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= 1 =
Tommy was clumsy.
If he believed in curses that would be his. Tripping on his shoelaces and not being able to hold on tightly to glass objects was part of his charisma. It could be embarrassing, frustrating, but mostly it was humorous. Because for now, the clumsiness didn’t lead to any danger, other than a few scraped knees.
Which were now covered in a few band-aids he put on and tends to color on during long classes.
Tommy was part of the Hero Training Unit for the city. He was orphaned, but soon after his powers were found out he was eligible to be a superhero. So of course Tommy joined, he sat in the classes and scribbled notes in his notebook, not that they were comprehensible but he truly thought he was learning. He thinks he has an overly-intelligent brain for an eight year-old, that is part of his charisma too.
The only problem was that his power sucked. He had wings but he couldn’t fly. He could float. Fall slowly if you will. It wasn’t helpful in the slightest, he was better off with no powers at all. He tried to make the best out of them, trying to find the advantages, but it didn’t look like there were any.
But Tommy really wanted to help people. Especially fighting against the bad guys, villains. That would make him a real badass.
Like Wilbur, he’s never met the guy but his picture is everywhere in the Hall of Heroes. He’s practically a God, not that he would admit that to the surely egotistical son of a bitch. But his powers, invisibility and the ability to walk through walls, were so cool. He probably worked everyday, saving lives and everything.
The rules were that you couldn’t join the force that works in the city until you graduate training. Yet, Tommy was bored and he’s only a year in, he can’t possibly wait that long.
Tommy fixed his self-made suit in the mirror smiling with gapped-teeth as he threw a few punches. He didn’t need weapons, he decided, he was strong enough. The villains would probably flee at the sight of him actually.
He turned, flapping his wings slightly. They were stubby and small, not at all like Phil’s wings. Phil was one of his instructors at the school, he had the most magnificent wings; larger than Tommy’s whole form and as black as the night. Tommy frowned, he hoped his wings grew, that way he could fly and be more useful.
Tommy left his flat, searching everywhere for trouble, for a sneaky villain trying to cause chaos.
For hours he looked down alleyways and abandoned buildings. He anticipated someone to come along and graffiti the walls or push an old lady into the street but he saw none of the sort.
His stomach began to grumble as the sun disappeared under the horizon so he told the streets he had an eye on them and entered a subway shop.
No one else was in the store when he entered, the cashier even seemed to be back in the kitchen. Tommy felt something skitter across the hairs on the back of his neck as he stood alone.
Suddenly something crashed through the wall of the store, rubble flying in every direction and a large slab of brick slid right to his feet. Not something, someone. A man lay seemingly unconscious in front of him. Black hair splayed on the crumpled concrete and his body jammed in an awkward position.
Tommy backed up a step, his gaze going straight for the hole in the wall but it was crowded with dust, nothing visible past the threshold. Blood trickled by his feet from the man’s head. A gun was held in his holster at his waist, Tommy didn’t think twice before grabbing it.
He then backed up more, holding out infront of him shakily. Tommy’s never used a gun before.
He just stared at the man on the floor as his eyes pried open. They glowed with a fire that sent Tommy’s blood boiling. Turning his whole body on fire, his breaths quickening. Then the villain's face twisted in confusion, looking Tommy up and down.
He leaned up from the ground, bracing himself with an arm. “Gods, they’re using kids now?” He grumbled underneath his breath.
He then raised his arm, something red glowing in the palm of his hand. Then what seemed like flames shot at Tommy, his breath caught on whatever he was seeing. The fire hit his hands, causing Tommy to drop the gun. The fire burned, Tommy groaned in pain as he tried to shake the flames away.
He heard laughing coming from the villain, and Tommy’s eyes went wide. The man was standing now, smiling, and his body went up in flames. Entirely engulfed in fire, but it didn’t look like it hurt, he just reveled in the strength it fed him.
Tommy backed up until he hit the wall, sweat trickling down his forehead and his hands numb.
The man walked towards him, he stepped on the gun lying in the mess of rubble and it melted under his foot. Tommy gasped, looking anywhere for a place to run, to escape. His eyes caught on someone emerging from the smoky hole in the wall. A bloody hand gripping the drywall.
It was Wilbur. He was drenched with who knows what and blood trickled down the side of his head. He was wiping at his mouth when he spotted him, both of them. His eyes were impossibly dark and the smile Tommy always saw in the Hall of Heroes wasn’t there.
“Hey! Sapnap come here and finish our fight,” He spit, reaching for the gun in his holster. Tommy’s chest was heaving, body shaking underneath the heat radiating off Sapnap just a few steps away.
Sapnap turned slightly, raising his eyebrows at Wilbur’s appearance. Taking this opportunity Tommy leaned down and grabbed a piece of rubble in his hands. He noticed how red his hands were, skin blistered and bleeding.
“I'm good,” Tommy froze, “I found someone I’d rather watch burn,” He could hear the smile in Sapnap’s words.
Tommy stood, sliding to the side when Sapnap spun back around. His eyes narrowed on the concrete in his hands. Tommy panicked, throwing the rubble at the man’s face. Sapnap swayed, groaning slightly.
He ran towards Wilbur who had his hand outreaching for him, a small smile on his face. Tommy rushed behind him and Wilburs arm kept him there protectively. Tommy barely reached his ribs, so he reached to grab ahold of his arm to pull it down so he could see.
“Dream wouldn’t be happy you're going after kids,” Wilbur said, and he swore he saw Sapnaps flames grow higher.
“I don’t answer to him,” He grunted in response. He did that thing where his palms went red again, and Tommy ducked behind Wilbur. Closing his eyes and holding on tight to the fabric of his shirt.
Multiple shots went off, even Tommy could feel the force of the gun in Wilbur’s hands. He didn’t check if Sapnap was dead because if anything the room got even hotter.
“You’re just a mutt, now run back to Dream and get out of my city,” Wilbur taunted, and Tommy could see the rising flames from where he stood behind him. He realized Wilbur’s plan now, and he watched the fire sprinklers on the ceiling.
Sapnap yelled, and the flames spread across the floor. It engulfed the rubble and all of the linoleum. Tommy panicked but Wilbur leaned down, helping Tommy onto his back to be safe from the fire. Apparently Wilbur was immune to it, or maybe whatever he was drenched in was fire retardant. Tommy wrapped his hands around Wilburs neck, resting his chin on his shoulder and watched the sight in front of him.
Sapnap crumpled to the ground and the flames reached the ceiling, the fire sprinklers went off. Water sprayed from above and Tommy closed his eyes, the room quickly filled with smoke.
Wilbur began to move, and Tommy heard the bell of the shop ring. The cool air of the night surrounded him, and as Tommy opened his eyes he observed it was night, and the streets were clear.
Wilbur walked them across the street and then set Tommy down. He leaned down in front of Tommy, setting his hands on his shoulders and looking him up and down.
“You okay?” He asked softly, looking back to Tommy’s eyes.
Tommy didn’t respond, looking back to the store that had smoke escaping the top of it and through the doors.
“Hey, he won’t bother you again okay? He’s just an angry dickwad,” He laughed, clearing his wet hair from his eyes.
“Dickwad,” Tommy agreed, chuckling. Wilbur smiled, removing his hands from Tommy. His eyes dipped to Tommy’s own hands, eyebrows falling.
“Your hands,” He stated and Tommy looked down, he had almost forgotten.
“It's okay,” He shook his head, trying to move his fingers. He winced in pain, the skin stretching agonizingly. Wilbur tilted his head.
“What are you doing out here all alone?” Wilbur questioned.
Tommy hummed, slightly embarrassed now in front of his hero, “Saving the city of course,”
“Ah,” Wilbur leaned back, scrunching his nose, “but that’s my job,”
Tommy intertwined his fingers, and shrugged, “Mine too?”
“Hm,” Wilbur thought, then he looked over his shoulder, “hey, I didn’t didn’t see those before,” He pointed weakly at his wings, “You can fly?” He asked, his mouth open in an adoring smile.
“No not really,” Tommy swayed, he walked to the edge of the sidewalk and jumped off onto the street shoulder. “I can float,” Tommy said slightly saddeningly.
“Hey that’s cool,” Wilbur mused. Tommy looked up at him with unimpressed eyes.
“Really! Just wait a couple more years and you can be out here doing what I do!” He nodded, sitting down on the pavement.
Tommy crossed his arms, he didn’t need another person telling him that he needed to wait. But this was Wilbur. “Can you do the thing?” He switched the subject, rocking on his feet excitedly.
“What?” Wilbur asked and then immediately went invisible, “this thing?” Wilbur spoke but he wasn’t there.
“Wow!” Tommy giggled. Wilbur came back into view, resting his face on his hands.
“So, Float, you are going to stay out of trouble?” He implored, raising his eyebrows.
“First of all, don’t call me that,” Tommy narrowed his eyes but he doubt it looked anything like Wilbur’s menacing look, “and two, that's not really my thing,”
“No? Then I'll just have to save your ass again,” Wilbur rolled his eyes, sighing lightheartedly.
“I thought that’s what you do?” Tommy mocked openly.
“Careful,” Wilbur warned, “just stay safe, yeah? Don’t go looking for guys with fire powers and anger issues,” He breathed, “save that for when you graduate,”
“Mhm,” Tommy hummed, dismissing Wilbur’s words in his mind. Then he hesitated. “Sapnap, is he dead?”
Wilbur stood, “Nah, Sapnap doesn’t die, he’s…protected by a Villian group that would bring the whole city down if we killed him,” He answered, he cracked his knuckles in ignored frustration.
“Oh,” Tommy said simply.
“Don’t worry about that though, you’ve still got many years until you have to care about stuff like that.” He patted Tommy on the shoulder, “it’s getting late, you should get back home,”
Tommy nodded, smiling, “thanks,”
“See you around Float,” Wilbur wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared into the night.
Tommy stood there for a moment, not sure Wilbur was really gone.
And as he walked home, he wasn’t sure Wilbur wasn’t walking alongside him either.
= 2 =
Tommy didn’t see Wilbur until three years later.
Tommy didn’t leave the school much, hoping foolishly that if he studied all day and everyday the time of his graduation would come sooner. Sure he kept up with recent news of famous villains and the scandals but he never intervened.
He’s only gotten more and more restless about going out and being a hero. Not even for the fame, just for the feeling of being free, the fulfillingness that comes with saving people. Also his hatred for those who terrorize the city grew each day as he was reminded every second of the day of his burn scars on his hands.
He sometimes saw Wilbur, on the news or talking to Phil, apparently they were close. But he’s never said a word to him, vice versa.
He didn’t mind, he was focused on his studies and his training. He met friends and enemies, he was living; he just felt like he could do so much more.
He did listen to Wilbur by not going out and looking for trouble but that didn’t mean trouble couldn’t find him.
Tommy walked home tiredly, if only his wings would grow he could be to and from destinations in a minute. He sighed outwardly, still useless. His wings were now tucked under his winter coat as he kicked pebbles down the road, ignoring the city life around him, or, lack thereof. Voices began to dwindle around him, he was still on the route to his house but for some reason the streets were empty.
He looked up, growing uneasy in the odd atmosphere. That's when sirens rang out, echoing harshly off the buildings. An ambulance thundered down the street straight towards him, it seemed out of control, rolling with certainly illegal speeds; even for an emergency vehicle. Tommy jumped into an alleyway as the car sped past him, one wheel elevated on the pavement.
Tommy peeked down where it was headed, he didn’t see anything alarming. The sirens eventually died out, and Tommy was left back in the silent alley.
He recognized where he was, the alley was actually a short cut. Even if it looked a little sketchy, and dark…and dangerous. But he was a hero in training, what could go wrong?
He started down the alley, he could see the exit ahead of him. That was before two figures emerged out of the shadows. Tommy’s pace slowed, he squinted before the figures stepped into the light and revealed two people, a man and a woman.
They swung weapons in their hands, and not the conventional type, maces and knives. Tommy took a step back, coming in contact with another person. Their hands skidded across his shoulders. Tommy swallowed as the person’s breath was hot on his neck.
Their fingers padded across the collar of his coat, grabbing it and pulling it off his back slowly. “Seems like we've got a hero on our hands,” The man sang behind him with a deathly foul breath.
The other two stalked closer, laughing with yellow teeth and eyes like snakes.
Tommy didn’t have any weapons, he realized, trembling against the hands on his wings. “Very nice,” The man growled, and Tommy shivered.
A laugh rang out, each one echoing like a pack of wolves howling. Tommy turned and threw his fists at the man's face before stumbling, his feet failing to carry him away. He was able to run a few steps but not fast enough. Before he could make it away from the three of them he was captured by the woman. A knife now at his throat and arm around his midriff.
“Let me go,” Tommy said, staring down at the man that was holding him before. He was holding on to his white feathers, twirling it in his fingers.
“I don’t think so boy,” He snapped, and Tommy’s pulse quickened. The man neared, walking with a sway, he drew a gun from his belt.
A creaking came from above them. Something purely metal, scratching against Tommy’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. Tommy leaned his head back away from the knife, looking up to the building’s above them. Something was leaning, and leaning, and leaning. And then it fell.
Tommy pushed back against the woman, trying to get out of the way, but she kept still.
Tommy watched as the large vent from the building fell, it landed right on one of the men. Tommy heard the crack of bones and the muffled scream. Blood sprayed right into Tommy’s face, slowly trickling down past his lips. Tommy didn’t move. Tommy couldn’t think, his breathing halted as he stared.
Bile rose into his throat as the people around him panicked. The woman holding him loosened her grip just enough for Tommy to slip through. He was going to run, he was, but he was stuck in place.
Gunfire replaced the sound of shouts of dismay. And Tommy fell back against the wall of the alley, hiding from whoever was here.
“Stay away from him,” A voice rang, dangerously protective and Tommy opened his eyes. It was Wilbur walking down the alleyway, he was the one who tipped the vent and he was the one who was saving him now. Or, as Tommy looked back at the man in front of him, he looked down the barrel of a gun.
“Or what?” He responded, unamused and confident. Then a few more gunshots escaped Wilbur’s gun and the woman next to Tommy fell to the ground. He didn’t look at her, he didn’t want to see where the blood would puddle around her head.
The man froze for a moment, but Tommy could see the anger building in him. And Tommy was on the wrong side of a gun.
Wilbur stopped by a dumpster, running his hand along the top of a piece of scrap metal. His eyes were warning.
A sigh escaped the man in front of him. Around him lay his two friends dead, of course it would make sense for him to shoot.
Tommy ducked his head against his shoulder as the sound of his gun registered, but it didn’t hit him. No, the bullet hit the piece of metal Wilbur threw in front of him. As soon as it fell to the ground, clinking against the pavement with a bullet dent in it, Tommy picked it up. He held it up as another shot was fired, Tommy’s hands shook as they kept coming.
Then they stopped. The man was forced to the ground with a grunt. Wilbur on top of him with a gun to his head.
The gun skidded across the road to him, and Tommy kicked it away.
But Wilbur didn’t shoot, he leaned away, and said something else that Tommy couldn’t hear because he was pretty sure his ears were ringing.
The man got up and walked away without another glance at Tommy.
Wilbur barely let out a sigh before he was in front of him, helping him off the ground. Tommy breaths were quick as he looked up to him, and Wilbur almost looked sorry.
“I-” He began, “Are you okay?”
Tommy swallowed and nodded, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why Wilbur looked guilty and Tommy had a feeling it had something to do with him. So he swung his arms around the Hero and hugged him. He nuzzled his head into the man, relishing in the human affection he wasn’t used to.
A hand found his way into his curls and another one around his back. Wilbur was warm, Tommy noticed, he was comforting in a way that made Tommy want to fall to the ground and let his stress out in sobs. But he wasn’t going to do that, he was just going to squeeze tightly and smile in the way Wilbur squeezed back.
“I'm sorry, Float,” He apologized quietly. This time Tommy didn’t bristle at the nickname, he hadn’t heard it in so long he actually found it soothing.
“For what?” Tommy asked, and Wilbur pulled back. He frowned, eyebrows dipping at Tommy’s face.
“For this,” He said with gritted teeth, chastising himself. He wiped at Tommy’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheeks and chin. His finger was growing red with blood. “And for that fucker being able to get so close to you, and-”
“It's fine Wilbur,” Tommy insisted, “i'm not your responsibility,”
Wilbur stepped back like he was physically hurt. “I know, I-” His voice died out.
“Besides I’ve seen blood before,” He said, hoping it would make it better. Yet, by the way Wilbur stayed quiet, he didn’t think it did. “No, but thanks for looking out for me,”
“Of course, I think it’s kinda an obligation now,”
“Yeah?"
“Yeah,” he chuckled with a sloppy smile, “if you are going to keep indulging in near-death experiences,”
“I mean if that’s what It takes to see you,” Tommy said, and he did not mean to seem that clingy. Wilbur was already getting that fond look in his eyes.
“Not that I like seeing you dickhead,” Tommy scoffed, pushing Wilbur on the shoulder as he walked down the alley. Wilbur’s laugh echoed behind him, and he realized he missed it.
“I’m just saying I haven’t seen you in three years,” He clarified as Wilbur joined him by his side. “And you just show up, like you’re my guardian angel or something,”
“Hey i'm just checking up on my favorite up and coming hero, sorry it took so long,” Wilbur said, “I wanted to see you sooner, but I get really busy,”
Tommy side-eyed him.
“What?” He giggled, “Have you seen my new awards on the wall?”
“Oh shut up,” Tommy swatted at the man’s face, Wilbur ducked out of the way swiftly.
“You are such a child,” He complained, “I wouldn’t want you out on the streets anyway,”
“Hey! I’m not a child! I would do just fine,” Tommy pouted, crossing his arms as they came to a stop outside the alley. “Plus I can help in special cases as a sidekick in two years,” Tommy stuck out his tongue at Wilbur.
“God help whoever you get paired with then,” Wilbur said leaning down to get in his face. Tommy’s expression went solemn and he wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s neck, getting him in a sorta-head lock.
“Hey!” Wilbur laughed, stumbling over his long legs.
“Take it back!” Tommy pleaded.
“Nope!” Wilbur was still laughing as he reached for Tommy’s arms to pry him off him. Soon enough both of them were laughing when a sharp buzz cut them off.
“Requesting back up, Wilbur you there? Over,” A voice came over Wilbur’s radio. Tommy let go, realizing he had to go do his job now. Realizing this is where they would part for who knows how long.
Wilbur pressed his lips together, “Yeah I'm en route, over,” He responded.
“Duty calls, I’ll see you later though,” Wilbur promised, Tommy didn’t say anything, offering a nod. “Stay safe,”
Tommy watched as he walked the other way. He then turned and went his own way, continuing his day, doubting he would see Wilbur, talk to him, laugh with him, for another long time.
= 3 =
Tommy in fact didn’t see Wilbur the next day, or the next month, hell even the next year. It was okay though, Tommy was training a lot to be eligible to be on a mission alongside trained heroes. It was a special opportunity, only the best could go. And luckily Tommy passed.
He was so close to graduating and this was the next best thing. He was going to be able to go out and fight real villains, of course under the command of someone else and without a real weapon but it was close. He was given a special suit to accommodate his wings, which were still useless, and Tommy was beginning to think they were defected.
Because Tommy couldn’t do much more than float. It was even disadvantageous the way he couldn’t run as fast or jump down buildings. Either way, it would be fine, Tommy still had his combat skills.
Along with that, they were given a few weapons for stunning, not killing. Like tranquilizer darts and taser guns. Tommy was fine with that, he was fine with anything he just wanted to go.
And gods he might have let the excitement get to his head.
He was now somewhere underground in the facility they were supposed to be investigating. Tommy wandered away from his group…accidently… because he wanted to try to do it on his own. Tommy had studied the map for the entire day yesterday, he swore he knew every hallway and door but now he felt lost.
He walked slowly down a white painted hallway, the doors were scarce and Tommy didn’t know which way was right or left, up or down. He was supposed to be looking for a stash of money, five hundred thousand dollars to be exact, stolen by some guy named Punz.
He was pretty sure he was told he works with Dream and Tommy wouldn’t think that had any significance but he remembers Sapnap from when he was eight. And so that would explain why they couldn’t kill Punz, he was under Dream’s protection. Whatever that meant.
Tommy would suggest to just kill Dream, cut off the head of the snake, but apparently that was a no go.
Anyway this money was stolen from people across the city, seemingly going to be used for villain funding or importation of dangerous goods. So he was supposed to help retrieve it, but right now he served as no help, walking circles underground all alone. He couldn’t even find the elevator or stairs.
He didn’t let any sense of guilt or failure get to his head, he just needed to find someone.
Conversation was constant on his radio but he refused to ask for help. He kept walking until the lights shut off, red lights began to flash. Tommy listened for alarms but there were none. Odd.
So Tommy trudged through darkness, barely able to see he followed down a corridor that looked different from the rest. At the end of it, he began to observe a large wheel door that appeared to look like a vault door.
Tommy’s hope was restored as he quickly cleared the hallway. He gripped the prongs on the door and turned it with all of his strength. He then pushed open the heavy door, eyes searching through the darkness, and all of the air was drained from his lungs.
All of the money was here, in broad light, it was stacked in large blocks. Tommy stepped inside, heading towards the money. He ran his hand down the paper, he did it.
Connecting to his radio he said, “I located the money, I repeat, I located the money, over,” He pumped his fists in the air, celebrating silently.
“Stay where you are, sending backup, over,” A voice rang out, and Tommy sighed out of relief.
Tommy gave the money another brush of a finger, but this time it shocked him, sending a pulse of electricity up his arm.
“Sorry bud, but that’s not yours to have,”
Tommy turned to find a blonde standing by the entrance of the vault. He stepped inside, and shut the door behind him with a heavy thump.
“It’s not yours either,” Tommy rebutted, pulling his dart gun from his back waistline and holding it behind him.
“Hm” The man tilted his head, “Do you know who I am?” He asked, tauntingly, and Tommy didn’t know for sure.
“Punz?” He didn’t really mean for it to be a question. He cleared his throat.
“Ding! Ding!” He touched the wall and the lights began to flicker. Punz had the power of electricity. It was coming back to him now.
The lights went on and off until it was pitch black. Tommy blinked like he thought he would be able to see, he was stepping carefully back until he hit the wall. He held his breath.
Then a hand was at his neck and he was lifted off the ground. Tommy choked and kicked at Punz but he couldn’t reach him. The light’s went back on and he was met face to face with the villain. His eyes glowed an electrical blue, something Tommy felt he should be scared of.
He smiled as he held him tighter. Then a shock of electricity shot out of his hand, right against Tommy’s neck. Tommy jolted, squirming in the uncomfortable pain that raced through his pain.
Tommy scratched at Punz’s hand with one of his, the other was still pinned against his back. If he could just–he wriggled enough to get the hand free. He positioned the gun against Punz's gut and pulled the trigger.
Punz immediately fell to the ground unconscious and Tommy fell to the ground near him, coughing and trying to rid his body of the bone grazing electricity.
Then another person appeared, lounging on the stairs of the vault. He cracked his neck, “he’s useless you know, can’t complete a single job,” He pointed lazily to Punz. Then the man looked up, and Tommy shuffled back against the wall in instinct.
The man’s eyes glowed a green, lips pulled in a permanent smile.
“What? Are you scared?” He mocked, looking at Tommy like he was a pawn in a game. “No reason to be really,” He got up, stretching his long legs, “I’ll make it painless,” He chuckled.
Tommy shook his head, reaching for his taser and holding out in front of him. Dream shook his head, using a two-fingered move to throw the weapon right out of Tommy's hands. “Don’t be stupid Tommy,” he said lowly. Telekinesis and teleportation?
“How do you know my name?” Tommy stammered, his skin growing cold as the man neared.
“I know everyone of importance, and you,” He pointed, “you’re Wilbur’s pet,” He stuck out his bottom lip, “can’t touch you or else I get in trouble huh?” He whined mockingly. He laughed loudly, too loudly, it was off putting.
“I’m no one’s pet,” Tommy spat back.
“You’re right,” He shrugged, suddenly uninterested, “And if you aren’t I wouldn’t really care,” He leaned down inches from Tommy’s face. He swallowed loudly and Dream smirked, “Because no one tells me what I can and can’t do,”
The ceiling broke in with a large explosion. It crashed down, wires, vents, lights they all fell. Tommy took cover with his hands over his head. When he looked up, everything was in slow motion.
He saw Dream get shot between his eyes. The bullet hole bled out and the light in his eyes died out. For a moment, just a moment. Because then he was back, the green in his eyes restored and the hold in his face healed back together.
Tommy sucked in a breath in a gasp but all he tasted was concrete. Then someone was helping him up, someone was holding his hand and guiding him away. People were talking all around him and Dream fell to the ground. People were swarming, people were in the ceiling, and Tommy was leaving.
“We need healers, over,”
“The money is here, send in the commander, over,”
“Get him out of here,”
“Threat is unconscious, its safe to pursue, over,”
The door to the vault was opened and people poured inside, and when Tommy looked behind him there were even more people, how did that happen? He couldn’t focus, where was he going? What’s happening?
“Idiots,” A harsh sigh and squeeze to his hand, “Who the fuck thought it was good idea to take heroes in training to Dream’s headquarters,” He was mad, really mad.
“Who the fuck left you alone?” It was jarring, the suddenly sharp tone Wilbur talked to him with. Tommy all of the sudden was whipped back to reality. His heart was in his ears and his breaths were so fast he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel his hand gripping Wilbur’s.
He stopped walking, trying to feel his pulse in his neck but his hands were so shaky. His pulse quickly thumped against his fingers, he thought he was dying.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Wilbur spoke again, this time less mad. He grabbed Tommy’s hand off his neck, thumbing circles against his skin, “you’re okay, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” He was in front of him, offering a reassuring smile.
Tommy stared at him, and just fell into him, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you,” He cried, body still shaking from encountering Dream.
He felt Wilbur nod, “I’ve got you,”
“I– was trying to help, I wandered off and got lost, I’m sorry,” He tried to explain, his tight throat physically stopping him from talking in full sentences, “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know,”
Wilbur’s arms tightened against his back, “Don’t apologize, you did it, you finished the job,”
“I’m proud of you,” Wilbur declared.
Wilbur took Tommy to the roof, from there they sat on the edge and watched the rest of the heroes load the money into large trucks.
Tommy swung his feet in the air, eyes on the sun dipping behind clouds. “I'm not your pet right?” And Tommy wanted to take it back as soon as he said it, it was stupid, he didn’t even know why he would think that.
“What?” Wilbur asked quickly, almost disgusted with his question.
“Never mind, it was just something Dream said,” Tommy shook his head.
“Tommy,” Wilbur started but then hesitated, “I wish you never met that slimy son of a bitch, but since you did you need to know that’s his thing. He manipulates, he lies, he puts stupid things in people’s heads to make them scared,”
“Oh,” Tommy replied, understanding, he thinks.
“So no, your not anyone’s pet, you’re my friend,” He said and then continued, “and I was thinking, after you graduate, we could be partners,”
Tommy turned his head at that, looking at Wilbur and his sloppy hair and eyes full of emotion. “Really? You’d want a bad luck charm like me?” He asked, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his chest.
He exhaled through his nose, “I think working with you would be really great Float,”
Tommy laughed at the dumb nickname. “Yeah, okay sure,” He agreed.
“Good, it's not very fun meeting under these circumstances,”
“That's entirely your fault, you know,” Tommy stood, Wilbur joined him not long after.
“Yeah, yeah, but now we can be busy together,” Wilbur offered, his open-mouth smile brighter than the setting sun.
“Well I'll see you then yeah?”
“Yeah, actually I’ll tell Phil to move up your graduation date for finding the stolen money,” He said, pulling up his radio.
“Can you really?!” Tommy asked, jumping forward to look up at Wilbur with ecstatic eyes.
“No,” He pressed his lips together before bursting out laughing.
“Fuck you,” Tommy turned and fell backwards over the side of the building.
“Tommy!” Wilbur shouted, eyes blown wide. But Tommy was slowly floating down with a wide grin and a middle finger in the air. “Fuck you,” He blew out, rolling his eyes.
And that time, when Tommy left Wilbur, he knew he was going to see him again.
= 1 =
So Tommy did graduate, Wilbur was there in the front row making an embarrassment of himself by clapping so loud. Tommy wouldn’t stop smiling that day, him and Wilbur hung out for hours until Wilbur was called away but now Tommy could come too. And it was fun, being alongside his longtime hero and friend. He was a bit over protective, but never overbearing and never too much for Tommy to handle.
If anything, he liked Wilbur looking out for him. They’ve worked for a year now, side by side and Tommy wouldn’t have it any other way. Being a hero was everything he ever dreamed it would be. It was so freeing, so exhilarating, sure it instilled a lot of anxiety but nothing late-night talks with Wil couldn’t fix.
He was happy, he was truly happy. He hadn’t seen villains like Dream and his henchmen around and he would ask about them, yet he had the feeling that would bring them back somehow. So he didn’t mention them.
Usually Tommy was fighting low-reputed villains and street criminals. It was easy, apparently it boosts his ego, Wilbur says. It’s been a while since Tommy’s been in a life-threatening predicament, or one without Wilbur there, so he was able to be alone more often.
Now Tommy was on a stake-out, alone, and it was really boring. He was in an alleyway, and he hadn’t seen people in hours. His feet were on the dash and his gun was spinning in his hand, he could probably fall asleep if he wanted to.
But, he would much rather annoy Wil.
“Big bro Wil? over,”
It was a few seconds before he responded dully, “Yes?”
“Hey you didn’t say over, that is a crucial part of our job, over”
Tommy could practically hear the sigh Wilbur would give, “Float, aren’t you supposed to be on watch?”
“Wil, aren’t you supposed to be here with me? over,”
“Because you whined about how much you wanted to do stuff independently,”
“Well I didn’t mean it, I’m bored, over,”
“Last time I was there you used me as a foot rest the whole time, so I'm good,”
Tommy held the radio just so he could groan, “over,”
“You’re ridiculous,”
“C’mon what if something attacks me or something,” He almost forgot, “over,”
“Don’t say that Tommy,” Wilbur’s tone suddenly changed, he only used his real name when he was being urgent.
“I’m serious, I think I see something, over,”
“Stop, do you actually?”
Tommy didn’t respond for a moment.
“Tommy?!”
“I’m just fucking with you big dubs, pleaseeee come sit with me, over,”
“Fucking fine, you’re worrying me,”
“I’m fine Wil, over,”
“Are the doors even locked?”
“Uhm,” Tommy checked, no they were not. “Yeah, of course, over,”
Tommy leaned forward over the steering wheel. He spotted a man, walking swiftly through the alley.
“Wait Wil, Wil, I see someone,”
“You forgot to say over,”
The man looked at his car, and he swore they made eye contact. Then the man disappeared into the shadows.
“Wil, I’m actually scared,” He looked out for a shifting silhouette but he simply disappeared.
“What? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Tommy said slowly.
Then something knocked at his right window. Tommy turned to find a face staring in. Smiling. Tommy jumped back, arm reaching for the door handle.
“Tommy?”
The man backed up a few steps before raising a gun, Tommy fiddled with the door handle. A single shot hit his window and it spiderwebbed.
“Tommy! Are you okay? Answer me,”
Tommy let out a breath but then he continued to shoot. The window continued to crack. And crack.
Tommy opened the door, swinging it open and stumbling out. His gun fell from his hands onto the pavement.
“I’m on my way, please be okay,”
He leaned down to grab it, noticing that the gunshots had stopped. When he picked it up he looked under the car. The man was under the car, crawling quickly towards him like a spider; limbs spread out and bones bent at inhumanly angles.
Tommy screamed, failing to pick up his gun and running the other way. Yet, hands encircled his waist before he could get far. “No!” He cried.
-
Wilbur didn’t care that he was driving at ungodly speeds because Tommy’s radio had gone completely silent and he had the worst feeling in his stomach.
Tommy and him always joked he had a sort of six sense for Tommy. Yet, Wilbur actually believed it might be true. Ever since he saw him in the subway shop, backed into a wall with tears in the corners of his eyes and his burned hands clutched to his chest he knew he would stop at nothing to keep him safe.
He truly did have a specialty for getting in difficult situations and Wilbur would just know. He would feel it through some untraceable bond. Thankfully, every time it was right, and every time he could save him.
He thought Tommy was the brightest and funniest person he knew, was it weird to call him his best friend? He didn’t care, he was, and he was glad that recently Tommy had started to call him his big brother. Because if that's what he needed, that's what he would be. If he’s learned anything through the years, watching Tommy grow up and achieve his dreams, it would be that he would do anything for him.
The sense he had was going insane right now and usually he would be right next to him by now. But he wasn't, he was still a mile away. He knows where he’s stationed because he was supposed to be there with him.
He was supposed to be completely disregarding their jobs and blasting music through the windows, he was supposed to be poking fun at Tommy’s nickname and his wings that he’s learned to accept. He was supposed to be Tommy’s shoulder to lean on when he inevitably falls asleep on the job.
He was supposed to be there when he got in trouble, when he was in danger.
And he wasn’t.
Wilbur drove down the alleyway wildly and skidded to stop when seeing the car. He opened the door, not even bothering to turn his car off, and ran out. He pulled his gun out of the holster, hoping to the gods, Tommy had his. But coming up to the car, seeing the bullets in the window and the gun on the ground, hope was trickling.
And seeing that the gun was Tommy’s, drawn on with a pen to make little drawings of raccoons (completely against hero protocol by the way), his hope dried up much like his mouth.
He heard something in the distance, Wilbur looked around, searching for Tommy. He followed the sounds of cries, walking faster and faster around alleyway corners.
Finally he found him. And gods what did you do this time Tommy?
Tommy lay on the ground, a hybrid’s foot pressing down on his neck. His wings flap weakly against the ground as he tries to escape the gun pointed at his head.
“Hey!” He yelled, trying to get the hybrid's attention, “Get off of him!”
The person looked at him, tilting his head like an animal, “No, he deserves to be killed,” He responded with so much pain in his voice.
As Wilbur neared he could see the tears streaming down either sides of Tommy’s face. His eyes traced over Wilbur, searching, asking for help.
“What did he do to you?” Wilbur questioned, finger nearing his trigger.
“Do you know how many of my kind he has killed? Hundreds,” He cried and Wilbur froze. Confused.
“No,” Wilbur dragged out. Certainly not.
Then it clicked.
Tommy was in Wilbur’s car.
“No, that’s me,” Wilbur touched his chest, “I’m Wilbur, i'm the one you want, not him,”
The hybrid's face twisted. “No! You’re lying!” He looked at Tommy.
“I’m not!” Wilbur was panicking, “I promise i'm not,”
He watched Tommy’s eyes dart back and forth.
“Get off him and we can talk about this,” Wilbur promised falsely, he needed that gun away from Tommy.
“I don’t think so,” The hybrid growled and Wilbur pulled his trigger.
The first shot hit him in the shoulder, he stumbled back, off of Tommy. He charged towards him, making sure he didn’t shoot him. He aimed and sent another three bullets into his gut. He stood over him just for a moment, watching him and all of his extra limbs relax.
“Tommy,” He began, turning around, before seeing what the hybrid was pressing down on.
He had shot him in the neck. Blood was spilling out of him at a quickening pace, accumulating in a pool of blood by his head. Wilbur was on his knees in a second, pressing down on the bullet wound.
“No, no, you’re going to be okay,” Wilbur weakly spoke, and he hated how he couldn’t stay strong for him. “Can you speak? Toms?”
Tommy just stared at him, his mouth open in a silent cry. His eyes were red, tears getting trapped in his waterline and spilling down his cheeks.
“Tommy, come on,” He whispered. Then he reached clumsily for his radio, “Someone send a healer please! Over,”
“Tommy!” Blood gushed over his fingers, soaking his hands and spilling onto the ground.
He continued to scream for a healer, for help. “Send a fucking healer now!”
Tommy watched him motionlessly, blood appearing at the sides of his mouth and soon enough trickling down his chin.
“No,” He croaked. “Please, I'm supposed to keep you alive.” He cried, tears streaming down his face and dripping onto the puddling blood. Tommy began to convulse, choking on the blood in his mouth.
Tommy’s hands were suddenly on his, squeezing, wrapping around his fingers with a strength that only comes with pain. Wilbur knew he didn’t want to die. He could only imagine Tommy begging him to save him and he couldn’t.
He felt Tommy’s strength until his eyes fluttered closed.
Wilbur was shaking. He gripped Tommy’s hands. “No, please come back, just stay a little longer,”
“I can save you,” He said, his body wracked with anxiety and failure.
But he was lying.
Sirens blared loudly in the evening air, nearing with every harsh breath.
But they were lying too.
There was only one truth, and that was that Wilbur was too late.
He had one obligation, one priority, and he couldn’t save the young boy with blonde hair and big blue eyes, gapped teeth and a suit that had a ‘T’ on it. He couldn’t save the stressed student with tired shoulders and blood splattered in his face. He couldn’t save the panic ridden teen that would strive to do anything to make people proud. He couldn’t save his friend, his brother, the light of his world.
He was simply too late.
Maybe if time was on his side, Tommy would have never entered that subway shop. The one he threw Sapnap into after he saw him watching Tommy patrol the streets like a mini-him.
If time was on his side.