see nothing.
He let out a breath, though the emptiness didn’t relieve the chill that had crawled up his back.
Ant bumped his head into Tommy’s and then lied down in his arms, purring loudly.
Tommy laughed slightly, smiling at the cat.
“You like cats,” The voice startled him, and he turned, expecting to see a random person standing there, surprised at the fact that Theseus was, in fact, human and experienced the same joys as one.
Sitting on the bench he had vacated not even a minute ago was no stranger. Or, well, he was well known, at least. He was still technically a stranger to Tommy as they had never met in person before.
Notos pet a purple-eyed shadow that laid next to him, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Uh. Yeah. Alright?” Tommy cringed, why was he talking to a villain?
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah.”
They stayed there, staring at each other, for several seconds.
Notos cleared his throat, “You, uh, you fucked up Zephyrus’ deal.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, and then straightened as an orange-eyed shadow rubbed against his legs, taking a step back, “I did do that. I would say sorry, but that's a bit useless, innit?”
"Yeah, kind of is," Notos said, and then whistled at the shadow that seemed to be pouting at Tommy.
It trotted over to him happily, climbing onto the bench beside him and then jumping at the purple shadow.
Purple jumped off the bench and Orange followed.
Tommy tilted his head in confusion when they started playing together like puppies.
Notos followed his gaze, sighing, “Hey!” he called at them, and then pointed to the trees, “Go!”
They ran off, nipping at each other as they did.
“What the fuck?” Tommy asked, though there was no heat to the question, instead just confusion.
Notos rubbed his face with a hand, and then pushed his pink hair back, “They’re living beings… kind of,” He shrugged, “It’s hard to explain, whatever, back to what I was saying. You fucked up Zephyrus’ deal, and then just… got away. Flew away, in fact, which is very odd because you don’t have wings.
Tommy laughed nervously, “Yup, don’t have wings. I’m just… a normal who likes fighting crime.”
Notos groaned, standing up, “Listen, I couldn’t give a shit whether you’re normal or not. If you have wings, which clearly you do because I’ve seen video evidence, then Theseus doesn’t suit you because you would just survive being pushed off a cliff.”
“You’re annoyed that the name you gave me… doesn’t fit?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Oh,” Tommy said, shifting his weight from foot to feet, ball to heel, “Would now be a good time to mention that I never actually liked the name? I mean, Theseus was kind of a wrongun, wasn’t he? Not like me at all.”
Notos titled his head, “You’re a vigilante. What you’re doing is illegal.”
“Yeah, but it’s for the greater good. Means to an end, and all that.”
What was he doing? Why was he casually talking with a villain? Why was he talking with Notos of all people?
The man hummed, “Go bring that cat back to Bad. He’d appreciate it.”
“I was… going to. Wait, you know Bad?”
“Everyone does. He scares me, but everyone else likes him so,” He shrugged, "Anyways, I'm just gonna... go now. Nice to finally meet you."
"Yeah," Tommy said, "Likewise."
The man walked into the trees and then disappeared.
"What the fuck? Did he just teleport? Antfrost, what the fuck was that?" He glanced down at the cat, who was still happily lying in Tommy's arm, purring his contentment.
Chapter 3: The Things That I Believed In
Summary:
“Yeah, those ones. So, as the story goes, they weren’t always black. In fact, they were perfectly white. And Apollo, you remember him, the Greek god of the sun, he had this lover, her name was Coronis. She was a princess. So, she was Apollo’s lover, but since he’s a god and has all these godly things to do, he couldn’t stay with her. Instead, he got the crow to watch over her. But, over time, Coronis fell out of love with Apollo and instead in love with a human man named Ischys-”
“Why would you stop loving a god?” Tommy asked, and then, “Bless you.”
“I don’t know, kid. Love is weird. It’s not something that you can help."
Notes:
writing fanfiction while the rest of my family is awake feels very odd. also, i don't think i've said this, but the chapter titles are from 'Thus Always To Tyrants' by The Oh Hellos
ALSO!!!!! READ THIS!!!!
i am in no way qualified to properly do first aid, so take everything said here with a grain of salt. there are likely medical inaccuracies and those, while not intentional, are also what is likely to be done by three seventeen-year-old boys with no proper medical training. please do not attempt to give yourself stitches. go to the E.R. however, this is a story about a vigilante, in a world where heroes and villains exist, and the boys do not trust anyone enough to get help.
TW // medical inaccuracies (?), blood and injury (not very descriptive, but it's still there), referenced child abuse, drugs (painkillers)
Chapter Text
Techno abhors being called selfish. It’s the one thing that nobody is allowed to call him.
He’ll let other things slide. He’s been cursed out more times than he’s willing to count. He’s been called a million things that shouldn’t pertain to him.
But being called selfish? That’s the one thing that sets him off.
And perhaps it doesn’t make sense to leave someone to bleed out for a single word. And perhaps he would regret it later and go back but the man will no longer be there. Perhaps he would walk to the spot where blood should be and there would be none, instead replaced by a puddle of water. And perhaps he would hope that it was only something he had imagined. Perhaps he would go home that night and scream at himself in that mirror. And perhaps he would not sleep that night.
But the future is not the present and he grabbed a knife and cut deeply along the inside of Theseus’ left thigh.
And then, for good measure, he took the man’s head in his hands and bashed it against the ground.
----
Tommy was confused. His head was spinning and a fluttering of red crawling onto the roof above him only furthered it.
He couldn’t make sense of his surroundings, and the words Tubbo was saying to him were just noise.
His hands pushed against the deep cut on his thigh.
Tommy groaned, forcing deep breaths to clear his head.
The back of it ached, and he was almost certain that he had a concussion.
His mouth was dry, and his throat burned, begging him for water.
“I’m sending Ranboo,” He heard Tubbo say, and had no objections.
The enderman hybrid appeared a couple seconds later in a flurry of purple particles, and then something was being tied tightly around the top of Tommy’s thigh.
Tommy groaned as a black mottled man wrapped an arm behind his neck, his head protesting as a hand touched where it had been hit.
He wasn’t focused on Ranboo, his eyes closed and thoughts running around in an attempt to stop thinking about the pain, but judging by the way the man flinched and pulled his arm back, his head was bleeding as well.
Yay.
His head had mostly stopped spinning, but that only made him realize just how much pain he was in.
The back of his head ached, and the pain stretched out like a spider web, both out and around his skull and inwards, sharpening when Ranboo moved and light flooded his eyes.
“Get us home, man. Need to stop the bleeding,” Tommy said, his eyes pinched shut tightly.
“Yeah, one second, dude. Kind of need to…” He trailed off, but Tommy was familiar with Ranboo and knew exactly what he meant.
Teleporting while you were bleeding was dangerous.
Teleporting in general was dangerous.
Whatever.
Ranboo pulled Tommy’s hands away from the cut on his thigh for a second and then wrapped something directly around the cut, tying it tightly.
Tommy flinched, but otherwise didn’t move, “Probably need stitches. Tubbo good?”
“I don’t know,” Ranboo wrapped an arm around the back of his neck again, gently placing his hand on the back of his head. His other hand was placed on Tommy’s chest, “Ready?”
“Absolutely not. Do it.”
And then his pain increased tenfold, and he was no longer lying on the cold concrete of a city alleyway, but the linoleum of his apartment.
He felt Tubbo’s distress the second he properly realized where he was, and groaned at the amplified pain in his telepathy at the moment.
His head started spinning again, worse than it had before. He placed his head against the tiles, forcing himself to focus on deep breaths to combat the increasing lightheadedness. The back of his skull protested to the pressure, but he was fine with the pain if it meant not smacking his head against the floor again when he passed out.
Not if.
He knew he was going to pass out. He was familiar enough with what happened immediately before to know that, but he still tried to combat it.
It was bad enough that Tubbo and Ranboo were running around to find their first aid supplies and to sterilize the counter, but it would be even worse for them if he passed out.
“Gonna pass out,” He managed to say in the end, because he couldn’t help it, and his head turned to the side as he fell unconscious.
Ranboo almost dropped the kit he was holding, and ended up throwing it onto their table before running to check his friend.
Fingers pressed against Tommy’s neck, and a relieved breath was let out at feeling a pulse.
Tommy woke up a couple minutes later on their counter, which had been used to clean and close so many of his injuries that it was a surprise that it wasn’t stained red with his blood.
Tubbo was cutting the leg of his pants, and pulled back quickly so that he wouldn’t hit the cut with the scissors as Tommy moved.
Ranboo pushed Tommy’s leg back down, and then helped him sit properly, allowing their other friend better access.
Ranboo offered Tommy a cup of water, and several pills that he immediately took.
The enderman hybrid walked to the sink, filling up a bowl with some water and then grabbed a towel from the kit on the table, “Let me see the back of your head.”
Tommy tilted his head forward, his hand tightening around the edge of the counter as Tubbo worked around his leg.
He had forgotten how much he hated this.
Not that he would ever give up helping people because of the injuries that came with it. It was just… Ranboo and Tubbo patching him up felt too similar to Foolish relocating his shoulder after Purpled had gotten too mad one day, too much like Sam cleaning a cut left by Quackity’s rings.
He bit his tongue.
Ranboo slowly worked dry blood out of his hair.
His nails dug into his palm. He loosened his grip automatically, mentally making a note to cut them later.
Tubbo put more pressure on his leg.
He started counting seconds.
Tubbo moved. The light was too bright.
He definitely had a concussion.
Tommy focused on his breathing, pushing away all other thoughts. His, Ranboo’s, and Tubbo’s.
After a few minutes of cleaning the back of his head using water, Ranboo moved away, first to grab more things from the kit (which, should be mentioned, was an extensive kit that covered much more than just first aid. They had stolen suture kits from the hospital after Tommy had come home one day and they needed Niki to give him stitches. They had so many bottles of medicine it probably rivaled that of Niki’s kit, it was bad, meaning, very good,) and then to put on one of the records Tommy had found discarded in an alleyway several months back.
That was probably more for Tubbo than either of them, considering the oldest looked about five seconds away from ripping his hair out. That should probably have worried Tommy more than it did, but Tubbo was good at first aid, he rationalized, so no need.
He realized he should have worried several minutes later, when Tubbo pulled multiple blood-coated cloths away from his leg to rinse it.
He, at one point, had to stop himself from punching his friend. It didn’t help that, at the same time, Ranboo decided it would be good to use antiseptic on the cut on his head.
The man said it wasn’t too bad and that it would probably be alright if they didn’t bandage it, but that considering the cut was caused by a city alleyway, he wanted to clean it better. Which was sound reasoning, but Tommy forced himself into counting seconds and deep breathing to avoid thinking about the pain, nonetheless.
----
Tommy was familiar with concussion protocol.
That doesn’t mean he hated it any less.
Especially considering he was the one being monitored.
He was lying on the couch, the room darkened and Tubbo silently sitting on an armchair they had found on the side of the road, working on something from his apprenticeship.
Tommy wanted to fly. He wanted to throw himself off of the highest ledge in the city and soar. He craved the feeling of wind encasing him. He craved the absolute rush it was.
His mind floated as he lay there, and the phantom feeling of it rushed over him, similar to that of waves after you’ve spent time on the water.
He had called in sick to the bakery today, telling Niki that he had a concussion because he had slipped in a puddle.
He had wanted to smack Tubbo for coming up for such a shit reason, but it was either that, or saying that he had gotten hit in the head by a frying pan by Ranboo after scaring him during the middle of the night.
He decided that the first was better.
Tubbo was going to cover his shift today, and likely the next day as well, which meant a double shift, and also meant that Tommy was going to insist that he was perfectly capable of working a 6-hour shift two days after getting a concussion.
He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t want to make Tubbo work nearly half the day just to cover his ass.
Several hours of lying in silence later, Tubbo spoke, “What happened, Big T?”
“What d’you mean?”
Tubbo gestured to him vaguely, “What happened? Do you remember?”
Tommy frowned, “I don’t- I made someone really mad. I don’t remember what I had done, but I don’t think it warranted… this,” He paused, trying to remember, (a fluttering of red, shadows darkening the alleyway), “I think- I think I knew them?”
Neither spoke for a little bit.
“It was Notos, I think,” Tubbo said, finally, “I’m not sure, because I’ve not heard his voice before, but- but you were asking him why he and the rest of them had gone with names meant for a group of four, when they were three. He avoided the question, and you kept talking for a bit. Then you called him selfish, I can’t remember why off the top of my head, but I don’t think he liked that.”
Tommy snorted, “Yeah, that definitely didn’t warrant this.”
Tubbo shrugged, and then stood and walked to the back of the apartment.
Tommy continued lying on the couch, deciding that he would have a nap.
The popcorn ceiling in the low lighting looked kind of like stars, constellations. He fell asleep thinking of the infinite expanse of everything that exists.
----
Tommy threw an arm over his eyes, whining at the fact that he couldn’t sleep.
He kicked his blanket off of him, and jumped off of the bed. He reached back for a stuffed cow.
He tip-toed across his room, opening the door slightly to see a light on.
He opened the door the rest of the way, slowly walking towards the room with the light on.
A familiar brown-haired boy sat at a desk, writing something. He turned as Tommy stepped on a creaky floorboard, “What are you doing awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Did you try closing your eyes?”
Tommy huffed, crossing his arms and accidentally crushing the stuffed cow.
“Alright, alright, I’m joking,” The older boy said, holding his hands up in surrender, and then held them out towards Tommy, “Come ‘ere.”
Tommy walked over quickly, hopping onto the chair, and dropping his cow onto the desk, “What are you doing?”
“Some homework.”
“Boring,” He scrunched his nose.
The boy ruffled his hair, “It’s not, actually. It’s kind of fun.”
“Boooring. You’re boring.”
The older boy only laughed, “If you say so.”
Tommy leaned his head against the chest of the boy who he was safe with, “I wanna sleep.”
“Yeah, it’s late, isn’t it?” He pat Tommy’s back a few times, “Come on, let’s go outside for a bit. The fresh air will help.”
Tommy hopped off the chair, following the older boy downstairs and outside. He sat down beside him on the cold grass.
“You see the Big Dipper?”
Tommy nodded.
“Alright, so follow my hand. That really bright star there is Arcturus. And then,” He lowered his hand further, curving to follow the path to a different star, “That’s Spica. Once you find Spica, you follow it straight to the corner of Corvus. You see it? It’s a rectangle, kind of.”
Tommy shook his head, “Why are stars shapes?”
He laughed, “They’re not really. We just saw patterns in the positioning of them and decided to make them into shapes and give them names. Sometimes, there’re even stories to go along with it. You want me to tell you the story of Corvus?”
Tommy nodded, “But I want to see it first.”
The boy nodded, grabbing the younger’s hand, “Alright, so we start at the Big Dipper, at the end of the ladle, right? And then, we follow it down to that really bright star called Arcturus. Do you see it?”
Tommy nodded, and then pointed to a different star, “And from there, it’s Spita?”
“Spica,” He corrected, and then pushed the boy’s hand to the correct star, “And just a little bit over. And then from there, you go to the very corner star of Corvus.”
“Right there?” Tommy asked, pointing.
“Yeah. That star’s called Beta. Fun fact, Toms, all the stars in Corvus are named after letters of the Greek alphabet.”
“Greek alphabet?”
“Well, yeah. They spoke a different language. And it was ancient times, so they had a different alphabet.” The boy said as the stars started spinning.
“Woah. Cool. Storytime?”
“Sure. So, Corvus is the scientific term for ravens and crows and those such birds, right?”
“The black birds?”
“Yeah, those ones. So, as the story goes, they weren’t always black. In fact, they were perfectly white. And Apollo, you remember him, the Greek god of the sun, he had this lover, her name was Coronis. She was a princess. So, she was Apollo’s lover, but since he’s a god and has all these godly things to do, he couldn’t stay with her. Instead, he got the crow to watch over her. But, over time, Coronis fell out of love with Apollo and instead in love with a human man named Ischys-”
“Why would you stop loving a god?” Tommy asked, and then, “Bless you.”
“I don’t know, kid. Love is weird. It’s not something that you can help. Anyways, when the crow went to Apollo and told him this, Apollo got mad. Like, really mad.” The brown-haired boy’s skin started changing, growing, glowing.
“Why was he mad?”
“Well, because he had told the crow to watch Coronis and she fell in love with someone else while the crow was watching her.”
Tommy frowned, “But if you can’t help who you love, why was Apollo so mad?”
The boy, who seemed more like a picture Tommy had drawn from his nightmares at this point, shrugged, “Sometimes people do dumb things, kid. They blame people for things that aren’t their fault and they forget that not everything can be helped. But this is also a god, who is used to getting things his own way. He’s very entitled, Tommy, he thinks he deserves everything. So, Apollo, all mad and stuff, curses the crow and burns its feathers, making them pitch black instead of white.”
Tommy frowned again, “But the crows are beautiful.”
The monster just shrugged, “Anyways, that’s why crows are black. At least, that’s how the story goes.”
“That’s not a very good story. Tell me a happy one.”
He froze, “Okay. Once upon a time-”
“No. A happy one. Make it happy.”
Heat crawled up Tommy’s arms and he turned to see a burning field.
He turned back to the monster, “Why isn’t it happy?”
The monster tilted it’s head, “ You made it this way. Make it happy.”
“No, I-”
The monster reached towards Tommy, “Make it happy. Put it together.”
Tommy turned and ran, tripping over raised patches of dirt.
He looked over his shoulder at the monster and then fell.
The monster jumped after him, claws reaching, tearing through the air and ripping through space.
Tommy screamed.
----
Tommy woke up confused. He took deep breaths, a hand reaching to push his hair off his forehead.
He winced at the pain that shot across the back of his head when he pushed his head deeper into the pillow.
He was already starting to forget what had happened during the dream, but the image of a monster ripping through space-time stayed imprinted in the lids of his eyes when he closed them again.
No more sleep, then.
He looked to his side, where Tubbo should be lying. He wasn’t there. Instead, there was a sleeping man who, if there was any less light, would look like the fucking slenderman.
Tommy sighed, staring at the ceiling and blinking at the slight burning that crawled across the corners of his eyes, yelling for more sleep.
He rubbed his eyes, sighing at the worsened pain.
It had been at least 5 hours since he had fallen asleep, considering Tubbo and Ranboo had switched (meaning that Ranboo had gotten back from work, and Tubbo was currently working Tommy’s shift) plus however long it had been since Ranboo had actually been home for. Tommy pushed himself up on his elbows, craning to see the clock behind his friend.
He let out a relieved breath at seeing 2:25 illuminated in green lighting, reaching for the bottle of pills on the table in front of him.
He loved helping people truly, but he always forgot how shit being sidelined because of injuries was.
He always forgot how shit injuries were in general.
----
He went back to working a week later, wearing sunglasses, head aching and with a slight limp.
He wasn’t going back to vigilantism ( “That’s such a stupid word,” Tommy said, throwing a pillow at Tubbo, “Like, so stupid.” ), not yet, that would be stupid. He still had a concussion and his leg would probably give out on him, it would be self-destructive. And even he was not that dumb (though, that implies that he was dumb at all, which he assures you, he was not).
Niki had told him to take longer off, that he shouldn’t be working with a concussion, but he told her that she had already been working short-handed without his absence, and that he would take a break if it got too much.
He did take breaks. However, they weren’t of his own accord. They were mandated by Niki and definitely not him getting overwhelmed because he was Tommy Innit and he did not need breaks, no he did not.
“Do you have, uh, some Tylenol, Niki? Advil, or whatever.”
Niki simply glanced at him and then raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything!” She defended, scoffing as she bent to grab her first aid kit.
“You didn’t need to,” Which was true, the ‘I told you so’ had floated from her brain and hung in the air like a fluorescent light, only serving to worsen his headache.
She handed him a bottle, “Just take a breather, Tommy. It’s okay to need breaks. You still have a concussion.”
“Yeah, alright,” He shrugged, looking at the ground, “Thanks, Niki.”
She tilted her head, “I know you hate accepting help, Tommy, but-”
“It’s alright, Niki. I’ll be fine.”
She shook her head as she left, biting her tongue to stop from saying anything else.
She hadn’t needed to, anyways, Tommy had still heard, still felt the disbelief. She wasn’t able to understand Tommy’s reluctance to allow people to see any vulnerability, and Tommy had accepted that as part of keeping his secrets a long time ago.
He sighed, dry swallowing the pills he had poured into his hand.
Niki was too good to him. She didn’t ask many questions, she always offered help and she was always looking out for him.
He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she ever got hurt because of things he had done.
She was too nice for the things he was knee-deep in, and he knew that for her, it wasn’t a facade. Her niceness wasn’t an act, like it was in so many other people he had known.
Fuck’s sake, he had a concussion because he called someone selfish, someone who had been nice to him maybe a week prior to that.
He supposes it was partially his fault. He got too comfortable, too fast, and that probably would’ve killed him, had Tubbo not been listening in.
Niceness was a mask worn too often by those with malicious intent.
A lesson relearned.
Chapter 4: There Before The Threshold
Summary:
He would be lying if he said that the way Boreas was able to maneuver himself didn’t leave him awed. In fact, Tommy adored watching Boreas fly, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. Could you blame him? Boreas was the only other avian he knew of, and to see him fly was something of Tommy’s dreams.
It felt like a dream, most of the time. So, of course, this wasn’t any different.
Tommy lied back on the roof, his hands interlocked behind his head.
Notes:
i keep switching between calling Niki's place a bakery and a cafe because I can't decide on just one.
also there's a fly that just won't leave me alone and keeps landing on my laptop and it's so annoying
TW// Blood, mentions of violence, threat of gun violence, attempted robbery, mention of arson and murder
Chapter Text
The day that he lost half of everything that made it all worth it started out like any other.
He had woken up at half-past six and went to make coffee.
His youngest child joined him nearly a half-hour later, and Phil poured him a bowl of cereal.
His wife joined them about a half-hour after that, laughing as her son jumped at her, excited to do something .
The twins joined about an hour and a half later, Wilbur laughing and running away from Techno, who was vehement in his chase.
Wilbur tripped suddenly, getting a face full of couch cushion.
“Hey!” He had yelled, standing and pointing at his twin, “Cheater!”
“Nah, I didn’t do anything!”
“You-you used your,” He gestured vaguely to a shadow creature curled around his brother’s legs, pink eyes boring into his, “Thing.”
“They’re shadows, Wilbur. Not things. They don’t like being called things.”
Wilbur groaned, “You still cheated. Powers aren’t allowed!” He had turned to Phil, “Dad, tell him!”
“Well, I don’t know the rules of whatever game you’re playing,” He shrugged, hiding a smile as he took a sip of luke-warm coffee.
“Hah,” Techno said, and then, “They don’t listen to me. Can’t be cheating if I can’t control them.”
“You’re right, Techno. Though, maybe we should be practicing more with your power. You should be able to control them,” Kristin said, drawing her hands through Tommy’s hair as he lay against her, having fallen asleep again.
Techno paled, “No. I think it’s fine. They can just… exist, y’know?”
Kristin smiled.
Wilbur yelped as the pink-eyed shadow curled around his feet. He glanced up at his twin, mouthing, “I hate you.”
Techno simply nodded, walking towards the kitchen.
They had left the house about an hour after that, going to the library to pick new books.
Tommy was meant to come. Had it been any other visit to the library, Tommy would’ve come. But Tommy had gotten some new books for his birthday, so he didn’t need more.
They were gone maybe 45 minutes, but in that timeframe, his wife was killed and his youngest son stolen.
He hadn’t realized immediately, instead laughing at something Techno had said, but as they were depositing the books in their rooms, he turned the corner to blood.
His heart had dropped.
His heart had dropped at the sight of his wife lying in a pool of her own blood, and then it had jumped to his throat when he couldn’t see his youngest son.
“Tommy!” He had called, running around the first floor, “Tommy, where are you?”
He heard feet coming down the stairs, and hope curled into a small ball right next to his heart.
“Dad?” His son asked, his son that was not Tommy, but rather an older boy with curly brown hair and black-tinged ears.
“Is Toms up there?”
“No, what-” He took another step down.
“Don’t! Wil, you stay there.”
“Dad?” He had frowned.
Phil hadn’t known what to do. He took a breath, “Go upstairs and look for Tommy. Anywhere he might hide, alright? Under beds, in closets, in the- the panic room.”
Wilbur had frozen, a look similar to terror slowly growing on his face, “Dad?”
“You look for Tommy,” He swallowed, “And- and you and Tech stay up there, okay? Okay?”
Wilbur nodded, slowly making his way back up the stairs.
Phil pushed his hands through his hair, walking back into the living room where his wife lay on the floor, lifeless.
He paused in his steps before walking around her, bile crawling up his throat.
“Tommy?” He called softly, biting back tears that threatened to show his fear, “Tommy, it’s Dad. Please be here.”
He walked around the entire floor, checking and rechecking every single place his youngest son could fit into, but he didn’t show up.
He walked back to where his wife lay motionless slowly, looking over the scene properly this time. Henry, Tommy’s stuffed cow, lay discarded next to her, just a few centimetres away from the pool of blood extending from her head. It looked as though she had been stabbed, though he couldn’t properly tell, and couldn’t bring himself to look closer. Blood in the shape of small hands was smeared onto her cheeks and shoulders and sides.
He had seen her dead, Phil realized, and the bile along his throat was suddenly much more noticeable, Tommy had seen her dead and had tried to wake her up.
He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him as he kneeled next to his wife, begging for some god to be forgiving, to allow him another second with her, as he begged for his son to be returned to him.
He did, however, hear the choked sob that came a few seconds later, however, and turned to see Wilbur staring in horror, Techno in disbelief.
Maybe it was a different emotion. He couldn’t quite tell through the tears in his eyes.
He turned back to his wife, his hand shaking as he moved to close her eyes. He kissed her forehead, whispering to her how much he loved her, and then turned to his sons, standing and pulling them away from their dead mother.
Nothing he had ever done had prepared him for this.
----
It happened while Tommy was walking home from Niki’s bakery.
It was half-past two in the morning, stars not visible through the smog that covered the city in thick layers, not visible through the lights that stayed on for all 24 hours of each day. Despite the light pollution, the lighting from the streetlamps surrounding the area his apartment building was in was hardly enough to properly count as streetlights, shadows crawling and curling into every nook and cranny.
He had foregone the sunglasses, there hardly being enough light to justify them. His head didn’t hurt as much anymore, 2 weeks having healed it slightly, but dull pain still extended from the back of his head, just enough to distract him from his surroundings.
He paused in his steps as he went to walk by the alley with the loose fire escape, half of him screaming danger, that staying outside in the middle of the night (nearing witching hour, especially) was stupid, the other half begging to see the stars, to try to at the least.
He caved, leaning against the building just long enough to shoot a text to his friends, saying that he would be out later than expected.
He got one back a couple of seconds later, asking if he was patrolling.
No, he said, and then as a second thought, You won’t believe that. I’m on loose fire escape roof. I’ll be safe.
He slid his phone back into his pocket, walking further into the alley.
He winced at the pain in his head as he jumped for the ladder, but ignored it for want of the stars.
He didn’t like this fire escape, it being old and swaying with his weight, but it was easy to get the ladder down, and it served its purpose. That being said, he still pulled himself onto the roof as quickly as he could.
He stifled a groan as he hit his still-injured thigh against the side of the building, sitting onto the cold concrete and rubbing the area.
It was several minutes later, lying down and staring at the dark expanse that showed him nothing of where his ancestors had fallen from when he saw Boreas.
It was him, Tommy knew, because his wings shimmered in the night, as if the heavens both wanted him to be seen and yet also blend in with the night sky.
He would be lying if he said that the way Boreas was able to maneuver himself didn’t leave him awed. In fact, Tommy adored watching Boreas fly, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. Could you blame him? Boreas was the only other avian he knew of, and to see him fly was something of Tommy’s dreams.
It felt like a dream, most of the time. So, of course, this wasn’t any different.
Tommy lied back on the roof, his hands interlocked behind his head.
Boreas was only a silhouette, though, which made watching the man fly rather tough. Tommy lost of him sight after a few seconds.
He sighed, closing his eyes and listening for any sound that might alert him to someone being around him, but there was nothing other than the wind and humming of electricity in the streetlights.
It was quiet, and that bothered him.
No one wanted to go up against Boreas, the man being rumoured to hold death in the palm of his hands, so it made sense that it was quiet when he was out, but it was still rather stupid, Tommy thought, that a villain patrolling diminished crime and loitering more than the heroes did (or police, for that matter).
It was completely contradictory, and the peace he found in the shared avian gene was replaced by contempt.
Not for Boreas, he didn’t think (maybe it was, just a little), but for the heroes and police who never patrolled this area, who left them to their own devices, to be harmed by anyone who wished it, despite there being so many police stations scattered throughout the area.
Tommy had a bone to pick with that, considering the heroes and government would always go on about how it made sense because ‘officers should be allocated in areas with high crime rates.’ It was all bullshit. None of them could give a single shit about them.
But Boreas could.
And while he didn’t patrol often, he still did, and that was more than the heroes could say.
He pushed himself upwards at the sound of flapping behind him, turning to see the man himself.
“Might I ask why you’re lying on a roof at three in the morning?”
Tommy relaxed his stance, feet still positioned well enough to run if he had to, “S’nice, isn’t it?”
“Not really, no.”
Tommy tilted his head, his hand coming up to gesture haphazardly above them, “The sky, I mean. Not the roof. Or this building. The fire escape’s shitty.”
“You were stargazing?” Boreas asked, a hand fixing the positioning of the mask on his face, his tone saying disbelief.
“Attempting to,” Tommy said, legs burning to walk closer to the older avian, wings aching in his back.
Boreas hummed, “Why at nearly 3?”
“Not many people out during the witching hour, is there?” He shrugged, “Was walking home from work, decided to stop for a bit.”
Boreas shook his wings, and Tommy’s gaze fell on them longingly.
He ached for someone else to understand his need to fly, to fall.
Stop it, he scolded himself, eyes moving back to the face of the green-clad man, You don't need a flock.
Boreas tilted his head at Tommy once again, and Tommy could feel curiosity coming off of him in thick waves, as well as something else hidden within the layers, something warm.
“Well,” The man said, folding his hands, “Perhaps it’s about time for you to get home then, mate.”
It wasn't a suggestion.
“Yeah. Perhaps.”
Boreas smiled at him, and Tommy held back a shiver at the feeling that came along with it, something akin to satisfaction.
Tommy swallowed, nodding at the villain before walking backwards, to the edge of the roof.
He pushed himself onto the ledge, jumping off and onto the fire escape. He winced at the pain in his thigh and the resounding clang as he landed, walking around the platform to the stairs down with lighter steps.
He kept an eye on the roof, not very surprised to see Boreas standing, watching.
He couldn’t hear what the man was saying, but he could feel the returned curiosity, and see his lips moving in the dim lighting.
Tommy turned away from him, mentally constructing a wall between him and the sickening curiosity of a villain.
He curled his shoulders inwards as he continued down the fire escape of the several-stories-too-many tall building, attempting to make himself as small as he could. The smaller he was, the harder it would be for Boreas to see him, to watch him.
He was suddenly very glad he had grabbed Ranboo’s black hoodie before his shift.
He paused at the suddenly amplified groaning of the escape, his head whipping towards the wall to make sure it was still anchored there. It was, but he could see the weight pulling on the anchorage, and continued his path down with more urgency.
He didn’t bother with the ladder once he got there, jumping to the ground the second his body had cleared the platform. He shivered at the rough landing, taking a few steps backwards to regain his balance.
He lowered the mental barrier he had constructed, turning his back to the building and closing his eyes to focus on the emotions flowing from the roof of the building as he slowly walked towards the street. He was met with the same wave of curiosity, less intense due to the distance, but still there.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he turned in the direction of Niki’s bakery. He would stay at an Inn that night (he wouldn’t pay, but he would also sleep on the floor), not wanting to risk Boreas watching him as he walked and figuring out where he lived.
----
Wilbur and Techno came into the cafe an hour or so after the lunch rush.
Tommy actually studied them this time around, realizing that if they were Niki’s friends, he should probably know at least something about them.
Techno was a piglin hybrid. That much was obvious simply by his ears (pointed and folding just ever so slightly at the tips), but also by the tusks that protruded from his mouth. His pink hair (just a couple shades lighter than Niki’s) was shoulder-length, the front strands pulled into a bun. Tommy would’ve thought it was natural, like many piglin hybrids, had he not seen brown littering the man’s roots, evidently not having been touched up for a while.
Wilbur was harder to tell, and Tommy wanted to think human until he saw pointed ears. He didn’t think the black colouring of the points was real at first, thinking that it was simply a trick of the light, but upon realizing it was the actual colour of the points, he needed a closer look. The black colouring could mean wither, wither skeleton or enderman. Tommy ruled out enderman without closer inspection, not seeing any telltale patches of purplish-black fur or scales on the man.
He got as close as he could without being suspicious, noting the black that stretched from the pitch-black points like roots, wrapping around his ears and the back of his skull, a few reaching towards his face, and stopping somewhere near the top of his cheekbones.
Wilbur wasn’t wearing a turtleneck like he had been when Tommy first met him, and Tommy noted that he lacked the discolouration in the shape of bones that wither skeleton hybrids had around their necks. That meant he was a wither hybrid, and the realization came with a sense of satisfaction, and then fear at not noticing the danger the man brought everywhere he went.
Tommy wiped down the counter, head lifting to smile at the person who entered as he heard the bell ring.
The smile fell as he saw a black ski mask, annoyance flooding his system.
The man pulled his hand out of his sweater pocket as he walked up to the counter, a gun visible and Tommy’s face screwed up. He really didn’t want to deal with this today.
Who robbed a fucking bakery?
His eyes darted around the building as the man placed his hands onto the marble he had just wiped down, counting three people (not including himself and the ski-mask guy) in the front, mentally tallying Niki in the back.
Jack was wiping down a table that had just been occupied by people, them having walked out a few seconds prior to the man entering the building.
Wilbur and Techno were still talking, not paying much attention to what was happening.
“Money in the register, please,” The man said, as though the gun he had wasn’t pointing at Tommy.
Tommy sighed, blinked and then pulled his hands together, “Do you have a bag for me to put it in?”
Vaguely, he saw Jack shaking his head slowly, telling him not to be his normal self and to cooperate for once.
The man in front of him gave off a wave of irritation, “Did I stutter?”
“Listen, man, I could give you the money, but it’d be really fucking annoying to carry. Do you have a bag for me to put it in?”
The man levelled his gun at Tommy, the motion dragging the attention of Techno.
“Money,” He said, accompanied by impatience, “Now.”
“Man, whatever,” Tommy opened the register, pulling out the stacks of cash, piling them on top of each other.
There was maybe 200 dollars in the register, accompanied by maybe 50 in coins. Not worth robbing a bakery.
He placed it on the counter, “Anything else I can get you? Coins?”
Irritation lined with anger burned against Tommy’s brain, and he almost sighed at the stabbing pain that it brought, “Yes, actually. I’ll take 3 raspberry scones.”
Tommy wanted to laugh. He had a gun still levelled at him and he wanted to laugh.
He turned, grabbing a pastry bag and then walked to open the display.
His gaze met Techno’s as he used tongs to place three in the bag, and Tommy used that second to try and figure out what he was planning.
Curiosity was the first emotion he felt, and upon prodding a bit deeper, irritation and anger.
Techno, who had been stabbed because he had stopped a mugging, was curious.
Tommy’s urge to laugh came back, and he stood up straight, placing the bag on the counter with more force than necessary and giving the man an obviously fake smile, “Anything else I can help you with?”
Tommy felt rather than heard Niki walk out from the storage room, and his eyes widened as the man moved the gun from Tommy to Niki.
Wilbur was out of his seat in less than a second, feet silent against the tile floor as he bridged the gap in 4 steps, a hand making contact with the back of the man’s neck, and the effect was instantaneous, black lines crawling along every inch of the man’s skin, pulsing wither effect.
He fell, gun slipping out of his grasp and into Wilbur’s outstretched hand.
“Let’s not threaten a lady, shall we?” And the gun was pointed at the man’s head for a fraction of a second before Wilbur remembered he was in public and there was someone watching him that that couldn’t be explained to. His hand fell to his side, and he almost scoffed as his finger brushed over the still-engaged safety.
Techno walked to his brother’s side, and Tommy raised an eyebrow at the pair before shaking his head and returning the money to the register.
“What the fuck?”
Tommy shrugged, not looking at Niki.
“Wilbur, what was that?” She asked, and Tommy nearly straightened at what felt like annoyance.
Out of everything to feel over an attempted robbery, why annoyance?
The man paused, “Good samaritan?”
“I don’t think good samaritans poison people,” Jack said, nudging the man on the floor with his foot. He jumped back as he twitched.
“Wither,” Wilbur corrected.
“Semantics.”
“Not really,” Tommy said, pushing the register closed, “Poison can’t kill you. Wither can. Also, the speed at which it, like, pulses is different. I’m mostly surprised at how quickly he fell. It’s laughable.”
Techno raised an eyebrow at him, “You read that in a book?”
“Sure.”
Techno’s lip quirked upwards.
“So, uh, we just gonna leave that guy lying on the floor?”
“Oh,” Wilbur looked down at the man, “Should probably, uh, call the police, shouldn’t we?”
Tommy shrugged, “Could just throw him out in the alley. Not really a point in going through the trouble of a police report, is there? ‘Sides, you’d have to justify your use of your wither effect.”
Niki stared at Tommy from behind him, and then met Techno’s gaze, shrugging at the unasked question.
“And the gun then, genius?” Jack asked.
“Fuck if I know. I don’t deal with guns, Jack Man-i-fold.”
The man scoffed, rolling his eyes. He took a step backwards, waving a hand over the man lying on the ground, no longer unconscious but not quite lucid, “Deal with him. I’m out.”
Tommy watched as Jack walked out of the cafe, flipping the sign to ‘closed’ as he went.
His gaze turned to Wilbur, “Should you really still be holding that gun?”
“The safety’s on.”
“That’s… not at all what I asked.”
“Yeah, well,” He shrugged, “What else do you want me to do with it? Would you like to have a gun sitting on the counter?”
“I don’t know! I told you, of everything illegal I’ve done, I’ve never dealt with guns. Well,” he tilted his head to the side slightly, “I’ve dealt with guns, I’ve just never like, held one. Or dealt with disposing of them.”
“There are so many concerning things in what you just said,” Niki placed a hand on his shoulder, “Should I get you therapy?”
“Probably. But no.”
Techno snorted, and then squatted down, reaching to pull the ski mask off of the guy.
Tommy rolled his shoulder, pushing Niki’s hand off as he picked up the bag of raspberry scones that still sat on the counter. He walked over to the display, dumping the scones into the basket and then throwing out the bag.
“Hey, Niki,” Techno said, glancing up at his friend, only to see her exasperated over something Wilbur had said that he missed.
“All I’m saying is, it wouldn't be hard to-” Wilbur glanced over at Tommy, who had leaned against the counter, back to him, evidently not paying much attention to what was happening. He pulled him thumb across his throat silently, “Wouldn’t be hard.”
“Niki,” Techno repeated, ignoring his brother for the moment.
She looked down at the man, raising an eyebrow in question.
He nodded towards the robber’s face.
She tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion until she recognized him, eyes widening in annoyance, “You’re kidding me. I thought I’d left them behind me.”
Wilbur’s head tilted in confusion, and he stepped over the man and around his brother, “Pft. He’s not even a good one.”
“Wilbur.”
“What? What I’d say?”
Niki just looked over at Tommy.
“Hey, child.”
Tommy paused in scrolling through his phone, knowing he was being spoken to, but not wanting to respond to the title.
“Tommy.”
He turned, “Yes, Wilbur?”
“Do you care?”
“Whatever about?”
“When I speak, do you care?”
“No. You’re annoying.”
Wilbur sighed.
Techno nodded his agreement, pushing himself up and wiping his hands on his pants.
“Hey, Tommy?” Niki asked, “Could you get my phone from my apartment, please?”
She was trying to get rid of him. Tommy knew that, but nodded anyways, making his way to the stairs.
He had half a mind to eavsdrop, to leave his mind open to listen to theirs, but stopped himself, realizing that whatever it was, he probably shouldn’t involve himself.
“We’ll handle him,” Techno said, after listening to make sure Tommy had walked up the stairs, “They won’t be an issue soon enough.”
Niki sighed, dragging her hands across her face, “I really thought I’d left them behind me.”
“Yeah, well,” Wilbur shrugged, “They should’ve known well enough to leave you alone the first time. We don’t make the same mistakes twice.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just… Let me help this time.”
Wilbur raised a hand in protest, and-
“Go bring the car ‘round back, Wil?”
“Tech-”
The pink-haired twin shot him a look.
Wilbur turned on his heel, walking out of the bakery.
“... You want to burn it down?”
“I’ve always wanted to,” Niki said, hesitating slightly, “Since I got out, I keep just… imagining hurting them because they hurt me and they deserve to know the same pain.”
“They do,” Techno agreed, “If you really want to come, I can arrange it.”
“I do. Thank you, Techno.”
The man shrugged, “I’m a big believer in retribution. And ‘sides, they hurt you . It only makes sense for it to be you that hurts them back, Nemesis.”
Niki smiled.
Techno’s shadows purred their agreeance for bloodshed.
Tommy came bounding down the stairs, phone in hand and wonderfully oblivious to the fire that would burn with all the rage of a wronged woman not 5 hours after, claiming the lives of those that had harmed her.
Chapter 5: You Were There To See My Courage Fail
Summary:
Zephyrus chuckled, “Say, have you heard about the recent exploits of The Syndicate?”
The lab fire played in his mind, his throat still raw from that smoke choking him as he grabbed three files and left the scientists for dead, “Can’t say I have.”
Notes:
school starts in two weeks and i still haven't gotten my schedule so that's fun. i did get an invitation to grade nine orientation, though, which makes no sense cause I'm not in grade nine.
also i keep spelling las nEvadas as las nAvadas and it's not good
TW// mentioned/referenced human experimentation, mentioned human trafficking, Tommy has a mental breakdown, themes of dehumanization
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The first time Tommy had completely broken down, he was twelve and had finally realized the full extent of what Las Nevadas (Quackity and Purpled, especially), had done to him. He remembered them all, he remembered the ones who had taken pity on a trembling six-year-old, a starving seven-year-old, but those two had been determined on harming and taking everything that they could from a child without killing him.
Tubbo had been there, so had Ranboo.
They were the only two that had always stood by his side, and he would always repay that loyalty with the same amount of his own.
He would die for them and he would kill for them, and they would do the same.
----
It was Wilbur randomly handing him a teddy bear that set it up.
(“Thought of you when I saw it,” Wilbur had said, shrugging, “Besides, you’re never too old to have a plushie.”
Tommy had stared at the thing, an odd feeling crawling up his spine, “... Right.”
The man had just tilted his head at the teen before him, his mouth forming a discontent line, “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it.”
Tommy had snatched the thing, now named Clementine, out of Wilbur’s hands the second he had processed the sentence, “I want it.”
“Great.”)
It was Niki handing him a bag of pastries after a shift because he hadn’t eaten anything since 8 that morning that furthered it.
(“You’re still growing, Tommy, you need to eat more than you do.” She had said, flour still coating her hands and a smile accompanied by the warmest emotion Tommy was able to feel in other people, though he was unable to put a name to it.
“Niki, I really can’t-”
“Tommy,” She had interrupted, her tone leaving no room for him to argue, “Take it. Give some to Ranboo or Tubbo if you feel that bad about it, but you have to eat something.”
He had kicked a pebble, watching as it spun off, ricocheting off the counter and into a booth. He sighed, “Fine. Fine, Niki, thank you.”)
But the person that really set it off? That was Zephyrus.
“You haven’t been around very much, Theseus.”
Tommy had turned, surprised at the appearance of someone behind him. It made no sense that the man had been able to sneak up on him, considering Tommy had been feeling around for someone, poking at the brains of anyone who walked by. So, smartly, he said, “Uh.”
Zephyrus paused, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I startle you?”
Tommy narrowed his eyes, “Just a little.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Injured. Hazards of the job.”
“Oh, right,” Zephyrus said, a gloved hand wiping the bottom of his face, and then pointing at Tommy as though he had had a realization, “Notos hurt you, didn’t he? I must say, I wasn’t very pleased with him upon watching the footage, but…” He shrugged, “He’s impulsive, and your fear was almost delectable.”
“I don’t get scared.”
“Oh, don’t be so defensive. It’s only natural upon being injured to be scared. It’s only natural to be scared.”
“What do you want?”
Zephyrus gasped, a hand on his chest as though he was shocked, “Me? Wanting something?”
“Drop the dramatics. There’s a reason you’re here.”
“There is,” Zephyrus nodded his agreement, “But I live for the dramatics, so those aren’t going anywhere.”
Tommy sighed.
Zephyrus chuckled, “Say, have you heard about the recent exploits of The Syndicate?”
The lab fire played in his mind, his throat still raw from that smoke choking him as he grabbed three files and left the scientists for dead, “Can’t say I have.”
Zephyrus laughed once again, “Cut the bullshit. It was all over the news, The Syndicate Burns Down a Lab, Leaves No Survivors, or, my personal favourite, The Syndicate Targets Genetics Lab, Innocents and Information Lost to an Inferno. As though the lab was anything other than a cover-up, but you know that don’t you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“You were there. I saw you go in. I followed, but you didn’t try to save anyone. In fact, you made sure no one left, it surprised me. And you grabbed a couple of files, which is intriguing. What could the lab have had that you wanted so desperately you went into a burning building?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Hm. At least you’re not denying that you were there.”
“Why deny what you already know?”
Tommy felt the satisfied smile that crawled across the man’s face, “And if I told you I didn’t truly know that? I saw you enter the building when I re-watched the video, but you just confirmed you left 30 people for dead, helped kill them, even.”
Tommy clenched his teeth, “And so what?”
“Vigilantes are supposed to help people. They’re, like, Hero-Lite’s. You didn’t help them. Why?”
“Again, none of your business.”
Zephyrus sighed, “But I’m just so curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“But satisfaction brought it back. Why?”
“You said it yourself. The lab was a cover-up. It was genetics, sure, but it was human experimentation. Human trafficking. I help people who need it. I help those that can’t help themselves. I couldn’t give a shit about those that cause harm. If they’re dead, so what?”
“And how would you know about that?”
Tommy groaned, “None of-”
“My business, I understand,” Zephyrus paused, “You were there, weren’t you? But you got out. That’s the reason you do this, isn’t it? So that others aren’t as helpless as you were?”
“You’re out of line,” Tommy snapped, stepping forward.
“But I’m right, aren’t I? Those files you grabbed, they’re yours.” Zephyrus’ tone was light, as though what he was saying was simply facts and not the truth of what brought Theseus to life.
They were silent for a few seconds, Tommy warring with himself and Zephyrus simply watching, content at the disarray he had caused.
“... And if I said yes?”
“Then I would feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“Never said it was pity.”
“Sure feels like it.”
“... You’re an empath?” Zephyrus gave off a wave of disbelief, his voice wavering as he spoke. He cleared his throat, “How old are you?”
Tommy was silent.
“No, that’s alright, I wouldn’t answer, either,” He paused, and then his resolve strengthened, “Though, what’s curious is them experimenting on an empath. Why would they do that?”
“Why would they experiment on anyone?” Tommy challenged, defensive, “Because they can.”
“Yes, and I suppose that answer would satisfy anyone else. But they , the ones in charge of that lab, Las Nevadas, would not care simply for an empath. It’s because of your wings, isn’t it?”
“I did not-” Tommy stopped himself, taking a breath before continuing, “Sure. Avian hybrids are hard to come by, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Which means that you either don’t have a flock or are the key to what is likely the rest of the avian population of this city.”
“The only other avian I have the knowledge of is your friend.”
“No, I don’t believe that.”
Tommy laughed despite himself. The lie had tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was one he was willing to keep up, “Don’t want to, you mean? Even if I knew of any others, I wouldn’t tell you. I protect my own.”
“And so do I, which is why I’ll ask, do you know of any others?”
Tommy took a step back, “Desperation,” He spoke, the emotion wafting over him, “Guilt, anger. Grief.”
“Don’t you-” Zephyrus cut himself off, teeth gritted, “Please.”
“You’re looking for someone close to you, aren’t you?” Tommy asked, almost giddy at the focus being shifted off of him, “Someone you love? Someone you lost? Well, that happens. People leave.”
“Or get stolen.”
“Is that what happened to them? A young avian hybrid, perchance? Vulnerable, helpless to stop someone? A sibling, maybe, or a child.”
“Why don’t you-”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m just thinking aloud,” And definitely not to the boy listening through Tommy’s earpiece. He took a breath, the memory of other people’s wings protecting him from the particularly harsh experiments prodding at the words on his tongue, calling him a liar, “Genuinely, though, I don’t know of any others. And if I did, I would protect them to my last breath.”
“... Thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for,” And he didn’t. Because the person he was looking for might be stuck in the same place Tommy had run from, and Tommy hadn’t been able to get them out.
“Still.”
“We’re even. You know something about me, I know something about you.”
“Yes. And we can agree neither will get out?”
Tommy tilted his head, “So long as nothing happens to me, your secret is safe. If what you know gets out, then,” He shrugged, nonchalant, “Las Nevadas knows I’m still around. That could be remedied simply by me leaving.”
“You’d be hunted.”
“ Theseus would be hunted, you mean.”
“Is there a difference?”
“You don’t know who I am. Without a name or a face, if I stop parading around as Theseus, then I’m safe.”
Zephyrus nodded, stepping backwards.
Tommy turned his head slowly, keeping an eye on the man. They both stood there for a minute before he spoke again.
“You hate Las Nevadas.”
Tommy’s head snapped back to the man, stretching out in an attempt to determine where he was going with the sentence.
The emotion was something heavy, pushing down on Tommy and threatening to crush him under the weight.
“You hate Las Nevadas. And you want to see them gone.”
Tommy opened his mouth and then paused, “Yes.”
“Theseus,” Tubbo warned, “Be careful.” Because neither had any clue what he wanted, but it sounded like an invitation.
“You didn’t stop us from burning the lab. You stole your own documents. Why?”
“They took a lot of things from me. That file holds the key to it all.”
“You haven’t read it.”
“No.”
“You’re scared of what you’ll find.” It wasn’t a question, but Tommy nodded anyways.
“Where are you going with this?” Tommy’s legs itched for him to run, and he knew he shouldn’t be telling Zephyrus as much about him as he was, but he was intrigued.
“I need- I need help. Taking them down. The person I was looking for, he wasn’t in the lab, and my friends, The Syndicate, they won’t burn them down until we find him.”
“But you think the only way to find him is to burn them down.”
“Yes. Work my way backwards.”
Tommy frowned.
Tubbo took a deep breath.
“You want to bring them down completely.”
Zephyrus nodded, “Starting with the very top.”
Tommy froze, “And who, exactly, do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. Which is why I need your help.”
Tommy swallowed, taking a shaky breath.
“I don’t-”
“Is it worth chancing it?” Tubbo asked.
No. No, it wasn’t.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you. Not with taking them down.”
“But you want them to burn!”
“And I need to keep what I’ve created safe. You said you understood, that you protect your own as I do!”
“You said you didn’t have a flock.”
“But I have a family! I’ve made something for myself, and I can’t risk bringing myself, bringing them directly back into their fucking hands! I’m sorry.”
“You can’t even tell me their names?”
“You could make me,” Tommy reminded him.
“I find that’s not the best way to make allies, believe it or not.”
Tommy made eye contact with the villain, “Neither is me stopping your deal the last time we met.”
“That was easily remedied. I’m over it.”
“... I’ll keep an ear to the ground for other avians. Otherwise, I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” Zephyrus nodded, taking a step backwards, “Okay.”
Tommy didn’t sleep that night, the faces of people he had left behind when he escaped swirling around in his mind, them smiling at him as he tried to pry their restraints off, softly telling him to run as far as he could, that they’d be okay.
He sat down at Tubbo’s desk after lying on the mattress for an hour, pulling out a notebook and writing down everything he remembered from his time in the labs. Names, codes, maps, punishments for every single thing that he ever tried to do.
This was how he could help them.
He was 13 then, and not strong enough to bring them with him when he left.
He still isn’t strong enough to get them out himself.
But he could give them a chance by telling Zephyrus what he knew.
Tommy threw the files he had stolen onto the table, sorting them into three neat stacks for when Ranboo and Tubbo got home.
He sat down at one of the chairs, the only one that was balanced properly and didn’t keep leaning back onto one shorter-than-the-others leg.
Tubbo entered first, raising an eyebrow at him.
Tommy gestured for him to take a seat. He obliged.
“What is this?”
“Wait for Ranboo.”
“RANBOO!” Tubbo yelled, causing a loud thump and then Ranboo walking into the kitchen, rubbing his head.
Tommy frowned, “That’s… not what I meant.”
Tubbo shrugged.
Ranboo sat down at the other chair, pulling the closest stack of papers towards him.
He opened them, reading a few lines before switching to a different page, “These are-”
“The files Las Nevadas had on us. Figured it’s about time we face the past, innit?” He smiled nervously.
Tubbo frowned, pulling a stack towards him before looking at the first page and pushing it towards Tommy, “I’m not sure about this.”
“Neither am I,” Tommy said but pushed the file open regardless.
He frowned at the photo clipped onto the front page.
A six-year-old version of him smiled back.
It had obviously been ripped off of a bigger picture, the sides and top of the picture dipping into his body slightly before jutting back out.
There were two other people that were obviously meant to be in the picture. One of them was leaning against the chair he sat on, their arms draped over his shoulders from behind, their chest visible (they were wearing a red sweatshirt) and their chin slightly visible, the rest of their face having been ripped from it. Another person’s arm was pushing into a younger him’s side, yellow sweater covering their hand.
He was sitting at a table, a party hat pushed to the side of his forehead, and there was a birthday cake sitting in front of him, a number 6 candle burning.
Golden-blond hair glinted in the lighting of the picture, blue eyes gleaming with joy. He was missing two teeth from the top of his mouth, and his cheeks were too big for his face, baby fat clinging to every curve.
He frowned further.
And then, on the paper it was clipped onto:
DATE: April 24, 2010
NAME: Thomas Oliver Minecraft
DATE OF BIRTH: April 9, 2004.
PARENTAL TIES: Son of Philza Minecraft and (Unknown) Minecraft
- GIVEN WILLINGLY; No
NOTE; mother of Thomas was killed in the abduction. It watched. Handle with care. Two brothers. Ages unknown. Hybrid statuses unknown - not avians. Powers unknown.
HYBRID; avian
NOTE; father is avian hybrid, mother was wither hybrid
POWER; mental type - unknown
NOTE; father is mental type, mother was ruin type
EXPERIMENTATION; Yes
EUTHANIZATION; No
NOTE; Thomas will be referred to as A-3 from this point. Its wings have been clipped and will remain so until we are ready for flight tests.
Tommy looked up at Tubbo, who was biting a nail nervously, not even touching his own file.
“And?”
“... My middle name is fucking Oliver,” He laughed in disbelief, “Holy fucking shit. Fucking Oliver? That’s so pretentious.” His eyes blurred with tears.
His chest heaved, throat burning as he bit back a sob.
“Oh, Tommy.”
“They- they- I don’t-” He pushed his chair back, a hand covering his mouth to muffle a sob.
He stood, walking around the table.
“Tommy-”
“Give him a minute.”
Tommy hit his shoulder on the wall as he walked into the backroom, walking over to the window and pushing it open.
His body collapsed onto the stairs of the fire escape the second he stepped outside, and his body shook with sobs.
He was seventeen and he was an avian.
He had been six and they had grounded him.
His back cramped, and he struggled to pull off his sweater, it getting caught along his arms several too many times.
His wings, black and grey and shimmering in the low light, curled around him as though they were a shield the second he allowed them to be out. They curled around him as though they could serve to protect him instead of putting a target on his back.
He laughed at the irony, watery and disbelieving and shaky.
He had been six and they had murdered his mother in front of him.
They took his name from him.
They took his humanity from him.
They took everything he could’ve had from him, and there were others in the exact same position that he had been at that very moment.
He hadn’t deserved that.
Tommy’s sob echoed off the walls of his apartment building and the one next to it.
He took a shaky breath, fingers running over his arms as he started humming a song he hardly remembered, “I heard there was a special place, where men could go and… well this place is real, you needn’t fret, with… for freedom and for liberty, a victory for all under- the darkness came and then it went-” His voice broke.
Ranboo sat down on the stairs next to him.
Tommy forced his breathing to steady.
“It’s alright to be upset, Tommy. They hurt you. They hurt us all.”
“I don’t see you crying,” He snapped, sniffling.
Ranboo simply sighed, “I can hardly remember my time there. They played operation with my brain, remember? Fried it to hell and back. I hate them for it. And I know that if I read that file, I will cry, which is why I’m going to put it off until you and Tubbo aren’t home. You’re a lot stronger than I am, Tommy.”
“I doubt that,” His wings puffed slightly, and he pulled them back towards him as to not hit his friend.
“You were the one to get us out. You’re the one that goes out there whenever he can to help people. What… What you were put through, Tommy, however horrid, however unfair and inhumane, shaped you into a wonderful person.”
Tommy’s teeth clenched, “That’s stupid.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Fucking people pleaser.”
“Tommy, I don’t- I mean it.”
“Of course, you fucking do. But you can’t fucking remember what happened, you said it yourself!” Tommy stood, turning to face Ranboo while his wings puffed up behind him, “You can’t say that you- that you know what happened to me was awful, because you have no fucking clue what they put me through!”
“I know,” Ranboo looked resigned to his words, and that pissed Tommy off even more.
“They grounded me, Ranboo! You can’t ground an avian, we’re meant to- we’re meant to-” His voice broke again, and when he spoke, his voice had softened, “We- you can’t- you-”
Ranboo stood, and bridged the two-step gap between him and his friend, wrapping his arms around Tommy, “I’m so sorry.”
And Tommy broke.
His hands dug into the back of Ranboo’s sweater, gripping it as though it was his only lifeline.
He dug his face into his friend’s shoulder, sobs muffled by the contact but shaking his entire body, and then his legs gave out and Ranboo helped him onto the ground slowly, not loosening his hug once.
Tommy’s wings fluttered before wrapping around Ranboo as well, an inky cloth covering a moment that neither would speak of after it was over.
Tommy was hurt.
Tommy was hurt, but it couldn’t be healed by stitches or a bandaid or any antiseptic.
Tommy was hurt, and he had finally accepted that maybe he needed help in order to heal.
----
Tommy was working a shift with Tubbo when Techno ran into the cafe, his hood pulled tightly over his head and sunglasses pushed onto his face.
“Niki?” He had asked, and Tommy pointed to where she was serving a couple in the corner booth.
Techno sighed and sat on one of the stools in front of the counter.
“Can I get anything for you?” Tubbo asked, skipping over and smiling as though he hadn’t slept for only 3 hours the night before.
“No, I just- actually, could I get a water?”
“Sure thing.”
“So,” Tommy started, leaning on his elbows, “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Calling bullshit.”
“None of your business, man.”
“Alright,” Tommy held his hands up in surrender, “Alright. But if you’re injured again, I’m not helping.”
“That was one time.”
“Of the two times I’ve met you before this. Including this, that’s 33 percent, big man.”
Techno shot him a glare, and Tommy raised his hands in surrender again.
“That was a fluke. I wasn’t paying attention to the dude and it screwed me over.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow.
Niki placed a hand on Techno’s shoulder and the man tensed, his hand moving suddenly and-
Nothing. He relaxed, looking over his shoulder at his friend.
“What’s up?”
“Paparazzi.”
“Ooh, you’re famous? Pretty pog,” Tubbo said, placing a glass of water in front of Techno.
“No, I-”
“Oh my god, can I get your autograph, Techno?” Tommy batted his eyelashes, pulling a notepad and pen out of his apron and holding them out to the man.
“Tommy,” Niki scolded, though her voice shook as she held back laughter.
Techno buried his head in his hands. Voice muffled, he said, “I never asked for this.”
“... You kind of did,” Niki said, rubbing small circles onto Techno’s shoulder.
He groaned, “Don’t remind me. I hate this. I hate 18-year-old me. What was he thinking?”
“I have a video of you explaining why you thought it was a good idea.”
“I just wanted to go for a run, Niki,” He said, hands splaying out onto the counter as he looked up.
She lifted her hand from his shoulder, walking around the counter and grabbing two plates from underneath it, she hummed for him to continue.
“They’re like- like goddamn vultures. They were just waiting for me outside my apartment.”
Niki cringed as she deposited a slice of apple pie onto on plate, moving towards the cake section, “Are you gonna stay with your dad, then? Until you get a new place.”
He frowned, “I really liked this place, Niki. It had a park right outside it.”
Tommy snorted a laugh, bringing a hand to his mouth and faking a cough, “Sorry. That just really sounds like a rich person problem.”
Techno groaned, “They’re glorified stalkers, Tommy! It’s not like I want to keep moving every time one of them finds out where I live, but I rather enjoy not having panic attacks.”
“Yeah, those suck.”
“And it’s not actually me that’s rich. Not really. It’s my dad. I just happen to work close to the position that he does because I’m that one that’s gonna get the company when he retires and that means that they think that I know everything. Like, no, I don’t know who Wilbur was seen with, I didn’t even know that he was seeing someone!” He groaned again, resting his forehead against the counter.
“Her name’s Sally, if that makes you feel better,” Niki said, picking up the two plates.
He lifted his head to look at her, “That actually makes me feel worse, thanks. He tells you but not his twin, like that makes any fucking sense.”
Tommy chuckled, and then stopped suddenly, “Hold. Rewind. Twin?”
“Yeah? Is that a big deal?”
“I don’t- I- twin?”
“Uh. Please don’t be broken. Niki would be mad at me.”
“So, you- I- what? ”
“You sound so distressed. Is it truly that shocking?”
“Well- I- yeah.”
“I really don’t see how- whatever.”
“So,” Tubbo said, “What’s your surname, then? If your family is famous.”
Techno glanced at him, “Well, mine’s Blade because my parents never changed it when they got married, but Wil’s is Soot.”
“... As in Phil Soot?”
“Bingo.”
“Why’s that important, Big T?” Tommy asked, still reeling over the fact the Techno and Wilbur were twins.
“The Antarctic Empire, Phil Soot?”
Techno nodded.
“Wait, you mean-” Tommy’s face screwed up, “That’s weird. That’s really weird.”
“What is?”
“Our roommate works there.”
“Oh,” And Techno’s emotions were a whirlwind of confusion and intrigue before settling again, “What’s their name?”
“Ranboo.”
Techno looked at him, his face scrunched weirdly, “Say that again?”
“... Ranboo?”
“As in Ranboo Beloved?”
“I- yeah? You actually know him?”
“He’s Wil’s assistant.”
Tubbo choked on a laugh.
Tommy froze, “I’ve called my roommate’s boss annoying to his face ?”
Tubbo stopped laughing.
----
Tommy poured everything out of a rucksack that had been stuffed into the closet of the bedroom, leaving it all in a pile on the bed for someone else to deal with.
He stuffed the notebook with everything he had thought of into the bag, as well as a water bottle, a pack of gum and some crisps.
He wasn’t patrolling tonight. Sure, he would help someone should they be in the area, but he wasn’t running around the city looking for people to help.
He sat down on the edge of the roof where Zephyrus had found him, swinging his feet as he settled the bag down next to him, making sure it wouldn’t fall. He didn’t trust the water bottle not to spill.
He spent about 3 hours on the roof before scoffing, kicking himself for thinking that Zephyrus would even be around.
Tommy had said that he’d have an ear to the ground for avians, not that he’d tell the man anything, why should he be out and about?
He had kicked himself onto the roof properly when he saw the blur of black in the sky.
He smiled for a second and then stopped.
He didn’t want to see Boreas.
Would Boreas even give the book to Zephyrus?
He’d chance it.
The man landed on the roof and stared at Tommy for a few seconds.
“Theseus, I presume.”
Tommy nodded, “And you’re Boreas.”
“You’re an avian.”
Tommy stepped back, raising his eyebrows, “Yeah.”
“Why do you hide your wings?”
Tommy tilted his head, “Does it matter?”
“It can’t feel nice.”
“Yeah, well,” He shrugged, “They’re dead weight.”
It was Boreas who took a step back this time, and Tommy sighed at the concern that wafted over him.
“Listen, I know that you’re thinking of me as a helpless chick right now, something about avian genes and being protective over avians younger than them, but I’m not helpless, so you can stop with the concern and shit.”
“I’m not-”
“Did Zephyrus not tell you that he figured out I was an empath? Shit communication, if he didn’t.”
Boreas paused in the same way that Zephyrus had when he learned it.
“Jesus. Y’know, for being villains, you aren't even fucking trying to hide your emotions. Like, I don't even have any proper fucking training, which is shit, but I can just-” He waved a hand, “You’re an open fucking book. Never thought I’d say I missed Notos, but he doesn’t broadcast everything.”
“Uh- okay. You’re different than I expected.”
“How so?”
“You’re so… chatty.”
“Yeah, well, I don't have anyone screaming in my ear to shut up right now, so my brain just keeps going. Oh god, I didn't think about- oh I’m gonna be so fucked.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Nevermind. Thinking out loud, please ignore me.”
“This conversation took a much different turn than I wanted.”
“Yeah, sorry. That happens with me. What were you saying?”
“Your wings.”
“Right, well… it’s complicated and shit. I was never properly taught how to take of them, so. And they’re tied into my brain shit, so as easily it is to feel what you feel, it'd be like I was fucking- I had a breakdown the other day, long overdue, we’re good now, but it was like the first time in a while that I actually had my wings out, but looking back on it, I’m pretty sure half the shit I felt wasn’t actually me but the person I was with. So, empath,” He pointed at himself, “Meet a fucking train, pretty much.”
“Why wouldn't you- why do you have no training?”
And there was the concern.
“Christ, there is really no communication between your team, is there? Whatever, I’m not explaining it,” he picked up his rucksack from where it sat on the ground, unzipping the pocket and-
Boreas moved quickly, a gun pointed at Tommy in half a second.
“Yeah, that was probably a bad move, wasn't it? Don’t worry, Big Man, it’s just paper. And water. And gum and crisps. I’ve kind of just been chilling tonight.” He reached his hand in slowly, pulling out the notebook even slower and then dropped the bag, “I just wanted to give you this. Well, give this to you for Zephyrus. I’m not waiting for him to be out next, so to you it goes.”
“What is it?”
“Information. Things he asked me for that I wasn’t willing to give then. I’d still rather not give it to him of all people, but the Heroes have a whole bunch of procedures and shit. He can do whatever. You all can.”
“What on?”
Tommy sighed, holding out the book for the man to take, “Las Nevadas.”
Boreas’ wings puffed, his gun lifting from where it had fallen, “You’re with-”
“Fuck no. I got out. There are a lot of people who didn’t. And if this is how I can help them, then it’s worth the fucking- it’s worth you learning some shit about me.”
Boreas grabbed the book, flipping through the pages.
“It doesn’t have any anthrax, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Tommy said, laughing slightly, “Or poison of any kind. I don't even know where to get poison.”
That'd be a fun project for Tubbo, though.
“This is… thorough.”
“Yeah, well, I spent a lot of time trapped there. It’s four years out of date, though, so I don't know how much of it is good, except for the bit about the slime hybrid. I learned that a year ago, and then I had an anxiety attack that lasted the better part of 6 hours, so.”
Boreas looked up at Tommy, “Why did Zephyrus ask you about Las Nevadas?”
“Man, I’m not your fucking messenger. Work on your communication with him. ‘Sides, I should probably be leaving. I didn’t tell anyone I was going out tonight and I’d rather be back before they realize I left.”
“Do they… hurt you?”
“What? Fuck no. I am just not in the mood to be chewed out tonight,” Tommy turned, grabbing his bag from where he had dropped it and walking to the edge of the roof. He kept pushing at Boreas, not enough to read what he was thinking, but to know what he felt, “Hey, Big Man?”
Boreas simply hummed.
“If you get them out, please don’t tell them about me.”
“What?”
“The other avians, I mean. They… wouldn’t be happy to know that I stuck around.”
“... Okay.”
“Cool. Cool, thanks.”
----
“I think Theseus might be younger than you two,” Phil said as he walked into the living room.
“Huh?” Wilbur looked up from where he had his face stuffed into a pillow, likely trying to sleep.
“You spoke to Theseus?”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah. He gave me a notebook full of information on Las Nevadas. Care to tell me what that’s about, Wil?”
That seemed to wake Wilbur up, “He gave you- let me see it.”
“Wait a minute. Why did you ask Theseus for information on Las Nevadas ?” Techno asked, pushing himself upright.
“He was at the lab fire. Stole his own files from the building. Figured he’d have to know something about it.”
“Let me get this straight,” Techno said, staring at his twin in disbelief, “You asked someone about their experience in a place that most definitely traumatized them? Likely without forewarning, as well? What the hell, Wil?”
“Well, when you put it like that it sounds really bad.”
“Because it is!”
Phil raised an eyebrow at his sons, “ Why did you want the information, Wil? Theseus told me that we needed to work on our communication, and I’m beginning to think that he might’ve been right.”
“You won’t- it doesn’t matter. Can I see it?”
Phil rolled his eyes, throwing the notebook at his son, “There’s a letter in the back for you.”
“Wait, can we talk about you thinking Theseus is younger than us?”
“I'm judging by his voice, what he said to me and what he said in the letter… it doesn't look good. He hasn’t been trained to use his powers. Or his wings.”
Techno frowned and Wilbur looked at his father, head tilted, “Tell me you’re not thinking-”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking, Wil. He’s an avian. He’s a mental type. He was abducted when he was young. He got out. Those are the facts we know.”
“He likes cats,” Techno added, “And he actually hates the name Theseus. I’ve known that for a while.”
“He hates the name Theseus?”
“Something about him being a ‘wrongun’ and him being nothing like that.”
“Huh.”
“I’ve been kind of tempted to start calling him Icarus.”
“Because of the wings?”
“... Yes. Stop judging me."
----
Zephyrus,
This is how I help.
I lied when I told you I knew of no other avians. There were two others when I was at the facility. A-1 and A-2 (can you guess what that made me, the third avian they caught? A-3. Real fucking original). One male, one female. Siblings, I think. Maybe cousins. They were related. Their wings were really warm colours, reds and oranges and pinks. They’re probably mid to late 20s. I’m not sure. I only know my true age because of the file, and I only know that’s true because they stole a photo with a timestamp when they stole me (I was at my own fucking birthday party, how shit is that? They steal a picture of me on my fucking birthday to compare it to how I grow. It makes me laugh, to be honest), so I have no fucking clue. They could be early 20s or even in their fucking 30’s. I’ve never been good at guessing ages.
They’ve probably changed the codes and shit from when I left because that was four years ago, but this is what I know.
Schedules, rotations, experiments, cameras, layout.
The lab you burned down was where they’d take us anytime we refused to do something.
I realize I never thanked you for burning it down.
Quackity is the guy at the top. That’s what they all called him. I think they called him Alex every so often. I’m not sure. It might have been Alec. He’s human, no powers (unless you want to call mental manipulation by gaslighting the shit out of people a power). He’s originally from Mexican L’Manburg (is it El Rapids now?). He had two fiances at one point, not sure what happened to them.
Purpled is the one running the place after him. He’s a mercenary? I don’t know, it was weird. He’s quick to anger, quicker to react. He’s the guy you’d need to take out first. You don’t want him around for whatever happens after the rest go.
The other guy at the top is Awe(sam)dude. He’s a creeper hybrid. He was nice, I guess. Relocated my shoulder once after I pissed off Purpled. Made sure I didn’t starve. Though, I guess that’s the bare fucking minimum. I think he was a physical type? Like a technopath. Is that a physical type? I’m not sure. But he was really fucking good with tech. He’s who gave me the codes. Maybe they’ll work then. If he got me out, then maybe he made it so that I could get back in if I wanted? That’s stupid, sorry. I don’t think he wanted to be there. He told me about this guy that he loved once, and that he would do anything to keep him safe. He said he was sorry about what they did to me.
Then there’s Foolish Gamers. Noah, I think? He was human. Elemental type. Like the earth and shit. Cool. Scary. He was kind of nice too. He always cleaned me up whenever Quackity hit me. Made sure I didn’t freeze when I first got there. Talked me down more than once. He’s their architect. I don’t think he knew the full scope of what was happening. Like, he knew that I, that all the people there were being treated poorly, but I don’t think he knew just how bad it was. Or maybe he just tried to keep out of it so that he’d be safe.
Fundy was their demolitions expert. Not much to say on him. Not a hybrid, though he could pass for a fox hybrid with enough training. No powers, I think. Actually, he was a ruin type. That’s why he was their demolitions guy. Because he’s like a fucking human stack of tnt (like a creeper? But not a one-time-only type of deal. Also, he can control the size of the explosion). He knew what was going on. He didn’t care. He didn’t like me, but he didn’t hurt me, so that’s something.
There’s a newer addition to their team. I learned this a year or so back, when I was curious and very fucking self-destructive. Slime hybrid that goes by Slimecicle (Charlie? Slime?). No powers. He’s fucking putty in Quackity’s hands. He’s Quackity’s soft spot though, so use that information as you will. Purpled hates Charlie. Honestly, he might have killed him, wouldn’t surprise me. Charlie seems nice. Naive. He’s a spy, I think. I actually met him once, when I was skulking around and doing shit. Quackity hasn’t come after me, so I don’t think the dude told him. I’m pretty sure that he thinks that what he’s doing is stuff that friends normally do. I think he needs help getting out as well.
I can’t help the people there. Every time I get within 10 kilometres of the building I have a fucking panic attack, so, I’d be shit anyways.
You can help them, though. I realized that after I got home. Maybe I’m a coward. But we all have our pasts, and I’m not quite ready to confront mine yet.
Good luck,
Theseus
P.S. Charlie knew my name. Not Theseus, but like my legal name. Blank from Nowhere. Looking back on it I laugh because it’s funny but that fucking hurt, man. Knowing that you don’t belong anywhere, I mean. So, try not to freak out if he knows yours.
Notes:
me; writes "he's wil's assisstant." bc phil is TOO high up, and i just didn't want to make him techno's
my brain; like the burger van?
me; ...
me; right. that's. that's lore.
Chapter 6: Steadily Becoming What I Hate
Summary:
“And there’s my ride,” He said, walking backwards, voice lilting as he said, “Truly an honour to meet you, Mister Sapnap, sir, but I really must be going,”
The hero snarled at him, held at bay by a shadow and an injured knee.
Tommy didn’t flinch at the satisfaction he felt at the sight.
Notes:
so. i enjoy writing angst a lot more than fluff because i'm a lot better at it (this sucks when it comes to school projects and the teachers get concerned. my apologizes, i didn't realize that writing had to be happy to be good), but that isn't possible throughout the entire story. so while i'm trying not to rush through to get to those scenes, i might be and i genuinely apologize for that if i am.
TW// referenced past-abuse, blood and injury (burn), some violence, animal cruelty, mentioned murder, mentioned medical malpractice/abuse
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Here is what they don’t tell you:
----
Tommy thought that people were good.
Sure, there were villains, but there were heroes, too!
Sure, some people were bad, but that was only a small minority, and therefore, people were good. And that was that.
----
Icarus laughed as he fell.
Threw his head back and yelled into the winds,
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.
----
Tommy didn’t understand bad people.
He had thought that people were good, that people were meant to be good, and then a man had killed his mother in front of him.
And then they stole him from his home, from his family.
Everything would be okay, though. It had to be.
Dad would save him.
The Heroes would save him.
The bad would not negate the good.
----
(There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring.)
----
Tommy lost count of the days after 257. He was forgetting his numbers. The scientists weren’t teaching him anything, which he found stupid because they were learning things from him and it was rude to take without giving back.
Dad hadn’t come for him yet.
The Heroes hadn’t come for him yet.
Hunger gnawed at him as he curled into a ball. It was too cold in his room and he was scared.
Tommy wasn’t so sure that anybody was going to save him anymore.
His hope burned dimly, the candle nearly out of wax.
----
The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
Feathers floated like prayers past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
----
Tommy’s name did not belong to him anymore. It was a remnant, nothing but a memory of the past.
Tommy did not believe that anyone here was good anymore.
His hope had long burnt out.
He sighed as he was pushed forward, shackles jingling a sad song from his feet.
An avian should not be grounded.
----
Death breathed burning kisses against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
The sun painted everything in shades of gold.
----
The sun was bright and burning.
The light reflected off of the glass of the buildings surrounding him, enveloping him in warmth, breathing kisses that he hadn’t felt in so long.
He laughed, wings held out behind him, dragging slightly against the ground as he walked.
The wind gently caressed his feathers and he relented, allowing himself to indulge at long last.
----
(There is a certain beauty in setting the world on fire and watching from the centre of the flames.)
----
Tommy wouldn’t say he was a good person.
Tommy wouldn’t say anyone was a good person.
That being said, Tommy wouldn’t say anyone was a bad person, either.
Sure, it would be nice to think that people were inherently one thing or another, but that’s debating on human nature. And if humans were inherently good, what awful thing would have to happen to change you from being good to being bad?
It was slightly skewed, Tommy supposed, good and bad, heroes and villains — it wasn’t that black and white. Nothing was that black and white. Everything was an infinite expanse of ever-changing greys, rolling and stretching and never allowing any other colour to join their constantly growing symphony.
He could argue morality over this point, he had before, but he found no point in it. To claim morality over something is to claim that what you think is over what someone else thinks. It made no sense, not to him, not when he felt what others felt and knew just how intricate and different each person was.
He had given up on trying to make people see reason with words.
He had very nearly given up on people.
----
It was raining. Not even raining, pouring.
It was pouring, and was this the type of person he was now?
His hands shook and he curled them into fists, pulling them into his chest tightly.
What would young him think of him now?
Tommy laughed bitterly, it didn’t much matter, now did it? Young him was gone and had been gone for a long time.
Tommy was not naive to the horrors of the world as he had once been, and no matter how much he wished he could go back at times, he never could. He had learned to accept that fact long ago, no matter how much it burned every time he was reminded of it.
He lifted a hand to his face, glaring at the blood staining his fingers as though it was the root of all his problems.
It wasn’t, but it was the root of one of them.
The man lay in front of him, breathing shallow and uneven.
He gurgled suddenly and Tommy felt the urge to throw up.
He was dying, Tommy knew, he was dying and there was no one there to prevent his death.
No one willing, at least.
Tommy simply stood there, watching the man’s final moments.
“I’ve never killed anyone before,” He admitted, several minutes later when he felt a presence beside him.
He glanced over at who had joined him.
“You haven’t?” Notos asked.
Tommy simply shrugged, “I’ve never needed to. Is it bad that I don’t feel bad? I mean he was- his panic was suffocating, and I thought it was mine, but it wasn’t. I didn’t even feel it. Is that bad?”
“... I don’t think I’m the best person to ask on this matter.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the only one here,” And he was, Tommy had turned off his earpiece directly after it had happened, the panic freaking him out enough to cut off his only support.
Notos walked over, sitting next to him, “I don’t think- I think it’s hard to know exactly what is bad.”
“That’s helpful.”
“No, I mean-” He sighed, pausing to collect his words.
Tommy looked back at the man lying on the concrete, white lab coat stained by red. The rain was washing his blood down the alley.
A completely black shadow sniffed at him, and then bit lightly at the man’s arm.
It seemed to deflate as it realized the man was dead.
Tommy tilted his head at it.
“I can’t say what’s good or bad when I don’t know what happened,” Notos said, finally.
“... He recognized me. Called me A-3. I want to say that the reason I hurt him to begin with was because he would’ve told someone and that would’ve put my family in danger, but I think- I think I just wanted revenge.”
“That’s natural.”
“Doesn’t make it healthy.”
“No,” Notos agreed, “But it makes you human. And you do know that him knowing you were around would put your family in danger, so what does that mean?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Well, you said that you wanted to think that that was why you hurt him, right? At least to begin with?”
“Yeah.”
“So then it doesn’t really matter, does it? You’d have had to kill him anyway if you wanted to keep your family safe.”
Tommy frowned, “I suppose.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the first time I killed someone was because he killed my brother. I was sixteen. That was for revenge, too.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No, I- thanks, but the asshole’s still alive and kicking. Like, he died but was brought back to life. Oh, the joys of science.”
“If I couldn’t feel your gratitude, I would’ve actually thought that you wanted your brother dead.”
Notos laughed, “Ah, well, I tried.”
Tommy smiled, chuckling lightly, “Thanks. Why’re you here, though?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. Was bored and the shadows saw you,” He paused, and Tommy felt his conflict. Finally, he said, “Maybe I wanted to apologize.”
“Huh?”
“For the-” He made a stabbing gesture, “For hurting you. That wasn’t deserved, though what you said to me might’ve been. I just… really hate being called selfish.”
Quackity and Purpled never apologized for hurting him. Weird how that worked, huh?
Tommy took a shaky breath, “I gathered that. It’s whatever, though. I’ve had worse before. You know, Zephyrus watched the video of you doing that, called my fear ‘delectable’ to my face like he’s a fucking vampire or something.”
“He might as well be. Always skulking around at night and drinking wine. Might be blood, who knows,” He said, bringing his hands up and using his fingers as mock fangs, “I am Zephyrus, and I will drain you of your lifeforce, oh how delicious you smell. No, come here, my bloood!”
Tommy laughed. Not the chuckle like before, but full-on laughed, hard enough that his stomach ached when he stopped, “You’re… not bad.”
“I think a lot of people would disagree.”
“No, I mean- it’s what you said, isn’t it? Can’t make a judgment when you don’t know what happened? And besides, that’s not what I meant. I meant you’re… chill? I guess.”
Notos huffed a laugh, “Wow. Such a great compliment, thanks. I shall forever treasure the memory of being called ‘chill’ by the great Theseus.”
Tommy felt his face flush and looked to the ground, “... Have you had any luck? Finding that avian you’re looking for?”
“You-”
“Zephyrus told me,” Tommy defended quickly, “Or, he just wasn't careful enough with his words. It’s easy enough to read between the lines and use emotions for confirmation.”
Notos looked at him, “No. We haven’t. We- I don’t even know if he's still alive,” He laughed bitterly, “It’s been… a long time. Who knows if he even remembers us.”
“You tend-” Tommy licked his lips, “I remember my before. Not well , because I was young, but I remember it enough. The memories you make in those labs… aren’t good ones, and I cling to what I remember that is good. So, while I can’t speak for him and while I don't want to give you false hope, he might.” Tommy forfeit the ‘if he’s still alive.’
“... Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Notos stood suddenly, walking over to the body. He paused a step from the dead man, looking back at Tommy and then gestured to the man, “Can I…?”
“I have no idea what you’re asking.”
“It’s your kill,” Tommy froze at the words, something rising in the back of his throat, “Whatever he has is rightfully yours. Can I look through it?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure, whatever.”
Notos knelt down, rifling through the man’s pockets. Every time he found something, he threw it inside a pocket in his outfit.
Tommy bit back a scoff.
He walked back over to where Tommy sat once he was done, pulling out everything he had taken and settling it in the middle of where they sat, the only dry spot left in the alleyway.
Blood covered most of the items, and Tommy flinched as Notos wiped most of it off as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “You’ll get used to it eventually.”
“... I doubt it. I’ve never quite liked blood.”
Notos snorted lightly, “Yeah, well, sort of comes with the territory, kid.”
“Yeah, I know. Still kind of shit though. Y’know, I’m afraid of heights?”
“What?” He laughed.
“Yeah. Awful for an avian, right? They used to drop me from high places to get me to fly. I refused to do it a lot,” He shrugged.
“No, that-” Notos cut himself off, and Tommy flinched away at steadily growing anger, “They dropped you?”
“... Yeah?” Tommy said, “I- uh, I refused to a lot of the time. That’s what they resorted to.”
“And it got you to?” He asked, and Tommy could feel the anger being pushed back, could feel the attempt to ignore it, as Notos resumed cleaning off the objects.
“Sometimes.”
Notos didn’t speak, his body tensing and untensing repeatedly.
Tommy took a breath and then pushed at his brain lightly, flinching away at the anger and contempt.
He stood, “I really should-”
“No,” Notos said, forcefully. And then, after Tommy flinched back, softer, “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” He stopped himself, head snapping up to look at something behind Tommy.
Tommy turned slowly, keeping an eye on the villain, and took a sharp breath at the hero standing at the mouth of the alleyway, hands tucked into his pockets.
He stepped back, and then bit his tongue in an attempt to muffle his cry as he stumbled over the dead scientist.
The hero, Dream, walked closer, pulling a hand out of his pocket to grip the handle of the axe strapped to his hip, “Hello, Notos and… friend?”
“Oh, we’re not friends,” Notos replied, slipping the majority of the things he had taken off the scientist back into his pocket. He stepped forward, something hanging between his fingers.
“No? Then what are you?”
“He’s an acquaintance. Much like you. You know Theseus, don’t you?” He glanced at Tommy as he stepped by, hand brushing against his and dropping what he was holding.
Tommy looked up at the hero, whose head tilted at him, “Alright?”
“Sure.”
Tommy slipped the thing in his hand into a pocket along the side of his trousers, the other hand reaching up and turning his earpiece on again, swallowing his fear response. He flicked the dagger along his forearm into his hand, holding it so that the hero wouldn’t see it.
Notos stopped a few steps ahead of him, mostly blocking him from Dream’s view.
Weird.
Dream pulled his axe out of its holder (sheath? Tommy wasn’t exactly sure what the name was), adjusting his grip as he stared at the villain.
“Listen, Dream, dude, I’m not in the mood to have a fight right now.”
“No? But you just killed someone, didn’t you? That constitutes me fighting you, dude. ”
Notos glanced over his shoulder at the body, and then tilted his head up to look at Tommy, “Eh,” He said as he looked back, “Man deserved it.”
“Nobody deserves death.”
“We disagree on this.”
“And you, Theseus? What might the famed vigilante think?”
“Uh,” He said, wiping his hand along his trousers, the other twitching anxiously, “Dunno, man. Matters of morality aren’t my favourite to debate on.”
Notos snorted.
Dream stalled.
Someone landed behind Tommy, and he turned.
Sapnap.
Tommy almost snorted. At least if he had to fight a hero, their powers wouldn’t be working well. What even was the point of bringing a fire wielder out in the pouring rain?
Something pushed against his leg, and he glanced down slightly to see a completely black shadow, creeping towards Sapnap slowly.
“Hm,” Sapnap said, “Awfully protective of someone that’s not a friend, aren’t you, Notos?”
Tommy spoke before him, “He literally left me to bleed out on the sidewalk a month ago, I assure you, we aren’t friends.”
Notos’ emotional composure slipped at the words, and Tommy flinched.
He had enjoyed Notos’ presence, sure, but were they friends? The answer was no, not really. But also, Tommy just wasn’t quite in the mood to fight a hero.
“Sorry,” He muttered anyway.
The shadow seemed to look back at Tommy, and he reached forward slowly, patting its head lightly.
He frowned at the feeling.
He dragged a finger along its head slowly, frown deepening as it seemed like liquid.
The shadows were like oobleck, he decided.
“Tommy!” Sounded Tubbo’s voice, “Oh thank god, you’re okay. You are okay, right?”
Dream spoke from behind him, “You can always just surrender, Notos, we don’t have to do this.”
“... Allow Theseus to go and I won’t hospitalize you.”
Sapnap laughed, “It really doesn’t seem like he wants you dead, Theseus.”
“Yeah, well, people change their minds. Called thinking. You ever tried it?”
Steam hissed as flames flickered along Sapnap’s arms only to be put out by the rain.
Hm.
The shadow stepped completely in front of Tommy, a second one, ruby-eyed this time, rubbing along his legs and then prancing forward and rubbing its head along the side of the black one.
Its gaze snapped up to the hero suddenly, and it lowered itself slowly, positioning itself to jump at something, at someone.
Sapnap’s netherite sword glowed from where it was sheathed on his back, painting him in light purple as he stepped forward slowly.
Tommy tilted his head at him, and then surveyed the area around him, glancing up at the building on either side, “Did you seriously jump like 30 feet? That’s gotta be hard on your joints, Snapchat.”
Sapnap faltered, “I- what the fuck did you just call me?”
“You heard me, Subpoena.”
“Sapnap,” The hero said, thumbs cracking the knuckles on each hand.
“That’s what I said.”
“You have 5 seconds,” He said, “To step the fuck out of my way, ‘else you’ll be leaving on a stretcher.”
Hm.
Tommy smiled, curious and slightly manic, as he glanced from the shadow creatures to the hero, “I’ll take my chances, Sciophobia.”
The man paused, and then pulled his sword from its sheath, starting forward.
Tommy flicked his dagger into his hand completely, fixing his stance to be more fit to do something. Tommy wasn’t sure whether his body was readying itself to fight or flee.
But he was really not in any position to fight a trained hero.
The ruby-eyed shadow jumped at Sapnap, only for him to side-step and then turn, slashing it with the enchanted sword. It made a sound similar to a dog crying, flames burning through its body, the rain doing nothing to put it out.
Notos seemed to growl, spinning on his heel to look halfway at Sapnap, “You goddamn-”
“Fire Aspect II,” Sapnap said, sick satisfaction twisted into his voice, “Bye-bye shadows.”
The black shadow pawed at the concrete, leaving claw marks with every pass.
Tommy stepped forward, “Is that not, like, animal cruelty? That’s fucking sick, man.”
“They’re hardly alive.”
“How the fuck would you know the intricacies of my power?” Notos asked, twin blades now in his hands.
“They’re shadows. ”
“And you’re a sick man.”
“Funny words coming from a murderer.”
“I never said I wasn’t.”
Tommy didn’t understand why Notos was allowing them to think that he had killed the scientist. He hadn’t, and if there had been any more light, they would’ve been able to tell that from the blood staining Tommy’s clothes, Tommy’s dagger, even.
He didn’t say anything.
“Need a teleport?”
Sapnap took another step forward, faster this time.
Tommy really didn’t want to fight a hero, but-
But swords were awful when you had no reach to use them.
Of course, it would mean that Sapnap could as easily grab him, but that was much preferred to being impaled.
Tommy matched his step, and then charged at him, dropping at the last second possible to slide on his knees. He ducked under the hero’s extended arm, pushing himself to his feet behind him.
He vaguely registered Dream swinging his axe at Notos.
Sapnap turned as Tommy closed the distance between them, enough so that he couldn’t be impaled with the sword.
“Theseus! What do you need?”
“A minute!” He responded, slashing at Sapnap with his dagger.
The man jumped backwards, and then grabbed Tommy’s wrist on the next slash, weak flames burning through his sweater.
Tommy dropped the dagger, catching it by the blade with his other hand. He jabbed the handle into Sapnap’s stomach, causing him to groan, his grip loosening on Tommy’s wrist.
Sapnap’s suit didn’t have much protection to it, which was completely stupid and left open spots for anyone with basic self-defence training to go after.
Such as the brachial plexus, a nerve grouping between your shoulder and arm that carried movement and signals from the spinal cord to the arms and hands. A hard enough blow to it can cause intense pain and a numb sensation in the hand.
Sapnap’s sword clattered against the ground, purple enchantments glowing in the shallow puddle.
Tommy kicked the hero’s knee in, a move that would definitely create bad blood should they come across the other in the future, but would ensure he couldn’t be followed.
Sapnap fell, and Tommy pushed him back further, kicking his sword away as he did.
Notos’ shadow lunged at Sapnap as he went to hit Tommy with his working arm.
“Oh, let’s not do that,” He said, jumping back. He walked over to the dropped sword, picking it up and revelling in the tingle of enchantments crawling along his arm, “I think… I think I’ll take this, thanks, man.”
“Theseus?”
“Send him.”
Tommy slid his dagger back into it’s makeshift sheath along his forearm, keeping an eye on Sapnap and the shadow that kept him down.
Sapnap reached out to touch it at one point, weak flames flickering in his wet palm, and the shadow snapped its jaws down on his arm, shaking its head a few times before releasing, snarling at the hero. Blood dripped from his arm and Tommy raised an eyebrow.
Dream and Notos were still fighting, axe against blades.
Tommy turned at a vwoop sounding behind him, and smiled at his roommate, who wore a gas mask that Tubbo had stolen from his internship, his hair covered by a hood.
“And there’s my ride,” He said, walking backwards, voice lilting as he said, “Truly an honour to meet you, Mister Sapnap, sir, but I really must be going,”
The hero snarled at him, held at bay by a shadow and an injured knee.
Tommy didn’t flinch at the satisfaction he felt at the sight.
----
It was a wallet. Notos had given him the scientist’s wallet.
Tommy laughed bitterly as he stared at the money inside laid out on the table.
He had snapped the driver’s licence as soon as he had seen it, cutting it into pieces so small it would be impossible to tape it back together.
He had no want to know his name.
That plan had gone to shit, however, because his name was printed on both his debit and credit card.
Ranboo had been uncomfortable with the idea of using a dead man’s money at first, but was eventually worn down by Tubbo, who insisted that the man would’ve just as easily killed him, given the chance.
So, both Ranboo and Tubbo were taking stock of what they needed to buy.
They would only use it for one day, they had decided, and then they would ditch the cards and go back to using their own money.
He scoffed, shaking his head.
He wanted to appreciate the sentiment of Notos giving him money, truly he did, but-
But, what the fuck, man?
Did he really look that poor?
Or was it just an attempt at buying Tommy’s loyalty?
Would he hold this act of goodwill over Tommy in the future?
Tommy pushed the thoughts away, piling the objects into an old shoebox that was filled with other things they had stolen, or things that were from past identities that they weren’t willing to get rid of.
A photo of Tommy sitting on a bench with a black-haired boy stuck out to him, a pride flag he had bought for his friend sliding off his shoulders slightly. They were laughing at something.
Tommy sighed, and closed the box.
It was for the better, he decided. Too long in one place was risky, and he wasn’t willing to risk others like that.
Sapnap’s netherite sword glowed mockingly from where he had stashed it under their couch the night before.
----
Tommy winced at the pain pulsing in his wrist, the skin reddened by Sapnap’s grip. It was only the top of his arm, thankfully, which was less likely for him to hit it on something (and also not in the shape of a hand, so that was good).
He sighed as he ran it under cool water, his other hand gripping the side of the sink.
He didn’t look good, which was awful because Niki had seen it the second he had stepped into the cafe with Tubbo, and had brought him off to the side, offering kind words and someone to talk to if he needed to.
He resented the fact that he couldn’t tell her. She was an amazing person, and yet here he was worrying her.
He pulled his arm back from the water, turning the tap off and shaking his hand slightly in an attempt to get some water off.
He grabbed some of the paper towels from the dispenser, wincing as he patted the area of the burn, the paper rubbing roughly against the skin.
He froze at the sound of knocking on the door.
“Tommy! Hey, you alright?” That was Wilbur.
“Uh- yeah, fine.”
He re-wrapped his arm quickly, wincing slightly at how tight the bandage was, but pulled his shirt over it anyway.
He opened the door to see Wilbur leaning against the wall.
“You- uh, you look like shit.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“No, I-” He grimaced, “Sorry, that was bad.”
Tommy hummed, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” He said, a half a second too fast. He cleared his throat, repeating, “Nothing.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow but said nothing otherwise, shaking his head and walking out towards the front of the bakery.
“Actually,” Wilbur grabbed his wrist, palm pushing against the burn.
Tommy flinched, yanking his arm away quickly and holding it to his chest, rubbing the area to soothe the pain shooting through it.
“... Are you okay?”
“Fine. Spilled some boiling water on myself. It’s fine.”
Wilbur froze for a second, “You burnt yourself?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
“Can I look at it?”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “Sure, man. If that will placate you.” He pulled his sleeve up.
Wilbur grabbed his arm again, more carefully this time, “This is an awful bandage for a burn.”
“Yeah, well.”
Wilbur unwrapped it, and grimaced at the angry red with some small blisters, “You really should’ve gotten this treated.”
“With these healthcare prices?”
Wilbur pulled him back towards the backroom.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing your mess of an arm.”
“Wilbur, it’s fine.”
Wilbur pushed him into the room regardless, forcing him to stand with his arm over the sink.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out more things than it should be able to hold.
He rummaged through the mess, grabbing a bottle filled with some sort of pink liquid.
Tommy tilted his head at the liquid, trying to place what it was but falling short.
Wilbur pocketed the rest of the things in his hands and then opened the bottle.
It was sickeningly sweet, and Tommy remembered the smell from when it’d be shoved down his throat as to heal an injury they wanted to hide and-
“That’s a health potion. Why do you casually carry a health potion on you?”
“Techno’s clumsy,” Wilbur responded, as though he wasn’t carrying something that some people would quite literally kill for. He filled the pipet that was attached to the lid of the bottle, “Arm, Tommy.”
The liquid itched as it was dripped onto the burnt skin, and the sweet smell grew sweeter, choking Tommy.
He grimaced as some of his skin fell from his arm, only to be replaced instantly by new skin.
Wilbur capped the bottle and placed it back in his pocket, and then turned the water on, running Tommy’s arm under it.
“... What the fuck?”
“What? Something wrong?”
“No, that just-” Tommy scrunched his nose, “That’s unnerving.”
“You never use a health potion?”
“Wilbur, man, I’m not rich. But yes, I have, just never topically. That was weird.”
Wilbur paused, glancing up to look Tommy in the face.
He shook his head, stopping himself from saying something.
“Say what you want.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Huh?”
“The-” He waved a hand, “You’re not rich, You’ve never used one topically, which typically costs less, but you have ingested one, which also means that it was a more severe injury. What- what happened?”
Tommy laughed, “A lot of things, big man. Too many to say all at once.”
Wilbur’s curiosity was nearly morbid, and Tommy bit back a maniacal smile at the emotion, a swell of heat and cold and shivers in a good way.
----
“Dr. Hansen’s dead.”
The man wearing a beanie turned, “ What?”
“Hansen’s dead,” Purpled said, “Someone killed him.”
Quackity gritted his teeth, “Who, mercenary?”
Purpled tilted his head coolly at the title, “ The heroes’ report says that it was Notos.”
“But?”
“Theseus was there with him.”
“Get to the fucking point.”
“Your little pet claims that Theseus was the one to kill him.”
“My what? ”
“That- fucking slime hybrid.”
“He’s not a goddamn pet, Purpled. His name is Slimecicle. You’d do well to be kind to him.”
Purpled simply scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Do you not want to know what else Slime said?”
Quackity waved his hand for Purpled to continue.
“Apparently Hansen called our famed little vigilante A-3.”
Quackity blinked, “... Sorry?”
“You heard me.”
Quackity laughed, “Oh, my,” He brought a hand to his mouth, “Leave me be, Purpled. I need to plan.”
Purpled scoffed once again, turning on his heel. He shut the door behind him with more force than necessary. Quackity would get what was coming for him one day. Purpled just needed a higher bidder first.
Notes:
poem by Fiona. http://wearealsoboats.tumblr.com/post/51761202038
me alluding to other friends? pft, never.
fun fact! my favourite myth is icarus. can you tell?
Chapter 7: You Have Always Been There In My Mind
Summary:
“Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss is all I know now, Techno. It has taken over my every thought. Please, eat the muffin, spare yourself from the oppressing weight of the Triple G’s.”
Techno blinked, “... Okay, then. I’ll eat the stupid muffin.”
“Good. Don’t give into the girlbossing, Techno.”
Notes:
i've had three days of school and i'm already dead tired, so that's not any fun. i also have a test tomorrow. i should be studying but whatever.
TW// mentioned murder, mentioned human experimentation, panic attack
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tommy remembered his mother. At least, mostly. Black hair and brown eyes and a warm smile.
He remembered dancing with her, and her laughing every time he’d fall over before pulling him back up.
He remembered soft words and warm hugs whenever he got hurt, but also stern words whenever he would do something he wasn’t supposed to.
But the thing he remembered most was his mother lying on the floor, blood surrounding her. He had crawled to her, sobbing, begging her to wake up, because ‘Mummy, there are bad people.’ He remembered being pulled from her body, kicking and screaming and even biting at the person holding him, scarring their hand and branding them a murderer, an inhuman.
He remembered his father, blonde hair and kind words and infectious laughter. He remembered words of warning, saying that there were people who didn’t like their family and that they would try to harm them. He didn’t understand, not at the time. Why would someone want to hurt him? His Mum? His Dad? His brothers? It didn’t make any sense.
He still didn’t understand it when it did happen.
He did now, kind of. Of course, he couldn’t completely. He didn’t know who his father or brothers were. He had looked up his name and nothing had come up, which didn’t make sense because there were always articles about missing children and-
And he didn’t want to face the possibility that maybe his father didn’t care enough about him to make a big thing out of his abduction.
And he didn’t understand everything, and he was looking in the wrong places for the remaining puzzle pieces, but he had no clue where else to look.
He could understand now that his father must’ve had enemies, must’ve done something to piss off the wrong person.
Or maybe, some juvenile part of him hoped, it was just a coincidence. That it was just a home robbery gone wrong. That there was a reason there were no articles about Thomas Oliver Minecraft.
He remembered his brothers. Brown hair and brown eyes and picking him off the floor when he fell. He remembered them sneaking him an extra cookie and taking the blame for something that he had broken.
He remembered their loyalty, and he knew that it was because of them that he was as strong as he was.
He remembered teasing words, a stolen plushie, and then apologies and forehead kisses.
And yet, at some point, their faces had slipped from his memory, leaving him with vague descriptions of the people that had loved him.
And yet, he couldn’t remember their names. Their names had been stripped from his memory, ripped away without a care for how that might damage him.
He would be fine with just a singular letter. Just something he could build from, but it was all gone, and in its place lay black holes, burnt into his brain by people who haunted his dreams.
----
Tubbo glared at Tommy from where he stood, leaning against the wall.
“Okay, I fucked up, what do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to think, Tommy! Think before you act, how fucking hard is that to do?”
“It’s kind of hard to think when it feels like you can’t breathe.”
“Is that all, then? Because we’ve all had worse, and it doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“I’m not- Tubbo, listen-”
“No, you listen. I’m sick and tired of you making a mess of everything we’ve built.”
Tommy huffed a laugh, “ I’m making a mess of it? And how’s your apprenticeship going, man?”
Tubbo pushed himself off the wall, walking closer, fingers twitching, “That’s completely different.”
“Oh, you’re right. It’s even more fucking risky than what I’m doing. At least- at least the shit that I’ve let slip hasn’t been to a member of fucking Las Nevadas.”
Tubbo flinched, “... You know about that?”
Tommy laughed bitterly, “Of fucking course I know! It’s not exactly like you’ve been hiding it well, man!”
“I don’t- I-”
“What, no words anymore?”
“... I had no choice, Tommy.”
“No?”
“He’s not- He’s helping me with my powers. He doesn’t know anything, Tommy.”
“He was a bystander, Tubbo! He would stand there and watch- them beat me!”
“And then he helped heal you!”
“How the fuck does that matter when he allowed it to happen in the first place? He’s good enough, sure, but do you think he wouldn’t sell you out, sell us out the second Quackity puts pressure on him too?”
“Sam is a good man.”
Tommy laughed, “It doesn’t fucking matter, in the long run, now does it? He stood there and watched them cut me open-”
“Stop it.”
“He would stand there and-”
“Tommy, stop.”
“Help them hold me down so that they could do experiments.”
“Tommy!”
“He helped them build the thing that fucked up Ranboo’s brain, man! He used Ranboo as a fucking guinea pig! He’s not the saint you’re imagining him to be!”
“And Notos is?”
“My god, I don’t think he’s a saint, I know he’s not. But he, they, The Syndicate are trying to take them down!”
“And for why? To get back one of their own? They couldn’t give a shit any other way.”
“Does it matter the reasoning? I’m not- I’m not out there helping people out of the kindness of my heart, Tubbo. It’s an entirely selfish reasoning.”
“But it’s for the better!”
“And helping The Syndicate take down Las Nevadas in the ways that I can, isn’t? Listen to yourself, Tubbo, you’re making no sense!”
“It’s not- you- they’re just using you.”
“Then let them,” He snapped, hand rubbing the back of his neck, fingers brushing a raised scar buried beneath hair.
Tubbo gripped his head, breathing out an angry sigh, “It’s gonna go to shit, Tommy. It all does eventually.”
“Is that what this is about?” Tommy asked, “You don’t trust them?”
“Do you?”
“No. But you’re avoiding the question.”
“... We don’t know them, Tommy. They could- they could kill you without a second thought. We don’t know how they think, how they act, how they fight. It’s all so- unpredictable.”
Tommy hummed, “I could say the same about Sam. But I’ll be okay. We all will, because we got out and we’re sure as fuck not going back there. It doesn’t matter what happens, okay, because we’re not going back.”
“And you can guarantee that?”
“I can guarantee that I’d kill myself before letting myself fall back in their hands.”
“That’s not- that’s not being okay, Tommy.”
“Well, then,” He breathed a laugh, “I guess it’s not. But I don’t give a shit what happens to me if you stay safe.”
“Tommy…”
“You’ll stay safe, Tubbo. You and Ranboo, both. No matter what.”
Tubbo sighed, dropping onto the couch, resting his head in his hands.
Tommy sat down next to him, an arm’s length away, “I never- I never wanted this, Tubbo. I didn’t think I’d get this far, and if- if it’s by helping The Syndicate take down Las Nevadas, then that’s how I’ll do it. So long as they’re gone, I couldn’t give a shit how it happened.”
“They’re villains , Tommy.”
“And a hero fought me a couple of days ago. Good and bad aren’t- aren’t that simple, man. It’s never been that simple, and it never will be that simple. Titles are just that.”
“They’ve killed people.”
“And you think Sam hasn’t? You think the heroes haven’t? It’s a hell of a lot easier to look like an angel when the government is on your side, Tubbo. They have their claws sunk into the media.”
“Dream said that nobody deserves death, you heard him say that.”
“What’s with your trust in them, Tubbo? They didn’t do shit to help us when we were locked in cages, they still haven’t done shit to help the people that still are.”
“They’re stuck in procedure.”
“Fuck procedure. If they cared , they would help.”
“I can’t accept that.”
“Then can you accept that you’re only seeing one part of the picture?”
“What are you-”
“You think Sam is good. You think that because that’s all you’ve seen from him. I saw- I saw what he did, what he helped do to Ranboo. I’ve had him hold me down so that they can cut me open and experiment, Tubbo. I know that you want to think that this world is good- that the bad people are behind us, but Tubbo, it doesn’t matter. It’s not that simple.”
“But it has to be.”
Tommy sighed, placing a hand atop his friend’s, “But it isn’t, big man.”
And Tubbo frowned, staring at the ground with furrowed eyebrows, eyes watering slightly because Tommy wasn’t wrong.
And Tubbo didn’t like that.
----
“Hello, Tommy,” Techno said, leaning against the counter.
Tommy rolled his eyes, kicking a cabinet closed with his foot, “Hello, Tech-no Blade.”
“... Why’d you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“You- enunciated every syllable. It was weird.”
“Okay? What’s your point?”
Techno tilted his head, “Whatever, can I get an americano?”
“Ab-suh-loot-lee, big man.”
Techno sighed.
Tommy laughed.
A minute later, Tommy was sliding a mug in front of Techno, as well as a muffin.
“What the-”
“You look hungry.”
“How can I look hungry?”
Tommy shrugged, “You just do.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure? You really look hungry. Can’t you just feel your stomach starting to eat itself because you’re starving?”
“No, I don’t think I can.”
“Well, it is,” Tommy nodded, his face solemn, “And it hurts, Techno. You’re starving and the only way to stop it is to eat one of Niki’s magic muffins.”
“Are you, like, trying to gaslight me?”
“Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss is all I know now, Techno. It has taken over my every thought. Please, eat the muffin, spare yourself from the oppressing weight of the Triple G’s.”
Techno blinked, “... Okay, then. I’ll eat the stupid muffin.”
“Good. Don’t give into the girlbossing, Techno.”
Techno blinked again, tusks pulling on his upper lip as his mouth parted slightly in confusion.
The bell on the door rang, and Tommy turned to greet a customer.
Wilbur came a few minutes later, while Techno was picking at the muffin, pulling off small pieces before staring at them and then shoving them into his mouth.
Wilbur titled his head at his brother, and then looked at Tommy, “Hey. Can I-”
“‘Ow do, bitch?”
The man blinked, “I’m fine. How about you, Tommy?”
“Oh, I’m perfect. Definitely not running solely on adrenaline and anxiety right now. I got so much sleep last night.”
“Drink some coffee,” Techno said, pulling another piece off of his muffin.
“No. That shit’s disgusting. What can I get you, big man?”
“Uh- can I get medium hot chocolate?”
“Right away, big man, three ninety-two, please.”
Wilbur rolled his eyes, passing Tommy a five-dollar bill.
The teen nearly threw the coins into Wilbur’s hand, before turning on his heel.
“He’s really off today,” Techno whispered, as Wilbur dropped the coins into the tip jar.
“Yeah, well.”
Tommy turned back a couple of seconds later, “You want room for milk?”
“Uh, yeah, please.”
“Cool, here you go.”
“So,” Wilbur said, after Tommy had placed a small milk pitcher on the counter.
“So?”
“So, my Dad’s having this party.”
“... Okay?”
“They’re usually these really boring things because there are a bunch of old people debating on politics and heroes and villains, and it’s kind of shit, but Tech and I are allowed to invite whoever we want, so it’s a little bit better.”
“And?”
“How would you like to come to a party, Tommy?”
“Sorry?”
“Niki’s coming, if that helps.”
“... A rich people party?”
“I guess?”
“Absolutely, then. Wait, is it like one of those parties with a fuck ton of like reporters and shit, because that’s kinda-”
“No. It’s not. Dad doesn’t let reporters inside the house.”
“Okay,” Tommy said, “Okay, yeah, why the fuck not? Rich-people party sounds like the exact type of thing I want to make fun of.”
Wilbur chuckled, “You want to make fun of the parties I throw? Ouch.”
“You’re boring, Wilbur. You definitely don’t throw parties.”
“Ouch,” Techno said, taking a bite of his muffin.
“I mean- okay, listen, I don’t throw parties anymore , but I’ll have you know, the ones I used to throw were fucking amazing.”
“You mean the ones I planned?” Techno asked, glancing at his brother.
“Don’t lie to him! You were a loser, didn’t even go to any parties.”
“Now you’re lying!”
“So you admit it was a lie?”
“No, because it wasn’t a lie. But you’re being hypocritical by telling me not to lie when you are!”
Wilbur scrunched his face, a short hissing sound coming from him.
Techno snorted a warning in return.
Tommy bit back a trill, swallowing the urge to vocalize his hybrid-ness in the company of other hybrids.
The twins stared at each other for a long minute before Wilbur broke eye contact, wincing slightly, “Fine, whatever, you win.”
Techno chuffed and then cleared his throat, “So, party then?”
“Yeah, sure, sounds like a hell of a time.”
----
“This is absolute hell,” Tommy said, pulling at the collar of his shirt, “I feel like I’m being choked, jesus christ.”
Techno just laughed, “Welcome to rich-people parties, kid.”
“I hate this. I can't even make fun of this, it just- just sucks .”
Techno slung an arm around the teenager, hand cold as it brushed his skin, “Ah, well, you were the one that wanted to come.”
“Yeah, because I wanted to make fun of rich people. How the fuck am I meant to do that when I can’t breathe?”
Techno simply shrugged, “I’m sure you’ll think of something, Tommy.”
Tommy leaned against the wall, huffing. Rich people parties were stupid, he decided, they were stupid and stuffy and they didn't even have good food, so what was the fucking point?
He frowned as he watched Niki duck past an old man, flinching away as he reached out to her.
Wilbur stepped between them, speaking a few words to the man before slinging an arm around Niki, walking towards Techno and himself.
“Why’d I say yes to coming here, Wilbur? This is utter shit.”
“What, you're not getting any laughs out of rich people?”
“What I’m getting is that rich old men think that a woman owes them something simply for existing,” He nodded towards the man they had just walked away from, whose eyes were still on them, fluttering between Niki and Wilbur.
Niki huffed a laugh, “Yeah, well, I’m used to it. They’re annoying, but,” She shrugged.
Techno frowned, “That’s not really-”
“It’s fine, Tech. An old man isn’t going to change his actions simply because they make someone uncomfortable.”
Wilbur sighed, “He’s, like, 15 years past his expiry date, anyway. The only reason he’s here is because he spends an ungodly amount on regen potions every month.”
Techno snorted, “The only reason he’s around is because he refuses to let his daughter gain control of his company. Misogynistic prick.”
“Couldn’t he just, like, write her out of his will, then?” Tommy asked, and then winced, “Not that I’d encourage that, because women in positions of power are really important and feminism is pog and- I’m gonna stop talking.”
“Well, he could. He’s just an idiot.”
“Well, I can tell that. He just looks like a wrongun, doesn’t he?”
“... Sure, Tommy.”
“What? What’d I say?”
“Nothing,” Wilbur shook his head, a smile gracing his lips, “Ignore Techno.”
“God knows we all do,” Niki added, lifting a finger and tapping the man’s nose.
Techno frowned, shaking his head lightly as his nose twitched, “Have we been here long enough?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Wonderful, come on,” Techno walked away from them, disappearing into the crowd of people.
“Come where?” Tommy asked, pushing himself off of the wall as Niki grabbed his hand, pulling him towards a hall that led deeper into the house (which, by the way, was an ungodly size, what the fuck. It also gave him an odd sense of deja vu, weirdly enough).
“You think we just sit through these things?” Niki asked, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Phil might, but he’s a boring old man. No, we stay for just long enough to avoid suspicion.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna perform a blood ritual, Tommy. You’re the sacrifice,” Techno said, stepping out from a corner where he seemingly blended into the shadows.
“Huh? What in the rich-person fuckity fuck? Niki, he’s joking. He’s joking, right?”
“Who knows, Tommy, it’s Techno. He might have every intention of drinking your blood like a vampire.”
“Nah, if anyone’s the vampire, it’s Wil,” Techno snorted, chest shaking with silent laughter.
“I disagree, Wil doesn’t drink blood, he just poisons it and watches you die slowly.”
“I think you would be the vampire. Like, they don’t have blood, right, which means that they’d be freezing. And you’re fucking freezing.”
“That’s because I’m a piglin.”
Tommy looked him up and down, “If you say so.”
“Listen here, you little-”
He was cut off by Wilbur opening a door, “Are you coming, or…”
Techno narrowed his eyes at Tommy and then turned to the room, pushing the door open all the way.
The room itself wasn’t bad, and he had no reason to feel such hostility towards it, but there was some sort of odd feeling leaking from the walls, some sort of suffocating thing hanging in the air.
Tommy shivered at the stale emotions, something so powerful that they had been left lingering for however long it had been. He rolled his shoulders, trying to force the feeling away, but it clung to him like mud, repainting a spot so familiar that he felt nauseous.
He sighed through his nose, sitting down on the floor and loosening the tie around his neck.
It wasn't even his tie. He didn't even own a tie. Or a suit, for that matter. No, he was wearing one of Techno’s old suits, from before he had properly filled out and had been nearly the same stature as Tommy, tall and thin.
Tommy, in typical Tommy fashion, had argued that statement, saying that he was the biggest man and he was not thin or small and was, in fact, the strongest person in the world.
Techno had challenged him to an arm wrestle.
Tommy had changed the subject.
“I’m very confused on what’s happening here.”
Wilbur looked at him, “Seance.”
“What.”
“Seance.”
“... Why?”
Wilbur shrugged, “S’fun, isn’t it?”
“Not… really? Don’t you need a ruin type to do that?”
“Ruin type,” Techno raised a hand.
“What the hell.”
Niki laughed, “They’re joking. Well, Tech is a ruin type, but not the right power for a seance.”
Techno frowned, “I could if I tried.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“Doesn't feel like it.”
“No, I do believe in you, Techno, it's just-”
“And there’s a but.”
“Fine, no ‘but’. I’m sure you could start a seance if you tried.”
Tommy stood up, rolling his eyes at the two.
If he was at a rich people house, he might as well look around, shouldn’t he? It was probably the first and last time he’d ever be in one legally.
The room they were in was big, unsurprisingly. The walls were a light blue, and had so many scuff marks that it surprised him.
He walked around, shrugging off Wilbur’s stare.
The furniture was mismatched, several bean bags with different patterns strewn all over the place, a battered chair sitting a few feet away from an equally battered desk, a-
A drawing on the wall half-covered by said battered desk.
Tommy walked closer, crouching to get a better look at it.
It was bad, to be put simply. Scratchy and barely holding form and probably made by a literal child, given the lack of form, but it held a nice feeling. And Tommy smiled, eyes tracing along 5 separate figures, likely meant to be people.
“Our, uh, our brother drew that, a long while back,” Wilbur said, causing Tommy to look at him.
“You have a brother?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Did,” Techno corrected, sinking into the couch, folding his arms against himself, “He’s been… gone for-” He frowned, sighing, “A long time now.”
Tommy frowned, “I’m sorry.”
Techno spoke, effectively cutting off Wilbur before he could start, “Not your fault. No reason to be.”
“Still. That sucks.”
“Yeah, well,” Techno shrugged.
Wilbur frowned, staring at his twin, “It’s been… a long time since it happened. We aren’t- we’re used to it, at this point.”
Tommy turned to the drawing, tilting his head. He knew what that was like. He also knew the pain and guilt that being used to it caused. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it and frowned, thinking over his words.
“Well,” Niki said, clapping, forcing a different emotion into the room, “That’s depressing. How about you give Tommy a tour of your lovely childhood home?”
Wilbur cleared his throat, “Yeah, sure, come on.”
The house was even bigger than Tommy had thought it to be, though Wilbur pointedly avoided taking him towards the front of the house, where the people were.
Tommy froze in one hall, where probably two dozen separate pictures hung from the walls.
The largest one was a photo of two people, a blond man and a black-haired woman.
Tommy tilted his head.
“That’s my parents. A year or so before they got married, I think. So, I had known my Dad for…” He shook his head, “Maybe two years? I was four.”
Tommy glanced at Wilbur, question on the tip of his tongue. He shook it off, thinking better of it.
Wilbur looked at him, “He’s not my biological father, you’re wondering. I’ve not even met my biological father. But he’s my Dad in every way that matters.”
Tommy shrugged, “... Makes sense.”
He looked back at the photo, staring at the woman, at Wilbur’s mother. He bit his cheek, stopping himself from frowning, from trying to think of why she looked so… good. So happy.
He forced his gaze away.
There was no sense in dwelling on the past.
There was no sense in trying to remember his family.
He was in the there and now, and there was no sense in trying to fix a piece of shattered glass.
He was in the there and now, and his family was gone, and he had to accept that.
His throat burned, “Hey, Wil, where’s a, uh, bathroom?”
----
Tommy pushed his hands through his hair, pulling lightly.
His could feel his heartbeat in his ears, the sensation burning in his fingertips as he pushed them against his arms.
His breath shook as he forced himself to take deep breaths.
It was fine. Everything was perfectly fine.
He sat down as his stomach churned, bile climbing up his throat.
The bathroom was way too small, even smaller than his room at the lab had been and the walls were closing in on him and the door was locked and he couldn’t get out and-
“Are you alright, Tommy?”
He wasn’t at the lab. The door was locked on his side.
“Yeah, I- fine.”
“... Right, well I- I’ll be back with Niki and Tech. They made a mess, need some help cleaning it up.”
“Yeah, alright,” Tommy said, hands pulling at the collar of his shirt.
He could hear the electricity buzzing in the lightbulbs, scratching a spot in his brain like pinching himself, grounding and unpleasant.
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his lips felt even more chapped than usual. His legs shook as he pushed himself up, hands shaking as he unlocked the bathroom door.
He realized his mistake the second he started down the hall. The bathroom, however suffocating, had been a sanctuary. The rest of the house was a maze, and he had no idea how to navigate it.
But he needed fresh air.
And so he pushed himself forward, using the idle chatter of rich old people as a guide towards the door.
Nobody spared him a glance as he walked by, though he felt as though a million people were staring at him, watching for even the slightest misstep to make fun of.
He couldn’t breathe.
He pushed past the old man from before, hardly noticing as he said something.
The door was already open when he got to it, several people entering.
At any other time, he would’ve been amused by the hatred poorly hidden by gratitude and amusement, but it simply sent him into a frenzy.
He smacked his elbow on the corner of the door as he exited, ignoring the spike of pain and near-running to the garden.
Everything was still too loud, and Tommy knelt onto the grass, pulling up handfuls of grass to stop himself from pulling his hair out.
It was too much.
Why had he agreed to go to a party?
It was idiotic, he didn’t fit in. He was nothing compared to them.
Cold wind ruffled through his hair, pressed against his face, furthering the redness in it.
The cold was welcoming, though, and he let his head fall backwards, let the wind take him. His wings begged for release, wanting the embrace that wind always brought. Wanting that sense of belonging to- something.
Tommy sighed through his teeth, music and talking still too loud in his ears.
He just needed a minute to cool down.
He’d be fine.
Fine enough, at least.
He pushed himself to his feet, brushing stray pieces of grass off his knees and turning to walk further into the garden that wrapped around the entire house, an ungodly size for a garden.
His throat burned, but he wouldn’t go back inside, no matter how much he wanted water.
“Hey, mate.”
Tommy’s startled, head shooting up (back arching to make up for how his wings would instinctually ruffle) to find whoever had spoken and-
There was a man in a tree.
There was a man in the tree in front of him, sitting on one of the branches as though the tree wouldn’t likely ruin his suit. Did all rich people do that?
“Uh- hi?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before.”
“I haven’t come to one of these before,” Tommy said, heartbeat speeding up because oh my god he was going to get in trouble, wasn’t he?
The man hummed, “You’re Tommy, then?”
He froze, brain screaming to run, body frozen in fear, “How do you-”
“Right, sorry. Wilbur told me he invited a friend named Tommy, blond hair, about the same height as Techno. I just- assumed. M’name’s Phil. Phil Soot.”
Tommy swallowed hard, hair on the back of his neck still raised in alarm, “Tommy Innit.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah. Same.”
He looked different than he did in the picture hanging in the hall.
He looked different than any of the pictures of him that came up when you searched his name.
That wasn’t quite true, but there was something different to the way he looked. Something off.
Phil jumped down from the branch, brushing off his pants and straightening his suit jacket and tilting his head at Tommy, “Not many people come out into the garden.”
Blithe, carefree, dangerous.
Tommy shrugged, something in him screaming to run and he wasn’t sure why. He chalked it up to residual anxiety, “Needed some air. Kind of suffocating in there.”
Phil raised an eyebrow, “Yes, I agree. Though, I would’ve thought that they had already brought you to,” He waved a hand, “Whichever room is it they escape to during these.”
“They did. I just needed some fresh air.”
He hummed again, eyes scanning Tommy. Then, he smiled, something that felt so fake it made Tommy want to physically revolt, “Well, then, I suppose I should be going back in.”
He walked forward, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and-
Something prodded at his mind. Not the usual type like emotions pressing against poorly built defences, or thoughts stabbing him during bad days, but something different. Some one different.
He pushed against it, latching onto the connection that the other had built, flooding them with their own emotions, curiosity and disappointment and something .
They broke the connection.
Phil stepped past Tommy, walking a few steps before turning slightly, “Hey, when you see Wilbur next, could you tell him I need to talk to him?”
Tommy swallowed before nodding, “Yeah, sure.”
He watched the man walk away, back tense, legs itching to run because-
Phil Soot had a power.
Phil Soot had just used that power on Tommy.
Phil Soot had just used his power on Tommy and he was a mental type and no one knew.
And that did nothing to help Tommy’s already spiked anxiety.
Notes:
so. it's my idea that because piglins evolved in the nether, they're cold blooded. they have no need to produce their own heat seeing as they exist in an already hot environment, so shouldn't their body account for cooling by being cold blooded? it just doesn't make sense to me for a burning hot environment that evaporates water instantly to create warm blooded creatures.
and also baby tommy drawing on the walls? yes please.
Chapter 8: And I Will Not Be Part Of Your Designs
Summary:
He stared at the sunset with such wonder and joy and finality that it warmed Phil as it once had Tommy.
And then Tommy was running forward, jumping to reach a fire escape ladder and running up the stairs and staring at the sunset that he could see better.
He held his arms out to the side, dropped his head back and just- felt. Felt the air that blew past him, the warmth of the sun, the hum of electricity, the buzz of people. And most of all, satisfaction.
And so Philza didn’t know what to think of Tommy.
Notes:
taking three weeks to update? me? pft, never (sorry about that, i have really bad classes right now and my brain just fucking can't with writing).
anyways, this is the longest chapter I've written so far
TW// mentioned/implied (child but also in general) abuse, reference human experimentation, dehumanization, minor character death (not very graphic), themes of gaslighting and manipulation, suicidal ideations (?), blood and injury
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Philza didn’t know what to think of Tommy.
He wasn’t expecting much when he used his power on his sons’ friend.
An old memory, maybe.
An old friend, or something he had done that he was proud of.
He wasn’t expecting the muddled mess of… things that he had seen.
Everyone’s brain was different, he knew, they all felt different and they all looked different, but there was something about the way Tommy’s mind had reacted to his presence that he couldn’t stop replaying.
It was like it had felt him. Had expected him to do something, and had reacted, pushing vibrant emotions and memories backwards, out of his reach, allowing him access to muddled memories, old and yet not at all. Tommy’s mind had reacted by giving Philza access to the bad things in his life, and Philza couldn’t understand why it had done that.
Most of the brains he touched didn’t react, and he had to sift through them like a library, looking for what he needed, and the ones that did react were different. The ones that did react gave Philza access to colourful things, positive and strong and clear things.
Tommy’s brain had seemed to almost protect those things from Phil, and it left him wondering, what had trained it to do so? What had happened to the teenager that it cowered at the touch of a mind type?
Philza’s mind recoiled almost completely as a particularly harsh memory was shoved at him.
He grabbed it before it disappeared back into the flurry, watching as muddled greys became less because of distortion to the memory (though there was some, almost as though a telepath had tried to tear it apart and had failed miserably) and more due to the colour of the room Tommy was in. The only tinge of colour other than greys and whites was red dotting along the floor. The camera turned (Tommy, it was Tommy turning) and then he was staring at what appeared to be a creeper hybrid, green scales decorating his arms, eyes a sickening black, the same colour as the gas mask he adorned.
The memory had no words, not yet, at least, but they were likely lost to time. Philza’s only clue that there had once been something spoken between the two was the constant fluctuation in emotion that he could feel, so fast he was hardly able to keep track.
And then the creeper hybrid was moving forward, brushing a cloth against Tommy’s face, coming away with red staining the white.
Something lurched in Phil’s stomach as the hybrid moved to Tommy’s hands.
A thousand scars were dotted on his arms, some literal dots, others precise lines, as though they had been carefully cut into him. As though someone had been trying to dissect him.
Phil’s eyes settled on a white bracelet around Tommy’s wrist.
Tommy hadn’t been looking at it, however, so Philza couldn’t read what it said.
“You leave tomorrow. You get out and don’t look back. Get as far away as you can.”
“But-”
The man closed his eyes, looking strikingly more human without the pure black irises, “No. Tomorrow.”
And then the man was leaving and the door was closing and everything was grey again. And there was some thick feeling spreading, not hatred, something less intense, but still similar.
Phil released the memory.
Something else prodded at him, not another memory, but someone feeling around.
He almost retreated at the acknowledgement, at the thought of being recognized, but stopped suddenly.
Tommy’s prodding had opened a path to the memories he hid.
And Philza couldn’t resist all the colours.
He dove forward, grabbing for the memories, growling in frustration as they pulled away from him.
Finally (though really only after half a second), he was able to grab one. Purple and yellow and pink and-
Tommy was staring at himself in the window of a skyscraper, one that Phil recognized but could not name. He was drawing his hands along his face, tracing his cheekbones and jawbone and he pulled his lips back to look at his teeth and then he was laughing. Laughing in pure joy that struck Phil to the core.
Tommy planted his hands on his cheeks, and then pressed one against the glass, staring at where it made contact.
His gaze shifted to where the sunset was visible in the reflection, and then he turned.
He stared at the sunset with such wonder and joy and finality that it warmed Phil as it once had Tommy.
And then Tommy was running forward, jumping to reach a fire escape ladder (a jump that was probably higher than an average human could jump, but Phil knocked it up to distortion from time) and running up the stairs and staring at the sunset that he could see better.
He held his arms out to the side, dropped his head back and just- felt. Felt the air that blew past him, the warmth of the sun, the hum of electricity, the buzz of people. And most of all, satisfaction.
And so Philza didn’t know what to think of Tommy.
He wasn’t sure what to think of the boy that shared a name with his youngest son, shared an age, hair and even eyes. He wasn’t sure what to think of Wilbur’s connection with the boy, either.
Was it truly friendship, or was it his son trying to fill a void left by his brother?
Phil needed to talk to Wilbur.
And he needed to sort out the things he had seen.
But first, he needed to go back to handling his civilian life.
He forced a smile onto his face and walked back into his house.
----
Tommy wasn’t sure how he had ended up at the park he had slept at his first night away from the facility they kept him at.
It was stupid and he was panicking and he didn’t know why he was there but he couldn’t move and-
“Hello, Tommy from Nowhere! I was hoping that I would see you again. Have you grown more human parts? You seem bigger than when I last saw you.”
Tommy’s head snapped up, breathing going even shallower. He glanced around, trying to see if there was anyone other than the slime.
There wasn’t and he let out a breath in relief.
“Hello, Slime.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking, but I can’t seper- uh, I mean I’m one human with completely human parts that can’t separate and I can’t look everywhere.”
“You understand that I can’t tell you that.”
Slimecicle tilted his head, staring at Tommy like a lost puppy, “I don’t, actually.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh,” He sounded disappointed, but then rebounded, excitement back in his voice, “That’s alright! Quackity from Las Nevadas doesn’t tell me where he goes all the time, either. Purpled from Uefoh doesn’t tell me at all!”
Tommy winced at the comparison.
“A lot of people don’t tell me things, but it’s alright because Quackity from Las Nevadas shows me a lot of people and I get to watch them.”
“Really?” Tommy asked, slightly bemused, anxiety still fluttering in his chest, “Like who?”
“You!” Slimecicle said, and Tommy nearly fell off of the swing, “Well. Theseus. But Theseus is A-3 and A-3 is you.”
“How long- how long ago did Quackity tell you to watch me?”
Slimecicle shrugged, folding to the ground in a very un-human way, “Well, the first time I saw Theseus I was following Dr. Hansen. And then you killed Dr. Hansen. And then you were talking to Notos and then you fought heroes and then I went back home and told Purpled from Uefoh who told Quackity and then Quackity told me to keep watching Theseus.”
Tommy’s heart beat in his throat, “And have you been?”
“Yes. No. You’re very hard to find.”
“How much have you told Quackity about me? How much have you learned?”
“Not a lot,” Slime frowned, “But now that I’ve found you, I can just follow you around! And then tell Quackity!”
“No. No, Slimecicle, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Quackity doesn’t like me, Slime. If you tell him a lot about me, I’ll get in trouble,” He looked the slime hybrid in the eyes, “Do you want me to get in trouble?”
“No, but if I don’t tell Quackity anything then he’ll be really irritated. I don’t like it when Quackity from Las Nevadas is irritated.”
“Does- does he hurt you when he’s irritated, Charlie?”
“No,” He picked at the grass beneath him, “But he gets all shouty at Purpled from Uefoh and Awesamdude from The Badlands. Not at me. Never at me, he says. He always says he’s not mad at me when I don’t find anything. I like Quackity from Las Nevadas.”
“Never at you?” Tommy asked.
“Mhm.”
Something that Tommy had remembered from his time with Quackity was that the man despised weakness.
If you showed it in any way, shape or form, it had to be corrected.
The man didn’t give a shit if it meant burning your plushie or killing the love of your life.
Tommy’s mouth parted in surprise.
Quackity had a weakness.
He had known that Quackity had a soft spot for the hybrid, but- but Charlie being a weakness?
Now that was surprising.
Tommy felt sick at the want to return the favour of correcting weaknesses.
He pushed the thought from his brain, swallowing harshly.
He could use that. He could- he could definitely use the fact that Slimecicle was Quackity’s weakness to his advantage.
He just needed a plan first.
Purpled didn’t quite like Quackity’s weakness. He felt that the man that had burnt a hold in Quackity’s life was a menace.
If anyone was going to kill Quackity’s weakness, it would be Purpled.
Tommy paused in his tracks.
Purpled wouldn’t kill Charlie. Not without someone paying him better first. Not without the assurance that he would keep a steady pay.
But if Slimecicle were to, say, go missing, then everyone would immediately think that Purpled had something to do with it, wouldn’t they?
A plan began forming in Tommy’s mind.
----
“Hello,” Tommy said, turning to face the man climbing onto the roof.
“How the fuck?”
“Your emotions are loud.”
“That makes no sense, but okay.”
“You fucking broadcast your emotions.”
Zephyrus huffed a laugh, “Alright, Theseus.”
“Why are you here, Zephyrus?”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m scheming.”
“Alright, now the actual reason.”
“No, seriously. I’m scheming. Plotting. Planning. Thinking. Whatever word you would like me to use.”
“And what are you scheming?”
Tommy sucked his teeth, “Uh- well… I have a problem. Learnt something that could potentially help that problem. Now I’m trying to think of a way to solve the problem without just, like, murdering the thing I learned. Person I learned. Thing I learned of? Whatever.”
Zephyrus walked closer, “Ah, yes. That makes so much sense.”
“It wasn’t meant to. Bitch.” He added, after half a second.
“... Alright. You not going to tell me, then?”
“Ah. Quackity knows I’m still around. Knows that I’m Theseus. That Theseus is A-3,” Tommy laughed bitterly, “Doesn’t know what name I go by, but it wouldn’t be that fucking hard to find out. Not when- nevermind.”
Zephyrus sat down on the roof, “How can I help you with that?”
“Uh- sorry?”
“How can I help? You helped me. Favour for a favour. Eye for an eye, and all that.”
“I don’t-” Tommy stopped himself, “Just- the slime hybrid, the one I told you about, Charlie? He, uh, found me in a park earlier. I said that Quackity had a soft spot for him, I told you that, but- but Charlie’s a fucking weakness for Quackity? And you have no fucking clue how funny and how rage-inducing that is for me. Because it’s both ironic and hypocritical.”
“And?” Zephyrus prompted.
“If Charlie were to go missing, everyone’s first thought would be that it was Purpled. Charlie is extremely trusting by nature. Easy to lie to. Easy to convince of things. I- have a plan. Kind of.”
“That’s not very convincing,” He said, picking up a stone and rolling it around in the palm of his hand.
“Yeah, well. Said kind of. And never said it was a good one. In fact, it’s fucking idiotic and might end with me dead. But, hey, don’t know if you don’t try, huh?”
“That’s a bad philosophy.”
“Live life like you’re gonna die.”
“Also bad. Live as if you’ll live forever.”
“And what? Procrastinate?”
Zephyrus snorted.
“No, but,” He shrugged, “I thought I’d be dead before I turned 10. And then 12. And then 13. 15. 16. And I keep thinking- today’s the day. I’m gonna get found and they’re gonna kill me. So yeah, live life like you’re gonna die. Fuck the consequences.”
The villain simply hummed, tilting his head at Tommy. He opened his mouth, and then paused, “Did they ever kill any avians when you were there?” He asked, finally.
“No. Just were fucking bitches to us. You ever had your bone broken just to see how it healed? That was always really shitty.”
“They-”
“Like, less dense bones and all. Not hollow, though I’m sure you know that. They would just kinda-” Tommy held his hands up, curled into fists right beside each other, and then twisted them 90 degrees, clicking his tongue.
Zephyrus didn’t say anything.
“Sorry, is that kinda- trauma dump-y? Sorry.”
“How the fuck do you say that shit so casually?”
“It’s my life, innit? It happened. Nothing’s gonna change that. If I don’t laugh, I’m gonna cry.”
“Hm. Yeah, that- that’s fair,” Zephyrus said, dropping the stone from one hand to another, “What’s your plan? For Las Nevadas.”
“I don’t-” Tommy frowned, “I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking that I’m just an idiot. I mean, I am, but I can’t just- I have an opportunity. Charlie likes me. Quackity likes Charlie. Quackity will protect Charlie. So, if Quackity thinks that Charlie’s in danger…”
“He’ll come to make sure he’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
“And that gives the opportunity to kill him. Or, just do something to him.”
“Mhm.”
“And then what about the rest of the ones you told us about?”
Tommy sighed, “Foolish and Sam aren’t dangerous in that sense. They wouldn’t do anything to me. Like, they’re dangerous. Highly trained, highly effective, but they have some morals? I guess? I think, at least. I don’t know. Uh, for Purpled, it depends on how much Quackity’s paying him and how nice Quackity’s been to him. He’d bring Purpled along to make sure Charlie’s okay. I’m not- I’m not sure what Fundy would do, honestly. You know, he’s the one who kidnapped me. He apologized to my mum. Said he had no choice. But then he killed her,” He sniffed, tilting his head up, “I don’t know. Maybe he’d kill me for hurting Quackity. Maybe he wouldn’t.”
“... About Fundy, what exactly-” He scoffed, shaking his head, “What’d he look like?”
“I don’t know. He’s a ginger. Had some white in his hair. Not sure if that was dyed or not. Tall. Thin. Good runner. Not so good with weights. Why, you know him or something?”
“Or something.”
“... What?”
“I think- mm, I think that-” He sighed, voice strengthening as he spoke again, “I don’t know. There’s a lot of things that I don’t know, and I’m really fucking hoping that he’s not who I’m thinking he is, but- but I think he might be. And that means that-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, “Nevermind. Just- nevermind.”
“No, I do mind. Please continue. How the fuck do you think you know a member of Las Nevadas?”
“It’s- complicated. And I would never explain it here. ”
Tommy clenched his jaw, “You can’t just say shit like that, Zephyrus.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t fucking know. Telling me that you think you know one of the ringleaders of the group that tore my fucking life to shreds. I had a family, Zephyrus. I don’t remember my brothers’ names. You can’t just-” Tommy gripped the side of the roof, hands turning white with pressure, “You’re acting so fucking casual about it. You’re not, obviously, I can feel that fucking shitstorm of emotions that you’re feeling, but the way you say things, it’s-”
“I’m sorry.”
Tommy’s mouth shut with a click.
“I’m sorry, you’re right, that was-” He shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
Tommy huffed.
They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds.
“If you need help…”
“I know you want me to say yes, but I can’t. I… This is something, I feel, must be done by me. And then- and then you can crush the entire thing under your heel.”
“Is it that you’re trying to be a hero?”
“God, no.”
“Is that true?”
“No hero ever saved me, Zephyrus. That’s the thing. They- everyone says they’re held back by their restrictions, by the law, but if they truly fucking cared, they wouldn’t give a shit about what laws they have to break to save people. My wanting to tear it down is entirely selfish. I’ve been well acquainted with that fact for years. I’m no fucking hero.”
“Alright, then. You’re not a hero. You’ll never be a hero,” He paused, thinking, “Notos’ shadows like hanging around the old fire station near the docks. If you need help, you can- just find one. Tell them what’s happened. They’ll tell us.”
“The old fire station that burnt down?”
“Yes.”
“Near the docks?”
“Yep.”
“I always forget how ironic that fire was.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
“... I know you want your revenge for whoever they took from you, but… I need him to be scared of me. I need him to finally fucking understand, to the slightest extent, what he put me through. And I need to see the look on his face.”
“That’s fair.”
“You understand, then?”
“Yes. I don’t like the idea of me not being the one to kill him, but I can understand why you need it more than I do.”
“Alright. Alright, cool. I have- planning to do, then.”
“You will plan it out, right? You’re not just gonna… wing it?”
Tommy winced at the pun, “I’ll be fine.”
----
Spoiler alert: he would not be fine.
He would be the exact opposite of fine, in fact.
He had made a plan with Tubbo. A plan that had seemed fool-proof, in fact. There was absolutely nothing they could think of that could fuck it up.
He had expected Quackity and Purpled and maybe a few people in lower positions.
Not every single fucking person at the top.
Tommy bit his tongue from where he was perched on a beam, suppressing the urge to yell out in frustration.
One of Notos’ shadows tilted its head at him.
He stuck his tongue out at it.
And then apologized, because it hadn’t deserved that.
“Charlie!” Quackity called out, and the man’s voice caused a wave of panic to rise in Tommy’s chest, “Charlie, where are you?”
“Quackity from Las Nevadas! Hello! I’ve been exploring!”
“I can see that. Who were you exploring with?”
“Theseus!”
Tommy winced.
“Is that so? Is he still around?”
Charlie frowned, “I don’t know. He told me to stay here and that he’d be back in 5 minutes. But that was a half-hour ago.”
“Alright, well, how about you go back to the car with Foolish? We’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“Okay, Quackity from Las Nevadas,” Charlie nodded, all but skipping out of the building.
Tommy watched as Quackity looked at each of the people he had brought, pointing at them and then in a general direction.
“I know you’re here, A-3. If you just come to us, you can come home.”
Tommy took a shaky breath, hands tightening on the beam, watching as Awesamdude walked closer to him, though he was still above them.
A single shadow walked behind the rest of the group, creating a clicking sound and then disappearing into the nearest darkness.
They all turned, weapons pointing at nothing.
“Come on, A-3! I don’t have all night. You can come now willingly, or we’ll take you by force!”
Several shadows circled around the group, always disappearing before they were properly seen.
They were fucking toying with Las Nevadas, and in any other situation, where Tommy was less anxious, he would find it fucking hilarious.
Tommy’s foot slid, eliciting a small squeak from him.
Sam froze from where he was standing under Tommy.
Tommy bit his tongue, praying that Sam wouldn’t look up.
He didn’t.
“Come on, A-3!” Quackity was mad, “Listen, I can ignore the fact that you killed Hansen so long as you come out right fucking now. Any longer and I will take precautions to make sure you can never harm any one of my staff ever again.”
Fundy’s footsteps were near silent from where he padded along the wall, coming closer to Awesamdude.
Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat.
It was a horribly, awfully and absolutely shit idea. And to be alone on top of that?
He was going to die.
They were going to find him and he was going to die.
“Theseus!” Quackity yelled, voice on the verge of biting.
Tommy looked at the shadow that was still sitting beside him, “Get Zephyrus. Go get- go tell them I need help. Please.”
It tilted its head at him, and then nodded.
He shivered as it jumped into the wall, disappearing into swirling darkness.
Tommy pulled himself into a half-crouching, half-standing position, walking further along the beam, closer to the side of the building, closer to the large, forever-open windows.
“Oh, Theseus, you do know you can’t hide from me, right? I will always find you. I will always bring you back home.”
And then Tommy was pushed off of the beam.
He twisted his ankle as he landed, biting back a yelp at the pain that shot up his leg, at the sound of his ankle popping.
He spun. Sam was behind him, Purpled and Quackity in front of him.
But no Fundy.
He looked up, and surely enough, the man was sitting on the beam, an off-putting smile on his face.
“Hello, A-3. You’ve sure grown.”
“Piss off.”
Quackity clicked his tongue, “Now, now, that’s not very nice.”
Tommy’s mouth snapped shut.
He stepped backwards, putting all his weight on his right ankle.
He glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who hadn’t moved minus his staring at Tommy.
A shadow jumped out from a dark corner, followed by several others.
The first ran to Tommy, slowing as it got closer, sniffing at his injured ankle and then baring its teeth at Sam.
The rest walked closer to the rest of the group that Quackity had brought, crouched close to the floor as though they would pounce at any second.
Quackity let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff.
There was a hissing sound from behind him, and Tommy glanced at Sam to see smoke billowing from his gas mask, the man’s weight on his back foot as he stepped back, matching the shadow step for step.
Fundy remained on the beam for a few more seconds, and then jumped off, rolling as he landed. He was followed by a blue-eyed shadow.
“You have fucking Notos’ shadows?” He laughed, sharp and fast, “Of fucking course you do. Jesus christ, no, no, no. This was not how this was supposed to play out, you were supposed to-”
“What? Come with you? You’re fucking delusional.”
“I am not-” Quackity snapped, and then stopped, taking a deep breath, “I broke into the house of Philza Minecraft to get to you. I’m ambitious, A-3.”
Tommy’s jaw clenched, “Stop fucking calling me that.”
“Alright. How about… Icarus? Yes, I think that’ll do nicely.”
Tommy bristled at the comparison, “Go fuck yourself, Quackity.”
The man shrugged, and then looked over Tommy’s shoulder at Sam.
The creeper hybrid was nearly backed up against the wall, hand on his sword with a white-knuckle grip, but not daring to unsheath it.
“Why’d you kill Hansen, Icarus?”
Tommy clenched his teeth, breathing out harshly, “Didn’t want him alive.”
“Fair,” Purpled said from where two shadows, larger than the rest, circled him.
Quackity shot a look at his second, “ How is that fair? ”
Purpled shrugged, stepping forward slightly, and then moving back as a shadow snapped at him.
Quackity pinched the bridge of his nose, “Come on, kid. Just call off your dogs. You come with us and we forget this ever happened.”
“Not my dogs, and I’d never believe you on that.”
Quackity groaned, muttering a few words under his breath, “Listen, you’ve found big brother, I understand that you want to-”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
The man froze, and then tilted his head at Tommy, “You didn’t know. Oh, wow, that’s- that’s something. You heard me, Icarus. Now, just come with me and-”
“No, you don’t just fucking- fucking say that shit and then- you’re a sick man, Quackity, playing with people’s emotions like that. You don’t get to- to play with my mind anymore. You’re no fucking mind type. You’re a fucking powerless.”
“Oh, come on, kid. What use do I have lying to you about that? It's like placing a loaded gun in your hand.”
“Yeah, fucking exactly,” Tommy stepped forward, limping, shoulders squared, “You’ve always been a liar, Big Q. Now tell me something, what would you do if I took away something precious to you? I’ll fucking do it.”
The man raised an eyebrow, and then waved a hand, “You don’t have the guts and I don’t have any weaknesses.”
“Did you or did you not just bring your entire upper staff to find Charlie? I call bullshit.”
Quackity’s glare was scathing, and his anger boiled in Tommy’s veins, but Tommy already had anger of his own, and the additive did nothing but fuel him more.
“Now, now, A-3, don’t make a threat you can’t follow through.”
“I didn’t make a threat. I asked a question.”
Quackity scoffed, “Listen-”
“Getting impatient, are you? Come on, the party hasn’t even started yet.”
“... Who the fuck is coming?”
Tommy raised an eyebrow, obscured by his mask, and then shrugged a shoulder, waving a hand at the shadows in the building, “Hazard a fucking guess.”
“Getting big brother to fight your battles, now are you?”
“Shut up, Quackity. You stop fucking- just stop.”
“I’ll have you know, I find it hilarious that you don’t believe me. Or maybe you just don’t want to think of what Notos being your older brother means. Charlie mentioned he almost killed you once?”
Tommy took a sharp breath, mind reaching out and-
He stopped himself.
He didn’t want to know whether or not Quackity was lying.
“But, I’m sure that Notos already knows who you are. After all, he’s not a Minecraft for no reason.”
Tommy screwed his eyes shut, attempting to block out the mocking that radiated from Quackity. He reached backwards, feeling for Sam. Feeling for the one mind in the room that he had familiarized himself with, at one point or another.
All Sam felt was fear and there was something else-
Someone else.
Tommy’s eyes snapped open. His shoulders relaxed. He took a breath.
“Aw, are you scared?”
“And if I was? I’m not alone here, Big Q, not anymore at least. Look around, you’re surrounded by what? A dozen, give or take, shadows? You know who those belong to.”
“Now you’re bluffing.”
“You’re really gonna stake your life on that?”
Quackity laughed once. Twice. He froze, “You’re not joking.”
“I’m really not.”
He scowled, “Well, then. Is he going to come out?”
“His choice. I mean, if I were him, I’d be avoiding talking to you, as well. But,” Tommy shrugged, one hand tapping his thigh while the other wrapped around the handle of the sword strapped to his side.
Quackity stepped forward, “Let’s stop playing around, then.”
“Gladly.”
“You come with us, or that friend of yours, the one that works with Sam, ends up dead. Your choice, Icarus.”
Tommy clenched his jaw, “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”
“No? What’s his name? It starts with a ‘t’,” Quackity snapped his fingers a few times before-
“Fuck off. You don’t know shit.”
“No? Trust me, Thomas, I know a lot.”
Tommy straightened, “Don’t you fucking call me that.”
“No? I thought it was your name?”
“You stole everything from me, you don’t get to- to call me that .”
“Oh, what are you gonna do about it?”
“Quackity, I don’t think you should piss off the person protected by Notos’ shadows,” Sam advised a hand held out placatingly toward the shadow standing in front of him.
“He doesn’t have the guts to do anything. Focus on yourself and who you need to protect.”
“ I don’t have the guts? Quackity, you better fucking watch yourself.”
“I know you, Icarus, I raised you.”
“You stole me!”
Quackity scoffed, “Tell me, do you even remember your brothers’ names?”
Tommy bit his tongue, and then, “Do you remember your fiancés’?”
“Watch yourself,” Quackity snapped, names and fluttering memories of faces and voices rising to the top of his brain, allowing Tommy to snatch them away, cradling them close as he looked for something he could use.
“Don’t act like you’re in charge here.”
Quackity sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Icarus, come on. You’ve had your freedom, but it’s time to come home. I just want what’s best for you.”
“You want to experiment on me.”
“No, I- Icarus, I want you to come home. This world is dangerous. I can protect you.”
“ You are the danger, Quackity. I’m not about to fucking stand here for you to try to brainwash me. You don’t have any mental types. I could make you live through your greatest fear.”
“You’re not that powerful. And you’re also not that ability.”
“No,” He cocked his head, “And you know the intricacies of my ability? You, a powerless? A full human? Don’t push me.”
“You’re an empath, dear. You’re threatening something that’s not in your lane.”
A shadow stepped a foot closer to Quackity.
The one by Tommy pressed against his legs.
“Emotions are easy, I’ll admit. You know what’s also easy, Quackity?” Tommy moved his cloak, revealing a sheathed sword at his side.
It shone with purple enchantments as he unsheathed it. It didn’t look that special, but-
“How the fuck did you get that?”
“What, this? Why do you care?”
“Did you hurt him?” Quackity enunciated each word, hands clenching and unclenching.
“Oh, I’m sorry, he was your fiancé, wasn’t he?” Tommy clicked his tongue, diving into the thoughts brought to the surface, stumbling a few steps closer to the wall, to where he had felt Notos, “You made this? I’ll admit, it’s a nice piece of work. And as a parting gift. My, oh, my, he leaves you and you still give him a present. That’s pathetic , Quackity.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I could know everything about you if I so wished.”
He stared at Quackity, pulling his mind back as the intensity of the man’s emotions increased tenfold, pounding against Tommy’s brain.
Quackity rubbed his temples, “Why don’t we come to an agreement? You drop the sword and get your dogs to stand down, and I don’t kill you where you stand.”
“How about this, you stop running your fucking mouth, dismantle your little club, and the dogs don’t kill you where you stand?”
“Now, now, Icarus.”
“Why are you acting like a fucking gaslighting mother? It’s fucking weird. Unpog.”
“Listen here, Icarus-”
“Are you gonna tell me a bedtime story, Momma Q? You’ve never told me one of those before.”
“... Now you’re just stalling. So, again, calling your bluff on big brother being here.”
“Alright, stop fucking calling him that. You know nothing. Second of all, he’s skulking in the shadows,” Tommy laughed lightly, “Like a vampire.”
“... I resent that.” Came Notos’ voice, still wrapped in shadows.
“There he is. I am many things, Quackity, but I am not a liar… Well, I am a liar, but not often about shit like that. Though, I could understand why you , of all people, might think that everyone else is one.”
Quackity’s jaw clenched, shoulders tensing with it.
Tommy stared at him for a few seconds, and then turned, watching each of the rest of the people Quackity had brought for a few seconds, before sheathing Sapnap’s sword.
“This is really awkward now, um, I think I’m just gonna like-” Tommy shrugged, “Notos, can your shadows just, like, kill him? That’d make this less awkward.”
“They could,” Notos said, walking out of the wall nearest Tommy, shadows dripping from him, “But they don’t want to, so, that kinda sucks.”
“I’m sorry, what? Are they not like, fucking attack dogs?”
“Some of them, yeah,” He stopped next to Tommy, a hand resting on his sword handle. He whistled once, and several more shadows crawled out of where he had come from, “The others are more… let’s say excitable. Though, I wouldn’t say killing Quackity is an honour I’d bestow upon them.”
“No?” Tommy asked, limping closer to Notos’ side.
“Nah. I’d say that kill belongs to someone he hurt. Normal circumstances, I’d take it.”
“But?”
Notos glanced at Tommy, “He’s only hurt me by extension.”
Quackity laughed, “Wonderful. Wonderful, you’re reunited, now are you gonna kill me, or are you gonna chicken out, little Icarus?”
“Oh, I’d love to kill you. I’d love to take the sword that you gifted your fiancé and plunge it through your heart. It'd be wonderful.”
“But you’re not going to, are you? Come on, darling, you have me cornered. There are a thousand ways to kill me, to kill any one of us. What are you gonna do?”
Tommy swallowed, swaying slightly as he put too much weight on his likely-sprained ankle. He closed his eyes tightly, hissing a breath at the lack of fear he felt from Quackity. There was nothing for Tommy to feel satisfaction over. He clenched a fist, hitting the side of his thigh a few times in frustration.
Notos stepped in front of him, voice low and drawling, “The thing is, Quackity, was it? The thing is, he does want to kill you. He will kill you. But in a burnt-down fire station? Please, you deserve something worse. Something more… painful.”
“I wasn't talking to you, Notos,” Quackity snapped.
“And I don’t care. Watch your tone.”
“Maybe you should stop goading on the people in control of this situation, Quackity,” Sam said from behind them, rolling his wrists out of anxiety.
“They’re hardly in control.”
Notos laughed.
Tommy followed his lead, laughing weakly.
“I just want-” Notos sighed, “Listen, Quackity, maybe- maybe , we could come to an agreement, you give me who I want and then- then I make sure your death isn’t drawn out as long as it could be.”
“That’s fucking likely, mini Minecraft.”
Tommy swallowed harshly, eyes flickering to Notos, looking for any sort of reaction to the name and-
Notos huffed, mumbling something too low for Tommy to catch. He pushed his shoulders back, “There you go again, acting like you know everything.”
“And you’re lying to little brother,” Quackity gasped after a second, pulling his hands up to cover his mouth like he was in shock, “Oops. Didn’t mean to say that .”
This time, Tommy saw Notos tense, and then his shoulders started shaking.
He laughed.
He laughed for a few seconds and then looked back at Tommy, “Can you believe him? He’s a chronic liar, isn’t he?”
“... Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
“Don’t weaponize the people I’ve lost. It won’t end well.”
“Or what, Notos? What will you do?”
Nothing happened for a second, and then the shadows circling Purpled lunged, one latching onto his leg and the other scratching across his chest.
Purpled screamed.
Tommy flinched.
Notos stayed still, “Don’t make me kill him.”
“Go right ahead. Save me my money.”
“You fucking-” Purpled groaned, hand pressing against his chest as his sweater quickly became soaked with red, “ God , I should have taken that deal.”
“Shush now, Purpled.”
Fundy took a few steps towards the blond, keeping a good distance from Quackity.
He paused as a shadow jumped in his path.
“Let me help him.”
Notos tilted his head at Fundy, and then looked back at Tommy, and then back at Fundy, “Take another step and I’ll end you myself.”
Tommy flinched at the underlying rage, more than when Notos had been speaking to Quackity.
“You don’t care much about your employees, do you?” Notos asked after a few seconds.
“They get paid for their usefulness.”
“Do they?”
“They’re not human. They get paid as they do.”
Tommy bit back a chirp in distress.
Notos let out a low growl, a warning, different from playful ones Tommy had grown used to from Techno.
Quackity smiled, all white teeth and placating gestures and-
The building shook.
Tommy fell into Notos, the ground becoming unstable beneath his feet.
The man placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, helping to stabilize him, even as the ground continued to shake.
“What the hell is this?”
“Foolish,” Tommy breathed out, “We need to leave- we need to-”
“You’re not going anywhere, A-3.”
Tommy’s breath quickened, mind reaching out un-willingly for comfort, but found only fear and disgust and distaste.
A piece of wood fell to the floor, a dozen feet away from them.
The ground cracked around Notos and Tommy, forming a lopsided circle.
Notos pulled Tommy to the side, falling onto solid (for the moment, at least) ground, as the floor they had previously been standing on sunk into itself.
One of Notos’ shadows bit Tommy’s arm lightly, trying to pull him up.
“Well now, it doesn’t look like you’re in control so much anymore, does it?”
Notos growled, and a shadow sunk its teeth into Purpled’s neck.
“Oh,” Quackity said as Purpled choked on his own blood, making a sickening (and a tad satisfying, though Tommy pushed that emotion down) sound, “That’s a shame. Oh, well, one less person I have to pay.”
“Are you really that heartless?”
Quackity shrugged.
Tommy pushed himself up, attempting to keep his weight off of his one foot.
Notos grabbed one of Tommy’s arms, stabilizing him.
Tommy’s ear twitched as Sam moved quickly, feet scraping against the floor.
He turned as a part of the ceiling fell exactly where Sam had been, the man himself on the floor about 5 feet away.
“The whole building’s gonna come down,” Tommy said, the realization washing over him like a wave of cold water, “We need to get out.”
Quackity laughed, “Do you think I’m stupid enough to not have some sort of back-up, Icarus? Either you come back with us, or you both die here.”
Tommy clenched his jaw, “Do you trust Foolish enough to keep you safe as he brings this place down?”
“It’s not a matter of trust.”
“Isn’t it? I’ve only seen some of the shit you’ve said to him, done to him, what’s stopping him from killing you here and now?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
Siblings , Tommy read, anyway, lovers.
“I’m sure.”
The ground shook again, and Tommy bit back a yell as he stepped backwards onto his injured foot, falling to his knees to get the weight off of it.
Notos smacked a piece of falling debris away from its path towards Tommy’s head.
Quackity smiled.
Sam sneaked closer to a gap forming in the wall.
Purpled lied still on the ground, blood pooled around him.
Fundy’s arm twitched by his side, orange light pulsing around his fingers.
The concrete cracked again, splitting the ground between Quackity and Fundy, between Purpled and Tommy.
Fundy’s arm raised, and Tommy went to say something and-
He yelled as the floor underneath him dropped.
Notos grabbed his wrist and held him, staring down into the darkness of the newly formed hole.
Fundy pressed his hand against a beam and threw a ball of orange light up, and the world was lit up for half a second and then Notos was pulling Tommy out of the hole, and sheltering him from-
The ceiling caved in.
Notes:
"tell tommy that i hope he finds what he's looking for, whatever that is." PLEASE I SOBBED IM A FUCKING SUCKER FOR BEDROCK DUO AND I ACTUALLY REALLY NEEDED THAT BUT IT MADE ME CRY NONETHELESS
Chapter 9: You Have Taught Me Well To Sit And Wait
Summary:
“I… have no plans on killing you.”
“Thanks for the reassurance, big man, but you don’t sound too sure of yourself.”
“I won’t,” Notos said, with more finality, “Zeph likes you, for whatever reason. If I were to hurt you again, he’d throw a hissy fit.”
“You don’t like me, then?”
“I have no concrete view of your character yet,” Notos said, waves of lie-lie-lie washing over Tommy’s mind, “So, I don’t know.”
“Wonderful,” Tommy said, anyway, “Thanks for the comfort.”
Notes:
just realized i unintentionally made tommy's initials in this T.O.M. oops.
TW// blood and injury, references to past abuse, suicidal ideationsanyways, i have a math test tomorrow (which i should be studying for, i have not yet) and a science presentation as well (this is now just going to be me ranting about that, so you can skip past this). my science thing is a group project that was given to us on Friday at the very end of class. nobody (including me) in my group did anything. we were given all of today's class to work on it, and i was doing that. my group wasn't. i gave them the benefit of the doubt and gave them a couple hours after school to work on it. they didn't. at this point, i was really frustrated and angry (with them, but also myself, because i knew that something like this was going to happen and i still said yes) so i told them that if they didn't do anything i would take their names off and hand it in myself. they've since done some of it. my work is still over half of the thing though, which, in a group of three, shouldn't happen. I'm really glad that i stood up for myself and my work, but now I'm just so exhausted so I'm sorry if this isn't very well edited. also, i feel like i should tell our teacher bc it's really unfair to me to let them piggyback off of everything i did, but she's also letting us do a peer evaluation, so i don't know. should i? I'm honestly just so exhausted from that, i hate confrontation.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Golden child, lion boy;
Tell me what it’s like to conquer.
----
“Mum! Tommy’s singing to the plants again!”
“It helps them grow!” Tommy had said, arms crossed over his chest as he stomped a foot, “You’re just a poopy-pants and can’t underst- under- un- know that!”
“Tommy, that’s not a nice thing to call your brother.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not very nice.”
“Tommy,” His mother had repeated.
“I’m sorry I called you a poopy-pants.”
His mother turned to look at Tommy’s brother, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry I called your dumb plant thing stupid.”
“You just called it dumb again!”
“‘Cause it is!”
“Nuh-uh! You’re dumb!”
“Boys! That’s enough. Let’s cool down, alright?” She looked at the older, “Singing to the plants is clearly important to Tommy, why do you feel the need to call it dumb?”
“Because- because they’re plants and- and they don’t need to be sung to.”
“Alright. The real reason now, please.”
“... He won’t teach me the song.”
His mother smiled at the elder, and then turned to Tommy, “Just because someone says something mean, doesn’t mean you have to respond the same way.”
“But he keeps calling it dumb, Mummy!”
“Yes, and that’s not very nice of him. But it’s also not nice of you to respond by calling him dumb.”
Tommy huffed, “Fine. But he has to stop calling my song dumb, first.”
His mother had smiled, “I think that can be done. What song do you sing to the plants, Toms?”
“Halle- Hallelu- Hal- I don’t know how to say it.”
“Hallelujah?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Where’d you learn Hallelujah from, bud?”
“Dad likes playing it.”
“Well, there you go,” She looked at Tommy’s brother, “Now you know what song he’s singing.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know it.”
“I’m sure if you ask your father, he’ll teach it to you.”
Tommy’s brother huffed.
----
Fearless child, broken boy;
Tell me what it’s like to burn.
----
“Fundy?” Kristin’s voice broke, “Fundy, what are you doing?”
“I- I have to do this, Aunt Kristin. I have no choice. I have to do this.”
“Put Tommy down, Fundy, let’s talk about this.”
Tommy squirmed in Fundy’s hold, face contorting behind the man’s hand.
“I can’t- stop moving, Tommy, ” He hissed, leaning closer to the kid.
Tommy stopped, and then bit down on Fundy’s hand. Hard.
“Ow- you little shit-” Fundy yanked his arms away from Tommy, cradling his now-bleeding hand close to his chest.
Tommy took the opportunity to run, hiding behind his mother’s legs.
“Fundy, if I were you, I’d leave right now.”
“You don’t understand-”
“What I understand is that you broke into my house and were holding my son like you were about to kidnap him. Get out . You’re lucky that Phil isn’t home,” Light grey tendrils circled her hands, held out in front of her, away from her son but not quite pointed at her nephew.
Fundy froze, wincing, “You shouldn’t have said that. I tried- I tried to do this the easy way, Aunt Kristin, I really did, and I convinced them to let me try, but- but now they’re gonna-”
The door opened, and Kristin was raising her hands towards it, grey tendrils of poisonous gases dancing between her fingers, begging to be released from her grip.
----
Tommy’s throat burned.
He coughed and red stained his hand. He wasn’t sure if it had already been there or not.
There was something lying across his leg.
It wasn’t necessarily heavy, but it was long and digging into his leg, pinning him to the ground, and he didn’t have the strength to lift it off.
Smoke burned his mouth as he tried to breathe, fires burning around him, far but close and-
Oh god, he was going to die, wasn’t he?
He laughed at the thought, something dark and bitter.
He was going to die in a burnt-down, broken-down fire station.
He was never going to find his family.
He was-
He was never going to-
Tommy choked on a sob, coughing and gasping for air as tears ran down his face.
He didn’t want to die.
He wanted- he wanted to see his family again.
He wanted his Mum.
No. No, he didn’t. But he did.
He did but he didn’t.
He didn’t want to die, but he wanted one of her hugs more than anything.
He wanted to go home , as childish as that might be.
He wanted his brothers, his Dad.
He wanted that stupid bear that Wilbur had gotten him.
He just- wanted more than the world had allowed him.
He had never been religious, not really, and maybe he believed that there was some higher power, but maybe he just didn’t want to think that something all-powerful hated him.
Maybe he just wanted to think that something loved him for all he was for once. For every flaw and imperfection, every crushed hope and dream, maybe he just wanted something to go his way for once.
But no. No, the world had it out for him.
It had stolen him from his family. It had experimented on him.
And he hated the fact that the only self-soothing that worked was singing a song that he only half-remembered the words to.
He choked, coughing against smoke and dust, sobbing against life and living. He caught his breath, chest heaving, leg burning, lips chapped.
He shook with a sob.
Rubbled shifted next to him, and Tommy pushed against the beam harder, trying to get away , tears blurring his vision as he panicked.
A man pushed several pieces away from the pile, the tumbling to the ground startling Tommy.
Tommy pushed harder, ignoring the burning it caused as it moved slightly.
“Hi, Blue,” He heard, relaxing slightly at the sound of Notos, “Go get help, alright?”
Tommy looked up at Notos as he climbed over the rubble, holding a thick bar. He blinked away tears.
Notos cleared his throat, “Great. You’re awake. How, uh, how bad are your injuries?”
“... I don’t know,” Tommy said, and then coughed, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, tears thick against his cheeks, “I don't know,” He repeated, voice stronger.
“That's disconcerting.”
Tommy gave Notos a thumbs up, leaning his head against the ground.
“Any injuries that you’re aware of?”
“Uh… I coughed and there was blood. I’m not sure if I actually coughed it up or if I bit the side of my mouth or, like, blood just dripped into my mouth when I passed out, but I coughed and there was blood, which is mildly concerning.”
“That’s more than mildly concerning, Theseus,” Notos said, pushing bits of debris away from the beam on top of Tommy.
He hummed, staring at his hands, “I’ve had worse.”
“Than your lungs drowning in your own blood?”
“Well, I’ve experienced it before, so,” Tommy shrugged, “I don’t feel as if I’m drowning, I suppose that’s a good sign.”
Notos paused for a second, “Are you ready?” He asked, shoving the bar he had brought underneath the beam.
“Go ahead.”
Notos pushed down, and the relief of weight was very nearly more excruciating than having it on his leg in the first place.
Tommy pushed himself backwards, biting on his tongue to prevent yelling from the pain, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuc king god. ”
“... I’m gonna go out a limb and say you’re not okay.”
“Wow, great observational skills,” Tommy snapped, hands clenched against his thigh. He took a breath, “Sorry.”
Notos glanced around them, “Can you walk?”
“Um. I don’t- probably not? My leg’s pretty fucked right now. Also my ankle. I think I sprained it.”
“Great. That’s just- great. Wait,” Notos felt around his waist, opening about a dozen pockets that Tommy didn’t know were there, “Nope. Nothing. Alright, uh, how do I- can I touch you?”
“What?”
“No, like, if you can’t walk, and we have to get out of here, I kinda gotta carry you. Can I touch you, or are you just gonna, like, limp?”
Tommy stared at Notos for a few seconds, “... I can try to walk.”
“Great. Yeah.”
Tommy twisted himself around, ignoring the burning in his thigh as he pushed himself up. He stumbled, landing on his leg to balance himself, and then fell again.
Notos grabbed his shoulder.
“Yep. Can’t walk.”
“Didn’t think you’d be able to. Come on, I’ll give you a piggyback.”
“A what?”
“A… piggyback?”
“I have no clue what that is.”
“Heh?”
“Notos, I was experimented on for many of my formative years, why the hell would I know what that is?”
“... Right. Climb on my back, it’s like a backpack carry.”
“How do I…”
“Okay, uh, step onto the beam. Right. Now, arms interlocked around my neck. You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, now just like, jump, and wrap your legs around my hips.”
“What?”
“It’ll be fine, I’ll catch you.”
Tommy shook his head, “Okay.”
Notos did catch him, but Tommy still had his hands locked together in a vice-like grip.
“And now we find a way to get out of here.”
“How long did I pass out for?” Tommy asked after a minute.
“Not sure. I was too, for a bit. Probably not more than 15 minutes, but my watch broke, so I’m not sure.”
“That’s fantastic,” Tommy drawled, sarcasm thick on his tongue.
“Yep. Have no idea what happened to Las Nevadas after Fundy blew it all up, either. Didn’t see them take cover, and haven’t seen them since. Maybe they’re all dead. Be nice for them to take care of themselves for once.”
Tommy huffed a laugh, “Yeah, no fucking way they’re dead. I’m never that lucky.”
“Yeah, well, one can hope,” Notos said, changing his footing as he stepped from a piece of fallen concrete to a broken beam.
“I want you to know that this might be, like, the scariest thing that I’ve done. And I’ve done a lot of fucking scary shit in my life, Notos, but I’m trusting you not to kill me here, that’s terrifying.”
“I… have no plans on killing you.”
“Thanks for the reassurance, big man, but you don’t sound too sure of yourself.”
“I won’t,” Notos said, with more finality, “Zeph likes you, for whatever reason. If I were to hurt you again, he’d throw a hissy fit.”
“ You don’t like me, then?”
“I have no concrete view of your character yet,” Notos said, waves of lie-lie-lie washing over Tommy’s mind, “So, I don’t know.”
“Wonderful,” Tommy said, anyway, “Thanks for the comfort.”
“Yeah... we’re almost out, by the way, just a little bit further.”
Tommy winced as Notos lost his footing, his leg knocking against the man’s side.
“Sorry.”
Tommy didn’t say anything in response, watching the area surrounding them.
Notos continued waking until they were several dozen feet from the rubble.
There were several shadows walking around the edges of the collapsed building, one sniffing at tire tracks burnt into the ground.
“Well,” Tommy said, “Looks as though my luck remains shit.”
“What?”
“The- tracks. From tires. They’re new and they lead away .”
Notos rolled his shoulders, taking a breath, “That doesn’t necessarily mean that they all got away. Just means at least one did.”
“That’s someone that just tried to kill us, Notos.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Creeper dude, Sam?”
Tommy hummed.
“He didn’t try anything. In fact, he just- up and left.”
“He what?”
“Yeah. Was just like, slithering along the wall. Ran out. Shadows didn’t follow him, so they couldn’t have seen anything too awful surrounding him,” Notos tilted his head, turning slightly to look back at the once-was-a-fire-station, “I think we’re far enough, you can get down now.”
Tommy slid off his back, hopping on one foot as he landed. He let himself fall backwards, onto the concrete.
Notos sat down next to him after a few seconds, picking at small rocks around him.
“What happens now?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“I thought… I thought that I had it all planned out perfectly, that I would be here and I would just- kill him. Them. But, I- I froze. I just- what happens now? What do I do?”
“I- don’t know why you’re asking me that.”
“Right. Yeah, right.”
“ But, I think you just keep living. Keep going. Keep trying. You’ve been doing that for what, you said four years, already?”
“Four years that he didn’t know my name , Notos. Know my friends.”
“You could run.”
“I’m tired of running,” Tommy said, sighing, “I just- I’m so tired .”
“... You’re a lot younger than I’m thinking you are, aren’t you?”
Tommy laughed, part scoff and part sob. He sniffed, “I might be.”
Notos breathed deeply, looking from Tommy to the ground and back to Tommy, “Tell about your life before it. What you remember.”
“I-” Tommy shook his head, “I was the youngest. Two brothers. I can’t remember their names or their faces, but- but I still- I want… they were good. They were my brothers, so they were- it was rocky at times, but I still love them. Is that bad? Loving people you can hardly remember? Aching for their love?”
“I don’t think so. You loved them. They loved you- still love you, if my personal experiences say anything.”
“Right. You had a brother? That’s who they took?”
Notos stared at him, and then looked back at the ground, “Yeah. Younger brother. He- I’ve wanted them to pay for what they did to my family for years, but- but I suppose- I don’t know. You know, you have the same hair as him.”
Tommy hummed.
“Though I hope to god you’re older than him. But hope’s not always good for everything.”
Tommy took a shaky breath, “You still love him?”
“With everything in me.”
Tommy blinked hard, swallowing a lump in his throat, “What was it like for you? Being older, having a younger brother?”
“... It was nice. I’ve never- never been good at making friends, never really felt like I needed them, so having brothers was like- free friends. But then, uh, then they took my brother and- it kind of all went to shit for a while. And I don’t think-” He paused, stopping what he was saying before he could say it, “My brother, I mean, the one I told you about a while back, I don’t think he’s completely accepted what’s happened. Maybe I’m just-” Notos paused, hope and shame and guilt burning around him, “A bad person for accepting the fact that he’s probably dead, but-”
“They didn’t kill any avians. Not when we’re so rare. They would- they would dissect us, but they made sure we didn’t die. Though I’m not so sure that death would be the worse option.”
Notos cracked his knuckles, “... Would you prefer to have died?”
“I… at some points, yes. But I also thought that at some points that they were just going to kill me. I’m glad that I’m alive, I mean, but I don’t think I’ve properly lived in a long time. It’s complicated, I guess. I mean, I’m in a better place now than I was when I first got out, but- there are still days that I wish-” He shook his head, “There are days I wished I had died. There are days where I want to die. But, I am glad I’m alive. Dying- actively dying, that is- is scary as fuck. Especially when the people around you aren't there to help you through it. So, yes, sometimes. No, other times.”
“He called you Thomas.” He said, voice thick with something like sentiment.
“He did.”
“Is that your name?”
“It’s a name.”
Notos stared at him, and Tommy met his gaze for a few seconds before turning away, staring at the sky for a few seconds to fight against the blur threatening his vision.
“He called you mini Minecraft.”
“He did.”
Tommy’s body shook with a silent sob.
“You- you have friends, don’t you? That’s what you said?” Notos asked, a deflection.
“Yeah.”
“And one of them works for Creeper Dude?”
“It- it’s an apprenticeship. He hid it from me, from another friend for a while, because he knew, he knew how risky it was. But, he’s never been good at hiding shit from me, so I learned that it was Sam that he was learning from pretty quickly, and I told him how risky it was, but- but Sam’s the only apprenticeship he could get, and he needs it. It’s important that he has one, for several reasons. And I promised him that we’d never go back there, but I don’t know if I can keep that promise.”
“You could-” Notos stopped himself, rolling his shoulders, leaning back on the palms of his hands, “How did Sam not know before?”
“He was at a different facility. Sam had never met him before, never even knew his name.”
“Right.”
Tommy sighed, dropping his head to his chest and closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Tommy looked at him, watching as Notos pushed his hood down, pink hair falling out of braids. He swallowed harshly, forcing himself to look away, “What?”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
Tommy inhaled sharply, “You couldn’t have stopped Fundy from doing that.”
They both knew Notos wasn’t talking about anything recent.
They both knew Tommy was deflecting.
Still, Notos nodded, voice choked slightly, “Right. Yeah, you’re right.”
“What is Fundy to- you?”
“He’s my cousin. Mom’s nephew. Guess ruin type runs in the family, huh?”
Tommy blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek, nodding, “I have to go.”
“Theseus-”
“I can’t stay, Notos.”
“Please, Theseus. At least wait until Zeph comes. He’ll have health potions. Just- let me heal you.”
“Notos-”
“I’m sorry, Theseus, I am so, so sorry for what’s happened to you, but if I can- can do something, help in some way, please, let me.”
“... Fine. Just a bit longer.”
“Just a bit longer,” Notos nodded, “Can I- can I look at your leg? It didn’t look too great.”
Tommy shook his head, “Knock yourself out, big man.”
Notos brushed his fingers over Tommy’s thigh and Tommy immediately pushed against his shoulder, breathing harshly, “Fuck. Sorry.”
“That bad?”
Tommy breathed out through his teeth, “I think- I think that I’ve just run out of adrenaline, fucking hell. I mean, it hurt before, but-” He slapped the concrete a few times, “ God. ”
Notos stared at him, “There’s no way you’d be able to walk out of here on your own.”
“Don’t really need to, I have-” Tommy pulled his phone out of his pocket, stopping as he stared at the cracked screen. He held it sideways, blinking in shock as he stared at the concave phone. He clenched his jaw, and then screamed in frustration, “I fucking hate my life. I got this like four months ago, what the fuck.”
Notos laughed once, and then slapped a hand over the bottom half of his mask, “Sorry.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the man, “Oh, yeah, laugh at my misfortune.”
“Well, why would you bring your actual phone! And why doesn’t it have a case!”
“Because no one’s at home, and if I needed someone I’d have to actually call them! Who are you to judge me, Notos?”
“Someone could literally just hack into that and learn everything about you.”
“Oh, yeah? I don’t give a shit, maybe they can learn something about me that I don’t know, like, hey! Is the name in the file that I stole actually my name, or is it another fucking lie! Who knows, not me!”
“Yeah, really? And what’s the name?”
Tommy pointed at Notos, narrowing his eyes, “No.”
“Wonderful name, gotta say. Definitely suits you.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“I mean, my Mom wanted to name me Atlas, so,” He shrugged, “Kind of a good name, I get sad that it isn’t actually mine every once in a while. But, it’s like, Atlas? Why Atlas? ”
“Force you to carry the weight of the world.”
Notos scoffed a laugh, “She wouldn’t do that on purpose. On accident, however?” He tilted his head, shrugging.
Tommy snorted.
Notos head turned slightly, towards the direction of the road, “Oh, time to move.”
“What?”
“Car. Not sure if it’s help or not, and I’d rather not leave you sitting on the ground in plain sight if it’s not.”
“Wow, so considerate of you. Unfortunately, my leg is in severe pain and I do not think I can stand and-slash-or move.”
“Was that really necessary?” Notos asked, extending a hand to Tommy.
“Yes,” Tommy said as he took it, hopping on one leg as he stood.
Notos wrapped an arm around Tommy’s back, supporting the majority of his weight as he limped towards the docks, where dozens of abandoned crates laid, unused except for litter and old firepits, except for the graves of childhood and friendships.
(“And we will be together,” He had whispered, a promise he didn't know if he could keep, “I’ll burn it all down so that we can be together. I won’t let you go back there.”
“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Tommy had whispered back, pressing his forehead against his friends’, hands gripping onto the back of Eryn’s sweater — a lifeline he was terrified to cut, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay, I just- can’t. You’re not safe around me.”
“You can’t just leave, Tommy. Not me, not Freddie.”
“One day,” Tommy had said, the words heavy in his throat, like tar on his tongue — a promise that he knew he would never be able to keep, “One day, it’s all gonna be gone. And I’ll find you again, alright? But you’re not safe around me. And I can't drag you into my problems. Tell Freddie I’m sorry.”
Eryn had argued, had said that Tommy’s ‘problems’ were things that he couldn’t handle alone, but they were fourteen. They were fourteen and Tommy did have people who were running from the same people he was. They were fourteen and Tommy didn’t know how else to keep his friends safe.
He still didn’t.)
Tommy slid down a crate, wincing as he bent his leg. He pulled his dagger out, breathing through his teeth as his thigh throbbed.
Notos stood just in front of him, closer to where the car was quickly approaching. One hand was clenched around his sword, while the other was held back towards Tommy.
The car stopped, and Tommy heard a door open.
Notos relaxed and walked out from behind the crate, “I need some first aid, Zeph.”
“You hurt?”
“Nah. Theseus is, though. Actually, my lungs might be a bit,” He tilted his hand side to side rapidly, guestering ‘so-so’, “But, pretty alright.”
“Prick,” Tommy muttered, “Giving out a weakness like that is a bitch move.”
Notos laughed. Tommy did not.
Gravel crunched underneath someone’s feet as they walked, and Zephyrus turned the corner holding a bag that looked big enough to fit all of Tommy’s belongings and then some.
“That’s… all first aid?”
“Yeah?”
“Man, what the fuck?”
“What?”
“Why so much?”
“It… really isn’t,” Zephyrus said, opening the bag as he kneeled next to Tommy, “Should I be worried about the state of injuries you’ve sustained in the past?”
“Probably,” Tommy said, putting his dagger back in it’s sheath, “I mean, my knee, like, clicks, every once in a while when I’m walking. But I don’t think that’s from my time being like Batman. Actually, Batman’s a shit example. Hm, go with Spiderman.”
“Completely different universes,” Zephyrus noted, nodding, turning on a flashlight.
“Didn’t ask, don’t care.”
He snorted, and then glanced over at Notos, “What exactly happened?”
“Uh. A lot. Fundy blew the place up. Theseus almost dropped down two separate sinkholes.”
“Listen, Foolish being a little bit of a bitch is not my fault.”
“Sorry, Fundy blew it up?”
“Mhm.”
“No,” Zephyrus laughed, “He’s not that powerful. That place is rubble. ”
“Zeph, I wasn’t supposed to be as powerful as I am, either.”
“Still, there’s no way.”
“I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn't seen it.”
Zephyrus shook his head, turning to look at Tommy’s leg, “Wow, you really fucked this up, huh?”
“Listen, listen-” Tommy said, lips pressing together, holding up a hand, “That’s just rude. I did not ask for Fundy to drop a support beam on me, no, I did not.”
Zephyrus snorted, “What do you think, regen?”
“To drink,” Notos said, nodding, “But put some health on it, I think. Where’s, uh, Boreas?”
“He is… otherwise preoccupied.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s entertaining guests .”
Notos hummed.
Zephyrus looked back at Tommy, “Do you have a high pain tolerance?”
“Not really, but I learnt to deal with it.”
Notos flinched.
Zephyrus paused for a second, and then hummed in acknowledgement, “Cool, because this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”
“What-”
Zephyrus poured a bubbling red liquid over Tommy’s leg.
Tommy smacked his closed fist against the side of the crate, “WHAT THE FUCK!”
“I told you it would-”
Tommy hissed in pain, “I’ve had health potions before, fuck you mean! They don’t usually hurt.”
Zephyrus tilted his head, “You’ve had diluted health potions before. You’ve not had something this-” He shook the bottle, “-potent. Boreas made it. He’s good with potions.”
“I’m better,” Notos said, raising a hand slightly.
Zephyrus snorted, “Okay, bud.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Hm?”
“I think you know,” He said, grabbing another bottle out of the bag and handing it to Tommy, “Drink this.”
Tommy tilted the bottle under dull lighting, glittering pink and swirling. He took the stopper out, wincing at the smell that assaulted him as he did. He coughed, frowning, and then titled the bottle towards the villains, “Cheers, I guess,” He said, and then downed the bottle, some dripping out the side of his mouth as he tried not to think about the taste.
He dropped the bottle, shivering, shaking his head side to side. He looked at Zephyrus, who was staring at him expectantly, “And I didn’t think anything could taste worse than grape cough syrup.”
The man stared for a second, and then laughed, gasping for air, “Okay, but… I don’t think- I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone down one that fast.”
“Nemesis,” Notos said.
“No, she- she’s never even-” Zephyrus paused, “You hid Nemesis’s injuries from me?”
Notos paused, “No,” He drawled, “Why would I do that?”
“Notos,” He said, voice demanding but not compelling.
“... You’re overprotective, sorry that she doesn’t want you to do everything for her.”
He sighed, “What even- you know what? We’re talking about this later.”
“We… are not, but okay.”
Zephyrus shot a look at Notos, and then sighed, exasperated, “You’re good then, Theseus? Any other injuries.”
“Physical? No.”
“I’m gonna regret asking this. What other types?”
“Emotional. Physiological. I should really go to a therapist.”
Zephyrus sighed again, rubbing his face with a hand, “ Yes , you definitely should.”
“Can you find a way home, Theseus?”
Tommy felt along his pants, patting one of the pockets, coins jingling, “Yep. Should be fine.”
“That’s not very- whatever. Good luck. Have fun. Don’t die.”
“What are you, my Dad? Don’t tell me what to do, Notos.”
“Do you even have a Dad?”
“Woah, there, big man. I’m the one here that gets to make the fatherless jokes. Don’t punch down, man, kind of a shitty thing to do.”
“I- I asked a question!”
Tommy hummed, shaking his head.
Zephyrus nodded, “Yeah, come on, Notos. That’s so rude.”
“Not you too! I thought I could trust you!”
“You can. With your life. Just not with your ego, man. Someone’s gotta keep you humble.”
“Oh, yeah? Alright, like when you, this morning, went to-”
“Shut up.”
Notos’ head tilted up slightly, amused.
----
A crow pecked at the grass beside Tommy’s head, the rhythmic tapping burning in his ears.
Tap, tap, taap, tap.
He pushed himself onto his elbows, eyes narrowing at the harsh bright of the reddened sun, grass cold under his arms.
He stood, and the crow went tap, taap. Taap, taap. Tap, tap.
The sound echoed on metal and the ground felt hollow as he took a step.
He glanced down at the metal floor - aluminum or tin or steel, of some sort.
Tap, taap, tap, tap, went the crow, beak puncturing the metal, taap, tap, taap, taap.
Tommy was unsettled, and for every step back he took, the bird took a step closer.
He looked back at the sun, and it was blood orange, bleeding across the sky, splattered across the metal ground.
He swallowed.
Taap, tap, taap, tap. Taap, taap, taap. Tap, taap, tap.
“Stop that!” Tommy yelled, kicking at the bird. His foot slipped on the metal, and as he stepped to kick again, he slipped in the blood of the sun.
Tap, tap, tap, taap, went the bird, tap, tap, taap.
“Enough! Stupid - fucking -” The blood crawled up his shoes.
Tap, tap, tap.
The orange light burned around the bird, blackening and being absorbed into- nothing. The bird’s feathers shone under light that didn’t exist as it tucked it’s beak under its wing, preening.
“What do you want! Tell me, please!”
Taap, taap, went the bird, tap, tap, taap.
Something clicked.
Taap, taap, the crow repeated.
Tommy turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could ( too slow, his brain mocked) from the bird.
Footsteps echoed on the metal ground behind him, and Tommy’s eyes burned with light too bright, too blinding. His feet slipped on slick red every step, until eventually-
He tripped, and the bloodied metal burned his skin as he slid.
The bird (too big, too small, too much ) jumped onto Tommy’s chest.
Taap, taap, it went.
“Apollo, please,” Tommy begged ( where did the name come from? ).
Tap, tap.
“Please! I’m not Ischys! Not Coronis!”
Taap, tap. Tap. Taap, tap, taap, tap.
“I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”
Tap, taap, tap.
“Not everything can be helped, Apollo!” He cried.
Tap, taap. Tap, tap, taap, tap.
“Not everything is deserved,” He pleaded, as the bird walked up, closer to Tommy’s head. He whispered, “I didn’t know.”
He closed his eyes and-
Taap.
----
Tommy gasped, eyes shooting open.
“You alright, big man?”
He looked at Tubbo, eyes burning at the bright of the laptop screen, “... Yeah. Yeah, just- bad dream. Weird dream. I dunno.”
“What was it about?”
Tommy frowned, a crow and a red sun (blood and tapping, the bird mocking him) flashing across his mind, “It was- weird. There was this- this crow, and- and it kept tapping its beak against the ground. I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
Tubbo turned in his chair, “Hm. It’s nearly 8, by the way, so there’s probably no point going back to sleep. You have work in an hour.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
Tommy ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the sweat that coated his forehead.
He pushed himself off their couch, stiff and old and found on the side of the road, “Where’s Ranboo, big man?”
“Uh. Went out to get something for Wilbur Soot.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Say what, like what?”
“His name. Like- like he’s some sort of blood-sucking vampire. Like he’s gonna kill Ranboo in his sleep.”
“He might.”
“ Tubbo .”
“What?” Tubbo said, hands flying out to the side as his chair spun, “He’s a rich bitch, Tommy! They’re all fucking insane!”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”
“Listen, I get that you’re like- friends, or something with him. With his brother, but they-” He sighed, “Tommy, people like us don’t mix with people like them. I just want you to stay safe.”
(A burning building, falling beams, the ground caving in, a familiar green face staring at him — not safe, not safe, not safe.)
“Yeah. Sure.”
Something sour flashed across Tubbo’s face (the thing sticking in Tommy’s brain long after it vacated Tubbo’s), and he opened his mouth before pausing again, “... Are you sure you’re okay, Tommy? What happened last night?”
“I’m fine, Tubbo. No injuries, or nothing. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
----
“Goodmorning, Tommy,” Niki said, a book open on the counter as she put fresh pastries in baskets.
“Morning, Niki. How was the shift last night?”
Niki levelled a look at him, “It was fine, Tommy. You switching shifts with someone is not going to cause a problem.”
Tommy held up his hands in surrender, “Right, yeah-”
“Nope, none of that. You already work too much as is. A day with you not working isn’t going to be the end of the world.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything in response, “Did anything interesting happen?”
“Well. Wil came by looking for you. Left. Came back a half hour later, because he thought you would magically turn up, or something. Other than that- oh! Tubbo set fire to one of the cakes?”
“How the fuck did he manage that?”
“I don’t know,” Niki said, shoulders dropping slightly.
The bell on the door rang, and Tommy’s ear perked as he walked around the counter, dropping his bag by the back room.
“Tommy,” Niki asked, slowly, “Could you get me the cookies on the counter in the back? I forgot them.”
“Yeah, alright.”
The back room smelt of sugar, as he walked in, and his stomach growled at the thought of food. He glanced at one of the muffins, contemplating stealing it off of the cooling rack.
He shook his head, grabbing the cookie sheet off of the counter and-
He was falling.
The cookies hit the ground with a clatter.
An arm stopped him from face planting, lowering him slowly to the tiled floor.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” Someone said, a voice so familiar and yet so far away and-
Tommy fell asleep.
Notes:
i changed the number of chapters because i really wanted to get this one out, and otherwise it would've been really fucking long.
anyways, for the people that actually read this, the bird's 'tapping' is morse code. it spells out the words: family, corvus, mum, and minecraft
have a good day/night/whatever!!
I'm gonna go to bed now
Chapter 10: I Know Who I Am Now And All That You've Made Me
Summary:
“Oh, Tommy,” Wilbur said, and then Tommy was no longer against the wall but instead held in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the city, “Oh baby bird, oh baby brother. You’re here, oh dear. Oh, baby bird. In my arms again. No one is taking you away from me ever again.”
Notes:
i have no words for myself for not having updated for so long. sorry, i guess.
i haven't even been busy, i just haven't been able to write. i will blame it on having english this quad. my teacher is awful, i hate him. anyways, I'm on winter break now so i hope to write more (maybe, idk)
the poem is from the book 'the princess saves herself in this one' by Amanda Lovelace
TW// referenced child abuse, suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, kidnapping, manipulation, tommy gets electrocuted at one point, wilbur forces tommy to reveal some things about himself using his power, referenced past injuries
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
you were sent down from the stars
exactly the way you were supposed to be—
the way you would love,
the way you would lust,
& the way you would find your wings—
& no one should have been given
the power to take that away from you
- you deserve your pulse
----
“Tommy,” Someone said, accompanied by something wet on his forehead, “Tommy, come on, darling. Wake up, please.”
“F’ve more minutes, Tubbo. M’ head hurts,” He mumbled.
“Tommy, please, I’m not Tubbo.”
“Don’ b’ s’lly-” He mumbled, eyes opening slightly. The light felt like a hot knife, and his head pounded as he turned, “Fuck, what happened?”
“I should be asking you that,” Wilbur said, pulling the cloth off of Tommy’s forehead, “You- I- What do you remember?”
“What do you mean? Niki asked me to get cookies, and then- then I came in here, grabbed them, and then-” He frowned, “I fell? No- that’s not- I don’t know.”
“Tommy,” Wilbur said slowly, “Niki- Niki’s gone.”
“What do you mean ‘Niki’s gone?’”
“ I mean … someone took her, Tommy.”
He blanched, stomach rolling.
He wasn’t- this couldn’t be-
This was his fault, wasn’t it?
If Quackity knew about Tubbo, then he had to know where they worked and- and that meant that- that-
No. It couldn’t be his fault, could it?
No, no, Niki couldn’t have been-
“Tommy?”
“Who would do that?” His voice was hardly above a whisper, despite the fact that he knew.
Something dark crossed Wilbur’s mind, “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me.”
“... Wil?”
“Tommy, you had to have seen something. ”
He swallowed, opening his mouth, and then closing it after a second.
“I didn’t see anything,” He said at last, “And- and I don’t remember anything, only falling, but- there’s- there’s, uh, there’s people after me. I don’t know why exactly- well, I do, but I don’t know why they had me in the first place.”
Something burned through Wilbur’s brain, positive and negative and a thousand different things at once. His fingers twitched for a knife. Instead, he asked, “Had you?”
“I… I’m not an orphan, Big Dubs,” Tommy chuckled darkly, a hand pushing his hair back, “I mean, I might be now, I have no fucking clue, but I’m not alone because my parents died. Well, my mum did, that’s how they got me. Came into the house when it was just her and I, killed her, stole me. I don’t know why. I was just a kid and- and they didn’t even touch anything else. I just don’t understand, man.”
“They just-” Wilbur cleared his throat, glancing back at the door, “What, uh, what did they do to you?”
Tommy shook his head, “Took a fuck-ton of my blood, had me drugged a lot of the time too. They weren’t all bad, I mean, they were, but there were a couple of them who helped me out. Blankets, food, water, door codes. I got out a couple of years ago.”
“And you think that they might have Niki?”
“I don’t know,” He admitted, something slimy crawling up his throat, “I don’t know, Wil. I hope not, but- but… they might. They know my name now, I learned that yesterday, but- this was stupid. I shouldn’t have- this was my fault. She’s not- she doesn’t deserve this.”
“Tommy, hey,” Wilbur placed his hand on Tommy’s cheek, turning his face lightly, “You’re still just a baby, Tommy, the actions of others aren’t your fault. And you’re just a- a chick, you know? You can’t understand everything.”
“I should’ve known better, Wil. I should’ve known that- that they would make someone else pay for my mistakes, I never should’ve- I should’ve just gone back with them.”
“Don’t say that,” He hissed, “Don’t you- don’t you say that, Tommy.”
“Why not, Wil? Then she’d be safe. I'd know she'd be safe.”
Wilbur sighed, pulling Tommy into a hug, “We don't even know if it’s these people that have her, darling,” He said, emotions muddled and darkened by something sticky like guilt, “And you’re safe, you know? That’s important too. You’re important, too.”
“But it’s Niki, Wil. She doesn’t- she’s so good. ”
“I know,” He said, “I know. We’ll deal with it, Toms, why don’t you just go to sleep, hm? It’s fine.”
And his head was falling back again, but this time there was no soft apology, no hand catching him, but he was lowered to the ground slowly and-
He doesn't remember the rest. You never do, when you fall asleep. You remember up to a certain point, sure, but never falling asleep.
He should’ve been less surprised when he woke up in the position he did, but- c’est la vie, yes?
The couch he was lying on was vaguely familiar, oft and definitely new, if its condition said anything about it, but he couldn’t place it. Until he glanced to his side, where a family picture sat.
Where Wil and Techno were throwing snowballs at their father.
Huh.
So he was in the Soot’s house, despite the fact that he had just been at the cafe and-
Did they kidnap him?
No, that didn’t make any sense, because Niki had just been kidnapped and- and Niki’s boots were sitting at the door.
Niki had been kidnapped, Wil had said that. But Niki’s boots were sitting at Wilbur’s front door.
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, and then-
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, no.
Oh, it was a setup.
Why was it a setup?
They didn’t need the money they’d get turning Tommy into Las Nevadas, but they were rich. Rich people always wanted more money, didn’t they?
But Wilbur thought of him like a little brother, he had said that, while smiling and ruffling Tommy’s hair. And he didn’t flinch away whenever Tommy’s voice grew too loud. And he talked to him, started conversations with him.
But that day in the coffee shop, he hadn’t moved until the dude had threatened Niki’s safety. And the second Niki had been threatened, Wilbur hadn’t even thought about the consequences of using his Wither. He had just done it.
He had done it for Niki. Not Tommy.
He shook his head, he didn’t know what was going on, he couldn’t, but he did know that the Soot’s had effectively kidnapped him, and Niki was supposed to be in danger, but wasn’t and-
“Oh, you’re awake! That’s surprising, they don’t usually wake up that quickly.”
“What the fuck?” Tommy breathed, staring at Techno, “What the fuck?”
“Oh,” He said, shaking his head, “Yeah. Uh.”
“What’s going on, Techno?”
He tilted his head at Tommy, guilt and regret and understanding.
“Techno,” He repeated, “What’s going on?”
“You see, Tommy… you see, my family and I, we- we tend to be very protective of our own.”
“Right.”
“And, well, we’ve known you for a couple of months now, but- but you’re still technically just Niki’s employee, because Phil’s only met you once, and not for long. So- so, you see-”
“You figured you’d just- do what, exactly?”
“Listen, Tommy, Wil and I- fuck, I’m bad at explaining this,” He pulled a strand of his hair, sighing, “Look, long story short, you- remind Wilbur of someone we lost.”
“What, so he staged Niki being kidnapped and then kidnapped me?”
“Wait, Niki being kidnapped?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what he said.”
Techno’s ear twitched, something akin to curiosity or confusion turning into fear and rage like ice melting to water.
He turned on his heel, walking back down the hall, footsteps echoing.
Tommy pushed himself off the couch, wincing at the pins and needles in his feet as he did.
Okay, so they had kidnapped him because he reminded them of someone.
Fuck, was it some sort of Coraline shit?
Were they gonna fucking dress him up like the dude they missed? Sew buttons in his eyes?
Tommy shuddered, walking towards the door.
He glanced at Niki’s boots again, before placing his hand on the handle and-
His palm burned hot and cold, and he couldn’t let go of the door handle.
Fuck. God, okay, fuck.
He could deal with electrocution. It would be just fine. They wouldn’t set it high enough to kill him, so he’d be fine. But if he wasn’t able to let go of it soon, he might not be.
His arm spasmed, and it fell from the handle.
He fell backwards, gasping for air.
Fuck.
Fucking god.
Of fucking course it wouldn’t be that easy.
His head was pounding and-
And lying down sounded real nice.
Just- just a quick little nap.
Yeah, yeah, that’d be- that’d be really nice.
He lowered his head to the ground, curling into a ball.
He was so tired.
----
Tommy’s eyes snapped open, darting around the room.
Wilbur was sitting on the couch, arm casually draped over the back of it as he stared at Tommy, “Nice to see you awake, Toms. Had me worried there, for a bit.”
Tommy flinched, pushing himself away from the man, scrambling to his feet, “Uh-huh.”
“I mean,” Wilbur said, pushing a hand through his hair, “Kind of my own fault that you were- well, passed out, but whatever. I will say, though, trying to leave was kind of stupid, Tommy.”
“You boobytrapped your fucking door.”
“Electrified it, yes, but you still tried to leave.”
“Maybe you should’ve had someone fucking watching me then, Wilbur. Or, you know, just not fucking- what, kidnap me, in the first place! Maybe that would’ve been a bit better.”
“Come on, Toms, that’s in the past, it’s not even-”
“Was Niki even kidnapped?”
Wilbur froze and then rolled his shoulders, “No. No, she wasn’t.”
“So, you used her.”
“She agreed to it,” Wilbur shook his head.
“She feels like she owes you. That’s coercion. That’s you using her.”
“She doesn’t owe us shit.”
“That doesn’t matter if she feels like she does!”
“Shut up, Tommy! You don’t know shit!”
“Shit about what? Huh, Wilbur? I don’t know what it feels like to think you owe someone? Fucking news flash, I still feel like I owe some of the people that hurt me, and it makes me sick! I don’t know what it feels like to be coerced? They’d help me, and then they’d take my blood and I let them because I felt like I had no other choice. I did have no other choice.”
“Niki’s situation-”
“Is different? Yeah, I can fucking understand that, but-”
“Las Nevadas had you, yes?”
Tommy stiffened.
“Maybe,” Wilbur said, “Maybe they should have you back.”
(“And you’re safe, you know? That’s important too. You’re important, too.”)
Tommy blanched.
“Huh. That’s really all it takes to shut you up?” He asked, tilting his head, “Well, as I was saying, Niki didn’t have to do anything. In fact, she suggested it. What better way to loosen your tongue than make you think it’s your fault?”
(“You’re still just a baby, Tommy, the actions of others aren’t your fault. And you’re just a- a chick, you know? You can’t understand everything.”)
Tommy took a step backwards, head pounding with confusion-fear-excitment, “You’re fucking with me. You- you made me think that- that…” He let out a shaky breath, clenching his hands, “You’re an asshole, Wilbur.”
“Eh,” He said, “Maybe.”
“... Did you ever care about me?”
Wilbur’s eyebrows rose, “I do care about you, Tommy. More than you could know. But I will protect my family however I must, even if that means hurting someone else that I love.”
“Don’t fucking say that, Wil.”
“What?”
“Don’t say you love me and you’re willing to harm me in the same sentence.”
Wilbur sighed, “Your roommates, Ranboo and Tubbo-”
“Don’t bring them into this.”
“They were there too, weren’t they?” He continued, “Las Nevadas had them?”
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“I’ll say what’s my business, thanks. You’d protect them to hell and back, damn whatever happens to you? That’s what I’ll do with my family,” He shook his head.
Tommy took a step backwards, fingers brushing along the wall.
“I wanted to give you a while. A few more chances. I thought it was odd, to be honest, the way you read me when we first met, no one’s guesses are that good, and then that day that someone tried to rob the place, you didn’t even flinch. You were annoyed. And then you came in with a burn on your arm — so obviously not from boiling water, by the way, and I just- I couldn’t take it anymore, Toms. I just- your hiding is so — fucking — annoying.”
Fingers crawled up his spine, ice-cold and sharp as knives. He swallowed hard, and his breath shook as he pushed his shoulders back in a bad attempt to maintain his facade of confidence.
His eyes danced around the room, cataloguing anything he could use as a weapon, highlighting ways to escape. He cracked his knuckles using his thumbs, holding them down by his side and not allowing them to clench, not allowing them to give away his anger, his fear.
Not that that did anything, Wilbur knew him. Wilbur was brilliant and he had been watching the little things Tommy did since the second he met him. Wilbur would see his chin held just a little too high, his shoulders pushed back just a little too far, him cracking his knuckles, and he would know that anxiety was eating away the teen, that he was absolutely terrified, horrified.
Tommy thought that he was doing good. No, Tommy knew was doing good. He had covered his tracks, he had buried his past, he had burnt down everything that could trace him to the facility.
So how the fuck did Wilbur know? What fucking magic did he have to pull to know what he knew?
Tommy swallowed again, this time not quite as hard as the last. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bullshit me. Don’t you fucking dare lie to me, Thomas Innit.” He pointed a finger at Tommy, his eyes narrowed, mouth pulled into a snarl. Angry. He took a breath, pushed himself back in the chair, and schooled his face, “Or is it Turner Innes? Or Theodore Inman?” He watched the teen with his head tilted.
“Wil, I-” He swallowed, straightened his spine, lifted his chin from where it had fallen to make him stare at the floor, “I was a street kid. I was kidnapped, you know this. You can’t just- just tell everyone your actual name. I didn’t even know my actual name for so long!”
He scoffed, “And you somehow managed to scrounge up fucking paperwork for name changes? I know you , you hate accepting help, so how the fuck did that happen?”
Tommy narrowed his eyes. Wilbur was purposely avoiding it, he had to be. Wilbur had to know, it was the only thing that made sense.
Tommy snarled, “I have no obligation to share my past with you.”
“And I have no obligation to keep you alive, Toms. I’m giving you an opportunity, an out. You really should take it.”
The fingers were back again, though this time the presence stayed, a hand resting against the small of his back maintaining a chill along his spine.
His breath shook, “I don’t make a habit of taking olive branches from people who threaten to kill me.”
Wilbur sighed, shaking his head. He was up and holding Tommy’s face in a vice grip before he could process what was happening. Wilbur’s fingers dug into his cheeks, and the grip betrayed his voice, which softened (a warm fireplace after the biting cold of winter), “Come on, Toms. Talk to me. What’s your actual name and what’s your power? That’s all I want to know.”
“My name is Tommy. I’m powerless.”
Wilbur’s hand was against his throat in half a second, holding him against the wall and limiting his air. His voice wasn’t soft anymore, “Don’t lie to me!”
Tommy’s hands swung at his hand, his wrist, his elbow, but to no avail.
“Your name. Your power.” Wilbur’s face had darkened, his eyebags like bruises and making him look a thousand times more out of his mind.
“I swear, Wil,” He coughed out, his hands still pulling at Wilbur’s arm, “I’m Tommy, I swear.”
His grip loosened ever so slightly, and Tommy was instantly coughing, trying to get as much air as he could before it eventually tightened again.
Wilbur’s jaw clenched, and then he seemed to calm down, making eye contact that Tommy wanted to break instantly because he knew what was about to happen, “Your name.”
No. No, Wilbur couldn’t be- he couldn’t- he wouldn’t have-
Wilbur had kidnapped Tommy.
Zephyrus had called Tommy’s fear delectable.
Zephyrus could control people with a word.
And Tommy couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.
“Thomas. Tommy, I’m Tommy.”
The man frowned, and his grip loosened even more, “Your power.”
“I’m a-” Tommy’s face furrowed, and he choked on the words that jumped up his throat, begging to be said, “Telepath.” he allowed through.
“Good boy,” Wilbur said, though his voice sounded forced, and then Tommy was facing the wall and a hand was holding the back of his throat to keep him there and Wilbur was pulling the plaid off of him.
Tommy bit his tongue as the air of the apartment came into contact with him back.
Wilbur’s other hand barely touched his back as he traced the wings.
Tommy bit back a sob.
Wilbur’s hand rested against the base of his wings and Tommy pushed himself closer to the wall, struggling against the hand that kept him pinned to the wall, wanting to get away, wanting the touch to leave .
“Beautiful,” Wilbur whispered, “Absolutely beautiful.”
“Please,” Tommy begged at the same time, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he wanted, “Please, Wil.”
Wilbur pushed against a spot in his back, and then the tension was relieved, and his wings were out.
“Oh, gorgeous. Wonderful.” His voice was soft again, and tears were streaming down Tommy’s face.
“Please, Wil,” He begged, “Please stop.”
“Oh, Tommy,” Wilbur said, and then Tommy was no longer against the wall but instead held in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the city, “Oh baby bird, oh baby brother. You’re here, oh dear. Oh, baby bird. In my arms again. No one is taking you away from me ever again.”
“Wil, stop this,” He sobbed, pushing against the man’s chest.
Wilbur pulled away from Tommy, “Hey, darling, don’t cry. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t- I- I wouldn’t have ever tried to scare you if I- if I had known.”
“Known what? That you’re fucking insane?”
“Oh, darling boy,” He cradled Tommy’s face gently, “You don’t remember, do you?”
“What do you want, Wilbur?”
“Oh, I want you to remember, sweetheart. I want you to remember every single good thing, darling boy.”
A chirp climbed up Tommy’s throat, distressed and confused and scared, “What are you saying?”
“Oh darling Tommy, little Theseus, my little brother.”
His breath caught in his throat, “What did you just call me?”
“Little Theseus? Little brother? Which one?”
Tommy stumbled away from him.
How did he know? How did he know Tommy was Theseus?
Tommy knew he had to have known, but still.
His head pounded. He couldn’t be Wilbur’s brother, because the papers had said that his last name was Minecraft, and Wil’s was Soot, and Techno’s was Blade and-
And Wilbur clearly had a dozen secrets.
“Your name’s not Soot, is it?” He asked, voice shaking.
“No. It’s Minecraft, darling. But you know our last name, you stole back your file from Las Nevadas. And- and now that we have you back, we can burn it down. We can kill them all.”
Tommy’s hands shook, “You’re fucking lying.”
“Why would I do that, dear? You know me. You know me twice.”
“... You’re Zephyrus.”
“Very good, Tommy.”
“And that makes- makes Techno, Notos,” Wilbur hummed, “And then- Nemesis, Nemesis is Niki?”
“Yes, well, I’m not very happy about that, but,” He shrugged.
“How many lies have you told me?”
“Too many, dear. Too many that I wish I hadn’t.”
“You still did.”
“I didn't know.”
“You-” Tommy scoffed, “Oh, so if you had known, you wouldn't have lied? You would've told me everything?”
“Don't act like you didn't lie to us too, Tommy!”
“Techno almost killed me! You know that! You called my fear delectable!”
“And we saved you, too!”
“That does not change facts, Wilbur! I could’ve bled out in that alleyway.”
“You didn't.”
“Because I have friends! Do you know how long I spend avoiding making meaningful relationships because I was terrified? If that had happened maybe four months earlier, I wouldn’t have had anyone talking in my ear. I wouldn't have been letting them do that. And, they work so much. So yes, Wilbur, I very much could’ve bled out there. How does that feel? Knowing that one brother almost killed the other?”
Wilbur’s jaw clenched, and he sighed through his teeth, rubbing his face a hand, “What do you want us to do, apologize? Techno already did that. It’s in the past now, Tommy.”
“What, forgive and forget? That’s how you get killed, Wilbur.”
“We wouldn't kill you.”
Tommy bit his tongue, chest heaving in panic and anger and resent, “What is it you said, ‘ Maybe they should have you back? ’ You want to know the full extent of what Las Nevadas did to me, Wil? Look. Look at my arms, my wings, my head, my fucking neck! They clipped my wings, Wilbur. Don’t you pretend like I have no reason to be fucking pissed right now. Don’t you pretend like I have no reason to be scared. Don’t pretend like there’s no plausibility to that thought.”
“You made friends with us, Tommy.”
“Friends don’t threaten to give someone back to their abusers. Friends don't hurt each other.”
“Tommy, all we wanted was you back.”
“You had me,” He nodded, “You had me, but you fucked it up.”
“We didn’t know. ”
“That makes it better?” His voice pitched, tears silently crawling down his cheeks, “Wilbur, I- I spent half my life stuck in a fucking lab. Stuck being this experiment, I hardly saw the sun. I couldn't remember what- what it felt like. I gave up, you know? I thought that you would come, that someone would come, would help me. No one did. I got out of there, and I left behind several people that kept me from dying. That kept me from being fucking euthanized. ”
Wilbur made a wounded sound.
“That’s the word they used, you know. In the file, I mean. Euthanization. Euthanization, like I’m a fucking animal. So, go fuck yourself.”
“... I spent 11 years praying that we would get you again, Toms. You were- you are so important to us.”
“Then why is there nothing about me on the internet? No results for Thomas Oliver Minecraft. Do you have any idea how confusing that is?”
“The same reason there isn't any for Wilbur Minecraft, Tommy. Our last names, legally, are not Minecraft. You are legally a Soot. But, Minecraft is the name that Mum and Dad chose for us. Minecraft is our family.”
Tommy scoffed, “Great family. Where’s Dad, again? Techno? Mum?”
Wilbur’s eyes narrowed slightly, “Don't deflect.”
“I thought you were such a cool fucking person, Wilbur. I even liked Zephyrus, as much as a person could. But this? How could you ever think that this was a good idea? It was you that knocked me out, wasn’t it? The first time, I mean? I mean, the second time, too, but,” He shrugged, “You’re just the smartest fucking person.”
“Thomas!”
“What? You gonna hit me? Go ahead.”
Wilbur took a step backwards, face dropping, “Tommy-”
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“Tommy, I will never hit you,” Wilbur said, his hands held placatingly by his sides, “And if anyone does ever again, I will kill them.”
Tommy clenched his jaw, “What do you want, Wil? What is your goal in this?”
“To get you back. You’ve known my goal, Tommy. Get you back and burn the place to the ground. I’ve done one of those now.”
“Have you?” Tommy asked, “I mean, I’m here, but I hardly want to be. Let me go, Wilbur.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Why not? You want me here, sure, do you not want me to love you? Do you not want your- your little brother to love you, Wilbur?”
Wilbur made a face, “Read my mind, Tommy.”
He laughed scornfully, “Go fuck yourself.”
“You said you were a telepath. That’s true, yes?”
“Yes. Though you’d know that, I had no choice but to tell you.”
“And Theseus saying he was an empath, then?”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “They’re connected.”
“Then read my mind; what do I want, Tommy?”
Tommy took a heavy breath, black-grey wings curling around him.
“Come on darling, don’t tell me you’re too scared to.”
“Shut up!”
“Just a quick little peek, that’s all you’ll need.”
Tommy’s didn’t want to but- it was the only thing to do, yes? He didn’t know.
Wilbur’s brain was not unwelcoming. Quite the opposite, actually, it felt Tommy’s touch and wrapped him in a hug, pulling him deeper and warmer and deeper and-
“There you go, Tommy. What do you hear?”
His breath shook, “S’none of your fucking buisness, is it?”
“It’s my fucking brain? Whatever, that’s not the point. What do I want?”
Tommy clenched his teeth, thoughts not his own still prancing around his mind, running and hiding and- and playing pretend, making songs and giving songs and-
“Stop with the fucking sentimentality. I don’t want to hear that shit.”
Wilbur raised an eyebrow.
“You want to not feel like shit anymore, alright? Are you happy? You want- you want to be happy. So do fucking I, Wilbur, but the world doesn’t work like that. So, how about we sit down and talk about this, instead of you standing there looking like you’re about to pounce?”
“Talk about what Tommy? What is there to talk about? You’re home. ”
Tommy licked his lips, looking away from Wilbur. His wings fluttered slightly, “I was six, Wilbur. You fucking know this. My home is the one that I made. This? This isn’t home. This can’t be home, because I was gone for eleven fucking years, and I’m so fucking tired of watching over my shoulder, but I can’t stop. I’m seventeen, Wil. I spent seven years there. This can’t be home because I can’t have anywhere that I’m safe. That I’m consistently safe.”
Wilbur bit his tongue, “I don’t understand.”
“I hardly remember this. I hardly remember having a place where I was safe and happy. But you know what I do remember? I remember that- that security in knowing that someone would come find me. And then no one did.”
“We tried.”
“That doesn’t matter! Not really! Because I didn’t know that. I hardly knew anything other than what they told me, than what I had learned before. This can’t be home, Wil, because I don’t have one. Because I can’t have one. And I understand that you can’t understand that, but that’s the way it is for me. Oh, and just a piece of advice, kidnapping? That’s not the best way to get your little brother back.”
Wilbur sighed, “What can I say to make you understand why we need you here?”
“Well, for starters, you can get Phil to apologize for doing whatever the fuck he did to my brain. No idea what his power is, but,” He shook his head, “Wasn’t an awesome feeling.”
“He can look at memories.”
Tommy raised his eyebrows, humming mockingly.
Wilbur tilted his head, “You don’t seem surprised.”
“What? He’s my Dad, isn’t he? Not really that surprising that, what would it be, psychometry, would translate into telepathy, now is it?”
Wilbur sighed, “Look, Tommy-”
“Where’s Techno? And Niki?”
“Niki’s back at the cafe. Techno is- he’s out, at the moment.”
“Doing villain things, I suppose?”
“Oh, Tommy, no. He just- doesn’t like seeing you so- vulnerable.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because he was the one that realized that you, that Theseus, was our little brother. Don’t you realize? At the fire station, when you were talking? He nearly threw up, Tommy. Our brother, no matter how much pain he causes to other people, hates seeing our family in pain. And like you said, he nearly killed you.”
“So, what? That’s eating on his conscience?”
“Yeah.”
“Funny what guilt can do to a person, isn’t it?”
Wilbur glanced at the ground.
“You’d know, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I would.”
Tommy tilted his head at Wilbur, moving forward to sit on one of the couches. He sighed, “Wil, I… All I’ve ever wanted was a family. But- but you recreated the exact thing that took me away from mine. You can see why I’m hurt, why that confuses me, can’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“You want your little brother back. I want my family back. That takes time,” He shook his head, smiling bitterly, “That takes time. I can’t just come back- home. I don’t know you anymore. I hardly know you. I want to know you.”
Wilbur sat on the couch opposite Tommy, “Okay. Okay, we can do that.”
“Can you?”
Wilbur’s breath hitched for half a second, “Yes.”
“Can you?” Tommy repeated.
“We’re going to have to, aren’t we?”
“Can you accept that?”
Wilbur’s eyes met Tommy’s, something like regret seeping through the thin barrier he had built, “Yes.”
“Okay.”
----
Techno was not having a good day.
Though, to be fair, Techno hardly had good days.
And also, good was subjective, as Theseus would say. Tommy would say.
Yeah, no, it was definitely a bad day.
The knife felt heavy in Techno’s hand. Heavier than normal, at least.
The garnets encrusted in the pommel shone under the light.
Techno frowned, thumbing the gemstones.
He sighed, placing it beside him.
He really didn't want to deal with it.
Running away from his problems was a sure way to avoid them, yup. It would absolutely not blow up in his face.
He slapped a hand over his eyes, lying back onto his bed.
His twin brother was downstairs. So was Tommy, his little brother.
Theseus, his little brother.
His little brother, alive and home.
His little brother alive, no thanks to him.
A discontent rumble rolled through his chest.
How did he even look Tommy in the eyes again?
How did he look Tommy in the eyes knowing that he had left his little brother for dead?
The steel blade of the knife shimmered under the warm lights.
How did he live with himself knowing that he could’ve killed one of his sounder?
Theseus had accepted his apology, with blood stained hands and a dead body behind him, and Theseus was Tommy.
And yet, they were still so separate in his mind.
So separate, despite the fact that Techno knew. That Techno had suspected and yet he hadn't done anything. And that was killing him.
He took a breath, middle and pointer fingers finding the spot on his opposite wrist where he could feel his heart beat.
Techno nearly killed his brother and the sun still shone through his window.
The wind still blew and the birds still sung.
Life went on.
The sky didn’t cry when his mother died.
Would it have if Tommy had?
Would the world pause and mourn a child killed by his own brother?
And would Techno be selfish to wish that it would?
Would Techno be selfish to wish that the world would pause and mourn when he did?
Would it be wrong for him to hope that, just once, the world would pause and mourn the loss of both innocence and innocents? To hope that the birds would quiet and the sky would darken? That the world would scream its pain as he did?
It never did.
The world kept turning.
The next day came.
And Tommy was on the floor below him, talking to Wilbur.
And Techno was lying on his bed, breathing and feeling his heart beat in his chest and mourning something he never thought he would.
Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe Techno was selfish.
He curled his lip at the thought.
The clock changed to 5:49.
Maybe Techno had almost killed Tommy for saying something that was true.
Bile climbed his throat.
He took a deep breath, interlacing his fingers and placing them on his chest.
It was cold in the house.
None of them liked the cold.
----
Wilbur felt sick.
He was a fucking idiot, wasn’t he?
How could both he and Techno suspect that Tommy was their little brother and then fucking kidnap him? How had that been a good plan? How had that even been a plan?
He sighed, rubbing his eyes.
He was so tired.
And Tommy was sitting in front of him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, waiting for Wilbur to speak.
God, Wilbur wanted to pitch himself off a cliff, Tommy was right to be mad.
Tommy had every right to be fucking pissed at them.
And Wilbur should have definitely expected him to have been. But he didn’t. And now they were in this situation.
Tommy’s golden hair shone under the lighting, and Wilbur fought the urge to braid it.
Tommy blinked expectantly.
Wilbur took a deep breath, something similar to a whine climbing up his throat.
He had wanted his little brother to be back home for so long.
He just had to wait a bit longer.
A bit longer, and Tommy would be ready to come back home.
And they would be all together again.
At least, as together as their family could be again.
----
Phil was an easily pleased man.
Smile at him, he’ll smile back.
Offer him a compliment, and he won’t easily forget that.
Hold the door for him, he’ll pay for your coffee.
Phil was also very commited to repaying debts, whatever they may be.
So with his youngest son finally sitting in his living room again, he felt very content with sending Jack and Niki out looking for Quackity.
His fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over a document Ranboo had printed out for Wil that he knew Wil wouldn’t go over.
It was well done, he’d admit. Ranboo was extremely intelligent, though that was to be expected when one of his best friends was Tommy.
Tommy, even as a tiny chick, had always been very smart, very oriented around logic and intelligence.
Kristen had always just told him to slow down, that he’d have time for all of that in the future.
Tommy never had.
And then they were both gone and-
The pen in Phil’s hand snapped.
He took a deep breath, dropping the two pieces into the garbage and standing to wash the ink off of the palm of his hand.
Phil still had time, too.
His chicks were all at home and he wasn’t.
He should go home.
He would tell Kristen he had gotten their boy back first.
----
Tommy’s hands gripped the rail too tightly, skin stark white with the force.
The wind bit at his cheeks, sharp and cold.
He was tired.
He was so very tired.
He sighed, welcoming the cold air as it scratched at his throat, filling his lungs.
He was alive.
It would be so easy to jump.
It would be so easy to make it seem like an accident.
His wings were weak. It would seem like he just didn’t realize how tired he was and they just gave out on him.
It would be a shame.
It would be such a shame.
He exhaled, breath crystallizing in the cold air.
Another gust of wind blew, brushing through his hair, turning his ears bright red.
His next breath was shaky, hands twisting on the railing.
His breath still crystallized as he exhaled.
The wind still blew.
The world still turned.
He pulled himself onto the ledge.
The stars still shone.
The cars still drove by.
The freezing water churned below him.
It would be so easy.
He inhaled, the cold biting at his throat.
He closed his eyes, hands held tight onto the edge of the concrete.
He exhaled.
The stars still shone.
He kicked his feet.
He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, swung himself back onto the bridge.
He still had things to do.
Yeah, he still had things to do.
----
“Phil, this has made me ambitious! Phil, if I’m going back there, I will be ambitious, Phil. That’s what I’m saying, let me blow it up,” Wilbur looked about five seconds away from collapsing, the bags under his eyes making an appearance and his voice begging, honeyed just enough to get away with, “Let me destroy it all. Let me make them beg for death. Let me make them hurt!”
“Wil, mate, we can’t just-”
“They hurt Theseus! They hurt your chick, my little brother!”
“I know that, Wilbur! I know that better than anyone, but does your bloodlust outweigh the need to keep him safe? Because I fucking guarantee you- guarantee you, Wilbur, you will scare him and he will run.”
“But we know who he is now! We can get him back so easily!”
“Do you hear yourself? You sound fucking-” Phil groaned, “You can’t just kidnap him to get him back. I want Quackity and his people to burn more than anything, I crave their blood against my hands, but more than that, I want my son to feel safe around me.”
“Phil, please-”
“That’s enough, Wilbur,” Techno said, pushing himself off of the wall and slinking towards his twin, “They are not your kills to claim. Neither of youse.”
“They need to burn!”
“And they will!” Techno matched Wilbur’s tone, stepping closer as his twin did (a silent challenge neither would take the other up on), “And they will, but we will not be the ones to light the match. That will be Theseus. They took him . They hurt him. He wants them gone as much as we do, that much is easy to tell, but we cannot take what is rightfully his.”
“He’s seventeen, you can’t just-”
“You were fifteen the first time you killed someone,” Phil said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “As much as I hate it, if he wants the kills, they should be his. We cannot take the opportunity from him.”
Wilbur huffed.
“You will watch them burn, Wil. You will take part in tearing the place apart, but it is not yours to start.”
“Fine,” He said, nails digging into his hands, “Fine.”
Notes:
so. the part where wilbur says, "there you go, tommy. what do you hear?" i was so tempted to put "why the fuck is road trip by dream playing?"
would it have flowed? no. made any sense? no. be funny? fuck yes.happy holidays!!!! have a good day wherever you are!!!!
Chapter 11: I Know Who You Are Now
Summary:
With this, we began: Tommy Innit, despite his arrogance surrounding them, hated his abilities.
With this, we end off: Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there; I did not die.
Notes:
i got a 96 in my english class. what the fuck. also, no excuses, I'm just a dumbass who can't write when i set off the time to, but can at 12am when i should be sleeping.
song lyrics from 'for now' by leith ross
the poem line is from the poem 'do not stand at my grave and weep' by mary elizabeth frye
TW// implied/referenced child neglect and abuse, referenced murder and violence
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
My first week back at school,
I went to the hospital because my spine was inflamed,
My family made the drive at 1 o’clock at night,
To bring me home again,
A couple months went by, I would often cry,
Told my parents when I stopped avoiding calls,
They surprised me then, said they would drive again if I needed nothing more than to feel like I was small
----
A boy was playing in the front yard of his house.
His mother and father were fighting again, screaming audible even outside.
He fell onto the grass, staring at the clouds and exhaling in boredom.
“Hi,” A girl said from somewhere behind him, “Um, can I play with you?”
He pushed himself onto his elbows, looking over at the girl, “I’m not really playing anything right now, but sure.”
She smiled, “I’m Kristin.”
He tilted his head at her, smiling back, “I’m Philza.”
----
So I’ll stay for now,
Cause I’m tired out,
But there’s something bout the snow
----
Kristin laughed, “Come on, you’re not seriously scared?”
“Listen- listen, I’ve never skated before!”
“Which is why I want to teach you. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Phil looked at her, eyes wide, “I have blades on my feet. How, exactly, does that sound like fun?”
“Okay, soon you’re gonna look at me and I’ll be saying, ‘I told you so.’ Do you truly want that, Phil?”
“Kristin- Kristin, you’re amazing. I love you. There’s no fucking way you’re getting me on that ice.”
She sighed, “Please? Pretty please?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “What’ll I even get out of it?”
“The ability to skate. Come on, it’s so much fun.”
He bit his tongue, “Okay, fine. Fine, but if I’m falling, I’m dragging you down with me.”
“Deal.”
----
I guess I’ll stay for now,
Just till I make it out,
Until I say that I no longer wanna go
----
Phil stood outside of Kristin’s house, hand raised to knock.
He paused, sighing.
She deserved a goodbye, he knew she did, but-
But how did he say goodbye to her? To his best friend?
The door opened as he dropped his hand.
“No, but- Phil?”
“Kristin! Hey.”
“Uh, listen, I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” She tilted her head as she looked at Phil, dropping her phone from beside her ear and hanging up, “Is everything alright, Phil?”
“Mum’s moving,” He said, looking away from her, “She told me this morning and we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you moving to?”
“I don’t know. Small town like five hours away.”
“Oh. Is- is your schedule gonna change, then?”
“I don’t know. They tend not to tell me anything. Probably, though. God knows Dad would be fine with having me less.”
Kristin frowned, twisting one of the rings she wore, “So then, this is goodbye?”
Phil opened his mouth and then paused, sighing. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, glancing from him to the ground, “Any chance you need help packing?”
Phil raised an eyebrow, “Weren’t you just about to go somewhere?”
“That can wait.”
Phil looked at her, something like fondness or regret on his face, “Then I guess I do.”
----
I asked my friend last night,
If he wouldn’t mind driving an hour outside of town,
He came to pick me up,
Didn’t make me talk at all,
Dropped me off, said goodnight, and turned around
----
The twins were two when he met them.
He had walked outside, a backpack thrown over his shoulder when a child ran into his leg.
“Oh, hello,” He looked around, “Where’s your-”
“Techno!” A black-haired woman turned the corner from behind a large hedge, carrying a brown-haired toddler, “God, I’m- Phil?”
The man looked up as the toddler ran to the woman, hiding behind her legs, “Kristin?”
“I thought you- I didn’t know you had come back.”
He shrugged, glancing between the toddler in her arms and the toddler peeking out from behind her legs, “Old man bit the dust. Figured it made more sense to stay in a paid-off house than an apartment. S’only a half hour from my school.”
“Huh,” She said as the toddler she was holding pulled at a strand of her hair. Her head tilted as he pulled it harshly, “Hey, Wil, no.”
Phil tilted his head slightly.
“You can ask, y’know.”
“I don’t know what-”
She rolled her eyes, “They’re mine, Phil. Everyone asks.”
“That seems a little rude.”
She tilted her head, a hand moving to rest on the head of the toddler still hiding behind her, “How’ve you been, Phil?”
He shrugged, “Still alive, aren’t I?”
“Yes, I guess you are,” She glanced back at her house, “I would invite you in, but I’m guessing you’re just on your way to class.”
“You’d be right, there.”
She bit her cheek, “Are you busy Friday night?”
“Not at all,” Phil lied. (He had been invited to a party that night. Kristin was more important.)
“Any chance you’d want to go out with me?”
“I think I’d like that more than anything.”
----
So I’ll stay for now,
Cause I’m tired out,
But there’s something bout the snow,
I guess I’ll stay for now,
Just till I make it out,
Until I say that I no longer wanna go
----
“I don’t think Techno likes me,” Phil said, turning to his girlfriend.
She laughed, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, he like- runs every time he sees me. Am I scary? I don’t think I’m scary. Am I, Kris?”
She smiled, biting her cheeks, “No, you’re not. Techno is- well he’s scared of new things.”
Phil raised an eyebrow.
“He’s piglin, Phil.”
He tilted his head, eyebrow still raised.
She dropped her head into her hands, words mumbled as she said, “Fuck’s sake, Phil.”
He laughed, “Well, it just sounds like you meant-”
She slapped a hand over his mouth, “No, shut up. But Techno loves you.”
He sighed, “Are you sure? I just- I don’t wanna be someone your kids are scared of.”
She grabbed his hand, holding it between hers, “Look, Phil.”
He met her eyes, face furrowed slightly, “Kristin, I-”
“ I am giving you permission, Phil. Look and see.”
“I don’t like looking at your memories, Kris. I struggle with controlling it.”
“Phil, I am telling you to look. You’re not gonna believe me otherwise.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am absolutely positive.”
“100 percent, Kris? Because I still- I’m still not great with it. I might, like- slip, see something you don’t want me to.”
“Phil, I trust you. And I am 100 percent certain that you can look at my memories. 100 percent, Phil.”
He took a breath, “Okay.”
----
I don’t wanna go, though I can’t see it I don’t wanna go,
Repeat,
Till I believe it
----
“Momma,” Techno said, pulling on her pant leg, “Momma, where Phil?”
“He’s at school, sunshine.”
“Boo,” He stuck out his tongue, crossing his arms.
“Why, do you miss him, or something?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?” Kristin asked, picking him up.
“... Yes.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that, darling.”
Techno stuck his tongue out at her.
She faked a gasp, “Oh my goodness, how could you, Techno? My old heart! Oh no!” She said, one arm holding Techno while the other grasped her chest.
Techno’s little face scrunched up, “No, no, Momma! No, no!”
“No, what, Techno?”
His chest vibrated with something akin to a purr, “Momma no hurt.”
“What about Phil, darling?” She asked, moving towards the couch, kicking a few toys to the side.
Techno frowned.
“Phil no hurt?” She asked.
“Phil no hurt,” He nodded.
“Do you like Phil, Techno? Is he good?”
“Momma good.”
“What about Phil?”
Techno tilted his head to the side, debating. Eventually, he nodded, “Phil good.”
“Do you like Phil?” She asked, sitting down on the couch, drawing her fingers through his brown hair.
He huffed, frowning, “Phil good.”
Kristin mimicked his huff, adding a small rattle at the end.
Techno smiled, giggling, hiding his face in her shoulder.
----
So I’ll stay for now,
Till I’m tired out,
Cause there’s something bout the snow
----
“I don't know how to do this, Kris,” Phil said, turning to glance at where his sons watched from a distance, “I don't know how to- to continue. What do I do, Kris? How do I proceed? What's my next move?” He licked his lips, “Everyone’ll know soon enough that you’ve died. That something’s happened, at least. You were what kept us safe all this time. I just- I need a minute to fucking think, but I don't have the time to spare.”
A crow landed on the grass next to him.
He took a breath, “I miss you so much.”
There was no gravestone marking her grave, yet. There was no gravestone marking his son’s grave yet, either.
It was an odd thing, that.
It was understandable, kind of, that something meant to nearly immortalize a person should take time because it’s being taken care of, but still. There was no gravestone.
----
I guess I’ll stay for now,
Just till I make it out,
Until I say that I no longer wanna go
----
So, there was a story; a story of friendship and adoration, but this is not that story. That one, perhaps, is for another time.
This one goes a bit differently; a time ago, a distance away, there was a child. There was a mother, a father and two brothers, but they are not the focus. This child, a third brother, is.
With this, we began: Tommy Innit, despite his arrogance surrounding them, hated his abilities.
With this, we end off: Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there; I did not die.
----
Tommy blinked, staring at the wall of Philza’s office.
“What is this?” He asked, finally.
“This,” Techno said, fingers tapping on his thigh, “Is everything.”
“I can see that. I meant why? ”
Techno sighed, “You underestimate people’s love, Tommy.”
“... Maybe.” He shuffled, wrapping his arms around himself, “I want you to know this is creepy as fuck.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no ‘maybe' about it,” Tommy said, laughing slightly, “It just is .”
“Eh.”
Tommy sniffed, looking at a ripped picture pinned in the middle of all the papers.
Techno was standing bent over, chin resting on someone’s golden blonde hair, though that someone had been ripped out of the picture. He had a party hat sitting on top of his brown hair and he was smiling in the picture, missing a tusk on one side of his mouth.
Wilbur was leaning against him, wearing a yellow sweatshirt. His eyes were almost closed, and there were more black veins marking his face than normal. He was also wearing a party hat.
There was a woman beside them, kissing the side of Wil’s head. She was wearing a purple dress, and her black hair was pulled back into a braid.
“I have the rest of that,” He said.
Techno hummed questioningly.
“That picture,” He pointed, “I have it.”
Techno looked from him to it, pulling it off the wall, “How?”
“It was- in the file Las Nevadas had on me.”
Techno took a deep breath, looking at the ripped picture, “You told us that. In your letter to Wil. Zephyrus, whatever. You said that they took a picture of you at your birthday party.”
“Yeah.”
“... I'm sorry,” Techno said, “I'm so sorry, Tommy.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“You know, the day- the day it happened, I didn't know how to react. We were gone for an hour, max.” Techno’s thumb brushed over his mother’s face, “You would’ve come with us, a week later. Mom would’ve come with us, had it been a week later. But it was that stupid day, and Wil and I needed to return our books to the library, and you didn't and- and we got back home and you were gone and Mom was dead and- and Henry was just on the floor. You never let Henry be on the floor. He was too good for the floor, you said.”
“Who’s Henry?”
Techno sniffled, turning and opening a drawer on Phil’s desk. He pulled out a stuffed cow, “This is Henry.”
“It’s a plushie.”
“Yes, he is.”
“... I named him Henry?”
“Momma named him. You said it was stupid, but… she named him, so you went with it.”
Tommy laughed lightly. He took Henry from Techno, looking at him for a second, “What was she like? Mum?”
“She was… good. She was great, actually. She, um, she would have given up everything for us. I mean, she did. When me and Wil were younger, before you, she did everything for us. Lived and- well, died.” He sighed, “She would be so happy you’re okay.”
He scoffed, “Am I?”
“I'd like to hope so.”
“I'm not, for the record, I don't think. I mean, I’m alive.”
Techno hummed, tilting his head, “Then she’d be glad you're alive. Over everything, she'd be glad you're alive so that you can learn to be okay. And she would do everything to help you get there.”
“I miss her. I hardly remember her, but I miss her so much that sometimes it hurts, Techno.”
“I know. I do too.”
“How do- how do you get over that?”
“Why is it you keep coming to me for advice?”
“I don't know.” He snorted, “You were there the first time I killed someone, so. S’just a little more vulnerable, y’know?”
“Wow. Okay, I see. Just a right place, right time, sort of job?”
Tommy shrugged, biting back a smile, “I guess.”
“Alright, then.” Techno sat down in Phil’s desk chair, leaning his elbows against the desk and clearing his throat, “I’d say… you just gotta feel it. Let it burn through you and let it hurt. You accomplish nothing by pushing it down, and it’ll come back, but- healing’s an ongoing process.”
“You are… shockingly insightful.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“Hm.” Tommy walked to the window, fiddling with his fingers, “You should. Maybe. I don't know.”
“Thanks for the comfort, Toms.”
“No problem.”
Techno spun a ring around his finger, leaning back in his dad’s chair, “We should talk about it.”
“What?”
“Quackity and the rest of his butcher boys.”
Tommy snorted, turning to look at him, “Butcher boys?”
Techno shrugged, “Felt appropriate.”
“Yeah, I'm not so sure.”
Tommy turned back to the window, looking down at the cow plushie in his hands. There was a speck of red stained onto one of the ears, but it was very clean, otherwise. The white was white, and it was fluffy and-
It shouldn’t have been fluffy. Fluffy meant it hadn’t been held and it was over a decade old and so it should have been held, but Tommy hadn’t been there to hold it.
“Quackity took a lot from me,” He said, “And sometimes it feels like I’ll never get back everything that he took, and maybe that’s true, but- but, in the end, he’s the one that will lose. He’s the one that will have his heart ripped from him and he will die with that pain. He’s the one that will die.”
“You’re ready, then?”
“... I asked you once why you named yourselves after the Anemoi when there were only three of you.”
“You did.”
“I'm why, aren't I? You left-” He licked his lips, “You left Eurus for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Techno crossed his arms, “It's a title that’s yours for the taking, should you want it.”
And Tommy froze for a second, because what did that mean for him? An opportunity? Starting again, starting over?
… Being a villain?
He didn't know.
“Why do you do this, Techno?”
“Do what?”
Tommy turned, gesturing at the wall, “That. Being Notos. Why do you- why do you do that?”
“I- don't know. It's just always- been, I guess. I never wanted to be a hero, and I knew that Phil wasn’t, but I didn't know how much he wasn't until I did. And then I guess it just… I guess it just became my future. My present. Wilbur died and Phil froze and I killed the motherfucker.”
“Okay, but why do you do it now?”
Techno shrugged, “There are things that we do that aren't good, Tommy, you know that. We’re not- we’re not good. You don't get the reputation we have without being a little bit- violent, I suppose, but that's one of the few ways to make people listen. One of the very few universal languages. We get things done and this is the most efficient way to do it.”
Tommy looked at Techno nodding, “I want the name. I do. I want what the name means.” I want family, he didn’t say.
I want devotion, he meant.
“But?” Techno prompted.
“I’ve made something for myself as Theseus.” Tommy sighed, “I created a sort of amicability. People trust me, Techno. And I just- I don't know how I can give that up.”
“Maybe it's not necessary to give it up.”
“What?”
“You remember Adrestia?”
“Of course. She was amazing.”
“She’s Ceto, now.”
“Yeah?” Tommy asked, not following.
“She- she was a vigilante and then was given a position as a hero. But that position came with a name change, and sure that changed the way she was perceived slightly, but she still has that trust.”
“It's a bit different going from vigilante to hero than it is vigilante to villain.”
“Is it? I mean, if people trust you, then they'd trust that you'd have a reason for it, wouldn't they?”
“Maybe. Or maybe everyone would hate me.”
Techno tilted his head, shrugging, “True. But that’s only one option. You don't have to be Eurus. You can stay Theseus. Or, you could neither. Or both.”
“Both?”
“Oh yeah, get that double life thing going. You get a different get-up, who’s gonna know that our fourth is their darling Theseus?”
Tommy hummed, rubbing his thumb over the stuffed cow's head.
“You don't have to do anything, Tommy.”
He did, though. There were so many things he still had to do before he could stop. There were still so many relationships he had to fix and so many holes he had to mend. Tommy was couldn’t stop. Not now, and maybe not ever.
He was so tired.
----
Tommy’s hands shook as he stood on the roof, overlooking the building that Quackity had walked into several minutes prior.
He took a breath, looking over at Wilbur, who wasn’t wearing his mask. The man sat on the roof, back against the ledge with his eyes closed.
Tommy looked at Techno, gesturing at Wilbur in question.
Techno shrugged, “S’just something he does. Calms him down, I guess.”
“Your twin’s fucking weird.”
“Am I?” Wil asked, tapping his fingers against his thigh.
“Yes. Yes, you are.”
He snorted, “Come here.”
Tommy glanced at Techno, who tilted his head, shooing him towards Wilbur.
Phil leaned against the ledge, using his hand to cover his smile, despite it already being covered by his mask.
He sighed in defeat, sitting down with his legs crossed in front of Wil.
“You’re shaking, Tommy.”
“Am I?” He clasped his hands together, “Must be the adrenaline, big man.”
“I'm not so sure.” Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s hands, “It’s alright to be scared, Toms.”
“Me? I'm not scared. You’re scared.”
“I am scared, you’re right.”
“That… didn't go the way I was expecting.”
Wilbur snorted, “Of course, I’m scared, Tommy. I'm always scared before going out. I'm scared that something'll happen to Techno or Dad. Or you. I'm scared that it’ll be the time that I'm not able to stay a step ahead of everyone else. That I’ll never see Niki or Jack or- or Sally, again.”
Phil looked up, “Sally?”
“No one.”
“Wil’s girlfriend.” Techno crossed his arms.
“You have a girlfriend?”
“No! I- she’s just- we’re friends. We're not dating.”
“That's not what Niki made it sound like. Thanks for that, by the way. Tell Niki all about her but not me.”
“Oh, come on! You know what you’re like around my-”
“What, so you are dating?”
“We are… talking.”
Techno snorted.
Wilbur rolled his eyes, turning back to Tommy, amused and frustrated and scared and-
“You’ve died before,” Tommy said, suddenly.
Wil glanced at Techno, laughing awkwardly, “I mean- yeah?”
Tommy looked up at Techno, “And you killed the person that killed him.”
“Uh-” Techno straightened slightly, “I told you that.”
“You did.”
Phil tapped his fingers against his thigh, walking a few steps backwards.
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, “How- I mean, was it hard?”
Wilbur glanced at Phil then back to Tommy. He sighed, “It’s easy. Really easy, actually, to just let go. It's a lot harder to hold on. To keep going.”
“Okay.” Tommy rolled his shoulders, “Yeah, okay.”
“Tommy,” Wilbur squeezed his hand, “You- You’re not gonna die, okay? We're not letting that happen.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Uh, guys?” Techno asked.
Wilbur hummed, rubbing circles on Tommy’s wrist with his thumb.
“Sapnap’s here.”
“What?” Tommy stood, almost falling over immediately.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
“Your guess is as good as anyone else’s, Wil,” Phil said, kneeling on the ground as he stared at the hero.
“Wait, shut up.” Tommy held a hand toward them, closing his eyes as he felt towards Sapnap.
He flinched upon feeling the man’s mind, anger and fear and determination. So, so much determination.
“What is it?”
“... I can’t tell,” Tommy admitted, “I mean, he’s so… conflicted. Confused. He doesn't even know what he’s feeling. But he’s angry. And determined. Really fucking determined.”
The door of the building opened from the inside, and Tommy felt towards Sapnap again.
“I keep getting flashes of words, but he’s- he’s better at hiding his thoughts than most. I can’t really-” Tommy flinched back.
“What? Tommy, what’d you see?”
“He’s talking to Quackity. I don't understand. He- I don't understand,” He repeated.
“He’s warning him,” Techno said, ear twitching, “Some of the heroes are gonna come. Fireboy, over there, is giving Quackity the option to go quietly.”
“Oh, not a chance,” Wil hissed, hands turning white with his grip on the roof ledge.
“Shut up, Wilbur.” Techno turned his head slightly, ear twitching again, “You remember a Karl, Tommy?”
“Oh,” Tommy said, quietly. He placed his thumb against his wrist, closing his eyes, “He would be the other, then. I met him once, in passing. He was… weird. Really weird.”
“Meaning?”
“I don't know.” Tommy shrugged, opening his eyes to glance at him, “Off-putting. Not in a creepy way, but like, in a… I don't know. He was just strange.”
“Okay, uh, blah, blah, blah. Karl wouldn't want this, Quackity. Please, let me help you. Blah, blah, blah. There's nothing important in what he’s saying.” Techno looked at Phil, shrugging a shoulder.
“Hm. Tommy, how comfortable are you with being a distraction?”
“Pardon?”
“Just for a second,” Phil clarified, “Tech’ll be watching your back.”
“Hey, listen, I can't read minds,” Tommy said, ignoring Wilbur's snort, “What d’you want me to do, Phil?”
“Draw Sapnap away. We can't do shit with him here and he doesn't know you.”
“Um. Actually…”
“What.”
“Y’know that day a while back when I fought Dream?” Techno tugged on the end of his braid awkwardly.
“The storm?”
“Yeah. Uh. Sapnap was there. Tommy fought him.”
“You let Tommy fight Sapnap?”
“To be fair, Sapnap kind of ambushed us. Techno was already, like, fighting Dream. His shadows tried to protect me.”
Wilbur inhaled sharply, “That’s how you got that burn.”
“What burn?”
“Nothing,” Tommy said, “Nevermind. Sapnap knows Theseus. Theseus’ got a specific style. Wil, switch masks with me. Also, give me your coat.”
“What? No.”
“Would you rather distract him?”
“I’d rather not risk anything.”
Phil sighed deeply, “Wil, we don’t know if we have the time to spare, waiting it out.”
“Dad-”
“Wil, enough. Tommy’s lived this long, he’s not dying anytime soon. But we need Sapnap gone in order for this to pan out.”
Wilbur clenched his teeth, cracking his knuckles one by one. He held his mask out to Tommy begrudgingly, shrugging his coat off.
A few minutes later, Tommy was climbing down the building’s fire escape, nose scrunching under the weird material of Wil’s mask.
Techno followed behind him, minus his cape, sword and mask, hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly as he walked down the stairs.
Tommy jumped to the ground, glancing around the alleyway. He turned to Techno, eyes catching on the man’s necklace.
“How attached are you to your jewellery?”
“What?”
“I mean, if I were to say, steal some, how pissed would you be?”
Techno raised an eyebrow, lifting his hands behind his neck, “I mean, I guess it depends. Some of my jewellery is pretty expensive and I really hate replacing it,” He held out the chain towards Tommy, “Especially family heirlooms. They’re exceptionally tough.”
Tommy smiled, “Give me two seconds, then follow. Oh, and knock over the rubbish or something. Make noise. For once.”
Techno rolled his eyes as Tommy ran out of the alley, kicking over one of the bins as he went.
He followed in a light jog, “Hey! Get back here, brat!”
He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, looking from side to side seemingly frantically before turning and running after Tommy.
“Get back here! That’s my stuff, dude!”
Tommy turned, facing Techno while running backwards, passing Sapnap. He stuck his middle finger up and Techno shook his head, speeding up slightly.
Sapnap turned away from Quackity, facing Techno. He held his hands out, stopping the man, “Whoa, what happened?”
“Thief,” Techno said, pointing, speeding up his breathing, “He’s a thief, he stole my necklace.”
Sapnap glanced from Techno to Tommy running away and then to Quackity before sighing, shaking his head and turning to run after Techno’s brother.
Techno glanced at Quackity, who raised an eyebrow at him before turning and walking into the building. He looked over his shoulder to the building where his dad and brother were watching.
Phil gave him a thumbs up before shooing him in Tommy's direction.
Wilbur was standing with his arms crossed, and he looked rather uncomfortable with Techno’s sword strapped on his back.
Tommy screamed suddenly, and Techno turned, running and sending a shadow ahead of him.
Techno skidded around the corner to see Tommy perched on top of a lamppost, wings flapping to balance himself. Techno’s necklace was lying on the ground a few feet from where Sapnap stood, hands flaming.
“Get down!” The hero yelled, “What you're doing is illegal!”
“Trying not to fall and break a fucking leg?” Tommy yelled back, incredulous.
Techno’s shadow sat in a building’s shadow, green eyes watching Tommy’s wings move.
“No, you-” Sapnap waved his hands, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t like fire, Fireboy! Kind of freaks me out!”
Techno glanced behind him, watching as someone crossed the street, hardly sparing a glance at the two. The person continued walking, not caring. He looked back, watching as Tommy's foot slid slightly.
“Get down here!”
“Only if you promise to put the fire away.”
“What, you want a fucking pinky promise?”
“If you’ll give me one,” Tommy said, holding his hand out with his pinky extended.
“Are you always this annoying?”
Tommy shrugged, hands gripping tight onto the pole as he shuffled closer towards the end, “My flatmates would say so.”
Sapnap took a step backwards as Tommy dropped off the pole: “Who are you?” He asked, fingers smoking slightly.
“Uh. Name’s Eurus.”
“... Eurus?”
Tommy laughed lightly, “Yeah, last I checked.”
Sapnap glanced around them, fingers smoking even more, “Remind me who Eurus is?”
Tommy smiled, “Nah.”
“Right, okay. He’s not one of the Winds, is he?”
“Do you seriously have to ask that question?” Tommy asked, hand waving, “You’re a hero in a world where quite a few people take up mythological names and you don’t know your mythology?”
Sapnap lifted his head slightly, “So you come out of hiding, why? What are you planning?”
He laughed, “Who says I’m planning anything? Maybe I just wanted to meet a hero.”
“That’s likely.”
“You’re right. If I wanted to meet a hero, it’d be Adrestia.”
“She’s Ceto, now. She was Adrestia when she was-”
“A vigilante, I know. Weird how a name change can shape the way a person’s perceived, isn't it?”
There was a pause as Sapnap froze, thinking, “You weren’t hiding before, were you?”
“No, I was not. Your ex-fiancé’s a bitch, by the way. You too, taking a sword he made directly after calling it off? You gotta be cold-hearted. I will admit, though, it’s a beautiful sword, I should hang it on my wall.”
“... You’re Theseus.”
“Yay! You got there!”
“What are you doing? You said you were acquaintances with Notos.”
“Yeah? Relationships tend to change over time, you know.”
“I could tell everyone,” Sapnap said, glancing side to side.
“Could you? Would they believe you? How could their darling Theseus become someone so- so bad when he constantly helps people? How could their darling Theseus be bad when he helps clean up areas that the heroes don’t?”
Sapnap glowered, “Oh, fuck off.”
Tommy huffed, taking a step forward, “You know it’s true, don’t you? People like me so much more than they like you.”
The hero’s hand twitched, and Techno watched as it started smoking more, “You could be so much more, Theseus. You could be a hero, if you just stop this.”
“That’s the thing; I never wanted to be a hero. I know why I do what I do, and I know exactly how illegal what I do is. What about you? Why are you a hero?”
“To help people.”
“Oh, well me too. The thing is, my reason for helping people, for stopping others, is entirely selfish. To bring me my own peace of mind. I couldn’t be a hero, I wouldn’t have the motivation. But good for you, Sapnap. I’m glad to see you running around the lower districts helping, for once.”
Sapnap clenched his fists, fire flickering as he glanced away.
“Oh, you’re not here to help people, are you? You’re here to warn someone in advance of a raid. Not very heroic of you.”
“How do you-”
“I have ears everywhere,” Tommy said, offhandedly, hand waving as though inconsequential.
Sparks dropped from Sapnap’s hands as the flames grew, nearly burning through his sleeves, “Why’d you steal?”
Tommy hummed, tilting his head mockingly, “I liked the way the necklace looked.”
“What are you planning?”
“Currently? How I’m gonna cheat on my next test.”
“You know what I fucking meant!”
“Did I?” Tommy asked, rubbing his chin as though in thought, “Oh, I did! Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t typically plan things. Just kind of wing it, all the time.”
Sapnap made a sound close to a growl, hand swinging out towards Tommy, throwing flames.
Tommy ducked, sidestepping and picking up the dropped necklace, “What the fuck, man! That was so rude!” The necklace swung as Tommy threw his hands to the side, glancing at Techno.
The thrown fire caught on some dropped leaves, burning and smoking a dark grey.
Tommy looked at them, lips parted slightly in thought. He held his hands up, palms facing Sapnap as he slowly stepped closer to the burning leaves.
The man watched, jaw clenched, flames spinning around his outstretched hand.
“Listen, Sapnap, man,” Tommy said, face scrunching as smoke blew into his eyes, “I don’t want to fight. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why then?”
“I’m here because you, Sapnap, are a fucking traitor to your oath and your people.” Tommy bent down, hand swiping the smoking leaves at the hero’s face. He looked to Techno, waving his hand towards the shadow beside him before running into Sapnap, smashing his shoulder into the man’s and continuing towards the building opposite him, clambering up onto a second-storey balcony.
Sapnap hissed, hands rubbing at his eyes, smacking leaves off of his suit. He turned, “Where the fuck did you go, you little-” He paused as the shadows surrounding him darkened, seemingly lengthening as they did. He spun in a full circle, “Where are you, Notos?”
Techno didn’t respond, stepping further back into his own darkened corner.
“Come on!” Sapnap yelled, laughing slightly, flames crawling up his arms, “Are you scared?”
Techno bit back a response, glancing up at where Tommy hid. He tapped the head of the shadow next to him, watching as it disappeared and then reappeared in the darkness behind Sapnap.
“Come on!” Sapnap yelled, again, voice quieter, almost hopeful, “Come on! Just fight me, Notos!”
Techno stumbled as the ground underneath him cracked, shadows returning to their previous lightness.
“Error!” Sapnap called to his teammate, “How good to see you!”
“Stop messing around, Sap,” The second hero hissed from where he stood on a rooftop, “And stop taunting villains.”
Techno stilled, watching as Tommy popped into view on the balcony, and forced himself not to move.
“Oh, come on!”
“We have bigger things to worry about, presently. Things for which you’re needed, let’s go.”
“Error! Come on, have some fun, for once.”
“I do have fun,” The man said, ripping up a piece of pavement and stepping onto it once it reached his height.
“What, when you’re sleeping?” Sapnap asked, walking towards him as Error stepped onto solid ground.
“Whenever you’re not around.”
“Ouch,” He said, “I’m hurt.”
“Good.”
“Give me more time, Error,” Sapnap said, “Give me just a bit more time and I can do it.”
“That’s not my choice. You had your time, and you didn't accomplish anything.”
“I was so close, he was about to-”
“Your spy is dead!” Error snapped, stepping closer to Sapnap, just a few feet away, “And you didn't even accomplish him becoming your spy before he died.”
“6 hours is all I ask, man.”
“I can't give you any, don't you understand? This is past my control, now.”
“But you can suggest-”
“I can't! The Board took over, I have zero influence!”
Sapnap dropped his arms to his sides, “... What?”
“The Board took the case. I can't control anything.”
“You can-”
“If I say anything, anything, that jeopardizes this case in any way, shape, or form, Sapnap, they will lengthen my contract, and I want out.”
“More than you care about me?”
“Yes.”
Sapnap scoffed, “Okay, then.”
“You had your time.” Error sighed, lifting a hand towards the other hero, “I gave you as much time as I could spare and you didn't accomplish anything. I have put my neck on the line for you too many times, Sap. This once, I’m gonna have to say no.”
“Please, Error, just-”
“I gave you the opportunity to get a spy. I gave you the money, I gave you the resources and Purpled still said no to your deal. Even if he was rethinking that, he is dead now. Let it go.”
Techno spun the ring on his pointer finger with his thumb. Tommy had said Purpled was a mercenary, hadn't he? Someone for hire?
It was too bad he was dead, Techno supposed, it would've been nice to see Quackity betrayed by someone that close to him.
“There are others.”
Error stabbed his finger into Sapnap’s chest, stressing each word, “Let - it - go.”
“E, Quackity-”
“Made his decision! Need I bench you, Sapnap?”
He huffed, arms crossing over his chest as he took a step back, “No.”
“The only way you make sure that Quackity lives till tomorrow is to be on this mission, which means that you listen to every word I say, and if I tell you to leave him, then you fucking leave him. I understand you love him, Sapnap, but he is a criminal. And you have been a hero as long as I have, you know what we do to criminals.”
“Nobody in any prison would take kindly to him.”
“And that’s his own fucking fault!” Error said, glancing away from Sapnap, “He is not only a human trafficker, Sap, but a child abuser, plus more. I know how you feel about him, I do, but you swore an oath and I will not stand here and watch you break it. Let’s go.”
“Error-”
“Let’s go!” He snapped, lifting himself back up to the rooftop, not waiting for Sapnap as he ran back towards the city centre.
Techno watched as Sapnap grunted in frustration, kicking a trash can over. He climbed up the building after a minute, running after his teammate.
Techno exhaled, walking forward, “Tommy!”
Tommy jumped over the edge of the railing, slowing his fall with his wings, “Who the fuck was that, and why the fuck is the road cracked?”
“That’s Error. Sapnap and Dream’s third. Or first, I suppose, considering he’s in charge of them. He doesn't typically come out, so- it’s not good. He’s a physical type,” He said, gesturing to the cracked ground, “And so, we have to go.”
“You’re not scared of him?” He asked, unbelieving.
Techno grabbed Tommy’s arm, pulling him as he glanced up at the direction the heroes had left in, “Scared? No. But worried. Error- well, he gets things done efficiently. Ruthlessly. We’d do well to be done long before he gets here.”
Tommy licked his lips, nodding.
----
“Sneeg’s canvassing,” Phil said as Tommy and Techno got back onto the roof.
“Tell him to canvas faster.”
“What?”
“Error is- whatever the heroes are planning, Error’s involved.”
“Shit,” Phil muttered, pulling a phone out of one of his pockets.
“Why is Error so bad?” Tommy asked.
“How long have they been planning this if Error’s involved?” Wilbur ignored him.
“Can someone please tell me why Error is so worrying?”
“He’s the most- put together, out of all of them. He hardly comes out, but when he does, it’s for someone really important that needs to get done quick. He’s smart. Really smart. Worryingly so.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “Then just be smarter.”
“It’s… not that easy.”
“Well, he doesn’t exactly have an enhanced mind, does he? Tech said he was a physical type. I saw him rip up a piece of the road with his mind. He’s a quick thinker, then, but not an enhanced one. Just quit thinking things out, and he won’t be able to deduce why you’re doing what you’re doing and how you’ll proceed.”
“No, Tommy-”
“That’s actually… not a bad idea,” Phil cut Wilbur off.
“Dad!”
“No, listen, Tommy’s right. People don’t have more than one ability or enhancement, and if Error’s a physical type, then all it means if that he’s a quick deductive thinker. If we move faster than he can think, they’re not able to fight back as well.”
“Yeah, the problem is, Dad, Error has no qualms with throwing fucking spears made of concrete at us while he’s thinking.”
“Then make him be busy,” Tommy suggested, “Techno’s shadows can’t exactly be killed by a spear, now can they? They can be pretty fucking annoying, though.”
“Bruh.”
“Sorry, big man. But, like, it’s easy, isn’t it? You just go with the flow.”
“Need I remind you the last time you ‘went with the flow,’” Wilbur used air quotes, voice slightly lilting, “You got severely injured?”
“That’s different,” Tommy said, “Those was the Las Nevadas boys, these are the heroes.”
“Who would be praised by the media for killing a villain, Tommy!”
“And the public? There are so many of them that would much prefer to see any one of you get a trial.”
“The public doesn’t matter! If the heroes see it as a matter of public safety, they’re allowed kill us where we stand, given the oppurtunity.”
“Boys!” Phil yelled.
“So don’t give them the opportunity, dumbass! Sapnap’s a prick, but ultimetly wouldn’t do something that could potentially harm Quackity, so it’s unlikely that he’ll be using much of his fire in there. Dream is- well, Dream. He’s fast, you’re faster. You just keep moving. And I don’t know much about Error, but I do know that, like with Dream, moving targets are a lot harder to hit. And it seems pretty easy to get on his nerves. Just be a thorn in his side, Wil bur.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Yes! It is! I had years to practice being a thorn without making it obvious! Fucking news flash, that’s how I stayed not only alive, but relatively well! Could you stop being such a bastard, Wilbur? I understand it’s probably all you know how to be, but if you could stop for just a second, that would be greatly appreciated.”
“I already apologized, Tommy!”
“Okay? An apology doesn’t diminish what you did. An apology doesn’t diminish the fact that you’re a manipulative bastard who only does what benefits you!”
“Oi!” Phil yelled, as Techno’s eyebrows raised.
“I do what’s best for my family!”
Tommy hummed, “Then you’ll do what I say. I know Las Nevadas where you don’t. You know the heroes where I don’t. Sometimes, Wilbur, a new perspective is just what you need.”
“So… what?” Wilbur asked, huffing, “You want us to just fuck around?”
Tommy shrugged, his shoulders held there for a few seconds, “Pretty much? Just learn as you go, and don’t look back.”
“Why not?”
“Looking back is when you stumble. And stumbling- well, that means letting your guard down. You do it once, you learn not to do it again.”
Techno choked on a laugh.
“What?” Wilbur asked him.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“... That’s definitely not a pointed statement, Wil.”
“Oh, fuck off!”
Notes:
yeah, anyways, so i added another chapter bc this one got a lot longer than i thought it would. it's pretty much just setting things up for the end as well as just showing a little bit of phil's past, but like, it still got so much longer than i expected.
adrestia/ceto is puffy, btw.
and also George appears! and sneeg! love sneeg.
goodnight :) i am very tired.
Chapter 12: And I Name You My Enemy
Summary:
this isn't a full chapter. its what i got done before recent news, plus some extra scenes. there's more in the A/N
Notes:
in light of recent news about techno, i can't finish this. it feels weird to me. i think i've been slipping out of this fandom for a while. i think this might just be my last straw. and not in a bad way. it's just sad, and i don't think that i could handle staying in this fandom with that sadness. and i realize that that may read like an excuse but it's not. i tend to distance myself when things get hard. eventually, i may come back and post a finished version of this chapter, but it's not likely. it's also not likely that i post much more, if any, dsmp fanfic. i have so many ideas and so many half-started fics that now just feel weird to finish. i hope you're all doing okay, and i hope you all take care of yourselves. grief isn't a bad thing, but it's something that can really take you down. please stay safe.
this chapter isn't complete. it's only part of it, and then a lot of the “chapter” is just little snippets of things that were either ideas for this chapter or didn't make it into past chapters. this chapter also isn't edited, past the edits i've made before today, so it's not completely concise and there are likely contradictions that i didn't get around to fixing. it's still a rough draft, but i don't think it's ever going to get past where it is right now.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tommy held tight onto his happy memories. They were what made things good, for him.
He loved his happy memories because he loved being happy, and unfortunately, that didn’t happen nearly enough.
And sometimes, his most happy memories were tinted with something other. Sometimes anger, sometimes fear and anxiety, sometimes even sadness.
One of his new favourites, though, was from the party that Wil had invited him to, despite how much of a trainwreck the whole thing had been.
After the whole Phil situation, he had taken a few more minutes to calm down.
Eventually, he made his way back to the room. Wilbur had linked his phone to a speaker, playing a song that Tommy didn’t know when he walked into the room.
Wilbur had just been sitting on the couch, flipping through a book much too quickly to actually be reading it, but Techno and Niki were dancing together, Niki laughing loudly as Techno spun her.
“Tommy!” Wilbur shot up, dropping the book, “Dance with me!”
“What? Wil, I-”
Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s hands, pulling him further into the room, “Come on, dance!”
Tommy shook his head, laughing, “I don’t dance.”
Wilbur just raised an eyebrow, swinging their arms around, “We all dance, Toms.”
Tommy opened his mouth slightly, laughing in surprise as Wilbur pulled him close suddenly and then pushed him back away.
Tommy stumbled, a hand still holding onto Wilbur’s. He looked at the man, face twisted in question.
Wilbur just pulled Tommy close again, “Come on, Tommy, dance!”
“Do you always do this?” Tommy asked, trying to keep up with Wilbur’s movements.
“Sometimes,” He admitted, pulling Tommy to the side as Techno stepped closer to them, “It’s fun.”
“That’s debatable,” Tommy said, although he was trying not to laugh.
Wilbur swung Tommy around, letting go of him and grabbing ahold of Niki. Tommy had just ended up running into Techno, sending them both tumbling to the floor.
Niki and Wilbur stopped, Niki with her hands held over her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter while Wilbur held his hands out towards the two, as if contemplating if he should try to help.
Tommy rolled off of Techno, groaning.
Techno laid still for a few seconds, before pushing himself onto his elbows and looking from Tommy to Wilbur.
Wilbur dropped his hands to the side, ready to run and-
Techno started laughing.
Techno started laughing which caused Niki to start laughing and Tommy just snorted, shaking his head as he started laughing, too. Wilbur, however, was still staring at his twin in horror.
“Wilbur,” Techno started, “How did you see that going?”
“... Better than that?” Wilbur had offered, taking a step backwards.
“Oh, Wil, your Dad told me to tell you he wants to talk to you.”
“You talked to my Dad?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, still on the ground, “He’s, um,” Scary, “He’s nice.”
Niki laughed, “You can say what you mean, Tommy, they’re not going to take offence to it.”
“He is!” Tommy was quick to defend, as if the man hadn’t stolen an integral part of Tommy’s right to privacy by reading his mind, “And I do say what I mean, I refuse to have my right to free speech stripped away.”
Wilbur snorted, “Okay, first amendment.”
Tommy had reached over to the couch, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Wilbur.
----
Tommy would never be the first to admit he was scared.
Admitting fear, he thought, was the first step to giving in to it, and he refused to give in to his fear. He refused to let the things he experienced stop him from doing what he needed to do. He refused to let Quackity take another thing from him.
He refused to let anyone other than him win.
Tommy would never admit fear because he was living now. He was living and so that meant that he had conquered those fears.
He wasn’t scared of Quackity, not anymore, he refused to be.
So, as he looked down at the building the man had picked as his new headquarters, he was not scared. In fact, the only thing he felt was pure rage, freezing in his veins, burning in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Wilbur said.
Tommy glanced over his shoulder at him, “And why’s that?”
“I fucked up.”
He laughed bitterly, “That you did.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
“I didn’t deserve a lot of things, Wilbur, what’s your point?”
“I thought you were my little brother. And, I mean, you are, but- but it was an idiotic of me to think that kidnapping you from a place you thought was safe was a good idea.”
“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot, aren’t you?”
Tommy heard Wilbur sigh, “I deserve that. I just- I need you to know that I really am sorry. And you shouldn’t forgive me, I know that. It’s entirely selfish of me to want for you to just- just push away everything you’ve been through and forgive me. I’m selfish.”
“So am I, Wilbur. We’re all selfish, it’s not a new thing. It’s why I want to kill Quackity instead of letting the heroes get him. Instead of allowing him a fair trial.”
“I’d hardly say the system is fair.”
Tommy scoffed a laugh. He cracked his knuckles, taking a breath, “You’re not wrong. About that, or about how I shouldn’t forgive you. I shouldn’t.” He turned, “I don’t, actually. But you’re still important to me, Wilbur. That doesn’t mean that I want the same things you do, and that doesn’t mean that I won’t run once this is over, but- it’s something, I guess.”
“It’s something.” Wilbur nodded.
Tommy stared at Wilbur for another second before rolling his eyes and looking to Phil, “Can we go yet?”
“Calm down, mate. All in due time.”
“Yeah, thing is they’re overdue.”
Techno shook his head, exasperated, “Just wait for Sneeg, Tommy.”
“Who the hell is Sneeg?”
“He’s an Inchling. He’s just… canvassing.”
“Oh, right, canvassing,” Tommy said, nodding mockingly.
Techno stared at him, deadpan, “I will throw you off this building, Tommy.”
“I’d survive.” He shrugged.
Techno sighed, turning to look at his dad, raising his hands slightly as he gestured at the youngest.
Phil just shrugged.
A few minutes passed in relative silence before Tommy yelped, jumping back from the ledge, “What the fuck!”
Wilbur pulled Tommy further back as a tiny hand reached over the ledge, the person’s body following.
“Oh, hi, Sneeg,” Wilbur said, letting go of Tommy as the person jumped onto the roof, panting heavily.
“Hey, Wil,” He said.
“What the fuck!” Tommy yelled, again.
“Right, yeah, Tommy, this is Sneeg. Sneeg, Tommy.”
The man, less than two feet tall and blue, nodded at Tommy, “Nice to meet you, dude.”
He blinked, “... Yeah.”
“Anyways,” He said, turning to Phil, pushing a hand through his hair, “The code for a lot of the doors is oh-eight-twelve. If it’s not that, then it’s probably oh-three-oh-one. And if neither of those work, then just break the fucking door down, I guess.”
“Anything else, Sneeg?” Phil asked, almost amused.
“Yes, actually, that place is creepy as hell. It looks like you’re walking into a fucking palace and then you continue into it and it just-” He shuddered, “It becomes clinical, almost, and not in a good way.”
“Did you see anyone?”
Sneeg looked at the ground for a second, “I saw a lot of people. A lot that didn’t want to be there.” He looked towards Tommy, “A lot of doctors.”
“Guards, Sneeg?” Techno asked, stepping towards him.
“Two or three in most rooms. No more than four. But overall, there’s quite a few.”
Tommy looked at his boots, “Did you- uh, did you see any avians?”
“... I saw feathers.”
He froze, “But no avians?”
“There was blood on some of them,” Sneeg said, hesitant, “Still wet.”
Tommy’s eyes closed, and he exhaled slowly. Be it in relief or terror, he wasn’t sure.
They were still alive. One of them was still alive, at the least.
Tommy hadn’t killed them.
----
He had an idea, once, that he could make a better life for himself. It was crude and idealistic, but it had given him hope.
If he could make something for himself, he would be safe. If he could establish himself in something, then people would care about him.
(There were already people that cared for Tommy. He needed a different sort of care. He needed people to like him without ever even meeting him.)
Tommy was a kid. People cared about him, but not in the way that mattered. It was all worries about him working and living on his own and not having parents. It was them caring out of responsibility, not love, or something similar.
The flowers growing in front of him were purple and white. Lilies, he recognized easily, and perhaps hyacinths. There were no other plots in the cemetery that were growing flowers, at least none in sight, and he shook his head at the difference.
He stood looking at the two graves. His mother’s, he knew, and his own.
Was it still a grave if there was no person buried? Tommy didn’t think so, it was called something different.
That’s not the point.
Tommy had a grave.
And this wasn't news to him, not really.
He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind. Techno and Wilbur had said that their little brother had died, it made sense that he would have a grave.
(And yet, still.)
It would have been pretty if it didn’t mark the death of a child. If that child really had died, despite the fact that he, now grown, was staring at the cold stone.
“Thomas Oliver Minecraft,” He read aloud, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “April ninth, two-thousand four to April twenty-third, two-thousand ten. Beloved son, brother, friend. You are forever loved.”
He scoffed.
You are forever loved.
He’d never expected- he’d never- oh.
He was crying.
He had a grave and his family had thought he was dead and he was crying.
He had a grave and he had wanted to die, and sometimes he still did, but he had a grave.
He had a grave and he had a name that was his and no one else’s and- and-
And he didn’t know what to do.
His whole life from the time he had gotten out was him trying to figure out how to stay alive, and now he was given the opportunity to actually live. To not have to look over his shoulder every 5 seconds. To not need to be selfish.
To have a family, again.
Tommy’s breath shook as he sat on the grass.
He could change everything, he just had to say yes.
Tommy was seventeen, alive, and he had no idea what to do.
----
Tommy regrets many things.
He regrets lying to his friends.
He regrets leaving people that cared about him.
He regrets everything, sometimes. Looking at anything from the right angle, he can bring himself to regret it.
(“Oh, uh- I like wings?” It sounded more like a question than an answer, but Techno seemed amused by it, “I mean, flying’s pretty cool, you know?”)
( “Uh, hi,” Wilbur said, walking over to the booth and sitting opposite of Tommy, “So we’re both gonna be here a while, I guess.”)
(“Right, sorry. Wilbur told me he invited a friend named Tommy, blond hair, about the same height as Techno. I just- assumed. M’name’s Phil. Phil Soot.”)
It was easy to regret things when you thought about how differently things could be if they didn’t happen. If you thought about how happy you might be, or how you might’ve accomplished something great if things hadn’t happened the way they did.
(“When the world provides you an opportunity to do better in life,” She said, gold eyes looking into his own, welling with tears, “You take it. No matter what, you take care of yourself first. You always take care of yourself.”
“I don’t want to leave you here.”
“I’ll be fine, alright? You know me, I’ve always been fine.”
Tommy darted forward, arms wrapping around her, “Promise me?”
She hugged him back the best she could, chains jingling on her wrists, the lie tasting sweet on her tongue as she said, “I promise.”)
It was easy to pretend that things might just be better if you had turned left instead of right that night, if you had just walked away instead of talking to that person.
It was easy to pretend that things might just be okay and that everything that happened could’ve been fixed by doing just one thing differently.
It was easy to pretend.
----
Tommy fully expected for them not to walk in through the front door.
He fully expected there to be some sort of epic espionage-esque shit, like busting in through the wall.
But, no, they were just walking into the building through the front door.
Techno had a hand laid on Tommy’s shoulder and had had some sort of contact with the younger for the past ten minutes, as though he was afraid that the second he let go, Tommy would simply disappear.
He’d admit, the notion wasn’t entirely ridiculous, but it was still slightly insulting.
The floor creaked as Wilbur stepped inside the building, making him pause for half a second before continuing.
There was no one in the front. No secretary, no guard, no scientist, not one living person, other than the four. It was unnerving, and Tommy clenched and unclenched his hands in anxiety.
Sneeg had said that there were people in every room, so why the fuck wasn’t there anyone out front? Like, if Quackity didn’t want people snooping around, he would have to have his people preventing them from coming in, in the first place.
To put it simply, it was sketchy. Very sketchy.
Clearly, the others thought the same, Techno stepped in front of Tommy, hand tight on the hilt of his sword, and Wilbur began looking around the room, testing the ground each step, as though he expected it to be boobytrapped (Tommy would find it funny if it was. After all, that would be some espionage-esque shit). He didn’t look back at Phil, but he could feel the man’s confusion, staticky in the air.
Tommy faltered in his steps as the emotions floating from the others grew stale, frowning in confusion of his own. He watched as Wilbur stepped onto a squeaky floorboard, but felt no spike of panic as the man looked around the room quickly. He watched as Techno walked forward, not bothering to test for traps like his brother was.
“Something’s wrong,” Techno said, “This is- something’s not right here.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Tommy couldn’t resist saying, “Human experimentation, and all?”
“Not what I mean and you know that. There’s no one here.”
Tommy took a breath, emotions stale and unmoving in the space surrounding them, “Yeah. Can’t feel anyone.”
“What?” Phil asked, “You can’t feel us?”
“Your brains- emotions. It’s all-” He raised a hand, tapping a finger to his temple, “It’s all stale. It’s all… old.”
Wilbur turned, “What the fuck is going on here?”
“I’ve got no fucking clue.” Phil pulled a phone from his pocket, “But I’m not liking it.”
The lights in the building flickered, and the pit growing in Tommy’s stomach dropped like a stone.
“That’s just-” He licked his lips, “There's a very logical explanation for that that isn’t- isn’t-”
“Yeah,” Techno said, though he didn’t sound sure, “Always a logical explanation for things.”
The lights flickered again before going out.
“Or, sometimes,” Techno added on, the sound of metal-on-metal ringing in Tommy’s ears as Techno unsheathed his sword, “Other things happen that are less so explainable.”
“Ah.” Tommy nodded, “Yes, appreciate it.”
The floor creaked again, further away than Wilbur could’ve gotten since the lights had gone out.
Phil must’ve caught onto the same fact, his arm brushing against Tommy’s as he stepped forward, wing extending to cover all of Tommy’s back.
The floor creaked once more as the person stepped forward, into the small section of light flowing in through the door.
“Fundy,” Phil said, a thousand mixed emotions in the name, “Hello.”
“Hey, Uncle Phil.”
The man laughed bitterly, “You are no nephew of mine, Fundy. You betrayed this family.”
He shrugged, hands glowing orange, “I did what I felt necessary.”
“You killed our mother!” Wilbur snapped, “That was necessary?”
“I didn’t want her to die! If she had just- just given me Tommy-”
“I gave you a chance to leave, Fundy,” Techno said, “I gave you an opportunity to live. You’re dead now.”
Fundy, despite the clear threat, simply shrugged, “I’ve lived thus far, haven’t I?”
Wilbur shook his head, shoulders shaking in his silent laughter, “You’re a fucking idiot. Notos let you live at the fire station for the sole reason of our shared blood, Fundy. He does not hold such an objection anymore, and I never did. And just one thing before you die, Fundy, all of this is your fault. All of this stemmed from your one decision.”
Fundy shrugged again as if he didn’t care, but the orange light pulsing in his palms grew brighter, “Life is the way it is, you understand that. Tommy does, at least.”
Tommy flinched, wrapping his arms around himself, “Go fuck yourself.”
Techno sighed, “Get out of our way, Fundy.”
“I can’t do that.”
There was movement behind Fundy and Tommy looked to the hall, eyes narrowing to see better in the darkness.
There was a thud and someone yelled, “Get off me!”
And Tommy-
He knew that voice.
Fundy stiffened as Tommy stepped forward, away from Phil, “Get out of my way.”
“Tommy.” He tilted his head, warning.
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
Fundy raised an arm, glowing hand pointed at Tommy.
Techno and Wilbur stiffened, stepping forwards, hands poised to pull Tommy out of the way.
“You don’t scare me,” Tommy said, walking closer, “You’re pathetic.” He moved quickly, punching Fundy in the side and then pulling the man’s hands behind his back, “You’ve made no mark on this world, Fundy. And someday, probably soon, your name will simply fade out of existence.”
Fundy struggled in Tommy’s grip, orange light climbing up his arms and beginning to burn the palms of Tommy’s hands through his gloves.
He gritted his teeth, kicking the back of Fundy’s knee in retaliation.
The man groaned, dropping to one leg.
“Where is everyone?” Tommy asked.
“Fuck off.”
“Fundy.” Techno lifted his sword, the point only a few inches from his throat, “It’s in your best interest to tell us what we want to know.”
“You’ll kill me anyway.”
“Maybe so.” Wilbur shrugged, stepping around his twin, “But it’s up to you if it hurts or not.”
Fundy looked up at him, eyes sharp, “You should’ve fucking stayed dead.”
And-
That was right, wasn’t it?
Techno had said, all those weeks ago, that his brother had died. That he had died but he had been brought back to life.
He had been talking about Wilbur.
And still, Tommy’s grip on Fundy faltered as he looked up at Techno’s brother – at his brother.
“Watch your tongue, Fundy,” Phil warned, “You certainly don’t need it to point us in the direction of your employer.”
He laughed, “You don’t understand, do you? You’ll never fucking understand, you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted!”
“If you had just come to me about-”
“About what? My lack of money? My power? All you would’ve done was use me.”
“And your response to that is being used by someone else?” Phil scoffed, disbelieving.
“So you admit it?” Fundy asked, ripping his hands out of Tommy’s grip, but only placing them on his leg, “You would’ve used me?”
“No, I- Fundy, don’t be an idiot.”
“Too late for that,” Techno muttered.
“You were family, Fundy.” Phil ignored his son, “You were family, and so I would’ve fucking burned the world for you.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the ground, “Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you. Kristin was my family. Not you.”
Phil sighed, looking to Techno.
No one else said anything, but it was like something had clicked into place for Tommy.
You were family, and so I would’ve fucking burned the world for you.
I’ll burn it all down so that we can be together. I won’t let you go back there.
They valued family. Above it all, they valued family and loyalty to family. Fundy had betrayed that loyalty and that was why this was happening. That was why all of this was happening.
And for Tommy, that begged the question if they would be doing any of this if it wasn’t him that had been in the position that Fundy had put him in.
Would they have cared if it had been Tubbo they had met? Tubbo they had learned about? Ranboo?
Would they care about them if Tommy told them now? Or would they brush it off, like how they did when Wilbur had kidnapped him?
What was Tommy’s loyalty worth to them? What else was Tommy worth to them?
Death, destruction, sure. Love?
There was another scream from down the hall, and this time Tommy didn’t wait to take off after it: “Sniff!” He yelled.
There were footsteps behind him, but Tommy didn’t turn.
The hall branched, and Tommy glanced from side to side before going left. He opened the door to each room he came across, finding nothing but a mess. Broken equipment, turned over chairs, papers strewn across the floor.
“What are you looking for?”
“ Who, ” Tommy corrected, not looking back at Techno. “Their name is Snifferish. Deer hybrid.”
“Why?”
Why do you care?
Tommy opened another door, pausing at the red staining the tile floor, “I heard them and I’m not leaving them here.” Not again, he didn't say as he walked into the room, broken glass crunching under his boots. He lowered himself, dragging two fingers through a fresh puddle of blood, muttering, “What the fuck happened here?”
Glass chrunched behind him as Techno walked into the room, “Your friend’s not in here.”
“Really?” Tommy asked sarcastically as he glanced over his shoulder. And then, additionally, “This isn’t hybrid blood.”
“You can tell the difference?”
Tommy shrugged, “Shines differently in the light, dunnit?”
Techno hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, “I wonder then, if it’s not a hybrid’s blood, whose is it?”
“Yeah.” Tommy said, standing. He wiped the blood on his fingers onto his pants, still looking at the fresh-but-not-warm-any-longer blood, “I wonder.”
yeah. that's what i had. i can't finish it. but, the basic idea was that y'know, tommy finds sniff, and he finds every other person that had been hidden. they were in a sub-basement, and tommy gets them out. after they’re out, he continues to explore the rest of the sub basement levels and comes across where Quackity and co were hiding. at this point, there would be a huge racket being caused by heroes as they arrive, and quackity would be all like “hah, you’re fucked.” and then y'know. fighting ensues. quackity's death is live streamed because the syndicate has a point to make. the heroes get down there and they all fight. tommy reunites with eryn and freddie. it would be a happy ending. i just don't think i can write it.
anyways. here's snippets of things that i wrote that were either cut out or were ideas for parts of this chapter.
-
The lights flickered on and there was Tubbo, hand tangled in the wires, his eyes closed in concentration.
Sam hissed in frustration, ripping his hand off the metal casing.
-
“Well, I mean, Zephyrus is an egomaniac,” Tommy said, “Boreas is scary as fuck and Notos- well, Notos is a friend.”
-
“Wait!” Tommy yelled, hands held out in a placating motion, “Wait, Eryn?”
The hero’s hands fell slightly, red vines losing their grip on Wilbur before tightening, “How the hell do you know that name?”
“No, Eryn, it’s-” Tommy looked at Techno, who shook his head, despite having no idea where Tommy was going, “It’s okay. You- you remember, don't you? That promise you made, that we’d be together. That you’d burn it to the fucking ground so that we could be together again. You promised that you wouldn’t let me go back there.”
Eryn’s hands dropped to his side, vines slumping and dropping Wilbur to the ground, the man clutching at his throat and gasping. He stiffened before relaxing, “Oh, you idiot.”
Tommy laughed, “Yeah. Yeah, I am an idiot, aren't I?”
Eryn moved forward, “I swear to god, I thought you were dead, Tom.”
He shrugged, “That’s a fair assumption actually, especially considering the way I left.”
“Which was a bitch move, by the way.”
“Yeah, well, I didn't nearly have the resources that I do now.”
“I’m sorry,” Wilbur said, coughing as he rubbed at his throat, “I wasn't aware that we fucking knew each other.”
“Ah,” Tommy said, “Yes, um, meet the boys, Zephyrus, Notos and Boreas. You guys meet- well, I guess the first friend I ever remember making.”
“Aw,” Eryn held a hand to his chest, tilting his head to the side mockingly, “You sap.”
“You know what, I hate you, you fucker.” Tommy crossed his arms for a second before raising a hand in question to Eryn, “Actually, wait, you got the fucking heroes to tear Las Nevadas down? How the hell did you manage that?”
“Lots of persuasion. And vague threats.”
-
There were so many things that Tommy wanted to say. A thousand words tumbled on the tip of his tongue, weighing it down so much that the only sound that escaped was a choked sob.
Freddie moved first, throwing his arms around Tommy, “You’re alive,” He mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder, “You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re okay. ” He repeated, voice almost breaking, words almost sounding like a prayer, “You’re actually alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy said, wrapping his arms around his first friend on the outside, looking up at Eryn, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. ”
Freddie laughed, something both joyful and sorrowful, “No. No, don’t do that,” He said, stepping back, holding Tommy’s face in his hands, “You just- you’re alive. That’s all we need right now.”
“You made my life liveable,” Tommy said, “And that is a debt greater than I can ever repay.”
-
“Tommy!” Techno screamed, running forward.
Phil grabbed him, “Stop! Techno, stop!”
“Tommy!” He yelled, trashing in his father's grip, “No, I- TOMMY! Tommy, please!”
“Stop it, Techno!”
“I can’t lose him,” He gasped, pulling at Phil’s arms, “I can't lose him again, Dad.”
“You can't help him by dying, Techno!”
“He's still in there! I can't help him if he's dead!”
-
Notos leaned over the chair, lifting Quackity’s chin with his hand to force him to look up, “Smile pretty for the camera, Quackity.”
-
The city watched as Theseus killed Quackity. They watched the man’s body slumped forward, and as Theseus pushed the chair over.
Quackity’s head smacked off the ground, and the vigilante smiled, though no one could see.
-
Wilbur was sixteen when he died.
There was no honour in his death, no magnificent send-off.
Just a bullet through the chest and his brother sobbing over him.
They were sixteen.
They were sixteen and their family was already missing two, so why was a third pulled away?
What force had they offended so?
What could they have done better?
Techno screamed.
His twin was dead.
His twin was dead, and his mother was dead, and his little brother was gone and was likely dead, as well.
His hands were painted red with the blood of his best friend.
He sobbed.
He pulled his brother into his arms, limp and slowly growing colder, and sobbed for all the memories they would never make, all the time he would now spend without him. He sobbed for the pain and the fear and the confusion and they were kids.
Wilbur was sixteen when he died.
But Wilbur was also sixteen when he lived. And he lived.
Techno had never quite understood his father’s rage when his mother had died.
He did now.
He put his brother down and called him dogs.
He would make sure that whoever had done this suffered.
He would make their death slow, and he would enjoy every second of it.
-
There is a certain comfort in repetition. It was boring, sure, but it was predictable. And predictability was good. Predictability was what kept Tommy safe.
There was nothing predictable about anything happening around him.
He was seventeen and sitting on a couch in his childhood home and he had no idea how to proceed.
There was a man sitting in front of him with blonde hair and blue eyes and black wings that shimmered under the lights.
Tommy tried not to think about how similar he looked to his father. How similar he looked to the villain he’d never been able not to envy.
Phil looked at Tommy, fingers tapping on his thigh, “Techno told me you stole Sapnap’s sword.”
“I… yeah, I did do that.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No, I gave it back to Sapnap,” Tommy deadpanned, “Of course I still have it, what else would I do with it? I don’t even use swords, they freak me out!”
Phil bit his cheek, “Do they?”
“Yes! Why do you even need a sword at this point? And it’s fucking enchanted! It literally- I’ve had to hide it from my fucking landlord before. Do you know how hard it is to hide something from someone who knows your apartment better than you do? Fucking hard.”
“I’d imagine.”
“Can you just-” Tommy shook his head, “I don’t know, just say what you came here to say?”
“And if I came here without anything to say?”
“Then can you pretend? I still want an apology.”
Phil tilted his head.
“That day at the party, when you went through my brain.”
“Hm. Was kind of rude, wasn’t it? I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you do it?”
He sighed, “You remember that night you were out stargazing?”
“Yeah. How could I forget? Not every day you catch Boreas’ attention.”
“You’d piqued my curiosity.”
“Well, that I knew. It was almost suffocating, I swear to god.”
“You’d piqued my curiosity and then all of a sudden you were in my house, I wanted to know more about you.”
“And what is it you saw?”
Phil looked to the side, “Nothing of consequence.”
“I’m sure.”
----
Tommy wanted his family back, he did, truly. The thing was, he’d been without them for over a decade. He had next to no memory of them being his family, and their memories of him were of him as a helpless child. He was not helpless, anymore, and he was hardly a child.
They had lied to him and kidnapped him, and yet, still, he wanted them. It was stupid. Pathetic, even.
Tommy wanted to stay.
Tommy wanted to run.
Tommy didn’t know what he wanted.
----
Tommy thinks, sometimes. Not about anything in particular. He just thinks. And he wonders about all the things that could’ve been different.
What if he hadn’t said yes?
What if he had held it against them for longer? With more intensity?
What if had turned left instead of right?
What if he hadn’t left old friends?
What if he had accepted help as soon as it was offered?
----
“I never thought I’d live this long. And- and sometimes I didn't even want to live this long, and maybe that’s still true, but- I don't know. I need help. I need someone to care for me so absolutely that I don't question it. Maybe I need myself to care for me. I’m tired, Phil. I'm so tired.”
----
“A grave that has no body is a cenotaph.” Phil rolled his shoulders, staring at the gravestone next to Tommy’s mother’s, “It’s a memorial. A dedication, of sorts; Here does not lie so-and-so, but here does lie something to remember them.”
----
“Right, forgive me, Dream. You must uphold your government, the throne built off the back of sweet columbine liars like yourself.” He said, “You disgust me.”
“And you, Sapnap,” Tommy added onto his brother, “You’re just the same. A little liar, sworn to uphold the laws despite what you do in your personal time.”
----
There was a time, before he had truly made friends with Ranboo and Tubbo, that Tommy had lived in a meadow.
The grass was green and the flowers aplenty and he was free. Free to fly and free to scream and free, at last.
It was where he had met Eryn. Where Eryn had introduced him to Freddie.
The stars were brighter in the meadow than they had been in any other place that Tommy had been. He adored it. He adored them.
He had been curled into the side of a tree, thin blanket draped over him when he heard them.
Their voices were far away, but getting closer, and Tommy scrambled up the tree as fast as he could.
“George, come on, let me have fun!” A man whined, walking underneath Tommy, flicking a lighter on and off.
“Are you kidding? You’re going to start a forest fire, you idiot!” A second said, his arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in place.
“Meh-meh-meh.”
“Dude, come on,” A third person said, “The place is dry as hell, you wouldn't have a chance at controlling it.”
“Yeah, but fucking nobody lives out here, would it matter?”
“...Yeah? It's still arson.” The second said while the third rolled his eyes.
“Please? It’s not like anyone will know it was us.”
The second, George, threw his hands in the air, turning around, “You’re a nuisance! Do whatever, I don’t care, but if you get caught, I’m not bailing you out of jail.”
“C’mon, dude!”
“Nope! Neck, not on the line, this time!”
In the end, the third person ended up shrugging helplessly at the first, following after George.
The first person, Mr. Arson Man huffed in annoyance, “Never fucking let me do anything.”
----
Oh, Icarus!
For all you have fallen, still you flew!
And for a moment, the sun knew of you, too.
----
Tommy didn’t know how to fire a gun, but it couldn’t be that hard.
He lifted it at Sam.
Replaceable, he realized with a start. Sam was a hybrid, which meant that if he died, Quackity would just experiment on his dead body.
And then, Sam would explode if he shot him. He would explode and kill them all. And that was tempting but-
But Sam was good to him.
He turned to the right. Foolish. Also replaceable. Also good to him.
He turned to Fundy. Who was replaceable because he had powers, even if he was a ruin type. Quackity could get someone else.
He turned to Quackity and- and Fundy had a gun levelled at him and-
He would get a single shot off. Likely not a good one, with his unfamiliarity of the weapon, and then he would be shot by Fundy.
Even if he did kill Quackity with a single shot, someone would just take his place and- and-
Tommy turned the gun on himself.
“Theseus!” Wilbur yelled, struggling against Foolish’s hold.
“I am irreplaceable, aren’t I?” He looked at Quackity, “You can say that you don’t need me as many times as you want to, but I can still read your mind, big man. You need me. Let my family go. Let my family go and you can have me.”
----
“You weren’t- wrong,” Tommy choked out, the words tasting horrid on his tongue.
Notes chuckled, “I’m usually not. Though what about?”
“Calling me Theseus. A greek hero who was killed by the same person who took him in. Stabbed in the back by someone he thought he could trust.”
Notes closed his back, and Tommy could feel his apprehension, “I don't follow.”
“I… my plan would’ve worked. Should’ve worked. But I made the mistake of telling someone who I thought would keep me safe no matter who I hurt. Apparently I was wrong. Which hurts, because he’s protecting someone who hurt me.”
“Your friend warned them.”
“Yeah. And I don't think he meant for me to get hurt, he’s not- he’s not like that, but… I don’t know. Everything’s been off lately. Maybe we needed this.”
----
“Don’t- don’t fly too high this time around, Icarus.”
----
“Mum and Dad didn’t fight a lot, they- they were really good with communication, but there were a few times that-” Wilbur sighed, “I remember a few, but not really why they fought. There was this one fight a couple of weeks before your birthday and I can just remember-”
“I didn’t know you heard that,” Phil interrupted.
Wilbur laughed, “You weren’t exactly being quiet about it.”
“It was about a job,” Phil took his hat off, spinning it around in his hands, “I was- I didn’t talk to her before taking it, because I figured I didn’t need to. It was meant to be simple. In and out. Uh- I was given bad info, and I got caught. I spent two days there before she found me, and you know your mother, she wasn’t exactly happy.”
“None of them left?”
“Nope.”
“What- what was Mum’s power?”
Wilbur’s face lightened into something frightening.
Phil chuckled, “Miasma emission.”
“Death in the palm of her hand,” Wilbur said, sighing, “God, it’d truly be something.”
“She’s why Techno’s a ruin type?”
Wilbur blew a raspberry, “Yeah, he got all the fun. I’m stuck with mental type. Stupid.”
Both Phil and Tommy looked at him and then at each other.
“What… exactly does that mean, Wil?”
He hummed, looking at his father, “Oh, no, I didn’t-” He cringed, “I just mean, it’d be so fun to be a ruin.”
----
Boreas laughed, “Is that the rumour going around? I must say, that’s quite funny. No, Theseus, I do not hold death in the palm of my hand. That was my wife.”
Tommy quirked the corner of his mouth upwards, “Then what are you?”
“Not important.”
----
“I am not here to sate your curiosity,” Tommy seethed, head whipping towards Boreas.
The man tilted his head, his face and body levelled, but his emotions leeching into Tommy’s brain like the hero that was slowly poisoning his brain, “I never said-”
“You didn’t need to.”
The curiosity grew ten-fold, and Tommy took a step backwards at the intensity, “Jesus fuck, man. You broadcast your emotions like a fucking television channel. Even the lowest-level empath would be able to tell. And let me tell you, I’m not the lowest level, so you sort that shit out. Feels like getting hit by a train.”
“Empath?” Boreas asked, his body relaxed, but his brain still broadcasting every emotion at once.
“Of the sort,” Tommy nodded, “And I said to sort it out. Your curiosity makes me want to smash my head against a wall.”
----
When Kristen, Phil’s wife, first died, he didn’t think that anything could surpass the pain he felt in the moment.
And then he learned that his youngest son had been taken by the same fuckers who killed her.
And then he watched the video of them both, dancing around their living room before their house had been broken into.
It was stupid, a fucking home robbery had taken two of the four most important people he had from him.
It didn’t take too long to track them down, not with his connections and not with the number of people he had looking for them.
After he learned that they had killed his son (had they, Phil, or was that just what you, in your grief, assumed from the panicked words that had spilled from their mouths), they were of no use to him, and he made sure to kill them in the most painful and gruesome way he could think of.
It brought him no closure.
----
“Right, how old are you, again?”
“69.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
----
“I know, I see it in your eyes. I see it- I can hear it in your voice. Theseus,” Zephyrus chuckled, “You’re scared. Little bird, you’re scared that people are gonna think differently of you. Theseus, when I said you were never going to be a hero, you got to understand, that wasn’t- that wasn’t a challenge. That’s true. You’re never gonna be a hero, Theseus.” He shook his head slowly, then looked Tommy directly in the eyes, “And I can hear it in your voice, you’re trying to sound like you know what you’re doing so that you can prove me wrong. Theseus, none of us know what we’re doing. We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute they set their eyes on us.”
Tommy kept eye contact, tilting his head, “Rather the cynic, aren’t you?”
“I- What?”
“Why the fuck should I care what you think? Your- whatever the fuck he is to you, brother, friend, whatever, almost killed me because I called him, indirectly, I should add, selfish. Why the fuck should I care what you, of all people, think? I’ve met you, what, a total of 6 times? 30 minutes, maybe. You flatter yourself too much, Zephyrus. I have never cared for you.”
The man’s jaw clenched, “You cared for one of us, then?”
“Avians crave a flock.”
----
Techno started his day by making pancakes, regular for Wilbur and blueberry for him. Their father had already left the house by this time, otherwise he would’ve made chocolate chip for him.
The next thing he did was help Niki build a bookshelf for inside her cafe. She braided his hair after.
The rest of his day was spent doing work, whether that be researching for his next not-so-legal job, or paperwork for his legal one.
When Techno left to patrol their territory, he hadn’t expected to see Theseus again. After all, as far as he knew, the vigilante didn’t come anywhere near his district.
Anyways, he found Theseus stopping a man mugging an older woman.
“Listen, Terrence, I know that you’re running low on funds at the moment, but mugging someone isn’t the way to do this,” He had a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“I have no other way to get money.”
Theseus sighed, “The Walmart on second is hiring. So is the Tesco’s on Union. And there are quite a few stores hiring at the mall. Here man,” He grabbed a stack of bills from inside a pocket along his thigh, “I’ll give you this. But,” He added when the man went to grab it, “You need to promise me that you’ll try to get a job, okay? The libraries let you use their computers and print things, so if you need to, that’s a good place to make a resume. The shelters are always there if you need to use them.”
The man, Terrence, shook his head, “Shouldn’t you be turning me in, or something?”
“When someone commits crime because they have no other choice, they should be helped, not punished. Trust me, I’ve experienced my fair share of that, even when I probably shouldn’t have. I hope that you’re not gonna immediately turn around and ignore what I’ve done, but you might, and if you do,” He shrugged, “That’s on me, big man. Just take the money. Sometimes the only way to start climbing again is to have someone help you get up to a ledge.”
Terrence looked at the person in front of him, then sighed, “Thank you, Theseus.”
“It’s nothing, Big T. I’ve sworn to help people, haven’t I?”
Techno tilted his head at the two, admiring the vigilante, even if he was infringing on Techno’s territory.
Theseus watched Terrence walk out of the alleyway, and then looked up at Techno, as though he had known that he was there the whole time.
“Hello, Notos.”
He grunted, “Hi.”
“You just gonna stand there?”
“Was planning on it, yeah.”
“O-kay,” Theseus drawled, “Uh. I gotta go. Prevent crime, you know how it is.”
“You’re still illegal.” Techno tilted his head, watching as Theseus started backing away, “Why’d you give him money?”
“What?”
“Money. You gave him money. And advice, matter of fact. Why?”
“You mean instead of tying him up and leaving him for the cops?”
Techno grunted.
Theseus sighed, “The idea that punishment is the best way to change people is skewed. Some people try to go to prison anyways. It's shelter and a solid food source. Me giving him money and offering him things that I’ve done is just me offering a chance. Sure, he could go back to committing crime, but I like to think that not everything has to be so… violent. World’s not black and white, and I quite like living among the shades of grey.”
“Poetic,” Techno murmured, and then shrouded himself in shadows, pushing himself down to where Theseus was.
“What the fuck,” The man said, “Was that? You a fuckin’ enderman? That’s like, literal teleportation.”
“Shadow travel,” Techno corrected, “They live and so they can move. It’s complicated. Can’t explain it to someone who can’t feel them like I can.”
“Do you actually want to describe it to me?”
“Heh?”
“I could learn to feel them, if you actually wanted to teach me about it.”
Techno deadpanned through his skull mask, “And how, pray tell, would you do that?”
Theseus glanced around them, “Can’t give up my secrets, big man.”
“Then why should I give up mine?”
“You have a fair point. I’m an empath. Hard to explain. I can feel things, hear things. Not like supernatural things, ‘cause that’s what I’m making it sound like, but people things.”
“Sure,” Techno said, mentally adding that piece of information to what he knew about the vigilante, “Hear things? That’s not very empath-y.”
“Empath-y?” Theseus asked, his face screwing up under his mask, and then, “I told you, hard to explain.”
“Uh-huh. So you learn to feel the shadows, you do that through me?”
“If you actually want to. Like, I’m not at all opposed to learning new things. Be kind of cool, to understand how your power works. Not in the sense of using it against you, but just like understanding someone else’s power. That’d be pog.”
Techno raised an eyebrow, amused by the vigilante. He couldn’t let him understand his power, obviously, that’d just be asking for him to use it against him, but the excitement surrounding his want to learn was amusing nonetheless, “Maybe one day I’ll let you know.”
“Oh,” Theseus shrugged, “Yeah, that’s understandable.”
----
Notos stalked closer to the vigilante, his black-eyed shadows pushing him into a corner, “ What did you just say?”
Theseus laughed nervously, his feet scuffing against the ground as he changed his stance to account for everything around him, “Sorry, man. I- I really didn’t mean it. Tried to make a joke. Was real bad, wasn’t it?”
Notos reached to hold the vigilante’s face, “Yeah. It was.”
He pushed the man’s head back, hitting it against the wall and revelling slightly in the recoil.
Theseus’ mouth opened in pain, and no sound came out.
----
“Tommy,” Tears rimmed Wilbur’s eyes, not that Tommy noticed, considering he wasn’t looking at the man. He did hear the fact that Wilbur’s voice shook, though, and that it sounded like he was crying, “What do you remember about your family?”
“Nothing,” He said, a little too quickly. And then he paused for a second, thinking ‘Wilbur is someone you can trust. Wilbur can know. Wilbur didn’t leave.’
Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead leaning against the wall, tears silently running down his face.
“That’s a lie. I remember a lot. I have a really good memory, which can be shit at times when there are things I don’t want to remember, but then again…” He shook his head, unsure how to continue, “I can remember a song my Mum made—my brother made, so that’s nice.”
“How old were you when…”
“I was five, almost six. There are so many good things I remember, Wil, that were just… stolen from me.” Tommy’s head tilted as he spoke, his voice rising in pitch as tears sprung from his eyes, “But, then I wouldn’t know Tubbo and Ranboo, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
“Not even for a life with your family?”
“That’s the thing, they are my family now. Wil, I- I can’t even begin to think about what a life with my Dad and brothers would be like. For all I know, they want me gone.
That’s not true, Wilbur wanted to scream at him, That’s not true, we loved you—we love you, I love you. He wanted to tell Tommy everything all at once, that they thought he was dead. That they had looked for him for ages.
Wilbur took a breath, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again, “You know, Tommy, I had a little brother once. And then one day, when Tech and I were 10, we were out with Dad. When we got home, everything was wrong. Our Mum was dead and he was gone.”
“Why are you telling me this, Wil?” He asked.
“I’m getting there. We spent a long, long time looking for him, and then eventually, we learned that they, the burglars—the people who killed our Mum had killed him too. We still looked, our Dad needed to see our little brother’s body, he needed to bury it with our Mum, but he couldn’t find it, couldn’t find him.” Wilbur paused, unsure how to continue, “But before this, before everything went wrong, we had a perfect family. I had 2 brothers who I loved, and parents that would fight the world for me… I had a Mum who would help me with music, so much so that… that she wrote a song for me, and she let me change it to fit something I adored, something that I thought my little brother would adore. And you know what we did then, Tommy? We gifted it to my brother. It became his song, and he was dead set on memorizing it. Does any of this sound familiar, Toms?”
Tommy choked on a sob.
“You’re my brother, Tommy. And- And I want you here more than anything else in the world, you have to believe me.”
----
Tommy blinked as Wilbur sat down, leaning against an oak tree, gesturing for Tommy to sit by him.
“I thought you said…”
“Mum wanted- she never wanted to be buried in a casket. She wanted her death to help something live. This is Mum’s grave, Toms, it’s just…” He sighed, shaking his head, “It’s just… not common, I guess.”
Tommy sat in front of him, “So, how old’s the tree?”
“About 80. Our Grandad’s father planted it when he was born.”
“And Mum wanted to be buried here?” Tommy asked, and Wilbur paused, tilting his head at the younger.
“You don’t remember the picnics, do you?” Wilbur asked, a sad smile on his face.
“No.”
“Every weekend, Mum was insistent on us all eating lunch out here together. At least, whenever the weather let us.
“Oh.”
Notes:
i wish everyone reading this the best. please take care of yourselves.
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