Chapter Text

To get good work in the city, you need to have a major skill set. 

Time management skills, being able to stay on your feet, the ability to schedule yourself and work for people with a smile, hell Tommy would go so far as to say he can even maintain a level of professionalism with his coworkers.

Getting jobs in the city was next to impossible but somehow, Tommy had managed to secure what he could only describe as The Dream™

“Excuse me I was— or you could walk in front of me, yeah. Thanks. No, no, that’s fine. Sure, you twat.”

If you had asked Tommy while growing up if he wanted to work in an office, doing grunt work all day, he probably would have said no. But that version of Tommy doesn’t understand what a great opportunity he has. 

This was the easiest of all the jobs he’d had, who cares if the hours sucked? And that the people sucked. And the work… sucked.

“Move please, there’s a meeting in ten minutes. What? No, I’m— yes, I work here. This coffee isn’t for you, mate, come off it. It’s for the people upstairs.”

Okay maybe it wasn’t that great, but Tommy could not screw it up. He’s trying to be early to this stupid meeting he’s forced to listen to and to top it all off, he’s balancing six drinks in a takeaway cup holder while rushing up the stairs two at a time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Tommy whispers, cursing the traffic he fought to get here. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

He rounds the corner, finally making it to the top of the stairs and sighs in relief, almost dropping the drinks from exhaustion. His shoes pad against the black carpet as he walks, craning his neck to try and spot the correct meeting room.

Oh God, he cannot lose this job. Tommy tugs at the collar of his shirt. The dress shirt he was required to wear was painfully uncomfortable, it was enough to drive him mad. Tommy doesn't say anything about it, he just does his job like asked because he needs this. His rent is already overdue as it is, there’s no way he can ask for another extension.

“Yes, please set up that interview for next week. Our stocks are fine, are you kidding? Have you seen the numbers lately?” A body comes rounding the corner, talking into his phone and Tommy slams right into him, drinks going up in a lukewarm-milky coffee explosion.

The man calls out in surprise as six drinks detonate on the ground, seeping into the carpet as liquid pools out.

“Fuck!” Tommy shouts, falling to his knees and starts picking up the now empty containers. “Oh, dude! I literally just spent like twenty bloody…”

Tommy looks back up and the man is already gone. Tommy turns behind him, watching as cream coloured footsteps form on the carpet and the man disappears from view, ignoring Tommy completely.

Tommy can feel his face heat up in annoyance as he looks back down at the carpet.

 Wow.

Okay. Tommy? Listen to yourself, right now. This is important. Don’t cry.

Do NOT cry at work.

This is a minor inconvenience and that was a major asshole.

He probably won’t lose his job over this, right? It wasn’t even his fault.

Tommy sucks in a small breath, gathering up the containers into the drink holder. He stands up, staring down at the mess. Tommy glances at the clock on the wall.

3:51pm

Nine minutes until the meeting.

Alright, challenge accepted. Tommy starts darting back down the stairs. His life is nothing if not a race. And Tommy will do his damn best to win.

He reaches into his pocket, securing the keys in his hand and makes sure to unlock the car before even getting out the door. He makes it through the building, out the door, and starts skidding across the concrete to start finding his way to the car. 

The car is nothing special but Tommy considers it a privilege. He always makes sure to look after his cars, he acts like it's a part of the job.

Tommy twists on the radio, making sure his playlist is playing before driving. It’s a small cramped looking silver car that he was given to run work errands.

And run work errands he shall.

He’s got the city memorised, inside and out. Tommy travels the city with expert knowledge.

If there’s a street, he can name it. If there’s a dead end, he knows to avoid it.

Tommy arrives at the coffee shop in record time; he’s pretty sure some of his driving was just barely leaning on the illegal side of speed but he got there unscathed and that’s all that matters.

Tommy orders with perfect memory, recalling what kind of drinks he needs and as he waits, he watches the clock. While waiting, he tries to wipe his hands off from the spilled coffee using a napkin. It was starting to get sticky and he cringes when he can't get the residue off.

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime of waiting, he gets the coffee, walking over to his car.

Actually, he should have plenty of time to get there and back. Tommy places the coffee on the passenger's seat, starting the car.

The radio switches on, blaring news alert.

A warning to all citizens in the Essempii’s: L’manberg District. This is not a test and is a certifiable alert from the Hero Tower. A villain spotting has occurred, please remain calm and vacate the streets until told otherwise. Thank you. 

Tommy groans internally, switching the channel to find some music. They had those alerts every other week, it was no doubt some low ball, irrelevant villain that probably had more vigilante traits than anything else. Most people in the area would be freaking out, rushing to their cars to get home or hiding out wherever was safest.

In Tommy’s opinion, it was best to just ignore the alert and take a slightly more unusual route to avoid the traffic. Honestly, it was probably just a grocery store that was robbed or something equally pathetic.

Tommy pauses, mapping out a better route in his head. It’s a skill he’s always had. He can imagine the layout of the city perfectly, right down to the little details. It wasn’t his power, that was something he didn’t use very often. 

Tommy pictures a new route, slightly less taken so he can avoid the panic of people, but something suitable enough he’ll still get to work on time. Maybe a minute or two late, but at least he’ll have an excuse now. A cop car zooms past behind him and he raises his eyebrows, watching the mirror intently.

How close was this villain?

He grabs the steering wheel with one hand and uses the other to guide a seatbelt over the drinks to secure them in place. 

Click! Tommy smiles, looking back towards the road. Things were going really well.

Click! Wait, what? His head jerks back over to the passenger seat.

The car door is thrown open and he watches in horror as two gloved hands reach in, throwing the drinks out of the car and onto the road. Tommy stares wide eyed as a car honks, driving over the fresh coffee he'd just bought and a man throws himself into Tommy’s car. 

“Sorry about that, mate.” The man takes a deep breath and Tommy’s freezes, his blood going cold in fear.

The Angel of Death.

Are you fucking kidding? His heart sinks when the man just... calmly does up his seat belt. Tommy watches with a note of horror as the man taking a spot next to him in his car looks quite pleased with himself.

It was clearly him. He was wearing the signature green robe and slightly darker cloak, along with the trademark bucket hat that was such a rich green it was almost black, with a matching veil to cover his face. There was no mistaking it.

This wasn’t happening, was it?

Tommy stutters, his tongue suddenly turning to rubber and stares at the man, one of the world's top villains, in his passenger's seat. “I—”

“One moment.” The Angel holds up a finger, popping the door open and looking towards the back of Tommy’s car. He cups a hand to his face. “Boys, get in this fucking car or I’m leaving you behind!”

Tommy twists in his seat, head snapping back to look out his back window and watches as three more men (holy shit, is that the Blade?) come darting towards his car.

Oh god, no. 

 There were two other villains, shorter than the Blade, who were running over too. Tommy thinks he vaguely recognises them, but not enough to put a name to the face.

The one leading the charge was in simple terms, a lanky mother fucker with split dyed hair to be black and white. He wears plain black and a mask that looks like black and white paint splotches covering the bottom half of his face and a red and green visor over his eyes that didn’t disguise the scared look flashing in his expression. His long dark purple jacket (almost a trenchcoat with the length it was) with two neon purple stripes running down its side, looks like it’s going to fall off with the way it’s practically slipping down his shoulders. 

Blade was looking slightly more serious as he ran towards the car, face concealed behind his mask, modelled to look like a hog skull. He always wears that dumb red cape with a white fur top, which Tommy still thinks is impractical and a black shirt that has a darker patch growing into it, sticking to skin in the same way something soaked with blood would.

He wonders what the hell happened. He realises that he’ll probably find out on the news tonight.

The thought makes Tommy feel faint. This was some kind of mistake, surely. One that Tommy really, really, really didn't want to find out the ending for. If Tommy wasn't frozen in shock, he would have bailed right then and there, running for the hills like any sane person would do.

What snaps him out of his spiral is the third villain, the shortest, falling behind and shouting something incoherent Tommy couldn’t catch.

He was sporting yellow tinted steam-punk goggles on his forehead, a metal plated lower face mask and holy shit, that looked cool as fuck. The villain was wearing a brown bomber jacket, patched with yellow fabric from where the jacket had ripped, and he had a black shirt on just like the other two. 

It’s so familiar and it takes Tommy a second to recognise him through his panic, but he does realise. Rocket and Blink.

Lesser, barely known villains who worked closely with each other. What they were doing with the Angel of Death and The Blade, Tommy felt sick to think about. It would never be anything good.

The three of them are beyond terrifying to see racing towards him. Tommy barely manages to croak an objection before there’s a burst of purple particles and Blink teleports into the backseat behind the Angel of Death, heaving air into his lungs like it’s taking all his energy.

Tommy shouts (in a manly, very cool, not high pitched manner) at the sudden appearance and Blink screams back too, jerking so hard he smacks his head on the roof. Tommy would laugh if it was anyone else.

After a concerning few seconds of screams, they both stop, staring wide eyed at eachother. The Angel of Death looks confused in the corner of Tommy’s eyes. Tommy thinks Blink looks almost apologetic but before he can dwell on that too much, his back seat door is yanked open and Rocket climbs into the car.

“That was a disaster.” Blink breathes through gasps, meeting Rocket’s eyes.

“That was hilarious.” Rocket shoots back, the smile evident in his voice. Rocket gets shoved in first by Blade, complaining loudly as he’s smooshed into a seat next to Blink who was slouching, hand resting on top of his head to stop himself from hitting it again.

“Move.” Last is Blade, who struggles a bit more to fit and has to squish against Rocket to even be able to close the door. The door clicks shut and Tommy gapes blankly.

It was quite the sight, four villains squished into his car. Two of them; part of the most wanted in the world.

 The three in the back looking quite upset while the leader, The Angel of Death sits in his passenger seat and starts removing his gloves..

Yeahhhhh, Tommy was going to lose his job.

“You’re sitting on my coat.” Blink mutters, yanking his purple jacket out from underneath Rocket. 

Blade groans. “Angel, you picked the worst car, I’m pretty sure my cape is stuck in the door.”

Tommy looks over to his side mirror, watching as a red cape is half caught on the outside of the door, lying limply against the side of the car. What the fuck.

“Sorry, we’ll get a bigger one next time, okay?” Angel bristles.

Were they shitting on his car? Tommy doesn’t even own a car. He’s only got this for work errands. He didn’t get to pick it.

A cop car with its sirens blaring goes roaring past and everyone in the car looks a little on edge. Even Blade who pretends to ignore it.

“Let’s just go.” Blink pleads, touching the side of his torso and letting himself flop back against the car seat, staring out the window.

“Sounds good to me, mate.” The Angel chirps, looking over at Tommy and nodding.

A beat.

“...Get the fuck out of my car?” 

The Angel of Death squints at Tommy. Another siren goes past and they look even more nervous. Good, Tommy thinks. At least if he’s murdered they’ll be able to figure out what happened.

 “Are— are you not our get away driver?”

Tommy stares in shock. Are you fucking face blind?

 “Do I look like your get away driver? No!” Tommy slams a hand down on the wheel,  “No I am not! Get the fuck out, you pricks!”

“Wh—” Angel looks out the window, eyes scrambling around until they fix on a similar looking silver car further back on the road that a cop is investigating. “Oh…no.”

"Oh no?" Tommy almost laughs at the ridiculousness. "Are you joking?"

“Shit.” Rocket curses, pulling his head down as another car goes past. “Angel, we need to get out of here!”

Angel looks over slowly in terror at Tommy, or at least what Tommy imagines is terror since he can’t see his face. and Tommy can’t help but stare back.

 "Let's just use the civilian as cover!” Rocket suggests, making himself comfortable and tugging at the mask across his face to adjust it. There was nothing comfortable looking about being pressed panini-style in the middle.

“Go fuck yourself.” Tommy objects, reaching for the door handle and the Blade shouts gibberish, reaching over and locking the door. 

Tommy fights, frantically trying to unlock it but he’s pulled back, hands grabbing at him and directing him to drive.

“Jesus,” Blink mumbles, pressing himself against the side of the car to dodge flailing limbs.

“Wicked.” Rocket corrects, leaning forward to catch one of Tommy’s hands.

“No! This isn’t happening. I object! This is against my human rights! You don’t have my consent!” Tommy shrieks. “My consent!”

“Oh god, shut up. We’ve committed!” Blade reaches into his belt, pulling out a small knife and Tommy’s stomach knots in dread. 

Blade grabs Tommy by the shirt and  holy shit— this is how Tommy dies. He’s actually about to get killed by The Blade. It was kind of cool in a not so cool way.

Blade shoves him so he’s facing forward, holding the knife against Tommy’s throat. 

“Drive. Calmly.” He stops for a second, staring out the window. What was that saying, something about not letting yourself be taken to a secondary location if you were kidnapped. Did this count as that?

Tommy very slowly moves his hands onto the wheel, firmly moving the car into the right mode and carefully pulls out of the parking lot.

The car goes eerily silent as Tommy drives. He wouldn’t consider himself a particularly anxious person but this was testing him.

He drives more carefully than he ever has before. To anybody else, he’d look like the most perfect citizen on planet earth. It looks like a perfectly normal, perfectly calm car ride. Except there’s four strangers in halloween costumes and a knife to his throat.

Tommy drives in a straight line, having no idea where he’s going but just getting out of the area so they’re not arrested. So he’s not arrested for helping them. Oh shit was he an accomplice?

Tommy wasn’t new to the world of heroes and villains. He’d worked for six years with Dream. It was unwilling, unpaid, and the most conflicting six years of his life but it taught Tommy a lot of tricks.

He’d only managed to get out of the situation a few months ago. He’d left, found an apartment to rent, and he’s secured a job that Tommy attends under an alias. He’s not Tommy there, he’s Theseus. 

And so far, it was going well.

Which is why these villains are completely owning his plans. So while Tommy is shitting himself, a knife against his neck and a cold sweat forming on his skin, he’s also listening to the villains chat nonchalantly.

Because clearly this is just an average Friday.

Tommy can see Blades cape half stuck outside the car, the red fabric wiggling in the wind. Blade looks relatively unbothered, glancing out the window occasionally and watching it.

Blink looks tired, watching Rocket bop his head to the music and tap his hand against his knee to the sound. It was surreal in an odd kind of way. This wasn’t the villainous side of them, they were just acting like people.

People that Tommy was still scared shitless of, but the way they were acting made Tommy start to humanise them a bit more. They weren’t just unfeeling, killing robots. Tommy’s not sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

The Angel of Death hums, rolling his shoulders and reaching a hand behind his back.

Tommy’s almost tempted to ask where his big fuck off wing are since he was pretty sure they’re supposed to be on his back but he bites his tongue. Was that an insensitive question to ask?

It’s probably the kind of power that Angel can control. He must have a fantastic understanding of his powers if he’s able to make them disappear. He wonders if you can still feel them, even when they’re… retracted? Would they retract into his back?

Yikes, that would feel awful. Can you imagine the feeling of your bones and feathers, lumping together as they compact and start slowly slipping, dissolving into your back through the tissues and—

 “Well, this is a little awkward.” Angel sniffles, looking away from Tommy.

“Yeah, no shit.” Tommy barks, and he doesn't have the impulse control to shut himself up. “You assholes just kidnapped me for no fucking reason.”

“We had a reason.” Rocket retorts defensively and the Angel of Death shushes him with enough concern that Tommy realises they’d probably kill him if he knew too much. 

It doesn’t stop him from running his mouth.

 “Your reason was piss all.” Tommy, lacking all survival instincts, rolls his eyes. He jabs a finger at the Angel of Death. “You literally have wings. You can fly. Speaking of, where are they?”

“What?” The Angel of Death questions.

“The wings. You know, your big dopey crow ones? Where are they ‘cos I thought like, you actually had them. If they're just decorative, or mechanical or something can I tell you how incredibly inconvenient and—”

“I do have them, I’m just injured at the moment and a flying person is pretty easy to spot.” 

Tommy’s fingers itch instinctively and he can feel the burning ache of his power through his veins. He could feel his powers hot against his skin from the moment Blink got in the car with that injury, but he wasn’t about to go around healing villains.

 It had been a while since he used them for anything other than a slight headache. He was trying to lay low at the moment, he couldn’t go around healing people when they needed him to even if there was the urge.

 Healing powers were valuable and rare; Tommy would be damned if he’d let the people who effectively kidnapped him know about it.

Angel shakes his head, in confusion. “Are you… not afraid of us?”

“Oh I’m fucking pissing myself, mate. I just talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

The Angel of Death tilts his head, almost like how Tommy imagines a bird would. “Right.”

Blade huffs from behind Tommy, poking the knife rudely against his throat. “I think shutting up would be a good start.”

A stone hits the bottom of his stomach and Tommy nods once. The reminder of the knife is more than enough to shut him up.

After a few minutes of beyond awkward stony silence the knife against Tommy’s neck starts to slacken, relief flooding Tommy immediately.

When they come to a stop at a red light, Tommy clears his throat nervously.

 “Where am I taking you?” Tommy can see the villains exchange tentative glances, quietly debating if they give Tommy their location or not. “I can just keep driving forward if you… you don’t know.”

A beat.

“Do you know where Niki’s bakery and cafe is?” The Angel of Death asks. 

“Who doesn’t?” Tommy scoffs and he regrets the smart ass comment the moment it leaves his mouth. But seriously, that was the best bakery in the entirety of the L’manberg district. Who wouldn’t know about it? 

“Wait, really?” Rocket raises a brow. “It’s only been open for like, two weeks.”

Tommy tries not to question it too much. What would he do if his favourite cafe was actually an organised crime front? Probably keep buying from them. They had amazing cupcakes.

They all look slightly suspicious and the air feels so thick you could cut the tension.

After another painstakingly long moment, the Angel of Death claps his hands together and Tommy’s eyes flick over to him for a moment in concern. “Great. We’ve got friends in that area so we’ll be fine there.” 

He keeps driving smoothly while his internal monologue is a barrelling disaster. He can barely hear himself think over the panic going on in his head. 

All that he can do is form thousands of half thoughts; sentences which are cut off, questions that are unanswered, and intrusive ideas he really shouldn’t dwell on.

Was Tommy really about to die to the hands of four villains who happened to get in his car? 

He always knew he’d die, but are you taking the piss? Six years of surviving hell for it to end like this? If karma exists, he’s got negative numbers. What kind of rubbish luck did he have?

“Eyes on the road.” A gruff voice from the back calls and Tommy slips back into reality.

“Sorry.” He murmurs, fingers tightening nervously around the wheel. He hopes that maybe, he can convince them to not murder him brutally. He probably should have been nicer earlier on but hey, Tommy doesn’t regret anything he said.

“Oh, I like this song.” Rocket hums, leaning over to the front and turning up the speaker. “You’ve got good taste… I don’t know your name.”

Tommy doesn’t pull his eyes away from the road, murmuring quietly. “That’s probably for the best.”

Rocket watches him thoughtfully. “Yeah probably.”

“Sorry about all of this.” The Angel of Death says and Tommy’s skin crawls as he can feel their eyes on him. The apology takes Tommy by surprise, these guys were villains! He doesn’t take them as the apologetic type.

Although, there was a knife to his throat so maybe not so apologetic?

“‘s alright.” Tommy whispers, uncertain what he should say. Accepting the apology felt wrong, but denying an apology felt even worse.

Once Tommy can finally see the sign for Niki’s bakery, they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

Tommy pulls over, hesitant to make any movements even once the knife against his throat is pulled away.

They all hesitate in getting out of the car, looking a bit awkward.

 “So… are you going to kill me?” Tommy swallows a dry lump in his throat when the Blade tilts his head at him thoughtfully. 

“Do you know our identities?” Blade asks.

“No?”

“Are you going to tell anybody about this?”

“I’ll be honest bossman, I don’t think they’d believe me even if I tried.”

Blade shrugs. “I’ll think about it then.”

They pop the doors open and get out of the car, leaving Tommy without a goodbye or thank you.

Tommy watches, shell shocked, as the four of them walk off into the cafe. It was quite an unusual sight.

With Blade trying to smoothen out his cape from where it was stuck in the car door, Angel holding his bucket hat onto his head as wind threatens to blow it away, and Rocket who supports Blink as he walks. Blink who starts taking off his coat, folding it over his arm to reveal a black shirt with a large dark mark across the back.

Tommy’s pauses and looks back over into his back seat. As suspected, there’s a gruesome blood stain across his chair.

Tommy reaches down for his phone, turning it on and grimacing.

4:14pm

His throat feels tight and Tommy groans inwardly. His head smacks against the headrest. “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Tommy doesn’t even pretend he’s surprised when he gets a text telling him he’s fired the next day.

He had one job. There was no way on earth Tommy could excuse the fact he was thirty minutes late by the end of the whole damned situation.

Admittedly, the fact they only thought he was worth a text hurts just a little bit, but that was the least of his concerns. There was still that massive bloodstain that Blink had left in the back of his car.

Fucking inconsiderate asshole if you asked Tommy.

The run in with the Syndicate had left him more confused and angry than afraid.

Tommy was expecting them to be cut-throat, serious, or brutal. When Tommy was still working with Dream, he remembers how harsh they could be. The wounds that Tommy healed were something that made bullet wounds look like paper cuts.

Tommy gasped, clutching his torso and cringing when he could feel sharp pains shoot through him with each little attempt to straighten himself out. Shit, he’d lost track of Dream and let himself be injured in the process.

He should have just stayed in the fucking car and waited instead of getting impatient, charging head first into a cluster fuck of a sitation.

“God, were you even trained?” Blade laughed, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll be honest, that was kind of embarrassing for you. I didn’t even mean to hurt you, I was just trying to leave.”

Tommy launches himself back up, snarling. “Fuck you!”

“Out of the way, kid” Warden seethed, swinging with the blunt part of his trident and knocking Tommy off his feet. “We’re not here for you.”

Blade rolled his eyes at Tommy’s theatrical display of a fight and glowered at the two of them. “Well, that was underwhelming. Come on, Warden.”

He didn’t hold a grudge against them, it was Tommy’s fault for making a fuck up that big. And Tommy still feels a hot hatred for the Hero Coalition for turning a blind eye to his involvement.

But Tommy understood the villains were just doing their job. If Tommy was going to hold a grudge against the villains, it wouldn’t be for something that petty and personal.

For being shitty people? Yeah, of course. For being unfeeling, unempathetic assholes? Definitely.

From the interaction yesterday, honestly, they were just so fucking weird. They make him chauffeur them around after jumping into his car and leave his backseat in an absolute mess.

Tommy wanders idly around his apartment for some cleaning supplies to try and scrub and fix the stain up. Sure they were super villains, but staining a man's car? Come on.

He’s still in shock if he’s being honest. 

Just because he’s worked in the hero world before doesn’t make it any easier to come face to face with death itself. Tommy feels like that wasn’t the sort of thing that was dependent on your history. No matter how many times you narrowly avoid dying, no matter how often you can stare into the face of death, everyone is afraid in the end.

Tommy swings open the little compartment beneath his sink, grumbling when all he can find is a bar of soap, a pair of yellow rubber gloves about four sizes too big and some disinfectant.

It’ll have to do??

He puts the rubber gloves on and takes the soap and disinfectant. Using a bucket he had lying around in storage, he runs some hot water, grimacing at the fact he’ll probably have to skip his shower tonight if he wants it hot. He gathers the items up, throws a rag into the bucket of hot water, and manages to balance it all as he pulls open the door. He nearly walks straight into the person standing on the other side.

“Hi mate.” The Angel of Death tilts his head to the side, veil spilling over his shoulder. It makes Tommy jump so badly, he drops the bucket in his hands, stumbling backwards and goes crashing ass first onto the ground

Tommy gasps sharply, trying to gain some of his composure back. The Angel of Death pulls back as some of the water splashes up and Tommy scoots against the floor moving backwards. He pushes himself onto his elbows, grateful the bucket landed the right way up from all the water weighing it down.

“What the hell!” Tommy shouts.

“I’m here too.” Blade adds, arms crossed and staring down at Tommy.

“How— how the fuck do you have my address?” Tommy was speechless, what the fuck? How did they keep finding him? God, he needed to get out of this city.

“Are you actually asking how we got your address or is that a joke?” The Blade snorts and Tommy bites the inside of his cheek. Okay, it was a bit of a stupid question. These were powerful villains he was talking to, it wouldn’t be hard to find him, but still.

“Sorry for scaring you.” The Angel of Death shrugs. “It’s sort of our thing. But I think you know why we’re here.”

I think you know why we’re here is probably in Tommy’s top five scariest things a super villain can say to you.

Tommy glares up at them despite the several litres of adrenaline that decide to crash through the floodgates of his body.

“Are you taking the piss?”  Tommy raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t joking when you said you’d think about killing me?” Tommy groans into his hand, standing up. Are you serious?

He brushes himself off, trying to avoid thinking about how much this was going to suck. Running from them wouldn't be too hard, but definitely a pain in the ass. 

His apartment had several escape routes he'd thought up when he'd first arrived.

His bedroom door is almost always open and if it's not, Tommy has no problem breaking a window. There's also a fire escape entrance across the living room, and if all went to hell Tommy could risk just making a run for the front door.

 He wonders if he could slide between the Blade’s legs and then race down the stairs to get outside?

 Probably not. But he’s not above kicking someone in the balls.

“What…?” Angel makes a questioning noise.

 Tommy shakes his head in annoyance, throwing the rubber gloves to the side. “I lost my job, I’m losing my car, I’m about to lose my life—”

“Wait, woah, woah, woah.” The Angel of Death holds out his hands placatingly, exchanging a glance with Blade. Tommy's heart thunders against his chest, despite the effort he put into keeping his face flat. “Who said anything about taking your life?”

“You stalked me to my apartment a day after kidnapping me and you’re super villains.” Tommy deadpans. 

Does he need to remind them about Blade saying he’ll think about if he was going to kill Tommy or not?

Shit, Tommy felt stupid for sticking around where it was easy for him to be found. He was good at running, why didn’t he think to skip town the moment the four of them got out of his car and turned their backs?

If they weren’t menacingly standing in front of him, Tommy would fucking book it right now.

“We’re not here to kill you.” Blade looks Tommy up and down and Tommy sneers back at him. “We would have done that already by now, I don’t like wasting my time.”

“Wasting your time? Killing me would not be a waste of time, dipshit. I’m incredibly poggers to kill, I’ll have you know.”

“I wouldn’t want my axe to be coated in your blood, even if you asked.” Blade grunts and Tommy should probably stop bringing up how killable he is. You know, trying to survive and all that.

Listen, humour is a mighty fine coping mechanism. One he implements consistently and without fail. 

Was the glare he was receiving was enough to make his blood run cold? Absolutely, he’s clenching his teeth so hard he thinks they’ll crack. Was he at least fooling himself into thinking this situation was okay? A little bit, yeah.

"So?" Tommy shifts back, crossing his arms apprehensively, “The fuck d’you want then?”

The Angel of Death lets himself in and Tommy steps back further, staying out of his path and not daring to object. Hell, Tommy couldn’t have stopped the man if he tried. “Don’t worry. Where are your parents?”

His parents are fuckin' buried, that's where. Six feet under since Tommy was a little kid, although he had no intention of telling the villains that.

“What do you want?” Tommy hisses and he slips further back as the Blade walks in as well. Keep your distance, Tommy.

“Well, I'd like to talk to your parents.” He could hear the pout in Angel's voice. “You’re a teenager, right?”

“Oh, fuck off. I live alone, asshole.”

Tommy assumes the Angel of Death looks confused beneath the veil because he kind of hesitates, pausing his search around the room. “Oh.”

“Aren’t you like a child? You look twelve.” The Blade questions and Tommy turns on him, a murderous look in his eyes.

“I’m fucking seventeen, alright pinky pie?”

“Yeah, that’s creative. I’ve never heard that one before.” Blade scoffs, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “And same difference, dude.” 

“That’s nearly an adult.”

“Yeah, nearly. I don’t think you’re even old enough to vote. Your opinion literally doesn’t matter.”

“Seventeen…” The Angel of Death mirrors quietly, turning away. The fuck was with him?

Tommy's eyes dart between the two men. He wanted them both within view so they couldn't pull anything on him.

“Why are you here?” Tommy’s lips twitch downward and both of the men glance at each other.

“Just passing through the area.” The Angel of Death answers. “We set a government building on fire maybe three blocks away as a statement. Figured we’d check in with you and make sure it didn’t spread to any civilians.”

Spread… three blocks?

“How kind.” Tommy states, although that’s not the real reason they’re here. Tommy's not stupid. It can’t be because they’re just ‘checking in’. They wanted something, or they were taking something. It didn’t matter which.

The idea of the burning building still made him sick to his stomach. The syndicate was known for their destruction of property above anything else. They didn’t seem to care about how many people got killed in the process; so long as it means fucking up some buildings. 

Tommy thinks about the fire, wondering if everyone was able to make it out in time.

“Yeah, thanks for visiting, but you guys can leave now.” Tommy blows a strand of hair out of his face irritably, reaching over and holding the door open for them. He forces a smile. “I insist.”

The Blade looks at him and Tommy can see his piercing red eyes beneath the hogs skull mask he wears. Tommy’s palms go clammy at the sight, but he plays it cool, keeping his face unreadable.

Just keep it cool.

“You live here alone?” The Angel of Death whines from the kitchen and Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d gone into the next room.

“Hey!” Tommy calls out, rushing over. He doesn’t miss the way Blade shuts the door, looking around and making himself acquainted. A nervous shiver goes down Tommy's spine but he knows better than to address it. The door wasn’t locked, at least. He still had all his exits.

“Huh,” Angel of Death hums absently. Tommy hears the sound of something being knocked over.

Since when did his life morph into being the bloody babysitter for villains? When Tommy walks into the kitchen he sees the Angel of Death opening his top cupboards.

His face drops as the Angel of Death goes through his shelves, pushing things to the side and letting out small moans in upset.

“Where is all your stuff? This is all empty...”  The Angel of Death reaches into his cupboard, pulling out a box of cereal and tipping it upside down, staring down at the ground when nothing falls out. “Are you eating properly?”

 “Stop touching my shit.” Tommy scowls and swats his hand away, closing the cupboard he was peering into. 

“Angel.” Blade warns. “You’re doing that thing again.”

"What thing?" Tommy scrunches his nose up in confusion, looking between the two of them as they have some kind of unspoken staring contest. He feels like he’s watching two parents have an argument except they’re doing it silently like the telepathic freaks they were. 

What the fuck was their problem?

They’re not actually telepathic, but they might as well have been. 

The Angel of Death wore his power on his back, those massive midnight coloured wings.

Blade was a bit more terrifying. If being larger than the average person, both muscle and height wise wasn’t enough, his ability was plenty to put him in the number one villain position.

His powers kicked in when someone was bleeding, offering him the nickname Blood God. If he made someone bleed, even himself, all his senses got enhanced and he became freakishly strong. He was the only one who had a reputation to win somewhat consistently against Dream.

He was honestly one of Tommy’s favourites, although in real life he was coming across as a major prick. Never meet your villains, I guess.

 Angel looks back down at the empty cereal box and sighs.

“Dude!” Tommy snatches the cereal box back, squishing it between his hands and waving it as he speaks. “You two need to leave. Or I’ll fucking— I’ll call the cops or some shit.”

They both laugh at him. Tommy blinks.

“Mate, we’re not here to cause problems.” The Angel of Death goes to pat his shoulder and Tommy shrinks away, barely suppressing the flinch that crawled its way through his whole body. It doesn’t go unnoticed and there’s a sense of unease from Angel before he continues. “We just… wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” It was Tommy’s turn to laugh and he chucks the cereal box to the side. “For being your unpaid taxi driver?”

“We can pay you if you’d like.” The Angel offers and Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“No! It was a joke, I meant like— wait, pay me?” Tommy stammers. “What do— what? What do you mean?”

“Look, mate. We…” The Angel trails off and Blade picks up the conversation.

“We screw with the Hero Coalition, not civilians.” Blade shrugs. “If avoidable. Or boring.”

Whatever Tommy was feeling, it gets stripped away immediately by the comment.

“Great.” Tommy drawls, turning away. “So glad you considered me boring enough to keep alive. But seriously, if that’s all fellas, the door is right there.”

Blade scoffs, grabbing Tommy’s forearm in an iron grip.  “Bro, this is us saying we owe you one. Stop trying to kick us out and just tell us if we can return the favour.”

Tommy fights the urge to wince, not because it hurts but because Blade could make it hurt. Tommy has gotten his ass kicked by Blade before, he knows this is him being gentle.

“Tommy, you owe me.” Dream scowls. “Don’t risk a mission for something petty ever again, are we understood? Until you’re done paying back the favour, you’re mine.”

“I’m not your fucking anything, Dream.” Tommy shoots back. The grip on his arm tightens and Tommy knows it’ll leave bruises. “I’m not your property, I’m your team mate. At what point did you decide to fucking change your mind?”

His head was starting to hurt and at the contact, his tongue starts to feel heavy. “I don’t... I don't want your favours.”

“Well, we’re offering you a favour and you’d be smart to not turn us down.” Blade says and exchanges a glance with Angel. “We don’t do this often.”

He knew favours were special with villains. Connections were everything in their world and Tommy didn’t want to be connected to anything. Anything at all. Favours were valuable if you knew the right people and had the right links. Tommy had barely gotten out of the world of favours, hell, he had this apartment because of a favour.

They did a lot more damage than good and he was done.

“Pass.” Tommy grins and he pulls against Blade’s hold, skin crawling from the contact.

Angel extends his hand, holding a small burner phone. “We don’t let our debts go unpaid. Sometimes, leaving debts unresolved can lead to more problems than good.”

The room seems to darken and Tommy steels himself, holding his ground. His body riots against the feeling, scratching in the corners of his brains to get out.

He takes the burner phone and chucks it with an underarm throw across the room, letting it scatter across the floor. “Well you don’t have to worry about me coming back to bite you in the ass, okay? I don’t wanna see either of your ugly mugs again, so lets just move on.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re understanding us.”  Blade scoffs and Tommy rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t understand? This is fucking rich. Listen, okay; I don’t do favours.”

“You do now.” Blade threatens and something cold traces Tommy’s spine. It was familiar in all the ways he hated. Like a song you can just barely remember the tune of. 

He just wants to think about something, anything else. But his brain keeps going back to the song.

He disguises the feeling with a scowl. “So I just ask for something and then we go our separate ways?”

“Yes.” Blade shifts his weight, releasing Tommy. “Bro, what’s so hard to understand?”

Tommy clenches his jaw, hesitating.

His head is reeling, mostly from the fact he got called ‘Bro’ by the Blade of all people, but also from the fact he was just handed the fucking hail mary, golden ticket out of this weeks rent issue. But it requires using a favour.

Granted, not one that puts him in debt to the villains but makes everything even.

One could argue that meant he was getting rid of the favour which... which was good. Great in fact!

“I’m broke.” Tommy confesses because yeah, it was easy to tell he wasn’t living in luxury.

An awkward silence forms where the two villains look around at his apartment. 

“We can tell.” Angel answers and Tommy can hear him cringing just from his voice.

A kitchen with no food in it, a brown couch with a broken leg and exposed stuffing on the armrest, a coffee table he found in the alleyway, and a literal cardboard box that held up his ancient laptop which he used as a TV. Even the laptop was falling to pieces, the top left part of the screen being stuck to the backing of the device with a plaster.

“Shit, alright. You could have spared me a bit of humility but whatever.” Tommy dismisses with a wave. “I need… well, just whatever I can’t cover for this month's rent. I lost my job so I’m gonna be short and I can’t get an extension. So, uh, yeah… if that’s alright.”

“That’s it?” Blade chuckles darkly and crap, should Tommy have asked for more? “I’ve killed people for less, but alright.”

I know, Tommy nearly retorts. I’ve seen it.

“Yeah, well. I’m not a dickhead who wants anyone dead.” Tommy rolls his eyes, and there’s a little piece of him that asks if that’s true, really?

He pushes it away, rethinks and assumes the regret at the decision is because he didn’t ask them to cover all his rent, and then tries to mentally move on.

 It didn’t matter, he just wanted this whole deal thing to be over with. No more dumb favours. Tommy wanted to stay far away from the hero and villain world. 

By all manners of speaking, he was out.

Tommy starts walking back towards his front door. “Now I’m serious, you guys have to leave. I’ve got a bloodstain to clean up that Blink so generously left behind.”

Tommy looks between the two of them. “I’m guessing that’s why the two of you are here without Blink and Rocket, right?”

Even through the mask, Tommy can feel the Angel of Death's eyes on him.

Angel nods, answering in a small voice. “He’s out of commission for a little bit. Rocket is uh, grounded.”

“I thought all the major groups had personal healers?” Tommy asks, but he doesn’t think, he knows. He knows because he was Dream’s sidekick and that taught him a lot more than what he’d like to have known about both heroes and villains.

The media likes to paint everyone with powers as either good or evil. A higher up at the hero coalition, Schlatt, really liked to push that narrative. Villain or hero. It turns out that news stories are a lot more digestible when you’ve got clear black and white, not shades of grey.

Tommy hated it more than words.

“Dream’s been on a warpath ever since Stitch walked out.” Blade mutters, suddenly withdrawn from the conversation. Tommy tries to keep his face flat at the mention of his old hero name. It's impossible to ignore the way his heart races, but he can do his best to keep his face even.

There’s no warmth to Blade's voice. “If Dream can’t have a healer, no one can. Ours was killed from one of his temper tantrums.”

A healer... a healer had died because he'd left. Tommy’s mouth goes dry and he can picture what happened clearer than he’d like. 

When your powers get logged into the system at twelve, if you can heal you’re automatically filtered into a special opportunities course. Dream had lost it on Tommy when he’d threatened to leave. When Tommy actually did, well, he's sure he'd left the Heroes coalition in a state of fuckin' chaos.  Chances are, the syndicate's old healer had their name in the system so their identity was revealed and Dream… yeah.

It gives him a whirlwind of emotions. Anger and sadness and grief all in one. Tommy’s heart hurts for them and he means it genuinely when he murmurs his condolences and apologies to the villains.

“It’s not your fault.” Blade says casually, although there’s something in his voice that suggests it’s not casual at all.

But it is his fault. If he'd chosen to stay...

“Consider your rent paid." Angel breathes, a sad smile carrying in his voice.

The two villains start exiting and Tommy waits, a hand on the door. He was glad this was over and done with. The whole situation was putting him on edge, he felt sick trying to pretend like it wasn’t.

“What’s your name?” Angel asks, walking out of Tommy’s apartment. When Tommy doesn’t answer instantly, Angel jumps to his defence. “So I know who to put the payment under.”

“It’s uh, Theseus.” Tommy watches him thoughtfully. “But just leave the money in my mail if you can.” He didn’t trust the idea of leaving it in his mail, but he didn’t like the idea of money magically appearing in his bank account and tipping anyone off.

“That’s an unusual name. Theseus.” Blade met Tommy’s eyes.

“That’s an unusual name. Dream.” Tommy scrunches his nose up, tiny palms wrapping around the nameplate in his hand. “Why did you pick that for your hero name?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly taking your opinion into consideration when I chose it. You’re a few years late for that one.” Dream tilts his head to the side, rolling his eyes playfully. “Besides, as if your name is so great.”

“Stitch is great fucking name!” Tommy exclaims loudly. “Because I’m a healer and, you know, I get you out of a bad situation when you’re in a stitch. It’s creative, witty, clever— you’re just a fussy bastard.”

“It’s dumb.” Dream smiles and Tommy throws a pillow at him, striking him in the face.

His head was hurting again, he needed to go lie down. Tommy shrugs. “Yeah, it is, I guess.”

Angel hums. “Thank you, Theseus. Have a good day.”

“Yeah… you uh, you too… Angel of Death and Blade. See ya, Big mans.”

Tommy shuts the door, trying to process what on earth just happened.

Big mans? Fuck, it’s men. See ya, Big men. 

That was going to be the last thing he’ll ever say to the two people who are potentially the coolest mother fuckers he’ll ever interact with again.

God damn it. He needed to take a break, sleep off all the brain fog that was causing him to make dumbass comments like that. 

His quips just weren’t on point today.

He’d do that right after he finishes cleaning the blood patch out of his car.

Tommy would be lying if he didn’t groan the entire time, carrying the bucket downstairs to the garage where the car was parked, cursing Blink and his stupid bleeding body.

Tommy’s pretty confident that the interaction with Blade and the Angel of Death are the last he’ll ever see of them. And a few days later,  he knows they’ve fulfilled their favour and now they’re on even ground.

When he wakes up, it looks like Christmas.

He sluggishly walks out of his bedroom, mouth dropping wide open when he sees three bags of groceries on the counter and a bulky looking envelope addressed to him.

FOR THESEUS.

He goes for the bags immediately, combing through the food he was bought and the whole time he’s gaping like a fish out of water. Holy shit.

There was so much… everything!

Tommy stops rifling through all the groceries and pulls out a box of cereal, unable to stop the grin that splits across his face when he realises it’s the same one that Angel of Death had picked up and found empty. Tommy’s stomach growls  at the sight of it and he smiles.

It was more than Tommy had ever thought to ask for and he doesn’t know how to process the kindness of the gift. A part of him does hesitate in opening any of the foods— what if this was a way of getting Tommy indebted to them? What if they’d figured out he was a healer and decided they were going to make him an asset.

The smile slowly drips off Tommy’s face and he pulls his hands back, feeling more and more suspicious by the second. The more he thought about it, why would they bother giving him more than he asked for any other reason than wanting something in return?

Tommy reaches for the envelope, tearing open the top and paling when he looks inside.

This was more money than what he needed to cover the month's rent. This was enough to pay all of it , twice over.

There was a small note in there too, saying how they felt bad about the bloodstain and have gotten rid of any marks Tommy couldn’t remove. They even returned the car to his place of work for him to save him the effort.

Tommy puts the cash down, feeling dizzy. Obviously, Tommy didn’t want to owe them anything. He wanted to be even. End of story. 

Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he was thinking? It’s possible they really just want him to stay quiet about the whole situation.

Yeah… that was it….

Tommy goes about putting everything away, trying to find out the best spot for all the groceries.

There were plenty of canned foods from soup, spaghetti, peaches all the way to dry foods that he would even know how to cook like rice, pasta, and more.

The burner phone is on his counter, waiting for him, and Tommy figures he can probably figure out a way to use it just as a way to call people if they need his number. There’s no rule that says you can only use a burner phone for one person anyway, right?

He sure as shit wasn’t going to be calling the villains but he might as well not let it go to waste.

He tucks the phone into his pocket.

He stocks up as best he can and when he runs out of room, Tommy decides there’s no chance he’ll be able to eat all this without it expiring so he packs a small bag and heads outside.

Tommy sets off down the road, walking towards the local food bank. It’s a fairly quick walk and he makes it there untroubled. 

The roads are pretty empty, probably because of another villain threat. One that, thankfully, Tommy won’t have to deal with due to his lack of car.

The woman who works there thanks him profusely and he insists the items aren’t his, he was just passing it on.

He exits the food bank, a wave of fresh air hitting him and he looks up to the sky, jerking back as his view is obscured by a helicopter chopping its way overhead.

Okay… weird. 

None of Tommy’s business though.

Tommy sets home, feeling oddly good about himself. He watches as cop car after cop car zooms by and oh, that smell. God, the smell of burning rubber is so nostalgic and bittersweet and actually, a small part of him kind of wants to throw up but he can’t stop smelling it for the life of him.

The burning rubber of cop tires as they go racing around corners to try and find villains. Ah, the joy of living in a poor section of the city where law enforcement is pretty shit.

There are still cop cars zipping past when he makes it back to his apartment building.

“Tommy, if I don’t see skidmarks on the track when we’re finished, you’re not good enough to join me on the field.” Dream meets his eyes, holding his gaze with a gleam.  “I hope that training paid off.”

Tommy’s not bothered by it though. Maybe getting almost kidnapped was the best thing to have happened to him. He starts heading back up the stairs to his building, content with himself.

Giving the extra food to a food bank was the logical thing to do instead of hoarding it all for himself. 

Of course, Tommy’s life isn’t logical. 

So when he’s home and gently creaks open the door, stretching his back and preparing to relax, obviously there’s a fucking home invader has to jump him. 

Chapter Text

There isn’t enough time to scream before a hand cups over Tommy’s mouth and yanks him backwards into his own apartment. Whoever was holding him was bigger than him, stronger too. It was enough to send anxious spikes through his body.

Another hand wraps around his waist and he screams into the hand, helplessly being shoved against a wall.

“Shhh, shut it. Shut up!” A voice whisper-shouts at him pleadingly and Tommy stops fighting for a moment, staring wide eyed into the masked face of Blade. “I hate children so much, oh god, stop fighting.”

 Tommy freezes, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. His heart was pounding rapidly against his chest, although, it didn’t look like he was in danger? To be blunt, the Blade looked like shit. His pink hair was a mess, loose strands falling down over his mask, there were burn marks on his shirt and a few rips.

Tommy means to say, “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving me alone?” but because of the hand on his mouth it sounds more like, “Amm mue MhumMmh Mm m MeMmMn?”

“What did you—” Blade yanks his hand away swiftly, staring at it in horror. “Did you lick me?”

“Yeah and it tastes fuckin’ shit. God, that’s like— like sweaty ash. Dude, go and shower.” Tommy chokes on the flavour. 

Blade cringes in disgust, wiping his hand on his pants. Tommy relishes in the victory. “Bro. I hope you get so many diseases, you have no idea how much I dislike you.”

“Good. Diseases make me stronger, baby.”

“For your sakes, I really hope that’s true. But I’ve got more problems than how diseased you are. Look, I’m not here to— to kill you or whatever. I was serious when I said you weren’t worth my time.” 

Tommy rolls his eyes.

“I need you to listen, Theseus. Can you do that?” Blade grabs onto Tommy’s shoulders. “You have to hide me, okay?”

“Fucking what?” Tommy says, shoving away from Blade. “No, we’re even. You said we were even!”

“We were.” Blade steps forward once, glaring at him with a dirty look. “Now we’re not. Are you catching on yet?” 

“Dream, that isn’t fair.” Tommy hisses, voice breaking. “You know! You fucking know that wasn’t fair.”

“Oh come on, Tommy. Don’t act stupid. You knew what to expect. You knew what would happen.”

“We’re even! What the fuck happened to an eye for an eye?!”

“Our ‘eye for an eye’ deal ended when you started acting fucking blind.”

“Why the fuck are you even in my apartment?” Tommy takes a shaky breath, blinking quickly as he tries to fix his focus. He was getting really fed up with these villains. Tommy wouldn’t just break into one of their homes and fucking set up shop like any other normal day. No, he had manners. 

Blade pulls back, crossing his arms and suddenly looking sassy. “Oh, so when we break in during the night to give you gifts, it’s fine. But when we break in and ask for hiding, it’s too far?” 

“It was too far the first time you jumped in my fucking car and put a knife to my neck! Look, if you wanna take back all the shit you gave me, go for it. But I just dropped off the extras that I couldn’t keep so unless you’re that much of a prat that you’re going to go and raid a food bank, I’m sorry. You’ve made a loss.”

“Heh? No, I— I don’t want your groceries.” Blade shakes his head. “Dude, I wouldn’t have come here if I had any other choice but Ph— Angel suggested I just stay here until the heat dies down.”

Tommy tilts his head, pointing and using a small voice. “Ph.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said ‘Ph’.”

Blade blinks. “I had something caught in my throat.”

“Yeah? I’m sure you did, dickhead.”

“Yeah.” Blade growls. “Moving on… I’m staying here until the search is over so we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“No.”

“...No?” Blade looks down at him and Tommy holds his ground. He wasn’t going to be in anybody's debt or vice versa.

“No.” The Blade seems like the sort of person who doesn’t take kindly to being told no. But Tommy wasn’t going to let himself get pushed around, no meant no. 

It didn’t matter if the Blade was looking borderline murderous, Tommy knew what he wanted. 

And that was to be to left the fuck alone.

Tommy huffs. “We’re done, asshat. Don’t you have some other shitty, batman knock off villain in the area?” Another dirty look. Wow, Tommy was on a roll today.

“Trust me, you weren’t our first choice. Until Angel mentioned it, I didn’t even think you were on our list of choices.”

They had to be desperate to go to Tommy or stupid. Maybe both.

 That was something Tommy could use to his advantage. If he was being forced into something he didn’t want to do, he might as well milk it for all it was worth. 

“What did you do?” Tommy inquires and Blade laughs dryly.

“This isn’t twenty one questions, kid. I’m hiding here. End of discussion. The only question we should be asking is if to make this happen, I need to put an axe through your teeth or not.”

“Yesterday you said you wouldn’t kill me if I asked.” Tommy points out and Blade scowls.

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“You’re bluffing, I think you don’t want to kill me. I see right through you, pussy.”

“Do you really want to find out?” Blade questions, swinging his axe and letting it rest against his shoulder.

“...”

“...”

“...No,  I don’t think so.” Tommy’s eyes narrow. “I’m just that confident you won’t kill me. It’s not worth my time.”

A beat passes where Blade watches Tommy in disbelief, blown away by the sheer audacity. Although, he doesn’t do anything, so Tommy takes it as his cue to keep talking after another longer awkward silence.

Tommy shrugs. “Well, I guess if I’m your only option and you need me—”

“I never said that and never will.”

“—I’ll graciously allow you to stay in my home—” 

“I will ‘graciously’ stab you if this continues.”

Tommy puts a hand on his chest. “—from the kindness of my heart. So after this then we’re even. In fact, I’d go so far to say you’re in my debt.”

Blade looked like he was clenching his jaw so hard, he would break a tooth. Yeahh, Tommy could guess pretty easily that it wasn’t his idea to come stay with Tommy but he wasn’t going to fight it. It must have been the Angel of Death’s idea.

“Great.” Blade grits out, turning away from Tommy. He looks around, because sure I guess, you can just make yourself at home, and Blade starts scanning the apartment. Although, there isn’t really much to look at. 

Eventually, Blade wipes the couch cushion with a huff, moving to sit down on Tommy’s slightly broken couch.

He should probably tell him.

“Uh, Blade? That’s br—” Tommy doesn’t finish his sentence before the couch tips over, the leg snapping off entirely. “Oooh, yikes. Uh, yeah, I should have warned you. That couch is like, four decades old. It breaks sometimes.”

Blade sighs deeply from his spot on the couch, head tucked down in defeat. “Say anything about this to Angel and I’ll kill you.”

“Sure bossman.”

 Blade stands up, dusting himself off. “Do you own anything that’s not broken?”

Tommy jerks back. “Well firstly, fuck you. Yes, I own things that aren’t broken.”

 He’s lying.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Blade murmurs.

“Dick.”

They fall into a stony silence. 

Tommy sucks in a bored breath, staring towards Blade. “Thanks for paying my rent, by the way.”

Blade doesn’t even look at him.

Tommy clears his throat because wow, this was honestly awkward. I mean, he just watched the Blade fall off his couch. 

Blade shows no sign of hearing Tommy, instead walking towards his window, peering outside.

“Do you have a car?” Blade switches the topic, ignoring Tommy.  

Tommy scratches the back of his neck. “No, not anymore. Unemployment and all that jazz, ya know?”

“Right. Do you… have a problem with stealing one?”

His hands shake as he wedges the thin piece of metal down, sucking in a sharp breath, heart soaring when he finally hears a click and pop.

“I…” Tommy trails off. Does he? I mean, he should. He really should, obviously. So no. The answer is no. Why isn’t Tommy saying no?

He takes Tommy’s silence as an answer. “Great. No offence, but I’d rather get out of here sooner than later.” Blade grins, the corner of his mouth peeking out from beneath the mask.

“None taken.”

“Because it’s disgusting.”

“Oh, wow. Okay, fuckwad.” Tommy sucks in a sharp breath, laughing. “Do you talk to people much?”

Blade shoots him a calculating look. “Are you trying to find out information about me?”

“No! Fucksakes, I’m making small talk.” Tommy exclaims, hurt showing through his voice. “Do villains not do small talk?”

Blade scoffs, drawling. “No, we sit in silence constantly and brood.” 

He stands up and Tommy can feel him rolling his eyes without even seeing his face. “Aegis would love you. You guys are on par with levels of annoying.”

“Impossible.” Tommy declines.

“It’s true, you’re considerably more annoying. That was an insult to Aegis,” Techno pauses, “but you still remind me of him. Now c'mon, I’ll steal you a nice car. It’ll be an upgrade from the last tin can you were using.” Blade makes a beeline straight for the door and Tommy gapes, trailing after him. 

“You bitch! That car was nice.”

“Sure, if you like driving lawn mowers.” Blade walks down the stairs and Tommy scowls, struggling to keep up.

“That car did its job.”

“My coffee grinder sounds better.”

“Fuck you, man.” Tommy scolds and Blade barks in laughter, exiting the building. 

It was weird to hear the Blade laugh in real life. Sometimes you’d see some shaky found footage of fights and hear him laughing, but this wasn’t nearly as terrifying. When Blade laughed on the battlefield, it sent cold shivers shooting down your spine. This was completely different. It wasn’t as theatrical as you’d see on film. It was more human.

They get to the bottom of the stairs and Blade grinds to a halt, causing Tommy to nearly slam into him. 

Blade starts skirting along the building walls, finding a way to try and keep hidden from any security cameras (Which makes Tommy start to wonder how the hell he even got into the apartment) and then he points out a car.

“What do you think of that?”

It was a perfectly fine car, but for the sake of it, Tommy groans. “That car is rubbish. It looks like how your hand tastes.”

“Wh— why are you making that a thing? Stop bringing up the fact you licked me.” Blade complains, a concerned lilt in his voice and Tommy bursts in laughter, tipping over.

“How about that car?” Blade points out to a car further down the road and Tommy stares over at it.

A Mercedes benz. Now that was slick.

Tommy feels the breath sucked out of his lungs just at the thought of zipping around in it. God, that was a nice looking car but… stealing? Now that he was actually standing there, the idea of stealing wasn’t appealing at all. 

No, it was anxiety inducing more than anything else. 

What the fuck was he doing? Holy shit, he was standing around, laughing about stealing cars with the Blade of all people. The fucking Blade. Tommy should be shitting himself and half dead right now, what is he doing?

Blade doesn’t seem to pick up on Tommy’s hesitation and starts walking over.

“What the— fucking wait!” Tommy reaches out, gripping Blade’s arm and trying to yank him back. It’s not that surprising that Blade barely moves but he does stop and shoot Tommy a quizzical look. 

“Don’t tell me that’s not good enough for you, you’re just being fussy.”

Tommy bites down on the inside of his cheek. “No, I’m pussying out. We just… fucksakes, we can’t steal a car. You’ll have to wait it out with me.”

“What?” Blade laughs. “Oh god, did you think this was a choice? Listen Theseus, sometimes you’ve gotta break eggs to make an omelette.”

There’s a sharp sinking feeling in Tommy’s chest. Of course he wasn’t getting a fucking choice, why did he even assume that? This was a supervillain for god sake. “Why can’t you just go without me?” 

“Because everyone in the city and their cousin is looking for me.” Blade holds a blanket up, Tommy’s blanket. “So I’m gonna hide in the back and you’re gonna drive.”

“When the fuck did you grab my blanket?” Tommy protests.

“Dude, I was waiting in your apartment for a while before you showed up.” He shrugs and grabs Tommy by the arm. It startles the living fucking hell out of Tommy and he sucks in a sharp breath, failing to hide a flinch.

Blade doesn’t seem to notice as he keeps guiding Tommy towards the car. “Now c’mon.”

Blade looks around nonchalantly, acting as though nothing is wrong and then reaches into his belt, pulling out a small metal multitool and slamming it into the backseat window. It shatters so loudly Tommy feels his heart in his throat. 

“I’m not doing this.” Tommy grimaces and Blade pops the door open, crawling into the back and unlocking the drivers seat door. 

“Correct. I’m doing this.” Blade retorts, far too cheerily for someone committing a crime in public. “See, you’re learning.”

Blade gets back out of the car, wiping the glass off the seat. 

“No, like I’m not gonna fucking drive you around as if I’m your mother. You can go find some other poor sucker you can hold hostage while driving a car.”

“Sounds like a lot of work, I’m gonna have to pass.” Blade responds by grabbing Tommy and pushing him into the front seat. “I hate to admit it, but Angel has gotten attached to you and you’re in a pretty convenient location for when we need to lay low. I’m not a man to ignore a good opportunity when one is presented.”

Tommy doesn’t skip over the ‘convenient location’ part of the sentence. 

“You’re such a bitch, man.” 

Blade shuts the door and gets in the back. “Would you rather I held you hostage like last time or have we had some character growth since then?”

Blade pulls out his multitool again, pressing a button down and a small blue light emanates, reflecting a key. 

 “Use that.” Blade commands, handing it to Tommy and he takes it. Tommy holds it up, his hands barely shaking. He could still feel the adrenaline that was starting to take hold and with time, they’d be trembling entirely.

 Now this was high technology, probably illegal too. No scratch that, definitely illegal.

It also meant that breaking the window was entirely theatrical which, since Tommy was getting to know Blade, was pretty on par with what he’s seen so far.

In movies, you’d see car thieves try to hotwire a car. And yeah, you could do that. Definitely. But only with older models. 

Modern cars worked a bit differently. With modern cars, keyless cars that use a start button, you could steal them in seconds so long as you had the same digital key code. There are a lot of easier, less fancy ways than the high tech piece of work that Blade had just handed him. Not that he was complaining.

Tommy’s not afraid. He’s done a lot worse, during his time working for heroes.

But the idea of getting caught, the thrill he can feel starting to send electric spikes down his spine… the adrenaline is all too familiar. It’s addictive.

Driving and stealing cars had always been Tommy’s adderall and right now, he could feel himself slipping back into bad habits.

“Ready?” Blade smiles from the back of the seat and Tommy can feel the engine buzzing to life like it’s another part of him.

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, let's get this over with.”

You could spin Tommy around blindfolded and dump him anywhere in the whole city and he’d still be able to find a way back home. 

He can picture the city in his head perfectly. Each turn, each bend, corner, dead end, bus stop, highway, railway, Tommy knew it. All those obscure streets which wrap into nothing to the big North bridge which led out of the city. He could imagine himself racing through the area, his surroundings blurring as it was nothing but him and the road. Him and the road. Car whirring beneath his foot. Music in his ears. Cold air blowing through the windows.

For so many years, even when he wasn’t driving he’d imagine himself going to some new place. It was an escape.

“Theseus, everything good up there?” Blade pokes his head out from beneath the blanket in the back. “Why’d we stop?”

Tommy sighs, reaching out to the radio and skipping the channel. “Sorry, the music stopped working.”

“And?”

“I need it.” Tommy shrugs, biting his lip and flicking through the radio frequencies. He eventually finds a song he likes and starts driving again, something with a good bass line. He’s not entirely sure of the name of the song, but it’s catchy enough and loud enough that Tommy’s happy to have it playing in the background.

 Blade gives him a confused look but doesn’t ask about it.

Tommy continues at a safe pace. His foot itches to push down. To test how fast he can go.

Tommy fights the urge, tapping his fingers on the wheel rhythmically as they round a corner.

“You’re a good driver.” Blade comments, surprising Tommy with the effort to make small talk.

“Lotta practice, big man.” Tommy chuckles and stops himself short. “Wait! This doesn’t mean I’m cool with fucking stealing the car. Or— or doing this shit again, alright? Don’t tell your dumb villain friends that we’re working together.”

Blade puts his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll tell all my ‘dumb villain friends’ you really gave me a run for my money. Promise.”

“Good.” Tommy adds as an afterthought. “And just so you know, you’re still the biggest twat I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of villains.”

Blade gives him a sort of side ways glance. “Yeah, well this is sort of our thing. Crime and all that.”

 Tommy still can’t process how fucking bizarre this all is. He glances back through his mirror.

Blade really did just look like some dude if it wasn’t for the dorky costume.

Tommy clicks his tongue, eyes trained on the road. “So once this is done…?” 

“We’re over. Once this is finished, we can part ways.” There’s a smile in Blade’s voice. “No more car theft. Unless you’re interested?”

“No, you can piss right off. And that’s good.” Tommy breathes in relief, although his heart does pang in a way he doesn’t understand

 He was done with heroes and villains. Just being around Blade was dangerous in more than one way. 

After a small break in the conversation, Blade sits back up and Tommy eyes him warily.

“Do— hang on, do what do you mean lots of practice?” 

“Whaddya mean, big man?”

“You’re seventeen.”

“Yeah?”

“Do… how long have you been…”

“Ten.” Tommy answers and his fingers tap nervously against the steering wheel. “I’ve been driving since the moment I could reach the pedals.” Despite the mask, he could feel the judgemental wave of shock. “Wha—hat! You got a problem, dickhead?”

“Theseus, you do have a licence right?”

“Eh.” Tommy pauses, watching a cop car they pass by. The lights of the cop car flick on and Tommy’s heart sinks when there’s the loud vwoop of the siren. 

Oh, fuck.

Blade groans. “Please tell me you have a licence.”

“Keep your head down, dumbass.” Tommy reaches back, throwing the blanket over the Blades head and pulling over to the side of the road.

“Dude.” Blade grumbles, tucking himself back down. “Please tell me you have a licence.”

Tommy’s heart is pounding but he relaxes into his seat, rolling the window down. He reaches over to the radio, turning the music down but leaving a slight hum.

It only takes a moment for a cop to walk up his window, staring down at a notepad.

“Ayup.” Tommy greets and the cop glares at him for a moment.

“Officer Dan,” He taps his badge like Tommy gives a fuck. “We’re doing some car checks— villain sightings in the area, as you might know.”

Tommy feigns his best shocked reaction.

“Licence and registration?”

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Tommy turns back, reaching into the glove compartment and rummaging around.

Okay, what was even in here? Some old papers, a half used gum packet, a flashlight for some reason— god, the owner of this car must have been the most boring person on earth.

Tommy lingers for a moment, making it look like he’s really searching hard despite knowing his licence won’t be in there and then pulls back.

“I’ve got… ah, some proof of insurance? Sorry, I must have forgotten my licence.” Tommy looks back at the man  sheepishly, doing his best to look upset. “I swear I’m usually more put together than this. This is actually my first time being pulled over.”

“Is your registration there?”

“Uh…” Tommy trails off, glancing back over to his passenger's seat. He can see Blade’s hand from the back seat slowly raise a slip of paper. Tommy’s heart doesn’t sink, per say, it more or less somersaults and smashes through the ground. Tommy grabs the papers quickly, giving Blade a not so subtly shove. “Here it is.”

Adrenaline is crashing through him like a shockwave but he pastes on a friendly face. Tommy smiles and hands it over, the cop scanning it slowly. 

“Are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“No.” Tommy laughs, lying through his teeth. “No, no, no. It’s my brothers, actually.”

“Can I have your name? I’ll just run you through the system. Check everything’s alright.”

“Yes, thank you! It’s Th…Theo. Uhhh, Innit.” Tommy nods to the cop. Okay, wow. So one fake name is the limit. 

Fucking Theo Innit?

 His real name was Thomas Simons, obviously. That was a normal sounding name. The fake name he was using for… well, forever, was Theseus Innes. He wasn’t going back to Dream and the only way to assure that was a secret identity.

 And now… he’d gotten to Theo Innit? Yikes. This was a fucking pipeline to disaster.

“Theo Innit.” The cop murmurs, peering in and frowning at the blanket in Tommy’s car. He holds his breath, eying the blanket and honestly kind of amazed at how completely still Blade was being. It was almost impossible to tell if someone was under there.

If he can just keep it up a little bit longer…

 “Are you aware your back seat window is broken?”

Tommy’s heart sinks and he glances back, chuckling. “Yep! Angry ex-girlfriend, you know how it is.” 

To Tommy’s surprise, the cop laughs at this. “I know what you mean. I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

Tommy exhales in relief when the cop starts to walk away.

The walkie talkie on the cops chest buzzes with activity and gets quieter and quieter as the man walks away. Car theft in the L’manberg district, descrip….

A muffled scoff from the back seat. “An ex-girlfriend?”

“I have girlfriends! Girls love me! Women flock to me. That’s not hard to believe.”

“No, you don’t and yes it is.” Blade muses and Tommy would turn around and fucking thump him if it wouldn’t be so obvious.

“You’re just jealous. I’m gonna turn you into that cop if you don’t watch your mouth.”

“And the name Theo Innit? The best you could come up with was Theo Innit?” 

Tommy gapes. “Shut the hell up, Blade. I bet you’ve got some dumbass boring name like Dave or some shit.”

After a few seconds of waiting, Tommy can see the cop start walking back towards the car, an unreadable look on his face.

“Well.” The cop shrugs, eyeing the car. “I think you’re in the clear.”

Tommy fights the urge to sigh in relief and smiles. Does he thank the cop? What do people usually say in this situation? 

The moment Tommy opens his mouth to speak he sees something flick past, the size of a wasp shooting straight towards the neck of the cop. Tommy jerks back instinctively and doesn’t have the time to process what just happened before the cop collapses.

There’s a loud thud as the man buckles, and hits the ground.

Blade cracks his knuckles, “Alright. You should probably start driving. I don’t know if there’s more cops nearby and this isn’t really a good look,” and Tommy whips his head around to face Blade. 

Sure enough, the Blade is sitting popped up from the back seat, staring out the window and down at the body like his dog just vomited up its breakfast. 

“What the fuck!” Tommy screams, pressing his foot down hard against the pedal. The car screeches and Blade lurches to the side, being tossed around as the car goes racing away. “What did you just do!?”

“Ow.” Blade says, correcting himself and clinging onto the back of Tommy’s chair to avoid being tossed.

“Why did you fucking do that?” Tommy shouts, the car spinning around the corner as he presses down hard against the gas. 

“Didn’t trust ‘em.” Blade grunts, reaching around for a seatbelt as Tommy haphazardly speeds down the road.

Click!

Tommy felt like he was going to implode, eyes darting from the road to the absolute fucking idiot behind him. “You idiot! We were in the clear, we were fucking fine!”

“You don’t have a licence!” Blade exclaims, leaning forward. His voice is deep in the kind of way where it makes Tommy feel small trying to argue against him.

“Oh fuck off with this high and mighty shit. You’re the world's number one villain and you’ve got a problem with me driving without a licence?”

“I can’t afford to have you get arrested, how else am I supposed to get home?”

“Bullshit.”

“I did us a favour.”

“A favour? A fucking favour, asshole? He was about to let us go!” Tommy straightens out his driving on the road, starting to slow down to a somewhat safe pace.

“He knew the car was stolen.” Blade deadpans and Tommy’s jaw snaps shut. “I heard it on his walkie talkie. He was going to arrest you.”

A beat.

Was that true?

Tommy freezes, his rising and falling chest starts to slow. Maybe Tommy was losing his touch, he hadn’t picked up on that at all. He used to be good at reading people. Or at least, picking up on the details most people would miss.

He’d always thought it would be the best if he moved on. If he forgot all the skills and the memories that went with them, he’d be better off. 

Now, as he peers into the backseat at the villain behind him, he’s not so certain.

 Tommy asks in a small voice, his pitch higher than normal. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Well I wouldn’t say I’m certain, but I am confident.”

Tommy huffs. “You don’t know that…”

“It is very rare that I’m wrong.”

Tommy’s eyes flick over to the mirror and he watches the Blade in the back.

There’s that sinking feeling again. The one he got when the villains jumped in his car the first time around. The same feeling from when Blade grabbed him earlier. It’s like a snake coiling around in his stomach. It’s the same feeling he can’t decide if it’s good or bad or not. Sometimes, he almost likes it. It’s thrilling, a rush, an unapologetic fuck you to the world.

And sometimes it feels like someone is standing on his chest, crushing him. Dragging him down through the ground until he’s gone.

“Did you kill him?” Tommy asks, his voice quieter than he intended it to be.

Blade shakes his head softly. “No. He’ll be fine in a few hours. Probably. I don’t know, Warden said this was a high dose, so maybe days.”

Tommy focuses back on driving and Blade sinks back into his chair. “Okay. Well that’s— I guess that’s good. Dude, I thought you fucking killed that guy.”

“Nah, there’s no point. He might wake up with a bad headache though. I don’t know, I’ve never been hit. Although Aegis would know, Rocket has shot him with it when he’s pissing him off. But remember, we don’t screw with civilians.”

“Right. If it's boring or avoidable.” Tommy sighs, shaking his head. “Listen asshole, if we’re working together you can’t just fucking shoot people whenever you feel like it. Or— or do whatever the hell you did to that guy.”

“It was more of a tranquiliser shot than anything else, but sure.” Blade tilts his head curiously. “Although, I didn’t realize we were officially working together now.”

Tommy backtracks. “Well I mean, no—”

“You know, I’m pretty sure that makes you one of my ‘dumb villain friends’ not that I’m necessarily complaining.”

“Okay, no. Nope. Absolutely not!”

“Oh, I’m sure Angel would be happy to hear of your attachment.”

“You are such a dickhead, man!” Tommy barks back and Blade laughs. “I’m not attached! This is it, alright? This is the last fuckin’ time.”

He wasn't. Tommy wasn't attached, don't be ridiculous. That's crazy! These were villains and Tommy used to be a hero, it sounded impossible for them to even think about willingly working together.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Blade drawls, head tilting to look out the window. “Sure you’re not attached, Theseus. Sure you're not.”

These guys were holding him hostage. He was a fuckin' hostage right now. It might not look like it, but Tommy was absolutely done with these guys. Once this was over, he'd never contact them with that burner phone they gave him or see them again.

No... this was a one time thing. They weren't—  alright, listen. Saying they were working together was a mistake. That's not what he meant.

It was—

Okay, just shut up, alright? He's not attached.

Chapter Text

“Alright.” Tommy pulls up to the side of Niki’s bakery and cafe. “Get the fuck out of this car. Both of us.”

“You’re… coming in?” Blade questions, popping the door open and getting out. 

Tommy shakes his head, getting out of the car. “Nope. I’m taking the subway home. Dude, there's no way I can drive this car home. Not after you shot that cop with a tranquiliser. There's so many cops looking for you and this car that’s, like, trying to juggling knives through airport security.” 

Blade hums in agreement. “Well, thanks for the ride. I technically owe you one but I have a feeling you're not interested in any of my favours so I'm happy to not tell Angel and let it slide."

“Nope. If I ever need a favour, I'll be fucking desperate so just please leave me the fuck alone and we’ll be even.”

Blade hums, staring into the bakery. “You said you lost your job right?”

“What about it?”

Blade waves a hand vaguely. “Niki is looking for workers. You know, new establishment and all. I could vouch for you.”

Tommy blinks. “You want me to walk in there and tell her that Blade recommended me?”

“I mean, yeah. I assume you’re competent enough to understand how to at least work a coffee machine. You don’t have a history for burning down bakeries, do you?”

“I… No.” Tommy cringes at the thought of turning a job down but he forces himself to think logically. “I can’t. I think it’s best if we just go our separate ways.”

Tommy looks over through the window into the building. It was completely normal looking at glance but he couldn’t shake the feeling that taking that job meant signing up for something bigger than just being a waiter.

He could see the interior through the windows; neat brown wooden floors with a little faded pink welcome mat. There was a chalkboard behind the counter where the menu was listed and a massive glass display case for all the food they had. 

It didn’t look evil or villainous. 

Maybe that’s how they get you? It didn't matter, he couldn't get any more involved with villains than he was already.

Blade shrugs. “Niki runs an honest business. It’s up to you. I don’t care, it’s your choice.”

Tommy hesitates. “I’ll pass.”

Blade nods once awkwardly and then points over his shoulder. “Alright, well. I guess I won’t see you? So goodbye?”

Blade sets off down the road and Tommy stands there, idly.

Once again watching as a top ranking super villain walks into Niki’s bakery and cafe.

Except this time instead of having a blood stain in his car, he’s got a stolen car.

List of things to do on Tommy’s to-do list:

• Find a new job that doesn’t put him in a villains debt (Totally not regretting turning down that job. It was a good decision. Right?)

• Go to the bank and put some of that cash the villains gave him into his account. (Sidequest; open a bank account.)

• Attempt to cook dinner and then order pizza

He was already walking towards the bank, hands tucked into his jacket and holding onto the envelope full of money to reassure himself. Carrying this much money around always made him paranoid.

He already had his rent paid and groceries bought, he’d rather put that money towards an emergency fund.

When he gets there, the bank is about as interesting as he expected. 

There’s a line that’s got to be a mile long separating Tommy from the front desk. Tommy looks around the room in boredom, eyes flicking from the large entrance with revolving doors, the massive glass panels along the front, and from boring white wall to boring white wall.

Then something not so boring happens, and the wall fucking explodes.

“Get down!”

Tommy barely has time to open his mouth before the bank erupts into chaos. Everyone in line in front of him either drops to the floor for cover or starts shouting in panic.

He ducks his head, putting a protective hand up to shield his face as debris is thrown across the room where the wall blew up.

 There’s a thick cloud from where the wall exploded and it slowly starts to dwindle away, disappearing slowly. Tommy doesn’t waste any time before ducking behind a pillar to the side, taking shaky breaths as his head rings. It was okay. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

He lets himself fall to the floor, sitting down and risking occasional glances over to where the action is.

“If anyone tries leaving, you’re getting shot.” A voice rings out, an oddly familiar voice. Then there’s a whistling sound and a dull thud. 

“Oohh, yeah don’t be like that guy.” Another voice calls and seriously , they sound familiar, like ridiculously— “Nobody has to get hurt.” 

Tommy’s jaw drops as he looks past his protective pillar and watches the The Angel of Death step through the hole in the wall, the Blade following suit as well as those two tiny fucks from the other day, walking up to the bank counter.

Oh my fucking god, are you joking?

The Angel of Death ignores the way everyone scrambles out of his way, desperate to move as though just being near the Angel of Death meant certain death. Which, honestly, was pretty spot on. It usually did.

“Blade, you’re on crowd control with Rocket. Blink, you’re with me.” Angel of Death states and there’s an annoyed groan, Blink frowning in minor annoyance. Blade didn’t seem to have any expression on his face, instead looking outwardly towards the crowd to make sure no one was pulling a runner. Tommy wasn’t sure if he felt more inclined to keep his head down or try and fucking bounce the second he got the opportunity.

Then there was Rocket who came bouncing forward,  looking happy to be there, fists clenched and raised in front of him. Around his arm were bulky brown and red looking braces, the red simmering with a gentle glow and promise of power.

“How come Rocket gets always gets the fun job?” Blink complains, arms crossing in front of his torso as he follows the Angel of Death towards the counter.

“Next time. Mate.” Angel responds distractedly.

“Try having a cooler power.” Rocket mocks, pumping his fists enthusiastically, his veins lighting up like streaks of magma flowing from a volcano. Tommy wasn’t going to lie, it did look fucking sick.

There’s a split second where Blink hesitates and Blade, as though sensing a terrible decision, turns to look at him. Except blink… well he blinks away. Purple particles twinkle in the spot he was previously and it’s only from years of eye training that Tommy sees where Blink has gone to in the corner of his eye.

He sees Blink mouth something to the woman he was stealing a hat from before disappearing again in a puff of purple. 

“Hey!” Rocket exclaims angrily, fists glowing red as a sunhat is jammed over his face, covering his eyes.

Blink grins from where he’s stood behind the man and Blade lets out a hefty sigh when Rocket swings angrily to strike Blink.

“You mother fucker!” Rocket spouts swears with enthusiasm and it takes everything in Blink not to laugh.

Blink evaporates into thin air with ease, reappearing at the Angel of Death’s side in a heartbeat and all Tommy can think as they fuck around is are they not worried? Are they not on a time crunch or are they too stupid to go fast?
Tommy refuses to believe it’s the latter but the more he meets them, the less sure he feels.

“No, actually, I haven’t thought about getting a better power.” Blink comments with a shrug, ignoring the swears still running off of Rocket’s tongue.

Tommy takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. He digs his palms into his pants, counting his breaths, trying to ignore the buzzing in his head.

Wait, buzzing?

As though the situation needed to get any worse, the sound of static crashes into him like an unforgiving burden. 

“Let’s get moving,” Another voice rings and honestly, maybe just kill Tommy now with how many powered fuckheads were showing up.

Tommy tries to risk a glance, feeling his stomach drop through the ground, shattering the shaky mental floor he was standing on when he sees green crackling in the air and there’s a flash of black eyes with neon green irises. Green hair and steel plates protectively on display on top of a close fitting uniform.

The Warden. 

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this.

“There’s not a lot of time. Can we move our audience over to go sit against the wall?”  

Tommy feels it like a thunderwave against his resolve. Shivers crawl down his spine as the spiky green words of the Warden carve their way into his mind.

It feels like he’s a puppet.

His muscles twitch for a moment, tensing as they work out their new purpose. Tommy feels himself move, like he’s trapped in his own body. He doesn’t bother calling out or shouting in defiance to avoid bringing attention to himself. 

He just lets himself be moved, sitting down against the wall.

The Warden was one of those villains you only really heard about, never expected to be up against. Of course, Tommy was an exception to the rule. He’d met him twice, never under pleasurable circumstances, and even fought him once. He can still…

Still remember the feeling of his trident.

The serrated prongs.

He shakes his head. No. Not right now.

Tommy looks out over the group of people, each one of them trying to make as much distance from themselves and the villains. 

There’s a part of Tommy that always slips back into a support role and Tommy’s pretty sure that part of him will never go away. You spend so long as a side kick, as a healer, that things like making sure other people are okay becomes second nature.

There’s a woman sitting next to him, head tucked down with a purple purse clutched to her side. She has a little kid under her arm, holding them protectively and Tommy’s heart sinks at the idea of any children getting hurt. 

On his otherside, is an older couple who both must have been closer to the broken wall when it exploded. They’re both covered with a white dust from the drywall and they have a couple small cuts from where debris hit them.

“If you all behave…” Rocket sings with a shit eating grin. “Then we can all go home after this, pretend it never happened and enjoy a nice hot drink.”

Unfortunately for everyone else, Tommy did not intend on behaving.

Fuck that. He was leaving.

Tommy should be cowering alongside the group. He should be shaking with fear as the Blink and the Angel of death walk to the front of the bank, using hushed voices as they speak to the woman at the counter and he should be fucking trembling as Warden, Blade (and Rocket, he supposes) patrol the crowd.

But Tommy can’t help but think about what comes next. What happens when the heroes show up— when Dream shows up.

He’s more terrified of Dream than the villains. What does Tommy do if Dream shows up at the bank? 

The question dances on the tip of his tongue, playing freshly on his mind. The idea of Dream arriving soon was more than enough motivation to try and leave.

He wouldn't go back. There is nothing that could be said to him that would make him go back.

He knew it. Dream knew it.

And still, Tommy knew that Dream was going to try.

After a few minutes, Tommy’s starting to work out something that resembles a plan.

It becomes increasingly clear that the villains are trying to get downstairs, where the vault is. That’s the only explanation. Rocket is pacing boredly, hand on his hip as he waits. The other two are downstairs, trying to break in.

Think, Tommy, think.

“Warden,” Blink asks and Tommy’s head snaps over to attention. Blink taps Warden on the side, walking over instead of teleporting (which Tommy makes distant note of), with the back of his hand. “Angel needs your help downstairs.”

Warden nods, his expression hidden behind a mechanical looking gasmask. Tommy does his best to not make it look obvious that he’s watching, although he can’t help but follow their movements.

But this was good, this was fucking great because with only Blade and Rocket up here— they both knew Tommy. The chance of Tommy getting his ass kicked was considerably decreased without Warden up here.

Blade owes him one and whilst Tommy never wanted to take advantage of that favor, now seems like the best chance.

With the Warden gone, Tommy stares daggers at the Blade, hoping to get his attention. 

You know how people say you can feel when people are staring at you? Yeah, well, Blade is the exception. What a fucking joke this is. Tommy would have better luck throwing something at him.

Wait. 

His eyes flick over to the purse on his left. The small shiny purple one.

Bingo.

He considers asking for the purse first, although that conversation probably wouldn’t go well. What would he even say?

Excuse me, ma’am? Can I borrow your purse so I can throw it Blade? Yes, that’s correct— the super villain holding us all hostage.

Yeah, fat chance.

Tommy grabs the purse before he can second guess his decision, aims it at Blade, and fucking launches it across the room. 

It bounces pointlessly against Blade's head, flopping to the ground and Blade freezes.

Hell yes. Bulls-eye.

He stares down at the purse for a second. Tommy thinks he looks baffled beneath the mask, he stares for a few too many seconds at the purse. Blade bends down to pick it up, holding it and probably looking really fucking puzzled beneath the mask.

 If that doesn’t get his attention, he doesn’t know what will.

Blade looks back up, locking eyes with Tommy. Tommy glares at the man and there’s an instant oh-fuck understanding between the two of them. 

If Tommy was being honest, he was entirely relying on the favour system here. 

He was just hoping the Blade would be able to pull him out of this cluster fuck of a situation. Or at least, maybe not brutally murder him?

They hold each others gaze for a moment longer, and then another oh-fuck moment happens. And  the row of windows at the front of the bank shatter, allowing free access for the heroes Blaze, 404, and yeah, you fucking guessed it, Dream.

Nothing could prepare Tommy for seeing him again. No amount of mentally hyping himself up or lying to himself would make Tommy’s reaction anything near okay. 

To say he stops breathing is an understatement.

Tommy stops functioning.

It feels like his eyes are glued to the man. His mind races and for some reason his chest hurts, with such a deep ache that for a second Tommy’s consumed by that pain.

How long will it take him to notice? Because Dream will notice, of course he’ll notice. He notices everything. 

Dream is brilliant. He's smart. Genius, in fact. He's the number one hero. He'd have to be crazy to not see Tommy. Would Dream even come after him or would he hesitate?

Tommy has to get out as fast as he can because every second wasted is a second he gets closer to being caught.

There’s insanity instantly. 

A mass decision breaks out amongst everyone to start panicking. Civilians start running in every direction now that Warden doesn’t have his freaky-deaky hypnotic spell on everyone. 

Blade still looks stunned, a purse in his hands, tearing his eyes away from Tommy and towards the three heroes that were now tunnel visioned onto him.

“Planning on going shopping?” 404 points to the purse. “I think the colour suits you.”

Tommy does his best to blend into the crowd. This wasn’t his problem anymore, are you insane? This was wayyy out of his pay grade.

Blade scoffs, throwing the purse to the side and extending his arms challengingly. “I was starting to get bored waiting for you guys to show up. Seriously, are you getting slower? I figured, what was the harm in robbing some people while waiting?”

Rocket laughs at the digs and a two fingered wave from Blade reminds him to be quiet, and to take a step back. It was terrifying for Tommy to imagine how the villains trained their sidekicks, especially given that these ones seemed so new to the job and clearly inexperienced on the field.

Tommy doesn’t dwell on it, instead he manages to cross the room amongst the crowd, freezing dead in his tracks when he sees a kid kneeling over the man who was knocked unconscious earlier. 

There was still shattered glass all over the floor and Tommy can’t help to imagine how many cuts the boy must have on his knees and for a second, Tommy is that boy, alive but terrified.

Tommy tries to turn his head away to keep moving but oh fuck it, he’s a healer and a softie, apparently. It’s impossible to shake the urge to help others when it’s been ingrained into you since the age of 10. Even if Tommy wasn’t a healer, he’d like to think he’d help the kid. It was the right thing to do.

404 scoffs. “We didn’t take that long.”

Blade laughs humorlessly. “I thought maybe we’d knocked some sense into the hero tower and you’d all finally given up.”

 Rocket grins and mutters something out of earshot to Blade, who’s frown deepens. 404 crosses his arms, facial expressions hidden behind a mask. It was pretty elaborate looking, one of the fancier designs of masks. It was a mushroom hat with what almost looked like a white veil covering the top half of his face. Not that it mattered much, even if the veil fell away, there was another white eye mask underneath.

“I’m gonna look forward to kicking your ass.” Blaze hisses and starts pushing forward, eyes lighting up with a flaming anger. He only stops because 404 reaches out to grab him, holding him back.

Tommy’s throat tightens and he moves over to the little kid, face hidden beneath a mop of black hair. They couldn’t have been much older than seven. 

He crouches down in front of the child, voice low. “Are you okay?” 

The kids eyes dart up, staring with wide brown eyes at Tommy and he shakes his head. His voice is small, like he’s about to start crying. “No my— my dad, he’s hurt! They hurt him.”

There’s a couple cuts on his face, leaving red marks on olive skin. Tommy assumes it’s from the glass that shattered when the heroes arrived.

“Your dad isn’t hurt, okay? I promise.” Tommy whispers, lies slipping from his mouth like it’s his mother tongue. “He’s just sleeping right now, but he’ll be okay when he wakes up. Did you come here with anyone else?”

The boy shakes his head.

“Alright… that’s fine. You’ll be okay just uh— just, come with me.” Tommy extends his hand and the boy takes it, reaching up as they stand and Tommy looks back towards where the action is happening.

His heart sinks right down to his ass when he sees the back of Dream’s mask. The only moderately good thing about this situation is that Dream wasn’t looking at him.

“Tommy, are you hiding from me?” Dream laughs, and creaks open the closet door. “What are you doing in here, kiddo?”

Tommy tries not to let how tense he is show but he’s pretty sure his grip tightens slightly around the kids hand.

“Okayyy... Fuck.” Pretty much everyone else had evacuated at this stage, they were becoming more and more of a target by the second. Tommy tries to ignore the fact they were now in what many would consider mortal danger. It doesn’t work very well.

“Dream?” Blaze grins. “Just say the word.”

“Just say the word. I’ll be there.”

Tommy blinks away the thoughts springing to mind. God, now was really not the time for a panic attack.

There was something about Dream that completely messed with his head. Whenever he was nearby, it was like Tommy couldn’t think straight. His thoughts crossover, muddling together and he can’t make out what’s meant as something good or bad.

Dream was bad. But Dream had sworn to protect him.

Dream is hunting him. But Dream cares, Tommy knows that.

But...

“Are we leaving?” The little kid whispers.

Tommy’s not going back.

He manages to move his head away just as he sees the back of Dream’s head tilt, staring down Blade. Tommy starts walking towards the nearest exit, all but hugging the wall and trying to crouch down to some effect.

“What’s the point of this, Blade?” Dream calls across the room. “I mean, a bank? I didn’t realise the villains were going broke.” 

Blade laughs, shrugging off the comment. “Times are tough, what do you want me to say?”

“Come on, Blade. Don’t you have better things to do than rob a place with a kid?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than kill healers?” Rocket mocks with grief thick in his voice and Tommy’s heart pangs when he overhears it. There’s that pain in his chest again, like there’s a fishhook sunk into it and Dream’s got the line.

Dream’s tone goes flat. “So that’s what this is about?”

Blade shrugs but Rocket gives it away. Rocket’s mouth opens to rebuke before it shuts again smartly and he waits for some kind of sign to fight from Blade. 

A door swings open and the Warden walks through, eyebrows curled inward in a frown. “Blade, why didn’t you tell us the heroes were here? What’s going on?”

“Noise complaint.” The Blade says jokingly, waving a hand towards the heroes and pulling out his battle axe from where it rested on his back. “Nothing major.”

Seeing the heroes is enough for the Warden’s body posture to swap defensively. He glides his trident off it’s place on his back with ease, swinging it into his hand with urgency.

It feels like the tension in the room is raised another 10 levels.

The Angel of Death enters shortly afterwards with Blink in tow, carrying a large cardboard box filled with god knows what. 

The feathers on his wings puff up involuntarily. “Jesus, what did I miss?”

“Nothing.” Blade answers cool-ly.

“Nothing?” Blink exclaims, going tense.

Warden scoffs. “Blade, you should have pinged us.”

“Nah, we’ve got this covered.” Blade shrugs.

“Dam right we do!” Rocket responds and Tommy’s pretty sure he might faint when a fight breaks out. 

Blade goes straight for Dream, swinging his axe around with blows that are aimed to kill. 

Dream narrowly avoids each strike, dashing with expertise. To a civilian, it would look like Blade had the upper hand. But it wasn’t like that. No, Dream liked to play into the other person's fighting style so he could find weaknesses. Act like the other person is in control of the situation and then pull the rug.

404 clasps his hands together and ten other versions of him flicker to life, racing towards Warden. Angel locks eyes with Blaze, both of them walking towards each other in a silent fury. Blink draws a staff with a a thin curved blade at the top and bottom, slowly walking after him.

Tommy does what’s in his best interest and makes a beeline for the exit, tugging the kid along by the hand. 

Blaze throws his hands out, fire erupting in every direction, streamlining to injure the Angel of Death which he boosts himself over using his wings. Blink grits his teeth and disappears, reappearing to the side and striking against Blaze who easily dodges.

 Tommy nearly loses an eyebrow when one burst of fire gets too close. He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut instinctively as he yanks the kid he’s trying to protect closer to his chest.

When Angel lands again, Blaze goes dashing into him, tackling him to the ground. 

“I’ll fucking fry you!” Blaze screams, fist drawing back as fire licks his skin, a furious shade of red and orange.

Angel grimaces, chucking him off with a grunt and Blaze is thrown back almost immediately, managing to catch himself and land on his knees. Blink goes racing over, bladed staff positioned offensively.

 Tommy blinks rapidly and pulls the boy closer to his body. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was breathing quickly— too quickly.

Dream was too close. The heroes were going to see him and take him back. Tommy was— oh God, he was really going to die this time. He wouldn't be able to survive that again, would he? No he's missed too much training. It would be worse. Schlatt wouldn't ease up on the rules. Dream would be stricter.

This was really going to be it. After everything, this is how Tommy is sent back. Which was terrible because—

“Open it, Tommy!” Dream smiles playfully, shoving Tommy’s shoulder. “The suspense is killing me.”

“Okay, okay!” Tommy laughs and his fingers swiftly undo the ribbon which was holding the present lid on top. He pulls it away without hesitation, eyes falling on a brand new pair of headphones.

Tommy picks them up carefully, using both hands and his eyes flick up to Dream.

Because uh— well it was terrible. It doesn’t matter if they had… good moments…

“They’re so you can listen to music when we’re on the move.” Dream explains, taking the headphone wire and unravelling it. “You know how sometimes you freak out when we’re on the field?”

Tommy nods eagerly, eyes gleaming as he looks down at the headphones.

“Yeah, well,” Dream shrugs. “I noticed that when we were leaving and the radio was playing… you’d start to calm down. Obviously, if you’re going to freak out everytime someone fires a gun or whatever when we’re working, then we have to take you off the field. But with the headphones you won’t be a liability. Tommy, with the headphones we can be partners.”

Tommy blinks back happy tears, rubbing a thumb over the cushioned part of the headphones.

He… he meant something to Dream. Finally, Tommy was a part of the team. He was more than just a driver, Dream trusted him. Dream cared about him.  He was good to Tommy, he helped him. He gave him a home, a job, a purpose. 

And music, well, that was the greatest gift of all.

Tommy felt faint, his head was ringing. Dream was bad. No, that wasn’t entirely true. Dream cared about him and looked out for him but Dream cared about other things more. Dream was good but in all the wrong ways.

It didn’t matter if Dream cared, he could never forgive Tommy now.

No, if Dream had been killing other healers since Tommy had walked out then he’d have to do something a hundred times worse to Tommy. He couldn't let them die in vain.

A tugging on his hand drags him back into the action and Tommy clicks back into place as though he’d never left. He manages to cross the room, letting go of the kid's hand so he can run forward to the exit.

He would make it out a lot faster than Tommy but that was for the best. Should Tommy even go back to heal the injured man? Was that big of a risk even worth it?

The Angel of Death uses his wings to boost him, zipping behind Blaze and slams into his back while Blink distracts him. Angel forces Blaze down and unconscious from the impact of the hit. It happens quickly, like the snap of a finger. 

Tommy doesn’t have time to process what just happened before Angel is moving on. He doesn’t miss the tight expression on Blink’s face as he follows to see where Angel is heading.

Blaze’s fire disappears almost instantly once he’s knocked out. One minute there’s fire shooting out in every direction and the next it shrinks down into the size of a match, like it never roared furiously in the first place. 

It’s scary how quickly the flames are extinguished, leaving nothing behind. 

As though they never existed at all.

No. No, it's not worth going back. He needs to go for the exit and he needs to fucking book it as quietly as he can. The villains and heroes are a hell of a lot less likely to stop a kid from sneaking out than him.

Blade and Dream have changed their tactics. Blade pushes forward and forward, striking and aiming blow after blow but missing. Somehow Dream manages to dart out of the way every time, missing by a hairs length. He swerves on balanced feet, not with light steps but with fluid ones. He moves to a beat that’s constantly changing, only audible to himself.

Tommy can see the Warden is getting frustrated, as is Rocket. The two of them strikingout against 404’s double ups reminds Tommy of fireworks. 

Angry green sparks fly of the Warden’s trident every time it connects with a version of 404, and Rocket takes care to shoot his explosive powers at the foot of the double ups.

Tommy wonders if he learnt that lesson the hard way. Had he ever shot through a fake double up and hit something or someone behind it?

Together, their power was a colourful party trick that was good at keeping the number of double ups down.

The double ups are all brainless things, with only a few focused on attacking them and the rest moving in odd reflective ways of 404 to disguise the real one.

Warden calls something out and even though the words are lost on Tommy, he still gets that cold chill against his skin like they were meant for him.

Right now, because of 404’s double ups, Warden’s being put to the test. The most powerful part of 404’s double up skill is that because they aren’t real people, Warden’s ability doesn’t work on them. So whilst the real 404 might be frozen in place, his doubles still have free roam.

If Tommy had to guess their strategy Warden is using his ability to try and control 404’s movements while Rocket quickly surveyed for the double up he thought could be 404.

 There was always an ability drawback though, especially with more powerful abilities.

The more the Warden uses his abilities, the more it fucks up his throat. There’s only so many times he can use his power before needing to rest. 

What Rocket’s drawback was, Tommy didn’t know, but he looked more tired and frustrated than he was previously.

It looks like Warden is losing. He's getting more desperate. More frantic in his heavy handed swings. Tommy watches as Warden commits to a last minute decision, deciding to throw his trident at where he's pinpointed the real 404. It's so uncharacteristic, Tommy would have never predicted it.

What were they looking for and why were they so desperate for it?

Tommy’s not sure how he manages to figure out what’s real and what’s not amongst all the chaos of a fight but the trident finds its mark and 404 crumbles to the ground with a shout of pain, ending the dangerous dance. The trident had pinned his shoulder, cutting through in a nasty way that left blood splashing out and pooling down his shredded shirt.

His duplicates disappear in a flash, his hand flying to his injury as the Warden strides over victoriously. 

Almost instantly afterwards Dream appears at his side and Blade lunges forward, smacking into the ground as his opponent disappears. Dream doesn’t hesitate to put himself between Warden, Rocket and 404, taking up a defensive pose as 404 hisses and takes shaky breaths to try and stop himself from panicking. Tommy does the same, his chest heaving, but from an entirely different reason (and if Tommy squeezes his palms tightly, trying to crush the light that was blooming in his hands, nobody would ever know.)

Blade glares desperately at the spot Dream stood only seconds before, a confused and angry look flashing in his expression.

Dream’s ability was powerful. 

He had a hallucination power. The ability to make people think they’re seeing something they’re not. So whilst it looked like the Blade was fighting him, he was causing hallucinations to make it look like the real version of himself was invisible while a fake distracted Blade.

Dream swings his hand back, weapon glinting and slices downward. Warden barely has time to throw an arm up in defence before it’s brutally slashed down onto.

Rocket is fast to act, all things considered. He holds his fist out, shaking as it is, and when it starts to glow red hot Dream doesn’t even need to spare a glance to put a stop to his attack. Instead, Dream raises a flippant hand and waves. A wall matching the white tile of the bank shoots up to separate them and Dream quickly shifts out of the way.

Tommy knew it was a fake wall. All the villains knew it was a fake wall. But for someone new to the field like Rocket? It gave Dream just enough time to move.

 Warden yells gutteraly, feet planted to the ground and refusing to fall even as Dream brings his arm back barely a second later to strike again.

He plunges his knife somewhere deep, there’s a squelching noise and Tommy’s vision swims because that could be him.

Tommy was stupid to come here. Tommy was next.

There was still Blade standing by the entrance now, and 404 had made his way over to collect an injured Blaze. They were near enough to see him, but hopefully not stop him, so Tommy sets a quick pace while keeping half his mind on the fight.

In the split second it takes Dream to wind back up for a third time, Blink appears at Warden’s side, thin staff extended in front of them both to protect against the dagger which smacks against it.

“Blink-” Warden gasps in surprise, voice rocky and rough as he falls onto his knees. 

It looks like something out of a movie. Tommy can taste copper or bile or maybe just the flavour of dread in his mouth as Dream grabs onto the staff with his hand and yanks it with such ferocity that Blink goes fucking flying.

If Blink wasn’t so lanky looking, if his eyes didn’t widen in surprise at the hand gripping his staff instead of the expected attack, if Tommy didn’t notice the way his footing was entirely off and his stance shifted in surprise as Dream changed his attack, then it would have seemed unrealistic for someone to be tossed around like that.

But Dream notices the same imperfections that Tommy notices because Dream practically raised him and how could you overlook such a simple mistake? 

The worst part is that Dream is strong enough to pull off such a ridiculous move so when Blink gets thrown to the side, rolling with his staff still desperately in his hand and making a raucous clatter against the floor, Tommy knows he’s not imagining things.  

It’s the worst possible timing. Just as Tommy makes it to exit, halting to a stop as there’s a loud cracking noise and Blink hits the ground, rolling to a stop in front of him. 

“Holy shit.” Tommy murmurs, watching as Blink stirs a few feet away from him, a soft pained groan escaping his mouth and a murmured ‘Warden’.

He knows it’s not something he’s imagining, but Tommy wishes it was anyway.

“Holy shit!” the Angel of Death exclaims, using his wings to soar low and sweep through the double ups of 404. They flicker and disappear when his feathers cut through them but Angel doesn’t even seem to notice as he goes rushing to Warden’s side, the most immediate threat on a teammate, and surveys Blink like he’s a baby bird who just took a harsh tumble out of the nest.

“I’m fine.” Warden grits out and Angel doesn’t hesitate to give him the sharpest, dirtiest look.

“Oh… god.” Blink moans, knees curling into his chest. “I think I broke a rib. What are they feeding you guys? I think I… I tore my stitches.” 

Blink sits up, clutching his chest and cringing, mouth pulling down as pain rockets through his body. He does a double take when he looks at Tommy and then goes completely still. “..Are…aren’t you that driver from like a week ago?”


It’s like the air is sucked out of the room. Tommy can see it all happen in slow motion. The moment everyone's attention shifts.

Blade’s cape brushes Tommy, and it’s by sheer force of will that Tommy bites his tongue and swallows a physical reaction, as he steps forward, in front of Blink to protect him.

Angel was stood protectively in front of Warden and a reappearing Rocket with confusion and anger thick on his face. Warden was awake and getting to his feet, held up by the deadly look he was reserving for Dream and Dream’s determined stride towards Blink.

Except Dream isn’t going for Blink.

He’s going for Tommy.

Chapter Text

 He’s going for Tommy. Holy shit, he’s going for Tommy.

What does he— oh god, he needs to find a weapon.

A something— anything!

There… Why is there nothing to use to defend himself?

Dream’s cape was a darker shade of green than his suit, swaying behind him as he started walking towards Tommy. The tiled floor of the bank makes Dreams' steps louder, like he’s matching Tommy’s breathing.

Tap, tap, tap and with every breath there’s a dreaded thud, thud, thud in Tommy’s ears as his pulse races.

Every echoing beat of Dream’s determined movement is reflected by Tommy’s fear.

He wasn’t afraid (A lie. He was, respectfully, pissing his pants) but God, there was something about Dream’s mask that never failed to send shivers crawling down his spine.

It’s like he can feel Dream’s eyes on him. Hidden behind the same cold black dots of a smiley face they always were. It made Tommy feel faint; like he could collapse at any moment.

It was the lack of expression. The mask Dream wears, a white background and black smiley face. It’s emotionless. You can’t see the look on Dream’s face as he fights. There’s no way to tell what he’s thinking, feeling, seeing. Tommy relied on being able to read Dream and when he was in work mode, it was impossible.

It's difficult to distinguish a villain from a hero that shows no empathy.

Blink was still complaining about being thrown, groaning as he stands up in front of Tommy and clutching his side in pain. 

“Ow,” Blink cringes, his face dropping as he stares at Dream. “I think he broke something.”

“Breathing?” Blade whispers back.

“Positive.” Blink mutters, struggling to his feet.

“You mother fucker!” Rocket shouts at the top of his lungs, temper fueling the burning explosive power in his fists. Dream continues his strut forward and Tommy’s mind is a mess; this junk drawer which someone had emptied out onto the floor and started frantically rummaging through.

What if that’s not the real Dream? What if Dream appeared behind him and grabbed him?
Nobody would notice until it’s too late. If Dream did it right, which he always does, he’d keep everyone else distracted while he took Tommy.

Tommy’s stuck in place, not because his feet are too heavy and stubborn to move, but because he can feel himself slipping underneath the floor.

Blink stumbles, arm throwing out to try and catch his balance and Tommy instinctively grabs him, keeping him steady. Blink lets it happen, resting his weight against Tommy, too pained to do anything different. Tommy thinks that his heart is pounding so hard, Blink will be able to feel it.

Then Blade stiffens in front of them and it’s enough to make Tommy that maybe he has eyes on the back of his head and Tommy really shouldn’t have touched Blink, even if it was to help him. Tommy’s already getting ready to push Blink off of himself when Blade looks back but stares between Tommy and Dream. It happens fast, not long enough to risk any real danger from looking away from Dream’s approach for a second, but there’s a question there.
There’s a curiosity in Blade’s gaze that Tommy doesn’t care for. Not even a little bit.

Dream pulls out two daggers from his waist to dual wield as he walks towards Blade, Blink and Tommy. His weapons glint in the light, reminding Tommy just how sharp and deadly they were when used correctly.

Tommy hurriedly but not roughly detached himself from Blink, fists clenched as if he could punch his way out of this. The crescent shaped nail markings that turn red in his palm beg to differ.

Blink’s jaw sets resolutely as he raises his staff but even Tommy can see the effort it takes for Blink to not use it like a walking stick. At the least, there was Blade. 

Axe brought up threateningly, a dark red ribbon tied around the hilt. The metal glints in the lights, so sharpened and polished that Tommy can see the Blade’s reflection in the steel.

“Move out of the way, Blade.” Dream says like he’s scolding a child, not the fucking Blade. Tommy could see the way Blade tensed, his fist clenching around the handle of the axe. There were gears turning in Blade’s brain, Tommy knew, and with the sideways glance that Blink was offering Tommy despite being dutifully ignored, he was realising something too.

They didn’t know why Dream was aiming for a random civilian and not them.

“The plan just changed.” Blade calls back, a threat in his voice. 

Tommy’s breath hitches in his throat, because of course the villains were about to make this situation infinitely worse, and he stumbles back a few steps. Blink grabs him.

Blink fucking grabs his wrist, tightly, and stares at him.

A silent command. Stay.

 Tommy attempts to send back his own ‘no’ but is pretty sure the message he gets across is more akin to someone screaming.

Dream comes to a halt and so does the Angel of Death, staring in shock. If Tommy was thinking more clearly, he would have noticed that Warden had slipped away, too injured to be anything but useless. The heroes often did the same when someone was injured and it wouldn’t surprise if Blaze was also trying to stumble his way out of the area.

“Blade, what are you doing?” Angel warns and Blade doesn’t spare so much as a glance. It was a good question. What the fuck was Blade doing? 

Tommy’s completely still behind him, forced to watch in mild horror as the events played out in front of him.

“Let’s just retreat!” Rocket yells out. “We got what we need.”

“Really, Blade?” Dream has an amused tone in his voice as he scolds him, letting his head flop to the side. “Are you sure this is what you want? Warden’s down, Blink’s injured, you lost your number advantage. You really do need it.”

Blade hesitates and Tommy meets his eyes in the reflection of his axe head. Tommy’s stomach flips when he meets his eye. He looks… worried? Confused? Lost in his own head?
Tommy doesn’t know, but it’s not the sort of look you want an axe wielding murderer to have.

There was something unreadable, a questionable element that no matter how long Tommy stares, he couldn’t decipher.

It was impossible to tell if it was because Blade doesn’t know what he’s doing either or if the man is just good at hiding his real intentions, but his gaze hardens after a minute and he looks back towards Dream.

“Yeah. I’m pretty damn sure.” Blade takes a few steps forward and Tommy realises he's forgotten to breathe until now.

“What on earth is he thinking?” Blink mumbles and if he’s expecting Tommy to answer, the man has another thing coming because Tommy’s keeping his mouth fucking shut. Blink swings his staff baton around theatrically as he keeps a safe distance behind Blade, close enough to provide back up but far enough to not get in the way.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing.” Dream threatens. 

Blade stalks forward, axe at the ready. “Maybe, but I know you’re trying to do something, so I can at least stop that.” And then Blade dashes towards Dream, swinging an axe down that clashes against his two daggers. Dream doesn’t— can’t— hold it for very long and pushes himself out of the way as quick as he can manage.

“Don’t be stupid.” Dream hisses, shoving Blade back. His boots skid against the tiles loudly and Tommy rears back at the sound, a hand flying up to cover his ears.

Dream was rushing down the hall of the hero tower, racing to get to the next meeting. Tommy could barely keep up, his shoes were squeaking against the freshly cleaned tiles. It wasn’t like Dream was going to slow down just to listen to Tommy complain anyway.

Dream snorts. “Tommy, we’re partners, okay? Do you like being my partner? Because some people aren’t as forgiving when their partners make stupid mistakes. Or say stupid things.”

“I.. I guess. Yeah, of course I do.”

“Good. Just because we’re even today, doesn’t mean we’ll be even tomorrow. It’s a give and take situation. Do you understand that?”

Tommy stops following Dream, coming to a sharp stop. 

Dream does a double take, scowling when he sees Tommy. “Stop acting stubborn, okay? Tommy, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now.”

“It’s not bullshit, it’s how I feel.” Tommy straightens up, crossing his arms. “We’re even, Dream. I want out. I don’t want to keep doing this anymore.”

He wasn’t going to take this anymore, he’d had enough. Even if Dream was going to be angry.

Tommy has to shake his head, hissing under his breath. This was all wrong. What the fuck was even happening? He was watching Blade of all people defend him from Dream. From the heroes.

“Hey, Team?!” Blink yells and it sends Tommy’s skin crawling. “Help would be appreciated.”

Tommy looks back up and sees the positions have changed. Blink was in the thick of it now, teleporting around erratically and trying to score hits on Dream whenever possible. Blade was picking up his axe from the ground hastily, turning back around with a tight grip.

“It didn’t have to be like this, Blade!” Dream calls out. He manages to knock Blink’s onto the ground, this time the staff scattering away. Dream raises his foot above Blink’s head and Blink winces, turning away and holding his breath before disappearing into a pop of purple.

Dream stamps his foot down angrily, turning just in time to see the Angel of Death launching himself with his wings into the air. Tommy falls back, watching in awe as he takes flight. 

“No!” Dream barks and Tommy’s expression switches to horror when the Angel of Death lunges for Tommy. He barely has time to scream before he’s dangling in the air, being carried by the Angel of Death.

The. Fucking. Angel. Of. Death.

“Holy shit!” Tommy screams, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Sorry mate.” The Angel of Death secures him a bit better and Tommy practically holds his breath the whole time, waiting until he can actually feel the ground beneath his feet again.

He considers thrashing around— decides that would only result in him splatting against the ground, and then chooses to cling onto the Angel of Death for dear life.  

“Rocket, will you please help Blink?” Angel asks, not commands, and there’s a happy ‘mhm!’ reply of agreement that Tommy can’t quite make out.

He feels himself sway when the Angel of Death changes direction and Tommy’s grip tightens even further. He hated this. Hated having no control over where he was going.

“Blaze, don’t let them leave!” Dream shouts and Angel tenses beneath Tommy’s hold. Tommy’s eyes snap open instinctively and he stares in Dream’s direction. Despite the mask, he could feel Dream’s eyes on him. God, he was going to be sick. “No matter what, do not let them fucking leave.”

 Tommy’s more surprised than anything that Blaze was still here because next what happens is Blaze gets a deadly grin on his face.

“On it!” Blaze shouts. What looks like a whip of white hot fire moves straight for them and smacks the Angel of Death’s wings, causing him to be knocked off balance and them to go crashing to the ground.

“Angel!” Blade uses his full chest when he shouts out to them.

It’s like a blanket is thrown around Tommy. Angel wraps his wings around him when they smack into the ground, sliding from the force of the impact. 

“Shit.” The Angel of Death murmurs, unwrapping his wings and groaning from the impact. Tommy pushes himself up, hands heating instinctively as the urge to heal trickles down his fingertips.

He fights it back with gritted teeth, struggling when the Angel of Death makes a pained noise and holds the back of his head, moving his hand away to check for blood. 

Fire shoots out all around the bank, acting like barriers and divisions between locations. It’s controlled enough to not set the bank on fire, but enough to create no safe way out.

Angel does a once over of Tommy then looks up towards Blade. “We’re all good!”

There’s a swooshing noise as metal crashes into the ground and Tommy’s head snaps up. He can see Rocket blasting for Blaze’s head and Blink taking on 404 at the same time.

Blade grunts in reply, aiming to take out Dream. Blaze changes the direction of his fire, dropping his walls of fire into a simmering stepping stone and instead sends flaming projectiles towards Rocket.

Blink barely manages to jump at Rocket and teleport him out of the way before the projectiles hit. It reminds Tommy of the injury that Blink had a little bit ago. Was he fully recovered yet or still a liability? They didn’t have a healer, he knew that much. How long would he be out of commission once this was over?

 The Angel of Death forces himself to his feet and Tommy moves out of his way. They both watch as Dream tries to cut Blade down, causing him to jump back and swing down twice as hard.

Dream wasn’t aiming to disarm, he was aiming to kill. 

It’s not just Tommy who notices, the Angel of Death can see it too and he makes a small noise at the back of his throat. 

“You should run, we’ll distract them.” The Angel of Death states.

"Into one of the walls of fire? Yeah, great idea, wiseguy. Don't tell me what to do." Tommy hisses and he swears he can see the Angel of Death smirk beneath his veil.

"Hide until the wall is down. Then get out of here." And then the Angel of Death goes running towards Blink and Rocket, taking a small baton off his hip and flicking it, allowing it to extend out of its retracted state into a heavy metal staff.

Tommy blinks as everyone except him seems to jump into action. 

The Angel of Death was right about leaving once the walls were fully down because almost the second that he joins the fight with 404 and Blaze, the walls drop and all the fiery attention that Blaze was spreading out is focused on him.

With the exits being clear as Blaze redirects his attacks, Tommy looks around briefly and then once he can find the closest exit, he starts sprinting. 

A feeling beyond a grateful relief floods his chest. It fills him like a water hose is filling his body with warmth to knock the cold parts out.
His heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might beat out of his chest as he practically throws himself outside the bank doors.

His stomach sinks at the slowly rising sound of cop cars. He can hear their sirens ringing like a faded melody and he knows that running isn’t an option. If he’s running, he’ll get stopped and questioned. If he’s walking away, that’s honestly probably more suspicious. If he hides...

He scans his surroundings, finding a suitable alleyway to take cover in. Tommy dashes towards it, stomach knotting with dread as he tries to find somewhere suitable to duck behind.

“Give me a fucking break.” Tommy groans. It was fairly empty. A fire escape that was too high for him to reach, stray pieces of trash, damp brick walls on all sides, a discolored looking puddle on the ground and a couple pipes that trail up the buildings like vines. There was a door leading into a building, but Tommy was betting money on the fact it probably led straight into a restaurant kitchen and there’d be someone in there, just waiting to hand him over the cops.

He freezes when he looks at the dumpster. Tommy walks over, fingers tracing patterns against the lid. It’s unlocked, the lid pulls open when he attempts to lift it.

Tommy lingers for a moment, uncertainty rocking his body. 

On a scale of one to ten, how desperate was he to avoid getting sent back to Dream?

A cop car goes skidding down the road, brakes grinding as they come to a halt and a policeman exits the vehicle.

Tommy is already inside the dumpster by the time they’ve gotten out of the car and he’s shutting the lid on top of himself by the time a second cop car is starting to pull up.

The answer is very, very, very desperate.

The smell is almost unbearable, he’s practically holding his breath the whole time.

More and more cop cars start pulling up, tires squealing as they grind to a halt and Tommy can hear the clamor of voices and shouting outside.

He’s deadly quiet, slouched against one wall of the dumpster and trying to ignore the fact he’s sitting on something squishy.

Tommy accidentally puts his hand in something wet and audibly gags, covering his mouth with the inside of his elbow.

This was so fucking disgusting. Literally never again. You would have to pay him to get into another dumpster, this thing smelt so foul.

 He comes to an abrupt halt when there’s a banging noise just outside his dumpster.

Oh shit.

Tommy can barely hear himself think, he’s frozen in place with his heart skipping beats like an out of time song. 

Who the hell was it? Hero, villain, vigilante or cop?

None of them are good news, he knows that much.

There’s the faint sound of footsteps, splashing into the puddle and then a frantic voice that starts to follow after the banging noise.

The voice is muffled, complaining and trailing along the outside of the dumpster.

“Yes, Tubbo—”

It was really difficult to make out the words.

“—fine, I’ll se—”

What the fuck were they saying?

“—utting out! Damn it. I’ll find—”

There’s a loud groan as the furthest side of the dumpster lid creaks open. Tommy squishes his eyes shut from the sudden blinding light, holding his light because holy fucking shit he was about to get caught hiding in a dumpster like some kind of rabid animal.

“—my injury is… it’s fine. You’re so protective, put Phil back on the phone… Sorry, you’re cutting out again. Honestly, if you just wanna pick me up once this shit is over because I am not walking home, that would be appreciated. Try contacting Sam, I’ll stay put.”

There’s a crunching and squishing sound, followed by the lid shutting on them again.

Tommy’s still frozen in place. How the hell did they not see him? Was Tommy kept in the dark or did they just not bother to look before jumping in?

Who the fuck doesn’t check the contents of a dumpster before getting into one?

“Yep.” The man says, his voice no longer muffled like before although it still holds its frantic tone. It even sounds a bit strained. “Okay. Bye, guys. See ya.”

Beep!

The man takes a deep shuddering breath and Tommy is pressed against the opposite side of the dumpster, afraid to move even an inch.

Wh… 

what the fuck does he do?

There is literally no choice he can make that benefits this situation in the slightest.

The man across from him groans in the dark, shifting his weight and causing some of the trash they were sitting on to twist and move.

He can hear the sound of clothing moving and the man winces— he sounded injured. Just how injured, Tommy didn’t know.

 Almost immediately, Tommy can feel his own powers calling out to him. It’s not hard to hold back his powers, but he’s slow enough that they still have a slight glow when he realises.

Tommy wouldn’t have thought much of it but it also completely blows Tommy's cover because it was pretty hard to ignore the bright glowing hands inside a pitch black dumpster.

“What the…?” There’s a rummaging noise as the man reaches for his phone again. He turns the flashlight on and Tommy flinches, rattling the garbage he was sitting on.

“What the fuck! What the—” The man jerks back with a panicked pitch in his voice, hands fumbling as the flashlight flickers and fights to stay on. When they meet each other's eyes, both of them start screaming.

Tommy screams, staring at Blink and Blink screams, staring at Tommy.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so terrifying. I mean seriously, it was fucking terrifying. 

The lights flick off again, leaving them in nervous darkness.

“Don’t scream!” Tommy yells. “Stop fucking screaming, you’ll get us caught.”

“Stop screaming?!” Blink shouts back. “You’re screaming too!”

Tommy lunges forward, slapping a hand over Blink’s mouth, “Oh god— just shut up! Shut the fuck up! Shut everything up! You’ll get us both fucking caught! Why the fuck are you in here?”

It was kind of comical to have Tommy’s hand on top of the mask covering Blink’s mouth, but the man took the hint anyway, even as Tommy slowly moved his hand away distrustingly. 

The bottom half of his face is concealed behind a mask but he still manages to look both horrified and pissed off.

“I’m hiding! I have every right to be in here. Why are you in this dumpster?” Blink whispers angrily.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is your name on it? No, I think the fuck not.”

“Alright, whatever.”

“Yeah, shut the fuck up.” Tommy spits. Selfish prick, thinking he owns this dumpster. This was free real estate!

“We can just sit in silence until the cops are done then, dick.” 

After a slightly too long moment, Blink slowly, ever so slowly, starts to lean back.

At first, Tommy thought the slow pull away was on purpose but Blink looks faint, his jaw clenching tightly.

Blink leans back, face contorted in pain and a hand pressed against his side. Almost immediately, Tommy can feel his own powers calling out to him.

“Oh my god.” Blink whispers, clenching his jaw and tipping his head back. Tommy’s hands ached, tingling like pins and needles were setting in where he was biting back his power. Blink shoots him a curious loo.

Tommy could see the injury now, whether it was the same one he suffered when they first met or entirely new, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy knew it was bad before hand, could feel his own powers starting to burn up under his skin with anticipation, but it was bad in a way where it didn’t make sense for Blink to be clambering into a dumpster like it’s another casual tuesday.

Blood was blossoming out of Blink’s torso, spreading like roots across his suit. Tommy wonders if Dream had managed to stab him with one of his daggers or he’d just torn his stitches.

The thought makes shivers shoot down his spine. Tommy’s finger tips start to heat first, not uncomfortable but noticeable.

“What’s happening to your hands?” Blink gasps, shifting back protectively as his nerves flare. Tommy’s eyebrows furrow when the outlines of his hands, his veins, ignite with a yellow-white glow.

How did it take so long for his powers to start burning so brightly?

Tommy wasn’t summoning any of this so for it to be this strong, he knows Blink has to be seriously hurt.

Tommy snaps his head up at Blink. “You should be dead?”

“What?” Blink begins and then Tommy’s hands flare even hotter. This isn’t like hey, you need a doctor, you’re going to bleed out. This is…. This is like verge-of-death-say-goodbye-to-your-wife-and-kids-you-got-maybe-10-minutes-bud, levels of hurt.

Blink did not look anywhere close to this. Although, he had a similar level of fear given the look he was regarding Tommy with.

Then it would seem to Tommy that the universe sensed that the panic levels within this dumpster where unusually high and the best way to solve that would be sending someone to go investigate.
Because next thing you know, the dumpster lid is opening above Tommy and a rough gloved hand is yanking him out.

Tommy flinches hard, reaching an arm up to quickly rip himself free but the second he comes into contact with the person, his vision flashes white.

What he sees is Warden, blood dripping down the side of his head, one forearm messily wrapped in deep red bandages that are actively spilling onto the ground, and a laboured wheeze about him that doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the gas mask. Why the fuck was he not at the base? Why was he still here, injured beyond hell, trying to retrieve a teammate?

Warden wobbles on two bloodied feet, squinting at Tommy for uncomfortably long before turning back to the dumpster with all the balance of a drunken idiot. He grips the dumpster for balance, looks like he’s about to vomit as his eyes drift shut for just a second, and then he reaches into the dumpster again and drags Blink out by the shirt.

Tommy doesn’t know why he’s not running. It’s not fear or shock, rather some weird mix of emotions that leaves his feet heavy and his eyes tracking every movement to see how the events play out. He wonders if maybe it’s his powers, so hot and heavy against his chest it feels tight.

Blink gasps when he sees Warden, the blood draining from his face. Warden is silent as he grabs Blinks hand and then after a few seconds pause, looks Tommy up and down before deciding he’s not a threat and starts to drag Blink into the building next door.

They disappear when there’s no shouting or sounds of fighting, something compels Tommy (a voice in his head calls it stupidity) to follow through the door. Tommy shoves it open, a rusted brown mark scraping the ground and enters into an abandoned looking room that Tommy would rather be anywhere but.

“Ranboo.” Warden mumbles, tearing his gas mask off, and then promptly passes the fuck out.

Blink struggles to catch Warden, lowering him onto a ground littered with loose planks and leaves.

So Tommy is left alone, a witness to a literal bloody, villainous fucking mess. 

Hm.

Okay.

And see this… this is interesting.

Okay.

Hm.

Warden, bleeding out on the floor, a weird last word before passing out, his real identity exposed to Tommy without a mask, now leaves Tommy with even less options than before.

He should run. Why isn’t he running? How far could a fucked up obligation to help others take him because right now, Tommy thinks he’s looking at his fucking limit.

Tommy stares at the expression on Blink’s face, the fear in his eyes and the broken words of promises that Blink can’t fufill by himself coming out of his mouth.

There’s panic thick in Tommy’s chest.
Tommy’s breathing was coming fast and hard, staring across at one of the worlds most powerful villains, passed out in a fucking abandoned building of all places. Blink was glued to Warden’s side. He’d taken his jacket off and rolled it up, pressing it against Warden’s torso.

He was muttering quiet prayers and swears, his red and green visor thrown off and cracked.

“Ohhhhhh, fuck.” Tommy murmurs. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through him, starting to slowly come back down like the end of a rollercoaster. It seems to snap Blink out of his daze because he looks up at Tommy. There’s desperation heavy in his gaze as he looks down at his bloodied hands and then back up towards where Tommy was standing.

“Help me.” Blink warbles, voice shaking. “There’s— there’s a communicator, Sam had a communicator. I need  you to use the channel it’s set to. Ask for help.”

Tommy nods, quickly moves to check the door, carefully. The cops were starting to calm down. There were less and less of them by the second. He closes it tightly, without making a noise.

By all definitions, this was still a shitstorm. But at least it was starting to die down outside.

Tommy moves to Blink and Warden, Sam’s, side with ease. Tommy knew how to take command from years as a hero, it didn’t matter if he didn’t like the villains, he would never want to cost one of them their life.

Tommy’s hands were practically leaking power, wispy white and yellow slipping out. He wipes his hands against his shirt, as though that would do something, and then looks over at Warden’s injury.

He grabs the communicator but it’s impossible to ignore how his powers are practically screaming at him, you can help.  Tommy forces them back with such a fierceness he feels lightheaded as his hands stumble for the communicator button. He tries to press it, panics when the button is jammed, and struggled to figure out if it was from the impact of a fall that broke it or if Warden’s blood had fucked it up internally.

Blink makes a choking noise when he sees Tommy’s problem, shaking his head.

An idea starts to form in Tommy’s mind. A shaky sort of plan that is growing on the foundation of how terrified he is of Dream and the situation he was currently in. Arguably, the idea isn’t a good one, but who the fuck was gonna argue with him?

Besides, it wasn’t necessarily a bad idea and Tommy lets the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“I have healing powers.” Tommy chokes out and Blink’s gaze snaps up at him, suddenly eyeing him with new appraisal and realisation. “If you want I can hea—”

“Do it.” Blink utters and Tommy hesitates because it feels so wrong, but he knows it should be second nature. “Please. Please heal Sam.”

Tommy couldn’t see the full extent of the injury because of the position Warden was in, especially with the fabric of his uniform folding over his side, but he could get a rough idea.

Warden looked peaceful while he was unconscious. A lot quieter and less angry looking.

Very slowly, Tommy risks reaching over, peeling away the blood soaked fabric to get a better sight of the injury. Blink understood what he was doing and drew out a small knife that he had tucked into his shoe. He brought it up to the straps which held the armoured plating and removed the remnants of what was there on Warden’s torso, then started to remove the armoured plating on his arms.

The wound was deep, he could tell just from the sight of it. The clothing around it had been slashed away, revealing pale skin with splotchy red stains.

“Tommy.” Dream grabs Tommy’s hand tightly, with all the strength he has and Tommy fights to keep a strong face. Everything hurt. It wasn’t an understatement to say Tommy was in the most pain of his life. But for Dream it was worth it. 

“I’m sorry.” Tommy murmurs. “I wasn’t ready.”

“You’re ready.” Dream shakes his head in disagreement. “I wanted you to follow my lead, I wanted you to do what I did and we suffered for it. But Tommy, I think we work so well as partners because we’re opposites. Night and day. You’re the support, I shouldn’t have made you fight. Shouldn’t have forced you to do what I did. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Dream thumbs the bandages around Tommy’s hand when he takes it. “We’re night and day, Toms.”

Tommy moves a bit closer, shifting his body so Warden and him are a breath apart.

Tommy moves his hand up to Warden’s face, hovering it just beneath his nose and mouth.

He could feel the warmth of his breath, as shallow as it may be.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Tommy shakes his head and slumps over in relief, not even realizing he was tense in the first place. There was no point in healing someone who was unhealable. Blink looked visibly relieved, but was still eyeing Tommy with caution. Like Blink knew he was breaking some sort of rule but needed to do it anyway.

He shifts to the side, careful to not move Warden but also not make too much noise. He needed to be quiet, there were still cops out there.

Blink catches Tommy’s wrist when he starts to reach out and he opens his mouth like the words are too big to come out.

“If you hurt him anymore than he’s already hurt, I know I’m not that threatening, but I will kill you.” Blink holds eye contact with Tommy. “If you’re not really a healer, I will make sure every villain in this city knows it.”

The words send a cold shiver down Tommy’s spine. He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the threat. The Syndicate had power. If Blink was in the Syndicate, he could take Tommy’s entire life apart faster than he could teleport.

 Tommy clenches his jaw, fixes Blink with a determined look, and nods. “I promise.”
Blink lets go of Tommy with a shaky breath and nods towards Warden.

Tommy touches a hand to Warden’s chest, feeling the heat radiating off of him. And slowly, Tommy pushes some of his power out. 

It starts small, like the feelers of a plant spreading out to get a sense of familiarity. Little threads of gold and white, grazing the surface of the wound. Then his powers show their eagerness.

It starts to weave together, creating a web— a network of lines that start to connect with Warden’s skin, ebbing the edges of the wound and acting with a soft glow.

It’s relieving for Tommy, to finally heal after months of repressing his powers, it feels like a breath of fresh air. It’s more than just a breath of fresh air, it’s a lifetime's worth. Like he hadn’t really taken a moment to just breathe ever since he left Dream.

It almost makes him… nostalgic.

Of the good times (Were there good times?), that is. Of when— 

Tommy doesn’t know what part of it he misses. But something about healing Warden pulls at his heartstrings.

Of course there are drawbacks but Tommy will deal with those later. For now, he just needed to work on stopping the bleeding.

He focuses intently, fixing his gaze on individual strands as they work together, stitching the wound up as though there was never any damage in the first place.

“Um,” Blink begins and Tommy glances over to where Blink was leaning against the wall. Tommy realizes he’s been holding his breath and sits back, taking a moment to pace himself. Tommy realises the entire room was basked in a gentle yellow and he quickly stifles it, an apologetic look on his face.

The heroes had always hated that. How could he have forgotten how much of a weakness that was so quickly?

“Sorry.” Tommy murmurs, genuinely apologetic and Blink just offers a small tired smile.

“It’s okay.” Blink responds sheepishly and Tommy knows he’s lying despite how honest it sounds. “Are you done?”

 Warden’s wound was completely closed, the final glow that surrounded the wound beginning to bleed into his healed skin. 

“Yes.” Tommy whispers and it hits him that he can’t go back. He’s seen Warden’s face, learnt his name, healed him and exposed himself as a healer. It was too much. He couldn’t tell them to just let it go. He couldn’t ask for a small favour because nothing about this was small.

He’d just saved the life of the Warden. 

Tommy sighs, falling back away a bit. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. The air was getting heavy and hotter by the second.

“Thank you.” Blink mutters, eyes drifting shut. He doesn’t seem curious enough to ask why Warden was still asleep, but maybe that’s because the answer was affecting Blink too. He was pained and exhausted. A combination that leads to the best sleep available without drugs.

“Do you want it too?” Tommy offers.

“What?” Blink asks blearily, opening his eyes again. He raises his head so it’s unsupported by the wall he’s leaning against but Tommy can see more than anything how wobbly he is.

“To be healed.” Tommy begins cautiously, feeling the gnawing, biting nausea in his stomach. “Do you want to be healed?”

“If you’re too tired, it’s fine.” Blink responds, which doesn’t make any sense at all to Tommy. Is that a yes or a no? He doesn’t feel great reaching over to help Blink, but there’s a rebellious element in his spirit that reminds Tommy he’s doing this willingly. That nobody is forcing him to heal Blink.

He heals where he remembers seeing Blink’s injury that must never have fully healed. Golden light sews its way into the wound and Blink takes a breath of relief almost immediately.

There was still a pink patch of raw skin left behind once Tommy was finished, but how willing was Tommy to heal it fully knowing there’d be consequences? That every inch of skin he healed was twisting his future closer and closer, intertwining it with the Syndicates.

Fuck that. Blink  could deal with a scar.

“Okay.” Tommy sighs, tilting his head to examine his handiwork. “That’ll do.”

Blink nods, grabbing his red and green visor before hanging it on his belt. “We need to get him out of here.”

“I live pretty close,” Tommy says thinking to himself.

“Oh, perfect!”

“I mean, I s’pose you could steal a car and I could just walk home.”

“What?” Blink jerks back, as though the idea is completely ridiculous and Tommy should have known it. “No, I can’t drive. You can drive us to your place.”

“No!”

“Why not? We owe you anyway, at this point we can’t get any more indebted.”

“Shut up. No, just no. You’re not coming to my house.”

Blink pouts, literally fucking pouts. “But you can’t leave us here.”

He dreads to think about what a bastard Warden will be to move and an even bigger bastard Warden will be to actually deal with once he’s awake. Blink was right though. He couldn’t just leave Warden or Blink here, without any communication to get home. It would end fucking terribly for everyone involved and it was just a shitty thing to do.

So Tommy groans and stands to crack the door of the abandoned building open, relishing in the fresh air and peering out slightly through squinted eyes. And he bides his time.

A bad plan was better than no plan, right?

This was really illegal. Stupidly illegal.

“Get.. up.. You fucker!” Tommy nearly gets smacked in the face as he works on moving Warden out of the building and into a car he’d just stolen and backed up to the entrance of the alley.

Blink had looked proud, dragging Warden out of the building and dangerously close to a miscoloured puddle on the alley floor.

Right now, they’d dragged him to the trunk of the car and were just trying to lift him in.

“Raise his head!” Blink seethes, arms wrapped around the man’s feet.

“I’m fucking trying!” Tommy shoots back angrily, grimacing as he holds onto the man underneath his arms. “Take a step back so we can get his ass in first. Then we can just scrunch him up.”

“What?” Blink responds.

“Fucking move backwards!” 

 Warden ended up being as freakishly flexible as he was tall. It was like trying to move a really, really big cat. A cat that somehow, was still managing to put up a fight while being completely knocked out.

Honestly, the only good thing about this situation was that he wasn’t bleeding all over Tommy.

“I—” Tommy heaves him into the trunk. “Am on a— fuck! A time crunch!”

“No, no, no!” Blink panics as Warden starts slipping out and Tommy catches him by grabbing his face and shoving him backwards. Blink holds on tightly to his shoulder and uses his free hand to try and pull his knee up and fold his leg in.

It was a mess of limbs and a battle of wills. Warden starts slipping forward again and Tommy and Blink both grab him at the same time, unceremoniously heaving the man into the car.

“Oh, you fucking bitch.” Tommy curses, shoving Warden back and letting him clonk like a ragdoll as he slumps over into the back of the car.

 Blink holds his hands out in case Warden slides forward again but he stays still and Blink slowly starts pulling away.

Hm.

“Looks uncomfortable.” Blink commented, digging into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a disk with a dark green light. Blink places it ontop of Warden’s side and Tommy shoots him a funny look. “It’s his uh, his gas mask. He usually doesn’t take it off.”

Tommy files that information away for a later date. “So you’re placing it on top of him?”

“Incase he wakes up in the trunk and wants it.” Blink shrugs. “He’ll be happier to have it with him.”

“Why does he need it?”

Blink furrows his eyebrows at Tommy. “That’s not really information I should give out.”

“Alright.” Tommy sucks in a sharp breath, not really sure what to do with that. Tommy then stares in surprise at the fistbump being offered to him. He fistbumps Blink, respectfully, then looks back at their handiwork.

“Hope he doesn’t wake up before we get to your house.” Blink comments.

“Don’t even fucking breathe that jinx in my direction.” Tommy jokes, giving Warden one final shove and reaches up to slam the trunk close—

CRUNCH.

His heart drops to the floor at the noise. It sounds like two carrot sticks, dully snapping in two.

“What was that?” Blink asks and please, for all that is holy, do not let that be what he thinks that will be. Maybe it actually was two carrot sticks and the owner of the car was a carrot lover.

 Tommy hesitantly, regretfully, turns his head towards the source. “Oh, fuck.”

“Did you just crush his fingers?” Blink deadpans, jaw dropping open.

“No!” Tommy rushes to respond, getting in front of Blink to block his vision as he struggled to figure out what to do. Bile builds in his throat when he sees two pale fingers poking out between the lid and main trunk. Tommy stares at them for a moment, sticking out of the car he was stealing.

It hits him all at once. Like the penny he was watching fall finally hits the ground. The trigger of a gun is pulled. The alarm bell rings.

It leaves him speechless, staring down at the villain, shoved into the back of a red car he didn’t own.

Holy shit, he was smuggling an injured villain in a stolen car.

His mind was reeling— he used to be a fucking hero! A long time ago, Tommy swore to serve and protect. What would his past self think if he saw him now? 

Tommy’s not sure if his younger self would even recognise him.

Tommy swallows the lump in his throat, trying to disconnect himself as he absently reaches out and just— sort of shimmies the fingers back into the car? What the fuck was he supposed to do?

“I’m gonna be sick.” Blink mutters and Tommy grimaces.

“Yeah, think about how I feel. I had to touch them.” Tommy pushes them back in, cringing at the way they contort in any angle he shoves them in.

Once they finally disappear back into the car he has to take a moment to just process what he was doing before continuing. 

“Um.” Tommy swallows the lump in his throat and looks to Blink. “ I’ll heal those once I’m home.”

Chapter Text

In the least suspicious way one can be when carrying a body, Tommy manages to take the Warden up to his apartment uninterrupted. I mean, Blink was there, sort of helping but being more paranoid than anything.

 The man was as heavy as he fucking looked and a right pain in Tommy’s ass to drag up several flights of stairs. 

Tommy makes it to the third floor when Blink points out the elevator they could use for the rest of the way. Tommy briefly debates throwing himself down the stairs for all the pointless effort he just made but decides against it.

Instead he drags Warden by the feet into the elevator, starting to work up a sweat as the elevator dings at the press of a button and the doors start to close. It’s an awkward squish, Blink, Tommy, and the limp pool noodle of a body they’ve got with them but all in all they figure out a way to make it work.

There’s a slight panic from both Tommy and Blink when a tuft of Warden’s hair gets caught in the door. It doesn’t tear off (thank god, how the fuck would Tommy explain that? He couldn’t heal hair.) and the elevator doors open once he’s on his floor.

He bitched at the beginning that Blink could just teleport them up but Blink had insisted it wasn’t safe and Tommy assumes it must be some sort of power drawback issue. By the time they make it to the creaky door of Tommy’s apartment, he’s pretty sure that Blink would have been a hell of a lot more willing to agree in the beginning if he knew what a fucking trek it was going to be to get to Tommy’s room.

How he’d managed to get this far without anyone noticing was an achievement. He’d always known the other people in the apartment building were a bit shady. He never realized they were completely willing to ignore the thudding noises Tommy had been making trying to move the Warden, especially while Blink walked by his side without much care.

With limited help from Blink, Tommy manages to pick up Warden, throwing him over his shoulder despite the way Tommy’s legs protested.  He reaches into his pocket, muscles shaking from exhaustion as he pulls out the door key and shoves the thing open. He nearly drops Warden as he hauls him into the apartment. 

Now where the hell was he going to put him?

The couch is still broken from when Blade tried sitting on it, so Tommy doesn’t bother putting Warden down there. The only other comfortable location would be Tommy’s bedroom.

It’s an effort, but together they manage. It was a weird sort of bonding activity. Tommy haphazardly manages to dump Warden onto the bed, face up and still unconscious as ever. It was sort of amazing that Warden had managed to stay unconscious this long. It wasn’t like Tommy’s power induced tiredness.

He must have just lost a lot of blood and already been sleep deprived.

It looked uncomfortable, the way Warden was positioned, but that wasn’t really Tommy’s problem. Blink stared at Warden thoughtfully, not entirely sure if he should try to move the man or not, and then shrugged it off and settled into an armchair in the corner of Tommy’s room.

“Right, let’s sort this asshole out.” Tommy comments, offering a half smile and looking over to Blink who..

Was he fucking asleep? The Warden’s mask, or rather the disk that Blink was claiming to be his mask was in Blink’s hand, thumb and fingers curled around it protectively.
Head falling back, muffled soft snores escaping his mouth, Tommy thinks it’s honestly impressive. Tommy stares in shock for a solid second before glancing back at Warden. 

God, a nap sounded so good right now but he had a job to do. He was good at putting his own needs aside and tricking his brain into thinking it had energy when he really didn’t.

Tommy definitely needed to check for any more injuries aside from the slashes he’d healed and broken fingers.
He should probably check Blink too, just in case.

Tommy sits Warden up, checking to see if there’s any visible injuries, carefully scanning by using his hands as a makeshift injury detector and hovering when his hands have a faint glow. 

He’s careful not to hurt the man anymore as he lies Warden back down, cradling his head so it doesn’t hit the wall and moving his pillow so his neck would be supported.

He looks softer, if that makes sense. When Warden fought, he was confident. He was quick. Strong. He didn’t show sympathy or weakness and if he did, his teammates were there to cover for him.

In battle Warden was all rough edges. He was a living definition of the phrase silver tongued and had a fierceness about him that meant you never wanted to betray him.

This doesn’t look like the villain Tommy knows. Shit, it doesn’t match his image of the villain he fought when working for Dream at all.

Dream was right, for now it was better for Tommy to be behind a wheel. It felt like his training meant nothing against the man.

Tommy rears back, swinging his dagger forward and slicing down where Warden was standing moments before.

Warden sucks in a breath of surprise when Tommy cuts down onto part of his shoulder. “Fuck!” He turns his glare onto Tommy, eyes glinting murderously.  His power floats through the air with a dangerous promise when he gives commands. “Give me the dagger.”

Everything about this made him confused. How was the villain in front of him the same he’d seen fighting earlier on, how were they the same people? It felt like two entirely different individuals. Two worlds colliding as they cross over.

When he’s satisfied that Warden doesn’t have any hidden injuries, he decides that Warden probably needs his two broken fingers back. He doubts that the man would be too happy to wake up with only eight functional fingers. 

Tommy gently grabs Warden’s hand, mending the bones he accidentally broke earlier.

They’re a much easier fix than the wounds he suffered before. Tommy’s powers aren’t as decorative looking when healing something smaller, they’re more precise. Tommy watches as his power enters beneath Warden’s skin, glowing inside like a candlelight as Warden heals and the bones click into place.

Once Tommy’s sure he’s fixed his previous error, he stands up and glances towards Blink.

The man’s jacket was bloody so Tommy does a test poke to see how easily Blink would startle if woken up. Blink doesn’t even stir. Not a flicker of an expression on his face, even when Tommy rocks his leg.
Christ, he was a deep sleeper.

Tommy gently removes the jacket, cautious not to wake the man despite the fact he slept like a rock.

The fabric was unlike anything he’s ever seen. It has to be a synthetic kind of leather. There’s no holes in it or rips; it wouldn’t be all that surprising if the fabric was designed to absorb heavy hits and cuts. If it was bulletproof Tommy didn’t know but that would just be even cooler.

Tommy can’t help but run his fingers over the purple embroidery of stars that are far too faint to see from far away and far too decorative to serve any purpose. There’s a few pockets on the coat with something heavy inside them and Tommy’s hand hovers around it…

A weapon? A trinket? His brain is still brimming with curiosity but a little part of Tommy feels like it would be an invasion of privacy to look now, after everything.

Tommy puts the jacket down on his dresser, folded neatly. He looks back at Warden and Blink once, scans his face for any early signs of waking up, and when there’s nothing Tommy leaves without closing the door.

He walks into the bathroom, leaning against the sink. 

Tommy’s whole body was starting to ache. He was… exhausted.

Tommy combs his fingers through his hair, taking a shaking breath and looking up at his reflection. His hair was a mess, purple patches of tiredness showing beneath his eyes. They looked more like bruises than anything else.  There was blood on his sleeves, blood that probably belonged to Warden.

He scrutinizes his clothes further, unsurprised to see the grime patches on his jeans from where he was sitting in god knows what in that dumpster. If he had more that two pairs of pants he’d sooner throw these out than ever wear them again but his options were pretty limited.

Tommy takes note of his own injuries, glad to see there’s only a small cut along his thigh, nothing worth anything more than a plaster.

Everything that had been happening after so many months of peace was more action than he’d bargained for. He expected to leave it all behind when he left the hero coalition. 

Don’t get him wrong, Tommy will never hate the rush it gives him.

But there was everything else that came with it. There was the cons of experiencing that kind of adrenaline high; cons that he’d been running away from, desperate to leave. 

It felt like someone had thrusted him back into the deep end with no warning. Everything happening lately was just… overwhelming.

The favors he paid to the villains and the favors he owed, losing his job, his car, healing for the first time since leaving Dream and it was Warden of all people, stealing cars— God, stealing cars for the first time in nearly six years.

And seeing Dream again. 

Well that had to take the cake, right?

Tommy holds his own gaze in the reflection. He looked so impossibly tired.

So, fucking, tired.

He shouldn’t be surprised when he starts to cry, but he is. Not the big, ugly waterworks kind of crying. The silent type.

It was a kind of slow tears, not the aggressive ones. He was too exhausted to sob anyway.

It’s the sort of crying where there’s so much going on inside your head that it just starts to leak out, even when you don’t want it to. Like all the thoughts your brain has been shredding through finally build up and need to be released to make room for new ones.

It was difficult to focus on anything other than the fact he felt like he could collapse. His legs felt weak and his breathing was shaky.

Tommy blinks the tears away as they come but they don’t stop and after a moment he chooses to sit down on the bathroom floor, elbows on his knees. 

Dream had triggered something inside of him again, like a button was pressed that Tommy wanted to ignore and now he was waiting for the button to correct itself.

There was just so much… shit. 

So. much.

Of course Tommy knows there’s a better word for it than shit, but that’s how he feels.

Sometimes you don’t need fancy describing words to talk about your emotions. Not everything has to be one huge complex metaphor for life.

He felt shitty.

Tommy couldn’t let it get to him. He lets his head flop back, taking a deeper breath.

He was stronger than this before, why did he feel so weak now? Why was he starting to crack now, once all the action was over?

It didn’t make sense.

He sits there for another ten minutes, just giving himself some time to process. 

Tommy eventually pulls himself together. He palms at his wet face, wiping away the tears and struggles back to his feet.

There were still things he needed to do.

Tommy takes a heavy breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the burner phone that the Angel of Death had given to him earlier.

He pinches his nose, letting his eyes drift shut as he enters the number.

Please for the love of god work.

It beeps twice, and then there’s an unfamiliar voice.

“Welcome to Jack’s laundromat, state your purpose of calling.”

“Wh? A laundromat?”

“State your purpose of calling.”

Tommy facepalms, were they serious?  “State my purpose? God, it’s a wonder the heroes haven’t caught on—”

As soon as Tommy mentions the heroes there’s a surprised yelp and a click as the call disappears. Tommy jerks his head away from the phone, eyes snapping open in shock.

A beat.

Only the disconnecting noise of beeping.

“Are you fucking joking!?” Tommy yells down the receiver despite nobody being there to listen. 

A long pause of silence. He could feel a pit forming in his throat angrily. He walks straight out of the bathroom, staring down at his phone. Maybe he’d text them instead.

“You didn’t state your purpose.”  Someone rushes him, a hand slamming straight into his chest and pushing him against the wall.

“Just because I said we’re night and day doesn’t mean you have to disagree with everything I say, Tommy.” Dream spits and Tommy struggles against him.

“Fuck you and your opposite bullshit.” Tommy shoves him back harshly. “Why does everything have to be about you? I’m not disagreeing to spite you, I’m disagreeing because it’s a fucking bad idea.”

Tommy nearly chokes on air when he sees Warden, wide awake and looking him up and down. There’s a knife— no a spoon? A spoon in Warden’s hand, shaking with uncertainty.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry! Shit, I swear I didn’t mean it.”

“What?” Warden’s scowl deepens and Tommy notes that he has a slight wheeze in his voice, as if he’s struggling to breath. “What the hell did you do to me? Did you drug Blink? How’d you fix my stab wound? I don’t see any empty healing potions around so you’ve got explaining to do?”

Question after question is fired at Tommy and he barely has the space to breathe. Tommy shakes his head. “No! I didn’t fucking drug anyone or anything.”

“Do the cops know I’m here?”  Warden queries, powers threading through Tommy’s mind like a net.

“No.” Tommy grits his teeth together, hating the tension headache he was going to get from this dickhead using his powers.

“ Did you unmask me? ” Warden shifts uneasily and it’s written all over his face he has no idea what Tommy’s intentions are.

 There’s a sharp scraping pain inside Tommy’s head, demanding he explains and it hurts and Tommy has no reason to fight it so he lets the truth spill from his lips.

“No.” Tommy shivers. “I didn’t. You took your mask off earlier.”

There’s a tense silence between them. 

Warden glares at Tommy, drinking him in before he pulls back. “Where is it?”

“Blink has it.” Tommy chokes out and Warden offers a stiff nod as he backs up towards Tommy’s room. “Why do you need it? I’ve already seen your face.”

“It helps me.” Warden calls from the other room. “Not that it’s your business.”

“I don’t know if you noticed big man, but it was sort of made my business when you passed out in front of me.”

Warden returns, offering Tommy a sideways glare. Warden pressed down on the center of the disk and plates start to slide out as it transforms into a gasmask. After a beat, he answers. “It helps me breathe.”

He presses it against his face and it makes a mechanical hiss as it attaches and Warden takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes for a second in relief. 

“So you took it off while you were bleeding out?” Tommy scoffs. “Yeah, good one.”

“There’s a relaxant in it. If you’re fighting to not bleed out and stay awake, you don’t want to be relaxed.”

Tommy could understand the benefits, but everything in his hero training was screaming that having a relaxant in your mask was a terrible idea. He lets the topic drop, doubting he’d get much information out of the man.

“Why is Blink asleep in an armchair?” Warden presses, head tilting slightly as he stares at Tommy. His voice is about the same with the mask, but the wheeze is gone from his voice.

“He was.. Fucking tired? I guess?” 

Warden squints and turns away, crossing into Tommy’s kitchen and picking up a bowl of cereal that definitely wasn’t there before.

“Hm.” Warden hums. He raises the spoon to his mouth, chomping down on a scoop of lucky charms before putting the bowl down. “I was looking for a knife but you only have butter knives and then I saw you had a strong selection of cereals. It’s the same ones I’ve got— uh, we’ve got at the base. I normally wouldn’t but, uh, when duty calls.”

Tommy eye’s Warden warily and Warden only jabs his spoon in Tommy’s direction. “Listen kid, I woke up in an unfamiliar house without a mask and Blink unconscious on a chair, I have my rights to be suspicious. It’s difficult to announce your presence when you’re a super villain.”

Warden leans back on his heel, placing a hand where his outfit was ripped. You could see the skin beneath, a perfect heal if Tommy did say so himself.

“Right.” Tommy breathes, sort of wishing he could have a bit of that relaxant for himself. “Of course there’s not.”

Warden nods. “So how’d you heal me if you’re not a drug dealer?”

“I didn't use potions, I healed you.” Tommy admits quietly. “My power is healing.”

A pause.

“Is that true?”

“Obviously, twat.”

Warden stares blankly at him. Tommy scratches his head and pointedly avoids eye contact because he honestly didn’t need to see whatever emotion was on Warden’s face.

“That knowledge is dangerous.” Warden says, his voice surprisingly soft. “You healed Blink and I?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Warden mutters and the absurdity makes Tommy’s face heat up. “You shouldn’t trust strangers with that information, let alone villains.”

“I don’t trust you at all.” Tommy spits. “But I’ve already healed you. If I lied you’d just use your power to get the truth out of me anyways, right?”

Warden hesitates. “Probably, yeah. It’s still bold. I mean, if I was you I wouldn’t be telling anyone I was a healer right now. Let alone some stranger that…” Warden trails off when he sees Tommy’s expression slowly sour. “But thank you. You saved my life.”

“What?” That takes Tommy by surprise. He wasn’t expecting Warden to be grateful. 

“For healing me.” Warden explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Most people would have just left me to die and healers are pretty rare. Especially right now because of Dream.” Tommy turns his head away. “So thank you. You didn’t have to take that risk, but you did and I owe you my life for it.” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” Tommy laughs sharply, lightening the conversation. “It’s fine. I just— I thought it would be embarrassing for you to die in a pile of filth and having the last thing you see being Blink in a trash can.”

“Oh, I’d never hear the end of it if I died in that building after digging around a garbage bin.” Warden groans in amusement. “Blade would bully me for it endlessly.” 

“ Everybody would bully you endlessly.” Tommy shrugs. 

“Warden?!” A startled Blink shouts out and there’s a loud thumping noise of something falling, followed by heavy uneven footsteps. 

“Ah, he wakes.” Warden muses. Blink makes it to the door frame then an explosion of purple particles pop out of him and something new happens. 

It sort of looks like, in Tommy’s opinion, that Blink had tried to teleport into the main room but his power was so over used all that happened was he started emitting purple. Blink visibly deflates in relief when he sees Warden, letting out a soft “Oh thank god.” and then starts walking over to Warden. Warden extends one arm and pulls him into a brief hug for a few seconds before Blink… glitches?

There’s a gurgling yelp that sounds like a record skipping over a scratch. A torn yell as he teleports in front of Tommy, who shrieks and swings a punch instinctively from being startled. His hit never meets his mark as his punch seems to phase through a distorted Blink. 

Blink teleports again, his shout garbled through space, as he lands in the living room, then disappears for a beat, and then reappears part way off the ground and lands in a heap back in the door frame to Tommy’s bedroom. Blink catches himself on his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he takes a breath.

“Oh god.” Blink moans, clutching his head. 

“How much have you been using your power?” Warden asks, not mean, but almost caring? Blink carefully brings himself back to his feet, eyes trained cautiously on himself for any more signs of teleporting.

“I’m at my limit. I maybe won't be training when we get back for a few days though.” Blink murmurs, squeezing his hand into a fist and then releasing the pressure. “It’s fine and I mean , you’re fine. Thank god.”

“You’re getting better.” Warden asks after a moment and then nods to Tommy. “We’re lucky this one was in the dumpster with you. Although, I’m not entirely sure how much I think it was a good idea for you to trust him.”

 Blink winces sheepishly, a nervous smile on his face. “He was our get away driver!”

“Ohh, is that why I recognise you?” 

Tommy nods and then shrugs. “Yeah, I’m the guy you fuckers made lose his job after you took my car for a joyride to Niki’s cafe.”

Warden considers that and exchanges a thoughtful look with Blink.

“Why… why were you in that dumpster?” Warden wonders, sounding more confused than anything else.

Tommy scrunches his nose up. “I could ask Blink the same fucking thing. I was in there first.”

“Oh, so finders keepers?” Warden bemuses.

“Yes finders keepers, asshole! That was my dumpster.”

“I was hiding!” Blink laughs in objection. “You’re just the weirdo civilian I found in a trash can, holed up in there like a racoon child.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Warden smiles. “ You don’t have an excuse, Blink definitely does.”

“You’d be surprised.” Tommy bites his tongue because his reason was actually pretty fucking similar to Blinks.

Recognition flashes in Blink’s eyes as he remembers and he crosses his arms. “Dream was going after you.”

He says it more like a question than a statement.

Tommy’s mouth goes dry and he nods. “Yeah, we’re not on good terms.” 

Warden and Blink’s lip tilts downwards in an almost comical way.

 There was a lot that Tommy didn’t want to say— well, a lot that he couldn’t say. He wasn’t ready to talk about any of it, especially with someone like Blink or Warden.

“It takes a lot to get on the  top hero's bad side.” Warden steps forward. “What’s your deal then, driver?”

Tommy’s heart skips a beat when Warden stalks over, watching over Tommy like he was prey. His power was definitely lacing that last question, but it wasn’t heavy or clouding Tommy’s mind like the last few.

Blink was staring rather intensely behind Warden. He wasn’t anywhere near intimidating or intense, but Tommy wouldn’t forget the fight Blink put up in the bank.

“I’m…” He trails off. How the fuck was he going to get around this one? “I’m in hiding.”

Warden blinks in surprise, pulling back. “You?”

“Really?” Blink says, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah me, twats.” Tommy scowls. “Like I said, I’m a healer. Dream’s been going after healers from all over ever since his old selfish fucker of a healer walked out on him.”

He peppers the lie with truth. Dream taught him to do that. Never stray too far from the original path. 

Sprinkles of truth make lying more believable.

 And in a way it was true; Tommy was a healer hiding from Dream.

Tommy just avoids specifying that he was Stitch, the ‘selfish fucker’ who walked out. The ‘selfish fucker’ who, if he just sucked it up and went back to Dream, could avoid all those other healers dying needlessly.

He didn’t actually think he was a selfish fucker… that part isn’t true. Is it? It felt like it was but..

No. No, it wasn’t wrong. Tommy’s in the right in this situation. He wasn’t selfish.

But everyone else seemed to think so, so Tommy might as well play the character.

Blink squints at him and Tommy squints back.

“What?” Tommy challenges. “You don’t believe me?”

Warden watches Blink for a second and then turns to Tommy.

“ Is that the truth ?” Warden lets his voice carry his power, echoing in Tommy’s ears. That time, that time Tommy could feel the power pressing against his chest, wringing out his lungs for words.

“Yes.” Tommy responds unwillingly, like a mechanical robot.

Warden hums, shifting back on his heel. “ Why’d you save us? ”

Warden’s power felt awful. Like an itch in your ear that you couldn’t scratch. Slowly, getting sharper and digging its way into your head. His head was aching from Warden's power invading his mind.

“I didn’t want to leave you to die.”

Warden jerks back. “Really?”

The itching ache of power fades away and Tommy lets out a breath of relief. “Asshole.”

Warden frowns. “Why the hell did you save us then?”

“‘Because I’m not a dick!”Tommy rubs his forehead, trying to soothe the pain. “There were cops fucking everywhere, Dream and his fucking goons everywhere, and you two idiots so I chose the lesser evil. God! Your power fucking hurts.”

“I… sorry.” Warden blinks, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re really not the lesser evil.”

Tommy groans, trying to ignore the fact how real that apology sounded. “You are such a bitch to heal.”

“It’s just—” Warden shakes his head. “Usually when people help villains they want something in return. I just figured that you saved me because you wanted a favor.”

“No.” Tommy scoffs. “I already told Angel and Blade that I don’t do favors.”

A pause.

Blink looks around at his apartment hesitantly, eyes landing on the broken couch. “Are you sure you don’t want a favor? Like completely? Because you should rethink that—”

“Fuck off! My apartment is fine, thank you very much. Are all villains dickheads or is it just you and Blade?” Tommy bursts out and Warden tilts his head curiously.

“Blade’s been here?”

“Yeah, I drove him to Niki’s.”

“Right.” Warden ducks his head and flexes his fingers. “Hey, did you heal my hand? I mean seriously, they feel amazing. It’s so weird.” Warden stretches the two fingers Tommy broke earlier and he feels guilt toil through him. 

“Uhh.” Panic flashes in Blink’s eyes. “No your fingers were fine!”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Tommy continues.

“You’re imagining things.” Blink finishes with an unconvincing nod.

 Tommy picks up the burner phone and shoves it against Blink’s chest. “Here. You need to call your guys, I can’t figure out how. Your dumbass birdman gave me a burner phone that’s broken.”

“He’s not— okay, he’s a bit of a dumbass birdman, but don’t you dare call him that. You don’t have nickname privileges.” Blink says, taking the phone and turning the screen on.

Warden’s grin is evident in his eyes. “I, on the other hand, will absolutely be stealing that line.” 

Blink enters the number and starts dialing. “Oh this phone isn’t broken, you’re just using it wrong. Jack asked you to state your purpose, right?”

The same voice answers again.

“Welcome to Jack’s laundromat, state your purpose of calling.”

Blink clears his throat, looking very excited, before coughing into his hand and gives Tommy a nod to reassure him. Warden gives him a thumbs up and then reaches down to detach his broken communicator from his belt. The time flashes and Warden gives a nod of approval.

Tommy’s eyebrows draw together in confusion and Blink gives him a thumbs up, turning away and smacking a hand against his chest in preparation.

What the fuck was he doing?

Blink makes his voice deep and raspy. “I’ve fucking kidnapped Warden! I’m gonna kill Blink. I’ve fucking got them! I’m—” Blink breaks off coughing and Tommy gapes like a fish out of water. 

“This is so stupid.” Warden mutters, but doesn’t bother to stop whatever tom-fucking-foolery Blink is pulling.

Blink continues, “Ah fuck, my voice. Uh… Come and get them or else they die. They’ll die! Hear me?”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tommy shouts, breaking free and trying to snatch the phone back. Blink stands on his tip toes, the tall bastard, holding the phone just out of reach.

“I’m uh— I’m…. where am I? Hey, why don’t you try to figure out where they are! Come and get them or— shit, I don’t know… I’ll kill ‘em or something.” Blink trails off, his voice getting smaller as he goes before promptly hanging up. 

Beep!

A silence swallows the room almost immediately and Blink clears his throat again, a hand to his throat in a soothing manner.

Blink gives up the phone to Tommy who takes it clumsily, staring in horror down at the device in his hand. 

Warden shrugs, pressing a button on the time and then trails a hand around the counter as he walks through Tommy’s apartment. 

“So anyway, you live here alone?” Warden asks.

The words ‘call ended’ blink on the screen and he can barely muster up the strength to pull his eyes away from the message. He glares at Blink through his eyebrows and he looks unbothered, showing himself around the apartment.

“What the fuck!” Tommy screams. “Why’d you do that?”

“They’ll arrive faster if they think our life is in danger.” Warden answers calmly, cracking his knuckles and pulling out a rickety wooden chair from Tommy’s dining table. “You might wanna unlock your door by the way.”

Tommy’s head snaps over to the apartment door and he starts walking over to unlock it. He didn’t agree with Blink’s method at all but he’d rather not have his door kicked down or broken.

“Rocket  came up with the idea to test how long it takes them.”

Warden leans back in the chair. “They’ll be here… eh, maybe two minutes?”

“Are— are they going to think I kidnapped you guys?” Tommy felt breathless.

“No.” Warden answers and Tommy nearly faints in relief. “They do think you kidnapped us. Which is true but it’s fine. Trust me, when Angel sees it’s you he’ll go full dumbass birdman. He’ll just—” Warden spreads his arms out and hunches his shoulders.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tommy questions.

“You know…” Blink does the same motion as Warden so both of them look like utter idiots together and Tommy’s confusion only worsens. “Ah, screw it. You’ll find out. I don’t know how to explain it. You’ll be fine . I only threatened our lives so they actually show up.”

A beat.

“You’re a dumbass.” Tommy's jaw hangs open. “You’re both genuinely fucking insane.”

“I’m a genius.”

“Those words aren’t interchangeable!” Tommy disagrees, waving his hands wildly. “You’re going to get me killed!”

Warden looks visibly disturbed. “You’re not going to get killed. If you were actually holding me hostage, then definitely. But you’re just… a dude.”

Blink nods. “You’re just a guy.”

Tommy continues to stare in bewilderment and Warden sighs.

“If I’m getting the story right; Blade owes you for when you dropped him off at Niki’s and now you saved my life so I owe you one too. You’re untouchable, alright? Don’t worry about it. They’ll burst through the door and realize there’s no threat. Then we can all go home.”

Tommy wants to argue, but he can’t find the words.

“What’s your name?” Blink queries after a pause and Tommy resigns.

“Theseus.” He answers and the lie rolls off his tongue with a practiced ease. He takes a seat in the chair opposite Warden. Blink comes and sits down with them, making for the strangest dinner group Tommy thinks he’s ever seen.

“I bet Blade liked the name Theseus.” Blink scans his face and Warden nods. “Do you actually not do favours? That’s so weird.”

“I don’t do favours.”

 “ If you don’t do favors and you don’t want favors…” Warden trails off and Tommy straightens himself. “You’re… what? Just a stand up guy?”

“No, far from it. I have an offer to make.”

Warden leans back in his chair, expression unreadable. It irked Tommy that he didn’t know what Warden was thinking. He hadn’t figured out all of his tells yet and what look meant what.

There’s a loud banging noise and all of them snap their heads around just in time to see the Angel of Death and Blade burst through the door.

His entire body feels a shiver of terror when the Angel of Death locks eyes with him, staff in hand. The Blade follows close behind, wielding his axe with both hands. He looks more irritated than angry, immediately looking over at Blink who was swinging on his chair and Warden who offers a small wave.

“I told you.” Blade groans, head flopping back as he jabs his battle axe in their direction. “I knew that he’d be fine. We totally had time to pick up Mcdonalds before saving him.”

“But on the off chance he actually was being threatened, you would never have forgiven yourself for that Big Mac.” The Angel of Death’s feathers are entirely ruffled and they fluff up when they see Blink leaning back and looking over his shoulder. 

Blade shrugs. “I’d have gotten over it.”

“You guys are getting slower.” Blink remarks and Angel swarms him, lunging forward and wrapping him up in a mess of wings. 

“Shut it. You are the stupidest mother fucker in the world. I’m putting a tracker on you.” Angel swears, holding onto Blink. Blink looks over smugly to Tommy and it clicks that this is what Blink and Warden was referring to when he said ‘full dumbass birdman’.

“You idiots. You knew we were going to be fine.” Warden stands and gives Angel a half hearted shove. Angel rolls his eyes affectionately and reaches out to ruffle his hair in a far too family-like way. 

Tommy scoffs. “You’re only fine because Blink just so happened to bleed out in the same dumpster as me.”

“You WHAT?” Angel’s gapes, eyes dropping to the cut marks on Blink’s shirt. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me!”

“I was fine!” Blink brushes off and a glare at Tommy shuts him up. “It was Warden who needed the help.”

“I was fine, the situation was under control.” Warden says, as if Tommy didn’t still have his blood staining his shirt.

Blade deadpans. “The only time a situation is under control is when your powers are at work.”

Warden shrugs. “Okay, fine it was a near death experience.” Angel grips the chair tighter. “Emphasis on the near!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me. You are my near death experience. Every single day.” Angel proclaims and he turns to Tommy. “Mate, I cannot thank you enough. Genuinely. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, consider it done.”

Tommy sucks in a breath. “Great. I have a request for you fuckers then.”

Blade furrows his eyebrows. “I thought you said you don’t do favors?”

“I don’t.” Tommy stiffens. “I have a deal to offer.”

The room falls silent and Tommy places both his hands on the table, palm up. “I’ve got a plan and it’s not a good one, but I think it’ll work so here it is.”

He focuses on his palms, drawing on the buzzing heat of his power and watches as his veins begin to light up, spreading to the tips of his fingers and the outline of his hands.

“I’m a healer.” Tommy begins. “I’ll heal any injury you want at any time you need, wherever you need it. I can drive too, so if you’re still looking for a getaway driver, I’m pretty fucking good.”

He could tell their interest was piqued, especially with the way they were holding their brief to hear the catch.

“And in exchange?” The Angel of Death folds his arms and Tommy pulls his hands back. .

“In exchange, all you have to do is protect me from Dream.”

Chapter Text

“—we barely know him!”

“...okay but it’s convenient…” Angel shrugs and Blink nods before shrugging sheepishly at the concerned look on Warden’s face.

Blade snorts. “Are you joking? This is a terrible idea—”

Tommy’s face twists in utter confusion. Were they taking the piss or did they genuinely think Tommy couldn’t hear them? It.. it was a pretty small apartment.

“I trust him.” Blink proclaims boldly and although Tommy knows damn well he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings, he holds his tongue.

“That’s because you’re an idiot with no combat experience.” Blade bites back and Angel scowls, pushing Blade’s shoulder. He speaks in a hushed voice. 

“Fuck off! It’s a brilliant idea, what could go wrong?” Angel argues.

“Uh, betrayal? Bro you’re not actually considering—”

“Sh, sh, sh.” Angel waves the man away.

“He doesn’t have a license!” Blade argues and Angel gapes in shock.

“We’re fucking villains!” Angel hisses. “That’s the least illegal thing he’d be doing. He’s a good driver.”

“I agree with Angel.” Warden responds and Blink nods eagerly.

“No, stop. You’re only on his side because you know it’ll annoy me.” Blade jabs a finger at Blink. “That immediately invalidates your opinion.”

“I can fucking hear you guys.” Tommy folds his arms and all three of the men spin around to look at him. “You’re standing like six feet away from me, it’s not hard to eavesdrop.”

Tommy leans back in his chair and the men look at each other sheepishly. They’d since moved away from the table, opting to huddle together and have a not-so-quiet conversation about how much they can trust Tommy. Which, granted, if they knew the truth should be not at all.

“Look, you pricks owe me!” Tommy proclaims, leaning forward in his chair. “I keep saving your stupid asses, why not make it official?”

The Angel of Death sighs and crosses the room again to sit down. “So just to clarify— you want to join us? ”

“Correct.”

Warden cuts in, “And in exchange, we protect you from the heroes…” Tommy nods. “...because Dream is targeting healers. You feel threatened by that?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Tommy agrees. “Fellas, buddies, pals. Listen to me. Do I look untrustworthy? Don’t answer that. But hey! My middle name is trusty. I’m To— I mean uh, Theseus Trusty Innes.”

Blade and Warden glance at each other apprehensively from where they stand behind Angel. Blink looks entirely oblivious to any slip ups.

“Right.” Blade drawls, crossing his arms. “And we should believe you immediately and have full faith.”

“Absolutely. I’m like a phone; so long as you keep me working I can do whatever the fuck you need me to do.”

“That’s a shitty metaphor.” Angel mutters and Blink mumbles back an agreement. Tommy flips them both off. Seriously, what assholes. Tommy was a word genius. Angel and Blink were just jealous.

“You’re not like a phone.” Warden says and that makes Tommy hesitate because isn’t that what Warden would want to hear? Tommy frowns, trying to come up with a different analogy. “A phone makes you sound like our property. If you’re working with us, then we’re equals. A phone is… weird and wrong.”

Tommy blinks, shifting in the wooden chair uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. That’s what I meant. Obviously.”

Another pause.

“And that’s really all you want?” Angel places a hand on the table. “You saved two out of three of our lives and as your favor, you want.. to work for us?”

“Fucksakes, yes!”

Angel blinks in surprise and then after a moment, he smiles. Angel looks back towards the team. Warden nods in agreement, Blade lets out a breath of irritation and shrugs, and Blink nods furiously. 

Angel grins, “Then I think we can come to an arrangement. We need a healer and driver. You need protection.”

“I don’t buy it.” Blade huffs, leaning against Tommy’s counter. “Good guy suddenly turns to villains? Bro, that’s the most obvious betrayal I’ve ever seen.”

Tommy doesn’t blame him, he can hardly believe it himself. It’s difficult to imagine himself working as a villain. Just the thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth. But if it’s that or Dream, he knows which one he’s going to pick.

And the villains were probably the only people in the entire damn world who could protect him now. Besides, they were the reason Dream found him in the first place.

Warden frowns, caught up in a world of his own. “I used my power on him before, he’s being honest….” and then he belatedly adds, “I trust him,” with a look that definitely doesn’t match the words coming out of his mouth.

God, how would this conversation be going if they knew he used to work as a hero? Tommy smiles, as though to prove his innocence, and Blade eyes him suspiciously.

It makes Tommy want to curl up and hide away from sight but he forces himself to sit there unmoving.

Blade hums before shrugging. “It’s not my call but I think we at least put him to the test.”

If Tommy wasn’t being watched and heavily scrutinized, he’d let out a breath of relief.

Angel hesitates, drawing his index finger in a circle against his side as he thinks. He stands with a sudden nod to himself and pulls out a small phone. “Blade is right. We’ll send you the details. You have one chance so don’t screw it up.”

“And please arrive on time.” Blade complains with a sideways glance to Blink who tenses awkwardly.

“It’s not a big deal if you’re not on time though.” Blink rushes out. Angel starts ushering them to attention, leading the way towards Tommy’s door.

“It inconveniences the entire team.” 

“Not really.”

Blade scowls. “It does.”

“Boys.” The Angel of Death scolds and Tommy can’t help but think it sounds like a father scolding his kids. 

Blink shakes his head softly and mouths the word, “No.” which causes Blade to set his mouth in a grimace.

Tommy can’t stop the beginnings of a smile as they bantered.

“Great, we’ll see you in a week, I guess.” Warden gives Tommy the thumbs up and his confusion worsens.

“Wait, what the hell is in a week?” Tommy inquires and they all exchange a glance. 

He was starting to feel pretty fucking left out. It was like they were all speaking about him, not to him.

Honestly, the whole thing they had going on seemed very comfortable. They had a bond that didn’t include Tommy. Or at least, not yet.

It was something Tommy always admired; no matter what, they always worked together in battle. You’d never catch them letting the other person slip.

“We’ll tell you when we get there. But the most important thing, Theseus, is that you don’t bring your own car. We’ll send one over for you.” Warden says, staring intensely at Tommy.

Blade groans, turning on his heel.

“This is a bad idea and I’m bored. I’ll meet you guys at Mcdonalds, I’m getting my Big Mac.” Blade pushes himself up and then walks out Tommy’s apartment door. Blink follows pretty fast, excited at the news of fast food and then the rest of the villains follow suit, briefly saying goodbye.

And then they’re gone, leaving Tommy in an apartment that suddenly feels cold with their absence, too big for one person, and above all else… 

…empty.

Tommy doesn’t leave the house for pretty much the whole time. He sleeps like shit, but that’s to be expected. 

His healing drawback wasn’t terrible, but it certainly wasn’t fun. When he healed people, he’d get nightmares the next time he went to sleep.

Tommy’s got no idea why it happens, just that whenever he heals someone, there’s a nightmare waiting for him right around the corner.

When he’d asked the syndicate to protect him from Dream, he was meaning protection from that moment onwards. Whether that be when he’s a getaway driver or otherwise. Once they left and said they’d contact him a week later, Tommy was regretting not clarifying his statement.

But it doesn’t matter, he’d sort it out tonight. Because finally, they text him what he needs to know.

The car they send is a lot bigger than the one he first met them in. It’s a black van with tinted windows and Tommy only knows it’s for him because he gets a slightly ominous text message with the details.

He walks over and there’s a man standing nearby in a navy suit with red and blue sunglasses.

Wordlessly, the man drops the keys into Tommy’s hand and then walks off down the street, flagging down a taxi and leaving Tommy behind.

He can’t help but feel nervous about the whole thing. He was seventeen as of a few weeks ago. That meant he’d only been away from the hero business for six months. Six months of hiding that were completely wasted once Dream saw him in that bank and realized he was still in the city.

It didn’t sound like a lot, but it was enough to mean he was a bit out of practice. It also meant the nervous adrenaline that came along with doing jobs felt stronger than usual.

Tommy pops the door open on the driver's side of the vehicle and recoils when he sees a man sitting in the passenger's seat, pink hair pulled back and clipped into a low bun. There were two masks on his lap, one that resembled a hog and another that—

“Holy shit.” Tommy says breathlessly.

Blade nods once at him in acknowledgement. He had two distinctly pointed teeth that put Tommy on edge.  “I know.”

“Your mask.”

“I know.” Blade watches him thoughtfully causing Tommy’s skin to crawl. He can definitely see how Blade is rumored to have red eyes. His eyes were distinctly brown, but in the light there was an unmistakable reddish hue. 

There was an old scar running along his nose and across his cheek, but aside from that his face seemed to be uninjured in every other way.

Blade sighs and waves vaguely to his pink hair. “We figured that I’m the most easily identifiable without the mask and you should know how at least one of us looks for… future convenience.” 

Tommy hesitates because holy shit balls, he was looking directly at the mother fucking Blade. There’s no way they trust him that much already, right? If anything, Tommy should see this as more of a threat. It felt more like a decision that Tommy couldn’t go back. After seeing one of their faces, Tommy was either going to join them or die.

He opens his mouth to say something but Blade just scowls. “I wanted to test you first, trust me. But we decided to put some faith in you. Villains tend to take deals very seriously.” 

Tommy can recognise a threat when he hears one, but he tries not to let the anxiety show on his face. 

He squints. “Next time keep the mask on.” 

It’s the only mildly witty thing he can think to say and it seems to do the trick in breaking the ice. 

Blade barks in laughter and rolls his eyes. “I would have liked to.”

“You look stupid.”

“I guess I’ll take that? Better than being stupid, I suppose.”

He gets into the van, taking a steadying breath as he looks through his new driving space. It probably looked ridiculous, but he was getting accustomed to the way everything was positioned. 

It was the first thing he did when he got in a car; he always got comfortable with the distance and location of everything important.

It was important to get a good grasp on what you were working with, even though most driving spaces are pretty similar. It was all about the little things.

“Detail is everything.”

Tommy’s brain chimes with a reminder, snapping him out of his focus.

“Wait, on the topic of deals; I need to clarify that I need protection from Dream outside of doing jobs for you guys. You bastards left so fast I couldn’t tell you.”

“We were watching you.” Blade scoffs. “You didn’t leave your house the whole time. I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but the days I was assigned to watch over you were the most boring ones of my life.”

Tommy stares.

“Oh.”

Yikes. Well, uh, that makes sense. God, did they really watch him stay in his apartment for a week? 

Tommy shakes his head, doing his best to guide the conversation back to the topic of masks.

“So does this mean I get to learn your real name?” Tommy says half joking but Blade glares at him like the request is serious.

“Nope. That’s unnecessary.”

“I don’t know, big man. If you’re choking to death and one of your buddies tells me to save you—”

“The answer is no.”

“I’ve already seen your face!”

“And if you tell anyone about it, I guarantee you’ll never see another one again.”

“Bitch. You’re so fucking lame.” Tommy huffs. “Your face is dumb and I bet your name is shit anyway. I already know Warden’s name is Sam and Blink’s name is.. Is fucking rainbow or some shit.”

Blade goes tense immediately, turning to look in the back as there’s a resounding thud.

“I told you my name?”

“What the hell!” Tommy screams, spinning around to see none other than Warden in the back of the van.

Warden jerks back as if he’s the scared one, and touches a hand to his chest. “Sorry.”

He was wearing his mask, unlike the Blade, oddly enough. Blade seemed like the least likely to want to reveal his identity so he must have meant it about being the most identifiable. (With the bright anime-protagonist pink hair, it made sense, but still.) They were being smart about the way they introduced themselves in a way that Tommy didn’t fully understand. It unnerved him.

“Don’t scare me like that, dickhead!” Tommy spits.

“We’re very sorry,” Angel of death says, shoving Warden to the side who looks at him in annoyed amusement. Tommy screams again and Warden huffs.

“Stop fucking scaring me!”

“Scaring you?!” A third voice, and Tommy’s heart is fucking racing at this point, calls from the back and Rocket pops up.

“Rocket, hush. No tormenting the driver.” Angel chides gently.

“Man.” Rocket sighs dramatically, throwing an arm over the passenger's seat where Blade was sitting. Blade grabs Rocket’s sleeve, tossing his arm to the side. “Why am I even here then?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Theseus.” Angel murmurs. “I’ll try not to next time.”

Rocket’s mouth pulls up in a small smile. “I won’t, I think it’s funny.”

“Fuck you.”

“He swears a lot, doesn’t he?” Blade comments, appealing to Warden.

“I am literally right here.” 

“I think it’s a condition.” Warden shrugs. “It comes with being the kid who was discovered in a dumpster.”

“Shut up.”

“I call them gremlin children.” Rocket declares and his face splits into an awful smile.

“Die.”

“I think it means he likes you.” Blade deadpans.

Tommy sees a flash of red from behind them and he pushes Rocket’s head to the side without thinking to get a better look. “What the hell is…” 

Tommy trails off, mouth going dry when he sees crates upon crates of dynamite sticks and a canister of gasoline. It made him feel sick, what the fuck did Tommy sign himself up for?

“As I was going to say,” Angel reasserts himself into the conversation and it takes all of Tommy’s strength to move his line of sight from the TNT to Angel. “We’re going to a warehouse owned by the bank. Earlier, we were trying to break into the bank and steal records of healers in the last five years. It’s not a high priority so there’s no digitized versions of those files—”

“Or at least it wasn’t a high priority until Dream started killing healers to make a statement.” Blade adds with a grimace and Angel’s mood seems to darken. From what Tommy was piecing together, this was a revenge mission. Their healer got killed so they need to do something big to balance the board.

Rocket continues. “Dream has access to the older files, anything six years plus. It cost us our healer and it’s probably the same reason you’re in hiding right now. We’re going to hit back twice as fucking hard” He hits a fist against his open palm, then jabs a finger at Tommy “and wipe out the whole warehouse. Any and all information in there is going up in fucking flames. It was going to be a separate job to the files, but they’ve moved them to the same place because they think we don’t know about the warehouse.”

Blade hums. “They've accidentally made our job easier, so everything should go according to plan. It’s low risk, high reward.”

Tommy can barely get himself to move, still fixated on the dynamite. There was so… much. He could count six wooden crates full and filled to the brim.

Loud noises have always set Tommy off, gunshots in particular. The only counter balance he could find for those loud noises that always sent him spiraling was music. He doubts the sound of the explosion is going to do him any favors. 

Oh god, what if he doesn’t have music?

Trying to make himself seem as calm as possible, Tommy glances over towards the radio, scanning it for any imperfections. If he strains his ears he can hear the low buzz of an announcer speaking. He nearly sighs in relief at the sound; that meant the radio would work and play music for him later on.

“We’re ready when you are. Blade already scoped the place out so we know what we’re doing.” Angel beams, relaxing into the passenger seat.

 Holy shit, these guys were prepared. 

Tommy can’t help but feel a sharp twang of anxiety in his heart. “So you’re going to blow the building up?”

“Yep, it was my idea.” Rocket grins, looking proud of himself behind the mask.

Tommy pauses, starting the car but not driving. “Are there going to be people inside?”

“A few security but nobody important.” Warden shrugs.

The words ring in Tommy’s mind. 

Nobody important. What a sick fucking joke.

“Okay, nope.” Tommy shakes his head. “That’s not happening. No fucking way am I letting that slide. We need some rules.”

“Rules?” The Angel of Death frowns and Tommy stares daggers at him because it should have been obvious he wasn’t okay with senseless murder.

“Yes, I’m making some rules because I am not going to be fucking murdering people just so I can stay safe from Dream.”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to be making demands?” The Blade questions with an amused look on his face that Tommy has the sudden urge to smack. Warden sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“If we’re gonna work together, you all need to know what I’m okay with and what I’m not okay with. If I’m gonna be driving you around, I’m making some ground rules. This is a deal. It goes two ways.”

“That’s… fair.” Angel shrugs. “Within reason, though.”

“Rule one, you don’t fucking kill anyone unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want to see that shit.” 

That gets him a couple confused glares and head tilts. Okay fine, maybe that wasn’t the strongest rule to start on— know your audience or whatever, but it didn’t feel like he was asking for a lot.

“Theseus, we’re villains.” Blade raises an eyebrow. “Murdering is sorta my thing.”

“It’s kind of all our thing.” Rocket adds unhelpfully.

“Fine, then don’t kill anyone who isn’t a threat.” Tommy clarifies. Blade narrows his eyes at him but a firm glare from Tommy shuts his mouth. “Rule two, if you bleed in my car, you’re cleaning my car. Bloodstains are a pain in the ass to remove so if you’re bleeding, keep it to yourself until we get to the base.”

“We probably won’t be using the same car twice, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” The Angel of Death answers and Tommy sighs in relief.

Thank god, he really didn’t want to try cleaning this damn van.

“Rule three, if I tell you we have to stop a mission, you abort. We have to communicate with each other, okay? I won’t know what’s happening on the inside and you won’t know what’s happening on the out. If we talk to each other, we’ll all be fine.”

“You’re not coming in to help us?” Warden asks.

“Nope. Rule four, I stay in the car unless absolutely necessary. I will only join the battle if someone is bleeding out or we need to leave and Dream isn’t in the area. If you lose an arm but you’re able to walk back to the car, you fucking walk back to the car.”

Tommy shifts his entire body over so he can properly look at all four of them. “And rule five. This is the most important rule, so everyone listen up.” They all lean in. “Wear your fucking seatbelt.”

Maybe he’s been using the phrase “impending doom” incorrectly because nothing could even compare to the feeling that starts to stir in his chest when he pulls up into an empty parking lot and huge warehouse.

It was dark so he couldn’t really make out any defining features of the building; not that it looked like there were many. 

It was huge, that’s for sure. 

There weren’t a lot of windows and Tommy could only see two exits from where he parked. The fire escape which looked like one gust of wind could send it crashing to the ground, and a small painted yellow door with a window. 

There were two huge garage doors on one of the walls which looked to be where trucks might pull in to be loaded. That was just a guess though, he couldn’t be sure.

“It’s very quiet.” Warden points out, poking his head between the two chairs. “Where the hell is the security?”

“They’ll be inside.” Blade responds, gently securing the hog mask over his own face. He turns to Tommy and hands him one. The mask Tommy is handed isn’t a real one; it’s the sort of thing you’d see at a kids birthday party. Nothing more than a coloured piece of cardboard paper attached to some string.

“What the fuck is this?” Tommy phrases it more like a statement than anything else as he turns the mask over in his hand.

“It’s a mask, mate.” Angel beams and Warden gets a stupid little gleam to his eyes.

“Blink and I discussed what kind of mask would be appropriate. We decided on a raccoon.”

“For fuck sakes.” Tommy scowls down at the mask, turning it over in his hand. “Did you get this from Party City?”

“We were on a strict time schedule,mate.” Angel says. “We’ll get you a real mask soon enough.”

Warden nods. “But I clarified it needed to be a raccoon. Do you— do you get the joke? Because of the dumpster? The garbage can where we saw eachother and—”

“Yes I understand the joke, you dickhead. If we’re keeping a theme maybe I should glue a penis to your head—”

“Nope.” Blade groans at the word penis and gets out of the car.  

Tommy starts securing the mask over top of his face. “Jesus, just— just all of you get out.”

“We’ll be back soon.” Rocket gives him a thumbs up, picking up a crate, which was as much as he could carry, of dynamite. 

Rocket turns around and walks directly into the Angel of Death who raises an unamused eyebrow at him and takes the crate, shaking his head gently. Rocket crosses his arm in annoyance and it’s a good thing that Angel took the crate off of him because when he huffs in frustration, his hands glow a soft orange.

Angel walks over to the van and picks up another crate before lugging it over to the warehouse, happily chatting to Rocket all the way. Tommy assumes that he must be coaching him through the mission.

It didn’t seem like Rocket was anywhere near as experienced as the others. A trainee at best.

Not that it looked like Angel minded.

You know, for a villain, the man was oddly friendly. It was quite strange to see that the leader of the group seemed to be the least unhinged.

Soon enough, Tommy is watching  them carry crates of dynamite and some gasoline into a huge warehouse, using the dark as their cover. How the hell were they planning on using the two of them in combination? Maybe making a gasoline trail between crates?

Honestly, he never realised how stupid this sort of thing looked from an outside perspective. Watching Blade hold the warehouse door open for Angel and Warden, only for Warden to immediately hit his head on the door frame, was definitely an experience unique to Tommy. Especially when you factored in Warden crouching and giving what looked like some very serious instructions to Rocket before Rocket took off with a bottle of gasoline and started splashing it everywhere.

How the fuck did these idiots become world ranking villains?

You know what? It doesn’t matter— soon enough Tommy watches them all disappear one by one through the door and he can relax into his seat.

His knee starts bouncing and he keeps a close eye on the warehouse. He’s not really sure what to expect, but these were the three greatest villains he was working with. They’d worked out all the logistics so far and everything had been going pretty well.

Tommy’s pretty sure they’ve got everything under control. He was so calm right now, his fingers were calmly tapping against the steering wheel.

“Nothing to worry about.” Tommy murmurs. He can’t seem to look away, but that’s just because of how totally relaxed he is. Definitely. You know, maybe he should drive a bit closer so they could leave faster.

Yeah, that’s a good idea. Tommy switches the car into drive, the car lights cutting through the dark in bright beams. He turns them off almost immediately, stomach churning as he hopes nobody sees the light and starts to slowly move the car close to the exit of the warehouse.

As Tommy gets about halfway there, there’s a loud groaning noise. Like the sound of metal scraping harshly against each other and Tommy’s heart rate skyrockets.

He really wishes that his bedroom walls weren’t so paper thin. He could hear the sound of someone walking through his kitchen almost immediately. What were his parents doing up at this hour?

Tommy’s heart soared at the thought of a surprise party— he was turning seven tomorrow! That had to be what it was.

His knee stops bouncing and he presses hard against the brakes, grateful he wasn’t going fast. What the fuck was that noise? 

The sound was so loud, his ears were ringing. His hand shoots out for the radio and it buzzes on in an instant.

The noise was the worst part of this field of work. He couldn't cope with loud sounds, he needed music to drown it out. The radio blasts; the loud sound of static makes him recoil and he rushes to try and find a frequency that’s playing music.   

Oh, fuck.

Tommy’s eyes dart back over to the warehouse and he quickly realizes the noise was coming from the warehouse garage doors. They were winding back slowly, creaking from their age as they opened.

With a hand still outstretched to the radio settings and his eyes glued to the warehouse, he can slowly see a figure come into view.

At first he thinks it’s Rocket and he briefly debates shouting at him for how idiotic it was to open those garage doors and make noise. But then another figure comes into sight, deeper into the warehouse and emerging through one of the many rows of stock shelves on the left. And then another, this person from the right where there was a large open space.

 And another. 

Tommy wonders how many uninvited guests are there in total.

He slowly pulls both of his hands back to the steering wheel. Nobody had noticed him, they weren't facing his car and with the night offering him cover it wasn't very easy to see. Looking into the warehouse on the other hand, the ceiling lights were beaming.

Standing above all the security, on top of the metal rafters, were the four idiots he’d come with.

Warden, Blade, Rocket and the Angel of Death. Carrying nearly empty crates of dynamite and some gasoline. Staring sheepishly down at the security they were trying to avoid.

Tommy’s speechless. He can’t do anything but stare in horror at the four villains. He feels like throwing up when the only thing that the Angel of Death does is give a small wave to the people below.

It’s like everyone is holding their breath for a moment. And then one of the figures from the ground raises a gun and the scene descends into chaos.

Somehow, god knows how, the four of them act at the same time.

The Angel of Death drops the crates and takes flight, boosting himself upwards so he can take on some of the security from an unexpected angle. Blade jumps down from the metal rafters, holding his mask against his face to help secure it from the ground shock and manages to stick the landing. Rocket bolts off in a different direction out of sight and Warden starts shouting commands.

Not that Tommy can hear them, but he sees one of the security guards turn to his friend with a raised gun and— oh shit were they about to shoot each other?

The color drains from his face. Tommy could not handle gun shots. He wouldn’t be able to focus and do his job and holy shit— if he can't do his job then what?

He whips his head back towards the radio in a panic. Tommy uses both his hands as he fumbles with the volume and radio frequency.

The static grows louder in his ears and the radio skips around, pieces of advertisement and hosts speaking.

Where the fuck is all the music? If he could just find something to— 

BANG.

The door to his room creaks open and his mother holds a finger up to her mouth before Tommy even gets the chance to speak. She’s by his side in an instant, pulling him out of bed with a gentle but quick hand.

“Tom, honey. We’re going to play a game alright?”

“Mum? What are you doing?” He rubs his eyes tiredly and she pulls him over to his closet, sliding the door open slowly to avoid making noise.

His mother crouches down. “Dad and I decided that before bedtime, we’re gonna play a game, okay?”

“I like games!” Tommy says in a hushed voice. 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” She pushes some of the clothing in Tommy’s closet to the side. “This game is a bit different. It’s like hide and seek. All you have to do is stay put no matter what, unless it’s me, dad, or a hero.”

“...a hero?”

The radio skips around and Tommy’s heart is beating so hard he could swear his vision starts spotting. 

“Half priced now, for only—” The radio crackles and Tommy skips through it again. “—buy one get one free!”

“Fuck sakes…” Tommy whispers, blinking rapidly. A stray bullet clinks harmlessly against the concrete by his car and he jerks to attention. 

His eyes dart over to the warehouse and he sees as Blade wipes out a security member, punching him hard across the face. There’s more security than there was before, Tommy doesn’t know where they’d come from. There’s about four people on the ground and another six attacking the villains.

Warden holds up a finger gun and fires it at one of the security members' feet. The security in question, as though on cue, shoots himself in the exact spot Warden aimed.

BANG.

This didn’t feel like much of a game. The closet door slides shut and Tommy pulls his knees to his chest, darkness surrounding him on all sides. 

There were raised voices now and a clattering noise, like someone had taken a fall.  But Tommy stays put.

Even when there’s a bang, so loud that it makes Tommy jump and cover his hands with his ears, Tommy stays put.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what that noise was. 

Tommy really wishes he didn’t know what that noise was when tears start stinging his eyes. He’d seen enough TV to recognise a gunshot.

Just stay put. It’s all a game.

Tommy blinks back, gathering himself again. He’s moved in the short span of time since Warden shot someone.

 His head is pulled down away from the car window and he shakes himself free. 

Taking a heavy breath, Tommy smacks a hand against the radio. “Fucking work!”

BANG.

Tommy doesn’t think he can make himself look any smaller. There’s a loud thudding noise in the silence that follows.

Then footsteps that start to slowly recede from the house.

He doesn’t know how long he’s in there for.

But eventually Tommy can hear the sound as more people enter his house, the static-y noise of a receiver buzzing.

“—ound dead. There’s a boy missing, he’s called Tommy.”

The glass that covers the radio screen cracks upon impact but something rhythmic starts buzzing from the static. 

Tommy’s eyes dash over to the warehouse for a moment to get a quick view of the action. There weren’t any security guards left standing. Tommy couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead; but they sure as shit weren’t moving.

Rocket had gotten a knife bloodied at some point during the scuffle and was wiping it on the tail end of Blade’s cape. Blade, upon noticing, whirls around in dismay and starts shouting.

Rocket begins laughing into his arm, trying to muffle himself. Tommy could see Rocket turn to Angel in complaint and Angel shake his head at Rocket.

They were starting to walk over now. Shit, Tommy needed to calm himself down.

If Tommy can just fine tune the music…

There was the faint sound of music playing, not quite loud enough but enough to help Tommy calm down.

The closet door starts to creak open and he sees two unfamiliar green eyes peek through at him.

“No!” Tommy gasps, and he forces the door shut again.

The radio finally comes to life, a song starting to play clearly now and Tommy turns it up. 

He felt sick from all the adrenaline coursing through him. It would take a while to get used to the feeling again. And he’d definitely need to make sure the radio was working in the next car or he at least had headphones.

Either way, it had been ages since he’d had that same rush, the feeling was crashing into him all at once.

There was nothing that could beat it. That racing feeling of a mission gone well. The slow coming down from the adrenaline as everyone regroups to celebrate. The knowledge that you did your part.

It was the same in all the ways he’d missed except he wasn’t a hero anymore. That title was lost now. He’d forgotten that title the moment he walked out on Dream and gained a new one the moment he’d made that deal with the villains.

He finds it sort of ironic that the people he once fought against are now the ones protecting him but there wasn't any other option. His only other choice is to disappear entirely and in a strange sort of way, Tommy's grown attached to the city. He'd only leave if it was his last option.

The back door of the van opens and Tommy whips his head around. 

“Alright, let’s blow this warehouse to hell.” Angel grins.

Rocket lets his hands glow a fierce red. "Fuck yes. Although we might want to drive a little further away."

Tommy swallows hard and nods his head. He was committing to this. He had to.

Chapter Text

On one hand, yes Tommy was committing to this. On the other, he’d be an idiot for not reinforcing those rules he just set.

“It’s in the rule list!” Tommy shouts, a hand cupped to his face. “No killing unless they’re a threat.”

Blade grimaces, dumping two more security guards in a pile by their van before walking back to help Warden. Rocket had picked up the leg of some unconscious guard and was leaning his elbow against the foot, using him as a kind of arm rest.

“You know, if you hadn’t told them to move those guards, those people would have been dead.” Angel crosses his arms from next to Tommy. 

“I’m aware.” Tommy mutters. 

Tommy doesn’t even try to hide the shit eating smile across his face at their struggling to move people. He knows how hard it is to move an unconscious person, he did it with Warden. 

He regrets absolutely fucking nothing in making them move the security guards now.

It was starting to get a bit late. Tommy could feel his eyelids getting heavy and was relying more and more on the van to keep him supported. Coming down from an adrenaline was never as fun as the actual high itself.

Angel frowns, picking up on Tommy's sluggishness. “You look pale.”

“No I don’t.” Tommy quips. “I’m incredibly poggers, in fact.”

“You’re what?” The Angel of Death laughs. “Mate, I’m being serious. You look really faint.”

“I just— I’m tired is all. I skipped dinner because I couldn’t be bothered and I’m— I’m probably gonna sleep like fucking shit tonight because of my healing drawback.”

Angel tilts his head towards Tommy. “So you do have a drawback.”

“Of course I have a drawback, dumbass. Healing always has drawbacks.”

“So yours is that, what, you lose sleep?” The Angel of Death questions and Tommy shrugs because it wasn’t that far off.

“I get nightmares. I don’t know why healing causes nightmares of all things, but that’s what I’m stuck with.”

Angel frowns. “Our last healer got headaches.”

There’s a break in the conversation and Tommy looks over at the Angel of Death. Angel was busy doing his own thing, gently pulling his fingers through his wings, straightening his feathers and grimacing as they graze over a certain spot.

“You’re injured.” Tommy says, as though it isn’t obvious.

Angel’s head whips back over. “Oh— uh, yeah. It’s pretty much nothing.”

“I’m your healer, that’s like the one thing I’m here for.” Tommy scoffs and shifts towards the Angel of Death, hand reaching out to his wing. 

“I thought it would be better if we slowly introd—” 

Tommy’s fingers just barely graze the man's feathers when Angel jerks back. 

It happens so quickly, Tommy barely blinks. One moment he’s reaching to heal the Angel of Death’s wing and the next, his hand is trapped in a death grip.

Tommy’s hand is yanked into an iron vice grip. He takes a shuddering breath because all of a sudden his heart starts pounding out of his fucking chest.

There’s a brief moment of realization that passes between the two of them before Angel lets go.

“Shit, I’m sorry...” The Angel of Death says breathlessly. His tone shifts entirely, from light hearted to genuinely apologetic and he shakes his head. “That was… sorry mate. I just— you have to warn me if you’re going to touch my wings. I wasn’t ready.”

“I— No, that’s my fault…” Tommy trails off, rubbing his wrist. “I should have asked or warned you at least. Fucking hell, you’ve got a good grip.”

He can still feel the pressure points where Angel was grabbing him moments before. He has to blink and take a few deep breaths to steady himself.

“No, you couldn’t have known. I just…” Angel shakes his head once resolutely before taking a deep breath. “I have a few issues with people unexpectedly touching my wings. But that’s not your fault!”

Tommy nods awkwardly, rubbing his wrist. “Right.”

“Uh, as I was going to say, I thought it would be better to slowly introduce you to the role of our healer. We don’t want to overwhelm you with all our chaos and shit.” 

Angel smiles at the end of his sentence and Tommy nods slowly. “...Can I? Or I guess— d’you want me to?” He holds a hand out flat and Angel ducks his head, extending his wing.

Tommy reaches up, being more cautious than before when he touches the feathers. Carefully, he guides a hand over the Angel of Death’s wing, healing the injury whilst holding it in place as gently as possible.

Angel clears his throat. “Since we’ve got a moment, I’m gonna ask you something that’s been on my mind.”

Tommy watches his through the corner of his eye, doing his best to act disinterested. “Yeah, big man?”

Angel chuckles breathlessly at the nickname. “You’re a very controversial topic between all of us so far. Warden used his power on you, so he believes you, although I wouldn’t say he trusts you yet. Rocket and Blink are… well they’re new to this whole scene and are mostly eager to have another person close to their age on the team.”

“I gathered that much. They don’t exactly give me ‘experienced villain’ vibes.”

“No, they’re still kids, no matter how much they battle it. Blade spends a lot of time with them because he was the one who brought them in. They’re like my grandkids, you know? Still apart of the family, of course, but I’m scared to death for them every time they’re on the field and I don’t think their judgement is the best yet.”

“Glad that the two people who actually want me on the team are the two you think are under qualified.” Tommy jokes with a scoff and Angel shrugs. 

“My point is that Blade doesn’t trust or believe you at all; he thinks it’s too convenient. We lose a healer and then a few months later, you appear. You heal, you’re competent behind a wheel despite not having a license, and you don’t act like you’re shitting your pants everytime we speak to you. It’s all the telltale signs of someone who isn’t being honest about their civilian status.”

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek. “And what do you think?”

The Angel of Death hums and then looks back towards the group. He watches them fondly for a moment before replying. “How old did you say you were?”

Tommy scoffs. “I turned seventeen a few weeks ago. Why does that matter?”

“Any seventeen year old healer would have left town and made a run for it the moment Dream started killing healers. And any normal seventeen year old would have started screaming the moment a villain got involved.” 

“You’re probably right, Big man.” Tommy pauses.

“But?” Angel encourages, head tilted in curiosity. Tommy sucks on his teeth and stares off towards the warehouse.

“But I don’t think I could leave the city. If my choices come down to getting murdered by Dream or working with villains, well, I’ve made my decision clear.”

“You’d rather be a villain than leave the city?” Angel crosses his arms, leaning against the van and Tommy stays silent. “C’mon, did you ever want to be a hero growing up?”

Tommy laughs. “You could say that. Mate, I used to think that being a hero would be the fucking shit. I guess the more I learnt about the heroes, the less I looked up to them. But yeah, I'd rather be a villain than leave. If I can't be a villain, then I guess I'll piss off. But otherwise, this is my plan.”

Angel nods his head. “Well then, I know what I think of you. I think my answer to your question is that you’re just a kid who’s running towards whoever can protect him best.”

Tommy snorts. “I am not a kid.”

“Eh.” The Angel of Death playfully shrugs. “I beg to differ.”

“Shut it.”

Rocket groans loudly, dragging a security guard by the foot and dumping him by the pile. “Fuckin— you pricks could help, you know?”

Blade smiles. “Angel’s too old, his back would have given out the moment he bent down.”

“You little shit.” Angel shakes his head. “We’re not making a joke about me being an old man.”

Tommy laughs. “Oh, I think we absolutely are. How old are you? Fifty?”

Angel gapes, “FIFTY?”

“He is.” Blade nods solemnly and it makes Tommy laugh even harder as Angel desperately tries to clarify that he isn’t in fact fifty.

“The birthday party was lame.” Rocket affirms.

“Yes, we all played bingo.” Warden adds and Tommy wheezes at the thought of all these terrifying villains gathered around competing in Bingo.

“You chaotic bastards. Are we ready to go?”

“Remind me why blowing up this whole fucking place is necessary?” Tommy crosses his arms in disapproval as Rocket excitedly starts to burn up his hands. “I mean, this is a bit overkill, right fellas?”

“I just like watching shit blow up.” Rocket grins and that sentence would be alarming if it didn’t seem fitting for his personality. He absolutely seems like the kind of dickhead to blow stuff up for the sake of it.

“Nah, this is justified.” Angel shakes his head. “They’ve had it coming. They killed our healer and they’re gonna kill more if we let ‘em keep this information.”

Tommy squints. “Won’t that mean you guys are technically saving lives?” Blade’s eyes widen when he considers the sentiment.

“First of all, how dare you. Second of all, we prefer being a thorn in the government's side over all else.” Blade responds and Rocket throws up his fiery hands in dismay.

“I’m gonna start fucking blasting if I don’t get to set fire to something soon!” Rocket groans loudly.

Tommy shouts out in dismay, stepping backwards as sparks fly off his hands. “Be careful where you fucking wave that, bitch! I’m just saying, aren’t you guys supposed to be the villains?”

Blade scoffs, “Of course we are.” and then Rocket promptly shoots a small explosion towards a trail of gasoline they left, leading to the warehouse.

In an instant, the ground sets alight, fire shooting up from the trail and racing towards the building.

The sound of the explosion isn’t so bad if Tommy knows it’s coming. His main problem was with gunshots.

But still, the sound it makes is ginormous. 

They’ll have to leave shortly because there’s no way a noise like that goes unnoticed. 

Tommy can’t stop himself from flinching back.

Angel’s hand moves towards him instinctively but he doesn’t touch Tommy, he just holds his hand there as though Tommy might fall over.

Angel frowns. “Are you alright?”

Tommy forces himself to stand upright. “Yeah, I just— I didn’t realize it would be that loud.”

The entire building combusts, lighting up in a blaze and flaring outward as flames consume the building, licking at the walls. The focus of the explosion is yellow-white glowing hot and the outer sections a red-orange with black smoke billowing out of it. 

The smoke seems to blend into the night sky although the smell makes Tommy’s eyes water and nostrils sting. 

The explosion is beautiful... But in a morally wrong kind of way. 

A way that reminds Tommy of the consequences of what he’s doing. It makes his insides twist with guilt, but still he can’t seem to look away. The lights were mesmerizing

“We should go.” Blade mutters, breaking his trance from the explosion and heading towards the van.

Slowly, they all decide to head off. They all pile into the van, having Tommy drive them to Niki’s bakery as a solid drop off point.

It’s a comfortable silence as Tommy starts driving off. 

He was most comfortable driving at night. It was peaceful. The roads were mostly empty, the air was cool, and Tommy could have his music blasting most of the time when there weren’t other people in the car.

“Wait!” The Angel of Death suddenly yells, leaning forward in his car seat. Tommy’s foot swaps to the brakes instinctively but he doesn’t press down, just prepares.

“What?!” Tommy twists his head to the side. “Jesus christ, you scared the shit out of me!”

The Angel of Death falls back into his chair. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

A pause. Was this guy fucking serious?

Tommy’s eyes dart between the road and the masked man next to him. “And how the hell do you intend on doing that?”

Warden hums in thought. “Drive-thrus exist for a reason.”

And that was how Tommy found himself rolling up to a drive-thru at an ungodly hour of the night, with four of the most wanted criminals in the country piled into his car.

They end up all getting burgers, and fries obviously, then stopping the van next to a park to eat. It was definitely strange, but all in all, what was Tommy supposed to do? He wasn’t going to turn down a free meal.

The van was comfortable enough, with Blade and Rocket in the back, leaning against the walls and chatting idly about the best animal and why it was a bee, if you took Rocket’s side. (Tommy learnt the hard way he was never going to bring that topic back up with Rocket again.) and With Warden and Angel sitting on top the car, chatting quietly about the day.

Once the night was concluded, Tommy dropped them off at Niki’s bakery before heading back to his own apartment.

The get-away driver part of his job didn’t feel very… get-away driver-ey?

Honestly, anyone could have done what he just did with considerably less panic.

Needless to say, Tommy’s pretty much sleep walking when he gets back to his apartment and he falls asleep before his head even hits the pillow. Yeah, the coming down part of an adrenaline high really drained you.

The nightmare he had wasn’t anything too bad. It was something typical, which he was entirely grateful for. In the nightmare he was running from something, he wasn’t sure what. Some kind of blurry figure. It was one of those stupid ones where for some reason your muscles feel entirely too weak and the monster, entirely too strong.

poke.

Tommy rubs his forehead and turns onto his side.

Poke !

“Fuck off.” Tommy grumbles, burying his face into his pillow. “‘m fockin’ sleepin’.”

“Leave the child alone, he’s tired.” A condescending voice drones from the doorframe.

Then another voice, directly above him goes, “He’s sleeepyyy,” and Tommy sits up out of bed so fast, his head slams into the nose of whoever was standing there. “Ow! Oh my god!”

Tommy stares wide eyed and fully alert at the stranger, clutching his face.

The stranger groans loudly. “Jesus. Am I— I’m bleeding.”

The other stranger, much shorter than the first with blue eyes and blond hair reaches up and shifts the taller ones hands away, eyes widening when there’s blood trailing down his face.

“Oh, he got you pretty good, mate.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy exclaims. “Damn right you’re bleeding, you just broke into my fucking apartment. Get out!”

Tommy blinks into reality.

He didn’t recognise the pair in the slightest. The bleeding one was tall, and had brown hair that looked like it should be curly but was too damaged to tell.

He was wearing sunglasses indoors, which Tommy immediately takes note is a freak thing to do, and he had a purple jacket on. His clothes were simple, black pants and a black tank, so Tommy doesn’t give him more than a once over before looking towards the shorter of the two.

I mean, he wasn’t short, but anyone looked small compared to the first fucking beanpole. He had a green jacket on and a black tank that came up around his neck and had a small red heart embroidered on the collar. In the easiest way for Tommy to describe, he had a pair of very dark green flowy pants on.

The stranger pinches his nose, blinking wildly. “God, that hurt. No I’m— We’re with the syndicate.”

“Yep.” The blond one grins, turning his joyful expression towards the tall fuck. Tommy could see his hair was pulled back in a tiny little pigtail. “Working… with the syndicate.”

Tommy blinks at them.

“Oh.”

The blond one turns and taps his friend on the shoulder. “You need tissues. You’ll bleed all over Theseus’ carpet.”

“Hm. Where’s your bathroom?” Sunglasses asks, leaving the room and walking off. Tommy couldn’t give a damn about his carpet. He did, however, give a damn about strangers rifling through his house.

“Wh— wait, wait, wait!” Tommy throws the blankets off him and gets up, following the man around. He shuffles past the short one, eyeing him cautiously but eventually letting himself turn his back to him.

Tommy’s quick to notice Blade, who was once again without his mask and had moved from the doorframe and over to his kitchen table, holding a newspaper that Tommy certainly didn’t own, and was reading it idly.

Tommy watches as the tall guy leans over his bathroom sink, using the bulk of Tommy’s tissues to stop his bleeding nose. He’s stuck watching in dismay as his tissue box is mutilated by a gangly hand that tears the top and shoves a handful against his face, loose tissues slipping free and floating to the ground.

“That was an impressive hit, mate.” Blond one says from behind Tommy and he startles, shifting out of the way so he has his back to Blade. It’s not a position he wants to be in. Not even slightly, but it’s where he’s at.

“Impressive is not the word I would use for it. Painful, maybe. Not impressive.” The man hisses, touching his nose carefully from inside the bathroom and Tommy watches from the doorframe.

The shorter one frowns from where he was stood near Tommy. “I think I heard something click.”

Tommy furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you guys here?” 

Surely they didn’t need him already for another job. He gets completely ignored and the man sighs, much to Tommy’s irritation. 

“Can you just heal me?”

“What?” Tommy gapes in horror. How the fuck did he know Tommy was a healer? Was his joining something that the whole syndicate now knew? God, it made sense but he was expecting at least more of a trial period or maybe some warning before the whole damn syndicate started knowing his every move. “No! I won’t just fucking heal you! I heal only syndicate members I’ve met. As far as I’m aware I don’t have to heal the extended syndicate.”

“Phil.” Sunglasses calls to the blondie. “Can you get Theseus to fix my nose?”

“That’s on you.” Phil deadpans and the tall one’s eyebrows draw together.

“Phil!”

“What do you want me to do? Force him?”

“Dude—” he starts and Tommy holds a hand up to stop him.

“No. No, no, no.” Tommy shuts down with a shake of his head. “We’re not doing this. Just… just stop being a prick and tell me why the fuck you’re here and who the fuck you both are.”

A beat of silence.

Phil smiles happily, “We’re your babysitters.”

“I need three babysitters?” Tommy crosses his arms. “Feels excessive. A little possessive even if I dared.”

“No, I’m your babysitter and Ran wanted to come with.” Phil says waving happily to Ran. “I’m here to watch you, Ran is here to get some experience on the field.”

“Okay, cool, so a babysitter and a rookie. Fantastic. I feel protected already.” Tommy shoves a thumb in Blade’s direction. “Why’s that dickhead here?”

“I’m babysitting your babysitters.” Blade responds without missing a beat, folding up his newspaper and walking over. Tommy takes a couple steps out of the way, refusing to let himself be fuckin’ surrounded by villains and tries to keep his cool. 

“My babysitter has a babysitter?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “I have a history of adopting children. Can’t be ‘trusted’ apparently.” Phil does air quotes around the word trusted as if he’s quoting another conversation and Tommy doesn’t find any kind of clarity in whatever the fuck he meant with a history of adopting children.

“What?” Tommy asks with genuine concern and confusion. Phil shrugs. The tall one nods proudly and Blade looks vaguely amused with the situation, leaning against the wall before abruptly pulling away as his expression sours into that of disgust.

“What the— ew bro, why is your wall sticky?”

“That’s my sticky wall, just ignore it.” Tommy waves a dismissive hand in his direction. “Why are you babysitting me?”

“It’s your what ?” Blade asks, head snapping towards Tommy.

Tommy jabs a finger in his direction. “Sticky. Wall. It’s in the name you stupid bitch, figure it out.”

“Oh, of course, my bad. I should have known your apartment had a sticky wall feature. Some people have house plants, you know.”

“Fuck off.”

“What else should we be warned about in this apartment?” Ran takes a cautious step away from Tommy’s stuff, looking at the bathroom with a new found caution.

“There’s my black shower stain, I wouldn’t touch that if I was you.” Tommy adds and there’s a moment of silence as they both look over at the shower stain. “And I’m pretty sure there’s asbestos growing in my closet.”

“Really?” Phil says, eyes widening. “There’s— is this place legal?” The man walks off into Tommy’s bedroom and Tommy can hear the faint creaking noise of his closet door being open. 

“Probably not!” Tommy calls and he walks himself into the kitchen so he can have breakfast.

“Phil,” Blade calls with the same kind of tone a kid who doesn’t want their mum talking to a friend at the supermarket for any longer has.

“I’m just checking! Asbestos is dangerous, Blade.”

“The apartment is cheap and it does the job.”

Phil comes back with a grimace on his face. “I’m getting that cleaned.”

“Don’t care. Didn’t ask. Why are you babysitting me?” Tommy grabs a box of cereal from the shelf and doesn’t bother pouring himself a bowl, instead plunging his hand straight in like a bag of chips.

Phil looks over to Blade and frowns. “The villains are worried about your safety outside of the job. See, most of their off time is actually still spent with other villains—”

“Weirdchamp.”

A beat of silence. 

Then another.

Hm.

Was it something he said?

Blade does not break eye contact and it’s more amusing than unsettling (which Tommy knows is an insane reaction to having a villain glare at you, but it’s where he’s at mentally.)

“...I’m sorry?” Ran asks.

“No, no, no, continue, please. I think it’s a little cringe they hang out outside of work, but whatever.” Tommy waves a hand encouragingly and Phil hesitates, looking uncertain of himself.

“I mean— it’s not cringe, but alright. Well uh, they think you’re easily compromised if you’re walking around alone so they sent an… associate to babysit you.”

“Huh.” Tommy squints. “So you’re like my bodyguards?”

“Sure?”

“Absolutely.” Ran nods approvingly. “Rocket is gonna be so jealous.”

Blade has a small smile that he hides poorly by clearing his throat. Tommy shoves a handful of cereal into his mouth and tries not to let his thoughts run away from him. 

 Tommy watches them carefully. “So what’s the deal? I thought you guys were gonna watch me from afar. Creeping around my house while I sleep isn’t my idea of far away.”

Ran snorts. “Well yeah, but it’s not like that was the rule.”

“Plus, it gets cold outside.” Blade adds thoughtfully.

Great. His unwelcomed house intruder was inside his apartment because he got a little chilly.

“So the temperature dropped and you broke into my home? That’s some rat behavior, I’ll be honest.”

“Shut up, child. It’s not ‘rat behaviour’, what does that even mean?”

 “I tried knocking but you didn’t answer.” Phil says with a shrug.

“He poked me in the face.” Tommy jabs a finger at Ran.

“How else was I going to wake you up?”

Tommy huffs, shaking his head. “You don’t. A man needs his beauty sleep.”

Blade eyes him. “Do you know what beauty sleep means?”

“You’re a dickhead.”

“Get used to it.” Ran nods.

Tommy scrunches his nose up and takes another mouthful of cereal. “So how do you know the syndicate?” 

Ran cringes at the sight. “Chew with your mouth closed. And I’m a… close friend.” He glances at Phil who nods and gives a stupid little thumbs up.

“Bitch.” Tommy chews slightly louder than before to Ran dismay. “I’ll chew how I like.”

“You’re more annoying than the villains described.” Ran notes and the others  laugh. Tommy nearly chokes on a mouthful of cereal. 

“Yeah, obviously. I mean, I can’t really piss off my murderous boss. You guys on the other hand…”

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? You know they’re not your boss, right? That deal you made with them means you’re a team. That’s equal terms.”

“I think I know more about the deal I made than you do, dumbass.” Tommy scoffs, putting the cereal box down. Phil straightens in surprise and looks towards Blade. 

Blade raises an eyebrow. “We’re operating on equal ground, kid.”

“Shut up, Blade. Nobody asked you.” Tommy retorts and Blade rolls his eyes, going back to his reading. “Look guys, I hope you’re not expecting an eventful day. I don’t really have anything planned.”

Phil hums. “We’ll go to a cafe and talk.”

They end up deciding on heading to Niki’s cafe, of course, by Blade’s insistence. Apparently caffeine was a must have for early in the mornings. Tommy wasn’t inclined to disagree. He slept like shit.

The door jingles when they enter and the smell of freshly baked muffins hit Tommy so hard, he asks Blade to buy him one (What was your babysitter’s babysitter good for if they wouldn’t even buy you muffins?) 

Surprisingly, the man obliged and Tommy scored himself a blueberry muffin. 

All of them briefly greet Niki and take a seat in a booth by the window, with Blade, Ran, and Phil squishing onto one side and Tommy having the other half of the booth to himself.

They’d barely arrived before Phil’s phone buzzed and he checked it before quietly excusing himself, a worried look on his face.

Tommy had stared after him, trying to place exactly what on earth his babysitters other job for the syndicate could be.

He assumed they were all dangerous. I mean, he knew who Blade was. But Ran was a fucking mystery and a half but to be working with the Syndicate he had to have some kind of qualifications. Phil didn’t exactly give him fighter vibes either, but something told Tommy he probably had a strong build and more than one scars with a fun story.

“Where’s that asshole going?” Tommy asks when Phil rushes out the backdoor of the cafe.

“Work.” Blade answers dryly and Tommy stares at him expectantly, wanting more answers but neither of them fill the silence and Ran looks increasingly awkward.

 Tommy orders a hot chocolate because Niki’s hot drinks were always de-fucking-lightful, Blade just wanted a black coffee with sugar and Ran orders a…

“—fucking sweet tea?” Tommy scrunches his face up and Ran rolls his eyes. “So let me get this straight, you want whipped cream…” Tommy looks up at Ran who nods.  “Whipped cream in your tea?”

“Yes.”

“I promise you, you haven’t seen the worst of it.” Blade says and Tommy thinks from the way he says it that he’s getting some fuckin’ flashback shit to a meal so undescribable, Tommy almost lets the topic drop entirely.

Tommy lowers his voice into a hush. “That’s disgraceful and disgusting. You’re fired, I’d rather take my chances with Dream. You like sweet tea?”

Ran wraps his hands around the mug. “It’s not a sweet tea. It’s normal tea.” 

“Yeah, with fucking whipped cream on it.”

“You’ve got whipped cream on your hot chocolate.” Ran huffs.

“Because it's hot chocolate!” Tommy exclaims. “You’re simply wrong. I agree that tea should have sugar in it, but whipped cream crosses the line.”

“Theseus is right.” Blade says and Ran looks genuinely offended.

“Dude! You’re both asses.”

“Get used to it.” Blade and Tommy retorts at the same time and Tommy grins.

Ran shakes his head, drinking his abomination so Tommy continues, “I could fight you.”

Blade all but chokes on his coffee while Ran looks up with a smile. “I would love to see you try.”

Hm. Maybe challenging the security guards wasn’t a good idea. Tommy runs his mouth anyway, “Nah, it would be too embarrassing for you.”

“No fighting.” Blade answers shortly, dismissing the idea although Tommy swears he can see the idea playing in Blade’s eyes.

  Crisis averted. Tommy shifts in his seat, thumbing the little mini plate that his hot chocolate was sitting on top of.

They lapse into a short silence, quickly broken up by several voices singing ‘Wheels on the Bus’ terribly off key in chorus starts blasting full volume from someone’s pocket. Tommy recognises only one of the voices to be Ran and the other two he has no familiarity with.

 Tommy bursts out laughing from the suddenness, shooting a confused look at the two idiots squished next to each other across from him.

Blade stoically pulls out his phone, pressing a button and holding it up to his ear.

“Is your ringtone actually—” Tommy stops himself when Ran holds a finger to their mouth, the playful look that Tommy had gotten used to quickly slipping away and hiding from sight. Blade listens for a moment, says a bland “On it,” and then hangs up.

Tommy can see Niki shoot a concerned look over at the table and he holds his tongue for a moment.

Or tries to.

“Who the fuck was that? You look like a puppy dog just got shot.”

“Angel needs me.” Blade says dryly and then turns in his booth, looking towards Niki who already had her eyes on him. “Can you watch them?”

“Serious?” Ran asks, eyebrows drawn together and Blade nods.

“Yeah, of course I can.”Niki smiles and then Blade is up from his seat and walking towards her. Niki moves and opens the door to the kitchen, whispering something to Blade who must mutter something back because her expression sours.

They both leave the room and Tommy frowns.

“The fuck is that about?”

“Oh, me, Sneeg, and Tubbo changed Blade’s ringtone a couple months ago because we thought it would be funny, which it was until it ruined his stealth mission and he got shot, but now he thinks he’s proving a point about masculinity by not changing it back.” Ran says proudly and then adds with a smile. “We have a running theory that he actually just can’t figure out how to fix it.”

“No, dumbass, I meant the call.”

Ran blinks and shrugs. “Oh. I dunno. Aegis had a mission which I imagine Angel has joined him on and I guess Blade was needed for back up.”

“Why the fuck will you tell me some peoples names and not others? Do you have any idea how confusing that is?”

“Blades ringtone is without any voice changers.” Ran says like it’s obvious and something clicks in Tommy’s head. “You can know the names of whos singing that, not their villain identities. In the same wave, you can know what villains are on a mission. Not what people.”

Tommy frowns, leaning back in his chair. “Can you tell me what they were doing.”

“That’s a secret!” Niki calls out, who startles the hell out of Tommy and looks vaguely apologetic for it. Fucking eavesdropper.

Ran looks down at his cup and after a pause he whispers. “Buying more weapons.”

“Right.”

Ran bites the inside of his cheek. “Something must have gone wrong.”

Tommy glances over at the kitchen door. “Guess it’s just us then.”

Ran nods and there’s a short silence. “So… tell me about yourself?”

“What?”

“I wanna know who you are.”

“You know more about me than I know about you.”

“Not really.” Ran hums. “I only know your name is Theseus and you’re a healer.”

“I don’t know what your powers are.” Tommy says pointedly and Ran both shrink back, as if it’s a secret they’re not allowed to tell. Tommy frowns and redirects his questioning. “I wanna know how you ended up working for the syndicate.”

“Long story,” Ran sucks in a breath, “I guess mostly through connections. Blade brought me in. Angel was happy with the set up.”

“Connections, like as in friends? Villain friends?” Tommy raises an eyebrow and Ran looks a little nervous.

“Sorta?” Ran says and then shrugs, warming his hands on his drink. “I only really had Tubbo, but we’ve made a shit ton of friends since working here.”

Tommy nods, feeling vaguely like he’d heard Tubbo’s name mentioned once.

“D’you have many friends?” Ran asks. “Anyone we should look out for?”

Tommy scoffs, half laughing. “No, I don’t really do friends.” 

Ran raises an eyebrow. “Everybody does friends, even if they don’t realize it.”

“Yeah, not me.”

Ran watches Tommy very carefully, as though he’s taking in every detail of his face. He opens his mouth to say something and then hesitates.

“Do you… have parents?”

“No.” Tommy says and Ran looks more interested than before.

A pause. Ran scrunches his nose up. “Siblings?”

“No.” Tommy scoffs.

He leans on the table. “Cousins?”

“Nope.”

“Uncles?” Ran questions. Tommy shakes his head and leans on the table, matching them.

“How about a nephew or niece? An aunt? You seem like the kind of guy to have an aunt.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tommy snorts. “No, no and no.”

“Any family at all?” Ran sinks back into his chair exasperated and Tommy sits back too.

“Nope.”

“A role model?” Ran shoots out proudly, coming up with another idea.

“Do I look like the sort of mother fucker to have a role model?” Tommy deadpans and Ran holds his hands up in surrender.

“Most people like celebrities or heroes or something!” Ran shakes his head, taking a spoon and stirring his drink up. “I don’t know, I’m throwing ideas out there.”

“I’m not a kid and I literally work for villains.” Tommy rolls his eyes. “Heroes are all pricks.”

“I agree with you there.” Ran lets his hands fall and hit the table. “How about a person you look out for or vice versa? God, even a teacher who checks in on you?”

“No and no. Wh— do you think I’m still in school?”

“Aren’t you seventeen?” Ran asks and the answer is yes, Tommy is barely seventeen and he should definitely be in school. Not that they needed to know that.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re getting desperate.” Tommy laughs.

Ran sinks back into his chair, looking at Tommy a little sadly. “You’ve never had any of those things?”

Tommy goes quiet, smiling and looking away. “Okay, I used to do friends.”

“I knew it!” Ran gasps loudly, like this is the revelation of a life time.

“Not anymore though.” Tommy looks up pointedly and Rans smile fades away. “I’m not… good at it and it wasn’t good for me.”

Ran frowns, “You can’t be bad at having friends.” 

Tommy clicks his tongue. “I am living proof that your statement is incorrect.”

“We’ll see about that. Angel will be dedicated to proving you wrong.”

“So what’s your family like then? If you’re so great at it.”

Ran freezes up and stutters over their words, looking awkwardly as excuses spill from their mouth.

“Well Tubbo is pretty much my family. I guess— I don’t know. Neither of us knew our real parents. The syndicate is pretty much our family. That sorta makes you, like—”

“Don’t.” Tommy says, folding his arms and Ran looks apologetic. “You’ve barely graduated from stranger who broke into my apartment.”

Ran’s expression waivers. “What am I now?”

“Colleague.”

Ran laughs and shrugs. “That’s good enough for me then, Theseus.”

A pause.

“Tommy.” He ducks his head down and swirls the remnants of his drink. “If we have to get comfortable with each other, you can call me Tommy.”

An even longer pause. Tommy doesn’t know why, but it makes his heart race.

“Tommy?” Ran tilts his head. “How do you get Tommy from Theseus. That’s an insane nickname.”

“It’s a— wh? You twat, it’s a childhood nickname, okay?” Tommy was lying through his teeth but he didn’t need to know it. If he was going to be followed around by Ran all day though, they might as well know his real name. 

With the villains, it didn’t matter as much. He was just starting to think of Theseus as his villain name more than anything else. Although… god, would he need to pick out a villain name soon?

“Y’know, the villains would call you Tommy if you preferred it.” Ran says and Tommy waves his hand in a so-and-so manner like it didn’t really matter to him.

“It’s just my nickname. Elementary school didn’t take kindly to the name Theseus, so I just sorta simplified it.”

Ran doesn’t seem to notice the lie and shrugs. “Tommy it is then. Ran is a nickname too, you know.”

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. Colleagues don’t get to pick their nicknames.”

“You dickhead!” Ran laughs, mouth open in shock and Tommy’s a little bit surprised to hear a swear from his mouth. Ran shakes his head as he comes down from his laughter and shifts the topic along. “Alright, I told you about my family. Now you talk about yours.”

Tommy leans back a little bit, thumbing the side of his mug. Tommy looks down at his drink. It was nearly finished already. It feels like it disappeared so quickly he barely noticed.

“I don’t know, growing up is weird. My parents passed away when I was seven.” Tommy says with a bit of a forced smile. “Technically six, since my birthday was the next day. But I don’t really remember them very well. I have rough memories. Like they’re just blurry faces or figures or a warm feeling, you know?”

Ran doesn’t make any jokes. They just listen to Tommy, nodding when appropriate. He didn’t have that look of pity across his face, which Tommy was grateful for. It always made him sick when people pitied him.

Tommy laughs, jabbing a finger against the table. “Oh, and fucking foster care, man. I hated that shit. I ran away more times than I have fingers, I got into fights more often than I can count, I think my foster worker was relieved when I ran away for the last time.” Ran looks at him knowingly and nods.

“Started stealing?”

“No Ran, I started an honest living at the age of 9.” Tommy chuckles.  “Yes, I started stealing.”

Ran clicks his tongue. “Can’t believe our good civilian committed petty theft in his youth.”

He’s not sure if what he stole could be considered ‘petty theft’ but he’s not about to let Ran know that.

“Shut up,” Tommy scoffs. “I said I wasn’t proud of it.”

“So then what?” Ran folds his arms. “After you were nine…?”

Tommy trails the grain of the wood table with his finger. “...I was homeless for a year and then the rest is history. I met a guy and he helped me out.”

Ran stares at him.

“That’s it?” Ran encourages.

Tommy bursts out laughing. “What do you mean, that’s it?!”

“You met a guy and then what?” Ran says and Tommy can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face.

“The rest is history.” Tommy responds and then shakes his head, clearing the subject. “It doesn’t matter, let’s change the subject. What do we wanna do after this? Can’t exactly kill an entire day sitting inside a cafe.”

Ran sits with his jaw dropped open and shakes his head. “No, what happened? You can’t just stop like that!”

“Well I just did and you’re not finding out anything else. I don’t trauma dump to colleagues.”

Ran looks flabbergasted for a moment then sinks backwards, processing desperately.

“Okay.” Ran says. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s do something fun.” Tommy suggests, knowing full damn well he’s uh… well he’s never really gotten out much. “Like uhhhh. Like, bowling?”

“Banned.” Ran says sadly.

“How the fuck are banned from bowling?” Tommy snorts.

“It’s a long story and it involved bad ideas and Rocket questioning if he could add a thruster to a bowling ball. The answer is yes, but not without a lot of damages.”

Tommy sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. Fine. What about, like, golf? Mini golf? I’ve heard that’s fun. Never played, but it can’t be that hard.”

“No, I got run over by a golf cart the last time I played. We could go to an arcade?”

“I have a borderline addiction to those places.” Tommy shakes his head. “If we go in, we might not come out.”

 Ran scratches the back of his head awkwardly and then jerks with an idea. “Oh, swimming?”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, are you taking the piss?” 

“Indoor pools exist.” Ran suggests, taking a swig of the last of his drink. It leaves a thin mustache of whipped cream on his upper lip. Tommy doesn’t tell him. “I’m not the biggest fan of swimming, but it’s an option and it seems like our best so far.”

“I don’t know how to swim.” Tommy confesses.

Ran laughs, falling forward onto the table like the dramatic bastard he is. “How do you not know how to swim?”

“I never got the opportunity to learn! Not all of us were privileged pricks like you who had access to fancy indoor pools.” Tommy folds his arms and Ran rolls his eyes.

“There’s an indoor pool kinda close to here actually, it’s about a five minute drive.” Ran suggests.

Tommy knows the one Ran is talking about. He’s never been inside the building, but he’d recognise the sign and outside of the building.

 “It’s three minutes if you take a shortcut.” Tommy murmurs, mostly talking to himself.

“You know a shortcut?” Ran muses. “A shortcut to a pool you don’t know how to swim in?”

Tommy drops the spoon into his drink with a shrug. “Fuck it, let’s go swimming. I’m a fast learner.”

They stand up and Niki appears like their shenanigans summoned her.

“Where are you two going?”

“Nowhere.” Tommy lies instinctively.

Ran pales. “We’re not doing anything, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Niki raises an unamused eyebrow at him and sighs. She pulls out her phone and taps it twice with her pointer. “You need anything, you call me. You get lost, you get caught, you see a hero, you come back immediately. Most importantly, if you see Blade, tell him you snuck out.” Niki winks on that last one and Tommy thinks he’ll grow to like Niki quite a bit.

Ran lights up and nods and before long, they’re both out the door and heading straight for the pools.

The inside of the pool place is considerably nicer than the out.

Ran had bought them towels and swim shorts. Tommy had called him a rich bastard without offering to pay for himself.

The mens changing room was huge, a rectangular room with clean wooden benches and some metal hooks above where you could hang your stuff. There were a few toilet stalls, opposite that was showers, and a couple individual changing stalls which Tommy decides to help himself to.

“So are you going to take off your sunglasses?”

 Tommy asks from where he’s stuffed inside a changing room stall, struggling to tie the stupid little white rope on his shorts.

“I’ll replace them for shaded googles.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I was joking.” Ran replies. “Obviously I’m not taking off my sunglasses. Hurry up, it’s cold in here and the pool is heated.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking movin’, alright?” Tommy scoffs, grabbing his towel and slinging it over his shoulder.  Tommy rolls his eyes, shoving the door open.

“Finally.” Ran says boredly. Tommy closes the door behind him out of habit.

“Alright! I’m done, impatient bastard…” Tommy turns around and trails off when he sees the scar on Blink’s side. A small patch of pink flesh that looks identical to the injury Tommy healed back at the bank. Tommy’s eyes flick up, and then back to the scar.

Ran— fuck, Blink looks equally as horrified as Tommy. It takes Tommy a second to process why and then the colour drains from his face.

“Oh my god… Tommy.” Blink stares at him and Tommy can’t do anything but stare back in terror.

“You’re Blink.” Tommy chokes out and he feels so stupid. So fucking idiotic. How did he not recognise him sooner? It was so obvious now that he could see it. The same brown hair, the same height, the same mannerisms for fuck sakes. 

Blink’s gaze flickers, looking apologetic for a moment.

“What? No, wait, Tommy.” Blink reaches a hand out and Tommy shoves it away, his heart skipping a beat.

“Don’t touch me.” Tommy panics, backing up into the stall door he just closed. It swings open and Tommy cringes at the little enclosed space he boxes himself into. “You.. You lied to me. You’re Blink! Your scar, I fucking recognise it.” Tommy spits, and he takes a step back, heart pounding in his chest.

“My scar?” Ran looks down, his gaze fixing on his scar. His expression softens for a second but there’s a level of concern gleaming in his eyes that makes Tommy feel sick.

 “I— hang on, lets talk about this in a second. Tommy, what happened to your back?”

Chapter Text

Tommy goes rigid, like someone had just submerged him in ice water. Blink stares at him and Tommy realizes it’s too late to get out of his mistake.

Tommy is angry at Blink. He is furious and scared and panicked, all rolled into a ball that’s high in his chest. But there is nothing more distracting to Tommy than the fact Blink is seeing his scars.

Not the small useless ones that tell of small fights and injuries never properly healed. But the ones that shadowed all else in comparison which streaked his back.

“Tommy—” Blink reaches out and Tommy smacks his hand away.

“No, you— back the fuck up! Don’t come closer.” Tommy spits, hands raised in warning. Blink hesitates, a frozen look on his face as a thousand possibilities all whir through his mind.
Tommy is stuck on that look of pity.

The look that makes his throat tight and his breath quicken because there is so much pity written on Blinks face, Tommy can’t stomach it.

   His voice is low, dangerous. It sets off all kinds of alarm bells in Tommy’s mind. “We’re supposed to be a team, what the fuck is wrong with you? Ever since that mission last week you’ve been acting up.”

Why didn’t he think? God, Why didn’t he just stop for one fucking second and think about what was going to happen? Of course Blink or Ran or whoever the fuck would see his scars if he was going swimming.
It didn’t even cross Tommy’s mind, why would it? Nobody other than Dream had even seen it. 

“What happened?” Blink says breathlessly and Tommy flinches back, one hand planted on the wall of the changing room stall to keep him supported.

He felt weightless, like he was going to tip over any second.

“Don’t.” Tommy croaks. “Don’t you dare.”

“Tommy those scars!”

“Are nothing! They’re fucking nothing, don’t try and change the subject, asshole. You’re Blink!” Tommy takes a shaky, rushed breath. He pushes the strength into his voice even though he feels as unsteady as ever. “You lied to me. What the fuck is wrong with you, why didn’t you tell me you were Blink?”

Blink stares, mouth open and wrestles for words. After a moment, Tommy shakes his head and brushes Blink off, shoving his way past. He can feel his skin burning from the touch and feel the weight of Blink’s eyes on the back of his neck. He hates every second of it.

“People don’t just get scars like that, Tommy.” Blink tries, softer this time, and reaches to gently touch Tommy’s arm.

“I know.” Tommy swallows hard and for a moment Tommy feels how tight the skin is on his back. The sting of muscle aches and damaged nerves. For just one moment, Tommy thinks he can feel the biggest scar, stretching from his right shoulder and rippling all the way down, a jagged diagonal line, to his left side like someone is tracing it with their thumb. “If you want answers from me, just fucking ask. Don’t sneak around like a fucking pussy, pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I wasn’t pretending.” Blink explains, a hurt look flashing on his face. “I thought it would be easier if you got to know who I am before you got to know the villain side of things.”

“Christ,” Tommy mutters. Fuck this. For a short exposed second, Tommy turns away as quickly as possible to grab his shirt and throw it on. He thinks Blink pales for the briefest of seconds when Tommy turns away and Tommy feels like his heart might just explode out of his chest.

“Tommy, you’re always tense when you’re around the villains so Phil and I just thought… we just thought that maybe it would be easier for you. If you met me as Ranboo instead of Blink.” Blink stammers over his words and this flash of memory hits Tommy, of when Warden called Blink ‘Ranboo’ and Tommy had skimmed over it. How on earth had Tommy been so blind?

Blink continues to try and find the right justifications. “I thought that the day would pass by more smoothly. I didn’t lie about anything, I didn’t ask you those questions in the cafe as a way to hurt you, I just wanted to make a friend. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well, mission fucking failed, I guess.” Tommy snaps. “If you want to get to know me, next time just do what villains are meant to do and kick my ass for it. Hell, get Warden to use his fucking powers on me! At least that way I’ll know you’re trying to get information out of me.” 

“Tommy, that’s the opposite of what I want.” Blink pleads. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to get to know the real you, not the person you pretend to be when you’re around villains.” Blink hesitates, choosing his next words carefully.

It makes Tommy’s skin crawl. He felt vulnerable, far too vulnerable for someone stuck somewhere with a villain. How had he let the situation spiral out of control like this?

He was lying low until Dream saw him at the bank and his entire life imploded in front of his eyes. The villains are the only people on earth who can protect him so it was that or leave the city.

Fucksakes, why didn’t he just leave? It would have been easier than having this conversation right now.

Tommy doesn’t know how much time passes but it’s long enough that Blink is rambling again, shaking his head apologetically.

“Dude, I’m so genuinely sorry. I didn’t want to upset you. That was the whole point of this.”

“It’s fine.” Tommy grits out, in a way that suggests it’s really not but Tommy doesn’t have many better alternatives right now. Blink opens his mouth to speak and then shuts it again. 

“Tommy, your back...” Blink whispers.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He could barely hold eye contact with Blink, not when his whole face felt like it was burning. Not when Tommy could feel all four of the scars, stretching over his skin.

“I’m being serious.” Blink says, voice soft and quiet in that way that makes Tommy want to rip his head off because he can’t stand it. He can’t fucking stand it. “What happened?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Tommy, this is serious.” Blink says and Tommy stiffens when he steps closer. “Who did that to you?”

“You have no right to be asking me that.” Tommy hisses, forcing himself to stand straight. Tommy hears his phone buzz faintly behind him and nearly deflates in relief since he now had a way out of this fucking conversation.

Tommy turns and grabs his phone, turning back to Blink. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Blink’s hand move up and without really thinking, Tommy snatches his wrist, gripping it tightly.

“Blink, I told you to fucking leave. Just… just leave it alone.” Tommy warns and with his voice a little weaker than before finishes with, “Please.”

Tommy couldn’t be upset about the scar, it was his fault Ranboo even saw it in the first place. He couldn’t be angry that Ran was concerned and genuinely asking what had happened. Fuck, if Tommy saw a huge ass scar on someones back he’d be curious too. But his scar isn’t something he wants to talk about.

 Ever.

Tommy turns his phone on, eyes flicking to a text. “Angel is messaging me, we should go.”

“Tommy if you ever want to talk—”

“Ranboo, stop.” Tommy snaps. His head was screaming in panic at him, but using Ranboo’s real name caught the attention that Tommy needed to catch. “I’m fine and I’m being so serious when I say I’m not telling you. If you want to find out, then you assholes will have to make me.”

“What? Make you?” Ranboo asks in horror and Tommy shrugs.

“Warden has his power for a reason, right? I’m sure that’s not above you.” Tommy was entirely reliant on the idea that this was in fact above Ranboo. The idea of Warden using his power on him made Tommy actually sick to the stomach.

Ranboo stares at Tommy like he’ll be able to figure him out, ever thought and feeling that just went through him, in a matter of seconds and instead he ends up staying silent.

“We wouldn’t do that.” Ranboo answers in a quiet voice.