Chapter Text
“Tommy! Behind you!”
A mass of torn, black clothes flew past Tubbo’s line of sight with a shriek of pain as Tommy’s boot made contact with his attacker’s sternum, sending the man flying. Tubbo grinned and ducked under the swing of a knife, making his way closer to his friend and pulling up his black mask as he went. Tommy was fending off three attackers by himself, blue eyes flickering from figure to figure in an attempt to distinguish each one’s movements all at once. Ranboo was teleporting around the narrow alleyway, knocking people out with a baton he’d stolen from one of the attackers. All three were weighed down with bags of jewellery and expensive knick-knacks from an old townhouse they’d just plundered and all three of them were beginning to feel very inconvenienced by the attempted mugging they’d witnessed on their way home. Tubbo arrived by Tommy’s side sporting a bruise on his side and a weeping cut on his arm; Tommy himself was already littered with slashes and bruises from the five wannabe thieves and their knives.
“These guys are a tad stronger than I thought,” Tommy panted, pushing a tuft of blonde hair off his face.
“Just a tad,” Tubbo laughed. An attacker from their right tried to grab hold of Tubbo’s shirt; the smaller boy quickly dodged and delivered a sharp kick to the back of their kneecap, sending them keeling over with a grunt of pain. Tommy appeared beside him and gave them another kick to the solar plexus, for good luck.
There were five muggers in total; two had been knocked out, two had been recently kicked to the ground by Tubbo and Tommy and one was currently engaged in a pointless fistfight with Ranboo. It was almost too dark to see in the lacklustre light of the street lamps hidden as they were behind a fog of old dust and poor upkeep, but the carnage was depressing all the same.
“We should go save Boo,” Tubbo decided. Tommy nodded his agreement and they both ran to their friend’s aid, kicking the guy that had attacked Tubbo in the stomach, for good luck. Ranboo was teleporting around his opponent, anxiously avoiding their attacks with a ridiculously apologetic look on his face. The mugger was getting pissed off – judging by the loud swearing and screaming echoing through the alley. Tommy clenched his hands into fists as they approached, prepared to knock them out as quickly as possible.
“Oi! Boob man! Roof!” He yelled as they approached. Ranboo glanced in his direction, then, after only a moment of hesitation, disappeared in a puff of purple particles. The mugger stumbled a bit at their sudden lack of a target, then turned with a look of horror to find Tubbo and Tommy flying straight towards them. Tubbo kicked them in the stomach; Tommy slid behind to deliver the final blow. Then came a loud hissing noise.
“Enhancement!” Tubbo yelled, throwing up his hands. Tommy rolled behind him and a clear, spherical shield appeared in front of them.
An explosion bounded uproariously against Tubbo’s forcefield in a flash of orange and yellow light. It whistled around it like a strong wind around a dome, blowing hot air past Tommy’s injured arm. The loud boom of the explosion faded and Tubbo gathered the force from the shimmering sphere into his hands.
“Tommy, get back,” he ordered. It was an unnecessary instruction. Tommy was already sprinting away when a soft vroomp ing noise sounded and suddenly Tommy was standing on the roof of a nearby building beside Ranboo.
There was another noise like a muffled, rotund thud and then silence. Tommy and Ranboo peered over the edge of the building to find Tubbo with his hands on his knees, panting heavily at the ground.
“You alright Tubs?” Tommy yelled to him. Tubbo shot him a thumbs up and laughed tiredly, almost hysterically.
“Yeah, that was sick!” He yelled back and Tommy grinned in spite of himself. Ranboo disappeared to retrieve Tubbo and Tommy examined the shaken alleyway. The muggers were lying against the filthy concrete floor like abandoned sticks in a park after a windy day. The mugger that had used an enhancement was slumped against a wall, completely unconscious and bleeding a little from their bottom lip. Tubbo appeared on top of the roof with Ranboo holding tight onto his shoulders and punched Tommy in the arm.
“I knocked them out in one blast, did you see that?” He exclaimed as quietly as possible. Tommy instinctively slung an arm over his shoulders and grinned back at him.
“Couldn’t see it but I heard it,” he replied. “Man’s not getting up for a while.” Tubbo and Tommy glanced down at the wreckage of the alleyway with a simultaneous, satisfied hum. Ranboo stood behind them, long tail flickering nervously from side to side, and stared down at the wreckage with a look of apprehension.
“Still got everything?” Tubbo asked, ever the pragmatist. All three of the thieves checked their pockets for the goodies they’d stolen earlier that night and nodded in confirmation.
“If we have any money after the rent, I’m getting ice cream,” Tubbo declared. Tommy grinned at the idea and they fist-bumped. Behind them, Ranboo was shifting anxiously from foot to foot, waiting for them to finish speaking.
“Are you two alright?” He asked. “I saw the explosion but…” Tommy and Tubbo looked back at their friend and their grins melted from elated to reassuring.
“We’re alright Boo,” Tubbo replied, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him into the huddle. “Just a few cuts and bruises.”
“Yeah,” Tommy added. “That guy was nothing against us.”
“What are you talking about? I did all the work!” Tubbo exclaimed, smiling in spite of his whining. Ranboo cleared his throat and Tubbo grimaced guiltily. “Ok, Boo helped too,” he added with a false air of reluctance.
“Yeah ok maybe it was all your enhancements,” Tommy admitted, rolling his eyes nonchalantly. “But I kicked the shit out of that other guy, didn’t you see me?” Ranboo placed a hand on each of their shoulders placatingly.
“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “We should get home before anyone sees us.” Forgetting their meaningless argument, Tubbo and Tommy nodded at their friend. The night was beginning to light up with the golden fingertips of sunrise and they were all still sporting bleeding, bruising wounds. The pressure on their shoulders increased and suddenly they were standing in the middle of a bare room filled with only an old, pecan couch, a low coffee table covered with half-broken plates and cutlery, a dirty mattress and a minuscule kitchen.
“Alright, first aid time,” Ranboo said, looking much more comfortable now they were concealed from the public eye. “Sit down you two.”
“I only got cut once,” Tubbo said, sitting down on the pecan couch and pulling up the black sleeve of his old, tearing shirt to reveal a long cut running around the curve of his bicep. “Tommy’s worse off.”
“Eh I’m fine,” Tommy replied nonchalantly, plonking down beside him. Tubbo and Ranboo both shot him a sharp look. He was sporting a few cuts to the stomach, a deep cut on his leg and a black bruise growing on his arm, the worst of the three by far. Ranboo ducked under the coffee table and pulled out the first aid kit while Tubbo wrestled Tommy onto the couch. Tommy struggled, but only until Ranboo started wrapping up his leg and it suddenly hurt to move.
“You two are the biggest worrywarts in the world,” he whined, slumping back against the couch.
“No, you’re just the most reckless person in the world,” Tubbo retorted, rummaging through the first aid kit for some bandages. Tommy snorted but there was no comeback. They worked in silence. Ranboo was almost completely wound free, having used his teleportation to avoid attacks the entire fight, so he was the main healer while Tubbo was the designated strongman whenever Tommy started whining about being fussed over and tried to escape again. As soon as they were finished they all collapsed on the couch and then each other with Tubbo’s head on Ranboo’s shoulder and Tommy’s on his lap.
“Might just fall asleep here Boo,” Tubbo mumbled unapologetically.
“Please don’t,” Ranboo groaned. “It’ll hurt in the morning.”
“I dunno Boob man,” Tommy mumbled, closing his eyes comfortably. “‘T’s pretty nice.” Tubbo hummed in agreement, closing his eyes too. Ranboo made a noise of displeasure.
“No please,” he begged. “You know I can’t move you.”
“Too bad. Cry about it,” Tommy replied, yawning. Ranboo rested his head back against the couch and groaned loudly. Tubbo and Tommy smiled sleepily. Despite all his whining, Ranboo wouldn’t move and they both knew it. He wouldn’t move any more than the heating would work in the winter and their stove function at all times. And so they were cuddled up together on the creaky couch, exhausted, bleeding and finally home.
***
The tall, three-towered structure of the Three Lives Agency was well known amongst the populace of Esemp City. Set in the first and most prominent district in the city, the grand, horseshoe-shaped building was home to the finest heroes in the country all of whom ate, slept, trained and worked within the facility. Thanks to them, crime rates were down 60% and the last dangerous villain appeared over twenty years ago. Their positive image was spread almost worldwide and many a hero-wannabe had spent their lives trying to earn the right to walk these elegant hallways.
Phil was proud of his sons, he really was. They’d worked hard to get into Three Lives. They were good people and he really believed they could change the world if they put their minds to it.
It’s just…
“ Dad ! Techno’s stolen my leftovers again!”
They just needed a little bit more growing up.
Wilbur rushed into the living room of their assigned apartment in the Three Lives Accommodation Tower, holding an empty container in his hands. His face was flushed red with anger and he was still dressed in his pyjamas which served to make the scene appear even more comical and ridiculous. Phil, who had been peacefully reading a book on the couch, glanced up at his very-much-an-adult son and sighed heavily.
“Wil, you ate that last night, remember?” He said. Even to him, the sentence sounded weak and exhausted.
“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Techno’s voice yelled from the kitchen. “He won’t believe me!”
Phil groaned and slapped his book over his face. His sons were two of the best heroes in the agency; two-thirds of the famous SBI. They were a perfect team in the field and a terrifying duo with Phil as their mentor. But at home they were-
“I left some for this morning! I know I did!”
…children.
The arguing continued and Phil began to pray to a higher power he didn’t believe in. It was a little unfair of him– he was the one that decided to adopt them– but at this point, it seemed only God would be able to help.
Wil had been so sweet as a child, with his puff of curly brown hair and glasses that didn’t quite fit his face. He’d had a bad habit of using his enhancement whenever he was anxious and it had gotten him into a lot of scrapes with his foster carers in earlier years, many of whom had had several heart attacks over the boy’s ability to simply disappear and walk through walls. Techno had looked almost identical back then, although his hair had been straighter than Wil’s and his glasses actually managed to fit his face. He’d dyed his hair pink to distinguish himself from his twin years before the two had started training to become heroes and it had stuck for the sake of concealing their familial relationship– although their eyes remained the same dark brown colour.
Phil sighed again. He sort of missed those adorable little children, even if they had been so shy and anxious; even if it had taken years for them to grow comfortable around other people.
“Zephyrus, Phantom and Blade to the Heroics Tower, please. Zephyrus, Phantom and Blade, 30th floor of the Heroics Tower.”
The fighting stopped at the sound of a familiar AI echoing through the apartment – Sam Nook, the ex-hero Awesamdude’s creation. Wil’s eyes widened and he rushed back into his room to get dressed, completely forgetting the argument to panic about his lack of hero attire this late in the morning. Phil rose from his couch with another sigh. He was already dressed in his costume; forest green robes with golden lining paired with extremely comfortable and flexible black pants and boots. Technoblade strolled out of the kitchen already set in his more aesthetic, white poet's shirt and a red cape that flowed from his shoulders in an elegant wave every time he walked, complete with the same pants and boots as Phil (They were very comfortable).
“Did Wil forget Dream’s meeting?” He asked with a smug smirk. Phil shot him a withering look.
“Did you forget to remind him when he walked out in his pyjamas at 9:30 in the morning on a Friday?” Techno lost his smirk and chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck like the guilty sibling he was. Phil suppressed an eye roll and they both stood to wait for Wil to reappear. He did, eventually, and they all walked out of the apartment and down the hallway that led to the elevator without incident.
Three Lives was separated into three towers; the Heroics Tower (which housed official hero business), the Accommodation Tower (which housed the apartments in which the heroes lived) and the Development Tower (where costumes and equipment were made). Usually, Phil, Wilbur and Technoblade were required to travel down the Accommodation Tower, through the horseshoe courtyard and up the Heroics tower to the 59th floor where the SBI office lay. Today they were going to the 30th floor, where the Dream Team was situated.
They were pleasantly surprised to find standing at the lift doors of the Heroics Tower a rather frazzled looking Niki, holding a package in her hands.
“Niki!” Wil said, brightening up at the sight of her (He’d been sulking all the way down). “What are you doing here?” Niki turned to see him just as elevator doors opened and immediately smiled.
“Just delivering some pastries to the Dream Team,” she replied, walking into the compartment with them and pressing the button for the 30th floor. “Jack’s running the bakery while I’m gone.”
Niki Nihachu and Jack Manifold had been two of the most famous heroes in the industry during their five year run of the career. Although they were both set with high grade, useful enhancements, they had decided to retire early and start up a bakery in the 24th district. Although everyone missed them, not a single hero in Three Lives hesitated to promote their business as much as possible with their high paying salaries.
(They also took great pleasure in using their former colleagues for sweets whenever the hero business got difficult to manage.)
“Is it for the meeting?” Techno asked in a tone that would’ve hidden his anticipation if everyone in the elevator wasn’t well acquainted with his subtle mannerisms.
“Yes,” Niki replied. “Although I’m afraid I’m a bit late. I forgot until the last minute and couldn’t run because I’d ruin the turnovers.” Everyone’s mouth watered at the word ‘turnovers’.
“Any food you give us is a blessing Ms Nihachu,” Wil replied. “Whether it’s late or not.” Niki giggled at his exaggerated galantry.
“Aww, thank you, Wil.”
Techno snorted, immediately ruining the moment.
“He’s just saying that ‘cause he missed breakfast this mornin’.” Wilbur’s face turned a bright, angry red.
“That’s because you stole my bloody leftovers!”
Niki exchanged a sympathetic glance with Phil and the group remained that way until the door opened on the 30th floor.
The 30th floor was unofficially known as Dream’s floor, mostly due to the significant amount of rooms he used daily. Like most floors in the Heroics Tower it was covered with interconnecting rooms for different heroes to use at their leisure. It was one of the simpler floors with more rooms for meeting and planning than individual offices. Directly down the hall from the elevator was one such meeting room, set up specifically for meetings with heroes not a part of the Dream Team.
The Dream Team, much like the SBI, were a group of heroes that took patrols and missions together, creating a stronger public image and better recognition in the process. Unlike the SBI however, the Dream Team specialized in handling the misuse of enhancements in conflict situations; ie. vigilantes.
“Good morning Dream,” Phil said warmly as they entered the meeting room. Dream was dressed up in his green hooded, knee-length robes accompanied with a stark white mask with a smiley face on it that very few people had seen him without. He nodded at Phil as he walked in and tilted his head towards Techno, who returned the gesture. The two had always been friends and, since joining Three Lives, had a healthy rivalry going on. Wilbur only gave the Dream Team a slight smile; he wasn’t friendly like Phil was nor did he respect the team like Techno did, so awkward smile it was.
Niki walked in last with her treats and set them down on the table with care. The Dream Team’s faces lit up and they all rose from their chairs to stare at the glorious goodies. George, who was always a bit sleepy on account of his enhancement, was last to approach and last to express his gratitude at the gift.
“You’re a lifesaver, Niki,” he said, sweeping his light blue half-cape over his shoulder. “I don’t know how I’d stay awake without your sugar.” Niki laughed in that cute and pleasant way she was famous for and personally handed him a turnover stuffed with whipped cream and strawberry jam.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “But don’t get a sugar crash or I’ll be taking away sugar privileges for at least a week.” George smiled slowly and gave her a tired salute.
“Yes ma’am.”
Niki departed after that, leaving her former colleagues stuffed with sugar and begging her for treats they knew they wouldn’t receive. As soon as she was gone, Phil turned to Dream, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“So, what’s the meeting about?” He asked. Dream turned to another member of his group, Sapnap, and gestured for him to explain. Sapnap, dressed in his black and white monochrome suit lined with red, stepped forward and placed a batch of folders on the flat wooden surface of the table.
“There’s been an uptake in illegal enhancement use in the Esempe,” he began. “These are all separate incidents reported over the last six months.” Techno, Wil and Phil peered over at the folders. They were marked by district number and filled with paper reports of police incidents in the area.
“We were hoping you’d give us a hand by taking one of them on,” Dream continued. “As you can see, it’s a little bit more than we can chew.” Techno snorted softly, sweeping his eyes over the masses of folders littering the desk.
“You can say that again,” he agreed. “You know what’s causin’ it?” Dream shook his head, Sapnap shrugged helplessly and George gave a tired shake of the head. Phil studied the piles of folders with a critical eye. There were at least six different ones, each specifying a different vigilante and which district they’d been tracked to. Most of them were upper district incidents – some kids got just a little too bitter about their lacklustre performance in the hero initiation – but right in the middle of the pack was a particularly fat one labelled ‘District 58’.
It was a glaring outlier when compared to the rest of the cases; a splash of red on a blue canvas. Curious, Phil reached forward and picked it up. As soon as he opened it, a waterfall of papers fell halfway out of the folder.
“Ok,” he began slowly. “These are a lot of incidents.” Dream looked up at the folder he was holding and groaned painfully.
“Oh yeah that one's bad,” he admitted. “We keep getting incident reports but no one has managed to get a proper photo of vigilante activity. They seem to be a trio but there are no leads on who they could possibly be or why they’re out there.” Phil frowned, placing the folder on the table and beginning to leaf through the several reports stuffed inside.
“Do we know their enhancements?” He asked. Dream tilted his head towards George, who was now sitting at the end of the table absentmindedly sifting through the papers in one of the other folders. It took him a moment to realize they were waiting for him but when he did he perked up like he’d just been caught falling asleep in school.
“A Grade C forcefield enhancement and Grade B force blast enhancement for one guy,” he replied. “And a Grade B teleportation enhancement for another. The third’s an unknown element.” Phil hummed his understanding and, pulling out one of the reports, gave it a quick once over. It was dated for that morning, 4:45 am. Within was an outline of five victims, three of whom were concussed and two of which were severely beaten.
“Might be a strength enhancement,” Techno mused from beside him. Phil started and turned around. His sons had gathered behind him and pulled out a few reports of their own to pour over.
“Or just a Grade C or D enhancement,” Wil added. “Useless in a fight.”
“If you wanna take that case,” George began with a sleepy grin. “We’ll be happy to let it go.”
“We know it’s not your speciality or anything,” Dream added. “But it’s a pretty big case and we’ve already got enough on our plate.” Phil looked in between the three men. Sapnap was looking at them with a glint of curiosity in his eyes that belied the posture of apathy he was working hard to maintain. George was still smiling absentmindedly and kept glancing at Phil with a look that clearly said he wanted them to take it. Dream was clearly trying not to show any bias either way but even he couldn’t keep from moving his head slightly to look at Phil.
“We’ll take it,” Phil declared. It had popped out of his mouth before he even realized he was saying it and Wil and Techno glanced around at him so fast he almost heard their necks crack.
“We… will?” Wil asked slowly, giving his father a curious look. Phil could feel his and Techno’s eyes on him as he collected the reports in his son’s hands and shut the folder with an air of finality.
“Yes, we will.”
The Dream Team stared; his sons looked somewhere between aghast and apprehensive. Phil didn’t care; the longer he considered it the more fitting it seemed that he stick to the determination. Hoisting the file into his arms, he looked at Dream and raised an eyebrow.
“Anything else?” He asked. Dream remained silent for a moment, seemingly a little taken aback by Phil’s sudden resolution.
“Uh, well if you want to have a look at any of the other files and give us a hand with those that would be, uh, very much appreciated,” he replied in a bit of confusion. “But that’s a lot of work you’ve got already so I wouldn’t want to impose-”
“I think that’ll be all actually,” Wil interrupted. “We’ve got enough to work with, thanks Dream.” And with that, he grabbed ahold of Phil’s robes and Techno’s cape and practically manhandled the both of them out of the room.
“Why did you just take that?” He whispered sharply to Phil as soon as they were out of earshot from the Dream Team. Phil shrugged and stared down at the file in his hands.
“Not sure,” he replied. “Just had a feeling I should go for it?”
“A feelin’?” Techno asked, frowning curiously. Phil shrugged.
“Yeah, instincts or something like that.” Wil snorted in amusement but the tense line of his shoulders and the way he kept glancing at the file told Phil he wasn’t happy about it – not quite upset, but not happy either. Phil glanced out a window at the pearly white district below them, set with its splendid houses and towering structures. It had been a while since they’d left the flowery bubble of the upper districts, and the 58th would certainly be a shocking change.
“I’m just gonna drop this off at home,” Phil said, as he and his sons walked back into the elevator. “Then we’re going out to the festival like I promised.” He could’ve sworn he heard the process of their minds clicking over from the file to the promise of fun. The Hero Festival was one of the only events that allowed heroes to take time off work, so long as they scheduled time off.
“Can we change first?” Techno asked. “I don’t want to go as a hero. You always get swamped as soon as you step into the crowds.”
“We’ll go in civilian clothes then,” Phil agreed. “Alright with you Wil?” Wil turned to his brother and father and shrugged indifferently.
“Alright,” he replied. “But no spending hours at second-hand bookstalls.” A sly grin spread across Techno’s face as Wil shot him an implying look.
“No promises.”
***
Tommy sidled up against a wall facing into the crowded road of Esempe City, a look of well-practiced innocence on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tubbo darting in and out of the makeshift stalls, searching for a viable victim for some light pickpocketing. Ranboo was somewhere up in the shadows of the roofs, waiting just in case either of them needed a quick getaway but hiding his easily distinguishable black and white skin and hair from onlookers. It was the day of The Hero Festival, and everyone was out and about with their money and possessions, ready to buy anything and everything. In other words, they were perfect victims for petty thieves.
“Tommy?” Tommy almost started as a voice intruded on his subtle observing, pulling his attention from the street to the man standing beside him. He was a tall, broad man with hair dyed forest green and blackened eyes with scarlet irises that always seemed to burn right through you.
“Hey, Sam!” He replied, a little bit too loudly. “What brings you here?” Sam quirked an eyebrow at the question and gestured to the festivities strung out across the city’s main road.
“Hero festival,” he replied blandly. Then pointing to himself. “Ex-hero.”
“Ah,” Tommy said intelligently. “Of course.” Sam was an ex-hero from the Three Lives agency and a genius with technology. He’d accidentally met Tommy and the others a year or so ago when Tubbo had stumbled upon him putting together a communicator for hero work and hadn’t been able to keep himself from asking about it. Since then Sam had become like a tech uncle. They’d never told him outright what they were doing – he was an ex-hero – but he noticed the cuts and bruises enough times to offer them combat lessons. He didn’t know where or how they lived either but anytime they made it past District 30 he was there with the offer of a sandwich he didn’t quite finish that day or a few pieces of change he had leftover. Tommy liked having him around, just not when he was planning to do some pickpocketing. “How’s work been?”
“Good,” Sam replied. “My lab’s finally finished and I’m getting my pick on who my assistants are gonna be.” Tommy nodded several times, trying to signal to Tubbo by the way he was edging back into the crowds that he needed to stop sneaking. Sam followed him into the street, shifting his body suspiciously with every movement.
“What are you doing here Tommy?” He asked. Tommy shrugged as innocently as he could.
“It’s festival day,” he replied. “Just trying to enjoy myself for once.” Sam’s eyes narrowed.
“Not stealing anything are we?” Tommy started and tried his best to look astonished at the very idea, taking a few steps back in what he hoped looked like shock.
“ Sam !” He cried. “Of course not! Why would you suggest such a thing!” Sam hummed sceptically, crossing his broad arms over his chest and setting his shoulders back. The posture instantly made him appear even bigger than he usually looked; even Ranboo looked tiny under what Tommy had dubbed ‘the Awesamdad stance’.
“Where’s Tubbo and Ranboo?” He asked. Tommy looked awkwardly over his shoulder where Tubbo had started to slink into the shadows, trying to escape Sam’s notice.
“Uhhh, around,” Tommy replied slowly. “I lost them pretty much as soon as we got here.” Sam’s burning eyes narrowed suspiciously at the boy and he leant closer as if he were trying to gauge the truth of his statement by studying his face.
“And you’re not worried about them?” He asked slowly.
“Well… yeah,” Tommy replied as casually as possible. “But they’re big boys, they’ll be fine on their own.” Sam hummed again and turned his eyes to the crowded street. It was packed with people browsing about the different stalls with their wares and decorations for the festival. People from all over the city had gathered together in the 20th district to celebrate and even some heroes, dressed in their media-bait costumes, had arrived to boost civilian morale.
“Well, if you see Tubbo,” Sam began. “Tell him I want to talk to him.” Tommy shot him a worried frown.
“Why?” Sam shrugged nonchalantly.
“Just want to ask him a question,” he replied. “It’s nothing bad if you’re worried about that.”
“Alright,” Tommy replied slowly. “I’ll… let him know when I see him.” Sam stared at him with a strange, unreadable expression on his face for a long while, before looking away and stepping out into the crowd.
“Well, I’ll see you later,” he said. Tommy nodded mutely and watched as the ex-hero disappeared into the throng, presumably to look for Tubbo. Tommy sighed in relief and fell back against the brick wall he’d been leaning against before Sam had shown up. Tubbo had long ago slipped out of sight and it appeared Ranboo had followed him, judging by the lack of a hovering, shadowy figure. It didn’t matter though. Tommy was a big man and the best thief of all of them. He’d be just fine on his own.
Case in point, the lanky man wearing a sweater and beanie in the middle of an especially hot autumn day. Grinning to himself, Tommy slipped out from behind his cover and began innocently following behind, stopping to stare at each stall he went past just in case his victim-to-be looked behind. He didn’t, and Tommy gradually moved closer and closer towards him. Pickpocketing had long ago become as easy as breathing and Tommy had, after the daily exercise got monotonous, added an air of theatrics to the whole process, just to make it more fun. His friends didn’t really approve; Tubbo was far more practical and preferred simply getting the job over and done with, and Ranboo was too nervous to do more than teleport in, steal, then immediately teleport away. But Tommy didn’t care, it was just too much fun.
Tripping himself over his own feet, he fell forward into the man, grabbing hold of his yellow sweater as he went down. Tommy grinned as he felt the man fall with him, crying out in surprise. A pair of round glasses flew off his face and the maroon beanie slipped down his head, revealing a curly puff of brown hair. Tommy let out a grunt as he landed half on top of his victim, slipped his hand in and out of his pockets in the confusion.
A heavy wallet, some loose change, a not-cracked phone… How rich was this guy?
A groan came from beneath him as his victim recovered from the fall and the few people who had stopped to see what had happened moved on. Having slipped the stolen things into his pockets, Tommy leapt to his feet with an air of apology and reached down to help him up.
“So sorry,” he huffed out as if he’d just been running. “Didn’t see you there.” The man, smiling pleasantly up at Tommy, took his proffered hand and pulled himself up. If his golden watch inexplicably loosened from around his wrist while he stood, he certainly didn’t notice.
“That’s alright,” he said. “It's just so busy today right?” Tommy laughed loudly and dropped the man’s watch in his back pocket.
“Yeah,” he agreed. The man laughed too and made an admirable attempt to fix his messy hair. His glasses were still lying on the ground and Tommy wondered how much he might be able to get with them. Quickly shaking away the thought – they were too close to his victim’s feet and he’d given him too much time to memorize his face as it was – Tommy waved and stepped back, ready to leave. “Well, I better go. Looking for my friend, you know how it is.” The man didn’t respond. A cold, foreboding feeling ran down Tommy’s spine as he turned his attention back to his victim. His pleasant smile was gone and he was staring, transfixed, at Tommy. Tommy’s heart leapt into his mouth. Had he figured out he'd been stolen from? Was he someone he’d stolen from before?
The man suddenly grabbed his arm, the one with the purple and black bruise growing on it from last night.
“Hey, where’d you get this?” he asked, twisting Tommy's arm to inspect the injury. “Was the fall that bad?” Tommy pulled away but to no avail; the man’s grip on his arm was inhumanly tight. Tommy looked desperately around the crowds, trying to think of a good excuse to get out and run.
“Oh, um, that wasn’t-”
“Wil!” The man’s gaze broke off abruptly at the sound of an unfamiliar voice calling across the crowd. His victim-turned-captor turned towards the voice and smiled, waving whoever they were over. The movement distracted him and the hand holding Tommy’s arm loosened. This was it. Tommy ripped his arm out of the man’s grasp and sprinted down the street. A yell echoed from behind him.
“Hey! Kid!”
And Tommy was gone.
***
Wil turned with a smile to Phil, forgetting for a moment the kid that had run him over a minute ago. Phil was squeezing himself through a tight group of people messing around with some bubble blowers they’d bought at a stall down the street. Outside of his hero costume, Phil looked far too harmless to attract much attention and his mild manners prevented him from being rude enough to push past. He considered for a moment, running over to help him, but then he’d have to leave the kid and-
The kid suddenly tore himself out of Wil’s grip. Wil turned around to find him sprinting into the crowds, so fast he could barely see the bob of blonde hair moving amongst the throng of people.
“Hey!” He yelled. “Kid!” The kid didn’t respond; simply disappeared into the swarm like a black cat into a spot of shadow.
“Who was that?” Asked Phil from beside him. Biting his lip, Wil turned towards his father and shrugged uneasily.
“Dunno,” he replied, glancing back into the crowd the kid had disappeared into. “Just some kid who tripped me over.”
“Oh.” Phil glanced around, probably searching for the kid. “Was he alright?”
“He had a bruise on his arm but I don’t think it was from the fall,” Wil answered. “I was gonna ask about it but…” Phil patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“It’s alright, I’m sure he’s fine,” he said in his soothing paternal way. Wil shuffled uncomfortably but allowed himself to be pulled back the way they’d come where Techno was still inevitably lurking. “Why’d you run off like that by the way? I thought we agreed to stick together.”
“I got sick of waiting for Techno to read everything,” Wil replied, rolling his eyes. “Why’d you leave him?”
“Came to find you,” Phil replied. “Techno’s at a bookstall anyway so I’m sure he’ll be alright while I’m gone.” They had just squeezed past the bubble blower group when his eyes suddenly caught on Wil’s wrist and a frown appeared on his face. “Wil, where’s your watch?”
“Huh?” Wil glanced down at his wrist where his watch usually sat. It was gone. Heart leaping into his throat, he pushed his hands into his pockets. They were empty. His wallet, his phone, his change from the festival, it was all gone. When he looked up again, Phil was smiling in amusement.
“Hey!” Wil yelled, blushing a little. “This is not funny!” Phil smiled wider and ducked his head in a poor attempt to hide it.
“Sorry mate,” he apologized, still smiling. “But it’s just a little bit funny that you didn’t notice you got pickpocketed.” Wil crossed his arms and bit the inside of his red cheeks. Phil chuckled and ruffled his already messy hair. “It’s ok, I know you were just worried about the kid.” Wil huffed and leant into his father’s hand.
“Well at least Techno isn’t here,” he grumbled.
“What about me?” Wil started and swivelled around to find his twin standing behind him, clutching a chin-high pile of books in his combat-scarred hands.
“Nothing,” Wil hurriedly replied. “We were just-”
“Wil got pickpocketed,” Phil interrupted with a mischievous grin. Wil shot a poisonous glare in his direction. Techno tilted his head and frowned like he was bemused, but the slight tilt to his mouth bespoke a different attitude
“Really?” He asked. “By who?” Phil turned to Wil, raising an eyebrow, jerking his head in Technoblade’s direction. Wil let out a long, defeated sigh.
“Some kid ran into me and tripped me over,” he grumbled. Technoblade stood in silence for a moment, then burst out laughing in his baritone, chuckling way. Wil, wilting under the teasing, glared at the ground. “Shut up Techno, I thought it was an accident.” Phil patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“S’alright mate,” he replied in his softest voice. “He probably just needs the money, it’s not like you’re particularly lacking.” Wil bit the inside of his flushed cheek. He couldn’t help admitting that was true. Being a hero paid the bills.
“Maybe but-” He sighed and kicked a rock across the crowded road, accidentally hitting the heel of several people’s shoes in the process. “Whatever, let's just go home.” Phil shared a look with Technoblade and they both nodded.
“Alright mate,” Phil agreed. “Let’s go home.”
***
Tommy spent the rest of the day at a pawnshop, bargaining for the best price on the watch and other knick-knacks he’d collected throughout the day. He kept the phone for Tubbo to try his hand at cracking the passcode and transforming it into something they could use. With the money gleaned from that transaction and the spare change he’d found in the man’s wallet – plus the stuff they’d stolen last night – they were well set for at least a month; maybe more if they saved it instead of shilling out on something big, as they were wont to do if not properly restrained.
When he arrived on the roof of their apartment building – their official meeting place after a day of petty thievery – he found Ranboo and Tubbo already there, whispering with their heads close together. As he approached his friends and their close whispers grew more audible, Tommy rolled his eyes and called out.
“Are you two doing the marriage bit again? ‘Cause if you are, I'm leaving!” The two greeted his appearance with smiles on their faces, although Tubbo’s was significantly more nervous and uncertain than Ranboo’s, which was a change from the norm.
“Tommy!” Ranboo called back. “Come here quick! Tubbo’s got something important!”
“‘S not really,” Tubbo mumbled to no one in particular as Tommy rushed to their side, grinning in anticipation.
“What is it? What’s going on Tubs?” Tommy asked, coming to sit on the ledge in between the two of them. Tubbo was holding a piece of paper in both hands and staring into the dark streets like he was expecting to find something lurking in the void that would carry him away from the current conversation. As soon as Tommy was by his side, he passed the paper to him and clenched his hands tightly in his lap. Curious and full of butterflies, Tommy read the words laid out on the paper.
Offer of employment.
Three Lives Agency is pleased to offer you a position as a lab assistant in the new technology and science sector of the Three Lives Development Tower under the supervision of the retired hero Awesamdude.
Should you accept, you will be expected to submit your identification at the front desk of the Development Tower at 0900 Monday next week.
Sincerely, Three Lives Science and Development Department
Tommy turned to Tubbo, a wide grin on his face, and shook his shoulder with excitement.
“Tubbo, this is amazing!” He cried. “You love working with tech!” Tubbo didn’t respond, only slumped forward a little and sat unnervingly still. Tommy glanced at Ranboo who grimaced and gestured towards their friend with an imploring expression on his face. Tommy turned back to Tubbo and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder, letting the form in his other hand fall to his lap. “What’s the matter?” When Tubbo looked up, there were tears in his eyes.
“Tommy,” he choked. “There’s no way I can go work there.” Tommy frowned, taken aback.
“What do you mean? Of course you can.”
“No, I can’t Tommy,” Tubbo replied in a choked voice. “I don’t have any of the proper paperwork. We ran away from the foster system, remember? We’re legally missing children and it’s not like I ever got a full formal education.” Tommy’s frown deepened.
“Well that’s alright, we can just forge some papers for you to use.”
“ No Tommy!” Tubbo was yelling now; Ranboo was beginning to shift uncomfortably under the tension hanging in the air. “Don’t you know how rigorously Three Lives researches their employees? They’d see right through any forged paperwork after one background check!” Letting out a choked sob, Tubbo buried his face in his hands and groaned long and loud.
“Well it doesn’t have to be us,” Tommy persisted, careful not to talk too loud and set Tubbo off again. “We can hire someone to forge it really well so even Three Lives won’t see through it.”
“That’s what I was just telling him,” Ranboo cut in helpfully, a hopeful smile on his anxious face. “I thought we could ask Big Q or someone like that. He’s really good at that stuff.”
“Yeah!” Tommy agreed, happy to have some solid plan to present to his increasingly distraught best friend. “I stole from this super-rich guy today too, we've got more than enough to pay for it and still keep some extra for rent and food and stuff.” Tubbo sniffed and rubbed his watery eyes with the heels of his hands.
“I dunno,” he mumbled. “Maybe it’s too ambitious.”
“No way!” Tommy and Ranboo protested at the same time. Tubbo looked up at them in surprise, his eyes a little red from being rubbed and his palms still set at an angle towards his face in a manner that made him look almost silly.
“You’re too smart to be stealing for the rest of your life Bee,” Ranboo continued, placing a hand on his other shoulder. “Consider the forged papers an investment. Three Lives pays well enough to buy us all identities and then some.” Tubbo cracked a smile at that.
“Alright,” he mumbled. “We’ll give it a try.” Ranboo and Tommy let out a whoop of victory and high fived. “But,” Tubbo cut in, interrupting their excitement. “If this goes wrong, I call first dibs on food choice for a month.” Tommy and Ranboo exchanged a look, nodded in mutual agreement then turned back to Tubbo.
“Deal!”