Chapter Text
Money was always a problem in the average Tommy Innit household. Having to switch from job to job, or just straight up not having one was a major cash burner. He was also having problems affording medical supplies due to his unfortunate (and illegal) crime-fighting hobby (oops).
That’s why this job was so important.
Tubbo said, “Tommy you’ll get caught!” or “Tommy you’re an idiot for thinking this won’t have any repercussions.” When the blonde had told his roommate about the position. Boy was he wrong when Tommy did not give his super-secret identity away and started making enough money to actually feed himself. Plus, free food at the hero tower!
(Yes, he chose a job at the hero tower. Was it supposed to be a joke? Yes. Did he get the job accidentally? Yes. Did he regret it? Well-)
Maybe the injuries were a slight problem, especially when the people giving them to you were either of your three bosses. Truthfully, it was a big problem.
Tommy was terrified of them finding out. Not only would they arrest him or possibly kill him, but they knew where his apartment was… where Tubbo was. The boy would certainly be arrested for keeping a vigilante in the home, not to mention helping one.
Guilt tied his stomach into knots as his fingers pattered against the keys on the keyboard.
He managed to sign off a handful of documents and organize a couple of interviews earlier in the day. This was the kind of day where literally nothing happens.
No one got cancelled on Twitter, nothing broke into the hero tower and there wasn’t even a threat to his identity!
“I think your shift is over, mate,” A voice interrupted, peering at Tommy.
He checked the time at the bottom of the screen. “Oh, you’re right. I guess I should get going.” Tommy realized, quickly logging out of the laptop and closing it. Pushing his feet against the floor, he stood up and tucked his chair in. The blonde began walking over to the elevator before pausing, a memory crawling up his shoulder. “You have a meeting tomorrow before I forget.”
The man groaned at the reminder. “Fuck, I hate this job. Why can’t I just fight crime and sleep?”
“Bye, Phil,” Tommy chuckled, waving at him as the elevator doors trapped him in.
Quiet. Just terrible, boring silence. The elevator had no music whatsoever. The least they could do was put some giddy little tune on.
He was itching to just do something.
____________
Wind filtered past his body, carrying him across rooftops.
He felt alive.
This was definitely doing something.
Assistant jobs were fun and made a decent amount of money but, whatever. Tommy knew he belonged here. He was made for leaping across the city, barren of rules and free to take down whoever he wanted.
Red, seething powers flowed into his hands while he boosted himself to jump higher. He liked to be absolutely positive he would not fall from a stupid mistake.
So far, he had stopped two muggings and one lousy attempt at robbery. This night was good. He was injury free and oddly giddy about the way he could just run atop buildings.
Tubbo proved to be busy, so he was not blabbering in his ear like usual. It was oddly eerie without hearing his friend’s alerts or random quips. Still, even lacking the boy, Tommy had an average amount of fun and felt like he could patrol all night.
Although… it was getting windy, and the clouds seemed like they were getting dark. The blonde figured it would be best if he started to head home. Then, much to his dismay, water dripped on his arm, soaking into his hoodie. Then his head, and soon, pellets of water were pummelling all over his body. Fucking, Prime.
Waving the all-night patrol goodbye, he studied the raging sky, hand sheltering his eyes. He never had very good ideas but for once in his life, the rush home seemed ever more prominent. He never valued getting soaking wet in the rain.
Tommy was carefully watching his footsteps to make sure he didn’t slip while he ran back to his apartment. He must have been so incredibly focused he didn’t hear anyone drop in front of him and-
Bang
Eye screaming with pain, he recoiled back to hold his masked face. He hissed, slowly drawing his palm away from his probably bruised eye. Tearing his gaze away from his hand, he shot up, breath faltering at the sight of Siren looming at him with a challenging stare.
Ah…
So much for an injury-free night.
Tommy decidedly ignored the pain, keeping his hands at his side while sparks of red swirled at the expense of his fingertips.
Siren had a fucking pipe. Where the hell do you even find a metal pipe lying around?
“ Turn yourself in and surren- “ Siren tried to command, voice honeyed, before Tommy quickly tapped a button on his suit designed by the one and only, Tubbo.
The silence built a wall around his ears, protecting him from whatever thing Wilbur was going to make him do. Once he was sure the man had stopped talking, the button was pushed again and the overwhelming sound of rain and busy streets washed over him.
Background noise was the only thing filling the awkward pause.
“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Siren chided, gripping the pipe and getting ready to swing.
Tommy started to ready himself as well, powers gathering at his hands, free to his manipulation again.
With practiced ease, the blonde sent the metal pipe flying out of Wilbur’s hand and across the rooftop. He shuddered at the way Siren seemed to have expected that and wasn’t backing down.
Footsteps, at a threatening pace, were promptly moving toward him.
As the two collided, nasty hits were shared. Tommy couldn’t really do anything with his powers except choke the man or send him flying off the roof, which was not an option. Wilbur was his friend after all.
He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if any real damage had been done.
They fought like cats, clawing and scratching at one another. The blonde had gotten a good punch on Wilbur’s side and grimaced at the man’s uncomfortable expression. Tommy managed to tackle him, dragging both of them, with Tommy on top, onto the other side of the roof. Alarmingly, his face experienced a blinding jolt of pain.
Siren had punched him in the nose, hard.
Moisture dripped down the front of his face, soaking into his mask. Just as he began to gain his vision back, a strong force whacked him in the stomach, and sent him scraping his body against the concrete, nearing the edge of the roof.
All he could see was white seething pain, unsure if he let out a scream or not. A sickening feeling to throw up rose in his gut as he attempted to breathe. Gasping and clutching his stomach, Tommy gripped the bottom of his mask and pulled it just over his lips, freeing his mouth.
He hunched over, spitting out the metallic taste that blinded his tastebuds. Crimson blood was splattered beneath him from his spit and more didn’t hesitate to join, dripping directly from his nose.
The familiar feeling of fear drenched his body and he whimpered, crawling backwards with an arm stretched out in front of him to try to pass himself as a threat while he crouched helplessly on the ground. Or maybe it was a plea to finally grant Tommy some kind of mercy.
The red sparks that previously swirled around his hand only moments ago were gone and he was left utterly helpless.
“Sto-“ The blonde began before his voice broke, his out-of-breath lungs saving him from speaking. No one could know what his voice sounded like but all he wanted to do was beg, beg Wilbur not to kill him.
When Tommy hesitantly raised his head, Siren was stood above him, pipe limp in his hand. It looked threatening until the blonde could see the horror on Wilbur’s face.
“ Oh, Prime … I did not mean to hit you that hard. You- you need to get to a doctor or something, shit.” He panicked, dropping the metal weapon completely.
And oh…
Did he really look that bad? Did Wilbur actually care?
With searing hot pain, Tommy tried to rise up to his feet, nausea having him by the throat. He was so out of it, so impossibly delusional he must have not noticed how close the edge of the rooftop was. Stepping back, he wanted to distance himself from the danger but nothing was there to walk back on. He was putting his weight on thin, invisible air.
Stomach completely dropping out of his body, he plummeted, arms flailing at the sudden movement.
This is what he had been avoiding all night and here he was, letting a stupid mistake take him to his deathbed.
The blonde saw Siren react, sprinting over to try and catch the boy but he was too late.
Tommy fell.
______________
Muffled sounds clouded his foggy brain, pulling him out of blissful sleep. Just for a moment, he believed he was back home in the safety of his apartment.
Only, the ground was too rough to be a bed.
Opening his eyes with a gasp, Tommy felt the familiar feeling of a mask covering his face though his mouth was not protected by the fabric.
He let his body still, trying to analyze what was happening. It looked like he was lying in some sort of alleyway. Siren was hovering over his face, on the phone with someone.
“Phil, he’s- I think he’s unconscious or- or dead. Fuck, I hope he’s not dead,” The brunette trembled.
Philza Minecraft: the one and only man ever.
Fuck, Tommy was going to get captured wasn’t he…?
Power surging in his palm, Tommy discreetly let it gather. Because of his mask, no one was able to see that he was awake and responsive.
Suddenly, the blonde whipped his hand up and flung the phone out of Wilbur's fingers.
Sorry, Phil.
He wasted no time, throwing him and holding him by the neck against the alley wall while Tommy stood up, running on pure adrenaline.
Being captured was not an option to him.
At this moment, it was not Wilbur. It was Siren.
Siren struggled while his feet lost contact with the ground. It was obvious the action caught him by surprise.
Tommy’s hands were shaking and he felt a wet substance that covered the back of his head.
Hopefully, that wasn’t blood.
Siren clawed at his neck, attempting to rid of whatever force that was constricting his airway.
The blonde waited until he saw the struggle Siren had whilst trying to keep his eyes open and immediately dropped him.
Siren crumpled to the ground- no... Wilbur crumpled to the ground.
Breathing was becoming more difficult the longer Tommy let himself stand still.
He was so scared.
And fuck…
He had just strangled Wilbur without hesitation.
Was he scared of Wilbur, or himself?
Ignoring the dizzy feeling that muddled his brain, he tried to compose himself.
He couldn’t bring himself to stare at the limp man on the ground any longer.
Phil was still on the phone.
Pulling his mask back down, Tommy analyzed the alleyway.
It was pretty far from his apartment but he couldn’t stand to smell the nauseous stench of blood.
His blood…
His blood.
Oh, Prime.
Tommy finally started to gather the state of his body. He reached behind to feel the back of his head. Red was smeared like paint across his retracted fingers.
As he tried to calm the anxious feeling that tossed his stomach around, his abdomen started to ache.
Well fuck. He probably had vital organ damage.
Grimacing and swallowing back the pain, the blonde moved as quickly as possible. Not only would Phil be getting here to retrieve his son, but Tommy felt like he was about to die.
He choked back a sob and powered through the gruelling, lengthy walk.
Spots started to cloud his vision.
All he remembered was blacking out as soon as the dingy but familiar smell of his apartment took over his senses and briefly heard Tubbo scream.
________________
Everyone knows the moment when you wake up and everything is just… nice.
The brief moment of bliss pulls you into a false sense of security.
His bed was so comfortable, he could just melt.
Then it hit Tommy like a truck.
Eyes refusing to open, he felt his body ache. His face scrunched up in pain.
Someone was touching him, and he didn’t like it. Tommy flailed his arms, attempting to get the person off of him.
“Tommy-“
“Toms.”
The voice seemed so familiar…
“Stop- stop it, Tommy. It’s okay- Tommy please.” The voice begged.
Trying to open his eyes, the blonde peered just enough to see a flash of brown hair. His first thought was Wilbur, then it was run.
It was like the water that previously clogged his hearing dissipated, and his thoughts had a chance to clear.
Tubbo.
Oh thank Prime, it was Tubbo.
He could not handle talking to Wilbur right about now.
“There just- just stay still,” Tubbo uttered, patching up a cut on his arm.
The brunet seemed to realize his eyes were open.
“Hey, you fucking idiot,” He deadpanned, glaring at Tommy.
The blonde groaned, trying to smother himself with a pillow. He mumbled something as he reached out.
Tubbo didn’t even need to hear him as he spun around and handed him a glass of water. Tommy blinked gratefully, letting the cold glass of heaven fill his dry mouth.
The two sat in silence, not uncomfortable, nor comfortable.
“I don’t babysit you on patrol for one day and you manage this.”
Tommy broke the eye contact. Tubbo frowned, studying him.
“Tommy…what happened?”
“I’m a fucking monster, Tubbo,” The blonde forced out, a ball forming in his throat.
“Don’t say that. You’re not- you’re not, Tom.”
“Yes, I fucking am!! I hurt him- I couldn’t- I didn’t want to, but I did,” He snapped.
“Who?” Tubbo demanded. It wasn’t a question.
“Will- it- it was Wilbur. I fuckin- I- I was so scared.”
“Was he worse off than you? Did you hurt him that bad?”
Tommy paused, gathering a shaky breath.
“I…I don’t know. No?” He muttered, finally meeting Tubbo’s eyes again.
“You have a cracked rib cage, broken nose, concussion, and a bruised stomach. Not to mention the plethora of cuts you never had before. Did you hurt him that bad, Tommy?”
“Well, no…but I- I choked him,” The blonde admitted, playing with the duvet.
“ Tommy, you were protecting yourself. You’re sixteen .”
The dam broke and Tommy let himself drown in it.
Choked sobs rippled through his chest as he doubled over. The brunette’s face crumpled as he grabbed the boy into a hug.
Tommy sat in his mouldy apartment, crying until his chest closed up and the thought of passing out seemed better than staying awake.
______________
Wilbur picked up his cracked phone after he regained his breath.
“Well, he was definitely still alive,” He rasped out, still holding his throat.