Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Snap, I'm bored."

"Mel you are on patrol, literally on the way to a distribution location."

"Does that mean I can't be bored?"

Ranboo teleports behind Tommy and puts his black and white leather gloved hands onto his shoulders, shaking him from behind.

“Walker! What the fuck!”

Ranboo laughs, and teleports on top of the near-by buildings' low roofs.

“Snap, Ranboo is being mean!”

Snap, Tubbo’s vigilante name, crackles through the hidden earpiece with a laugh.

Ranboo keeps jumping on top of the wet roof tops, while Tommy grumbles about being “bullied” by the two.

“Mellohi, you gotta get going man. Stop being so stubborn.” Tubbo says seriously, but keeping his tone light.

“But why? It’s not active, we are just searching for leads!”

“Mellow, there is so much wrong with what you just said.”

“He’s right Mellohi.” Ranboo cuts in.

“Wow. I can’t believe you are treating the most best vigilante around like this.”

“Well Tommy, while you and Ranboo are fucking around, I’ve been looking into our location in district more. It is becoming very possible that it is active.”

“Wait what? Ranboo, get down here! Just teleport us over please.” Tommy says, as he draws out the last ‘e’ in his sentence.

Ranboo jumps down from the roof and puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder again, teleporting them to district 89 to the building they need to be looking through.

“Wowza! Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that big man!”

“We’ve been doing this for almost two years, Mel. Get used to it.”

Tommy throws his head back, putting a hand to his heart dramatically.

“Oh my! I’m getting old. I’m losing my shine.”

Tubbo’s voice breaks through their communicator sitting next to their ear, voice louder than before.

“Guys, I love hearing you have fun, but you need to get going. We cant fuck this up.”

“Snappp-“ Tommy whines back.

Ranboo laughs, pushing his companion forward to the building in front of them.

“Go get em’ vigilante.”

Tommy looks backward to Ranboo once more, smirking.

“Best damn vigilante you mean,” he says pointing at his friend's chest. He gestures to him to leave the area and walks over to the rusted door. He grabs a pin from his pocket and rests it in his left hand as he inspects the handle, switching from ‘charismatic, teenage illegal vigilante just having fun’ to ‘this is a serious job, people's lives are in my hands’ vigilante in a split second. A skill perfected on his part.

He wipes some of the rust off with his gloves finger, opening the hole to slip in the lock-pick. It slides in and Tommy wedges it around, opening the lock within a few seconds.

He stands up, taking a step back and looking over to the roof where Ranboo is hiding and looking down at him.

He puts the lock-pick between his fingers and points up at him, while shoving the door open with his foot.

Ranboo raises his hands and pretends to clap in a faux impressed way.

Tubbo’s voice cracks through once more, “Mellohi, I love ya like a brother, like a best friend, but please get this on with. I want to eat dinner.”

Tommy rolls his eyes and walks in, snapping once more into his serious demeanor.

He falls back into the shadows against the wall, searchlights in his mind looking out for anything that is suspicious.
It does not take long for it to come. A mascuilne figure appears in the middle of the room, holding a figure that looks small and human.

His mind clicks, getting into a mindset where he is the famed vigilante that is very serious and is one of the best in his field. The mindset that everyone sees him as, Mellohi, not Tommy. He grabs his pocket knife and is about to make his appearance from the shadows when he hears Tubbo start talking through his communicator.

“Mel- The heroes are looking for you outside- go hide!”

He slams his back against the wall again, flattened and camouflaged against the shadows.

It’s not long until he hears the door get slammed open and he watches the perpetrator flinch back and run through another door away from the heroes.

The heroes that appear are The Silver Trio, as Tommy calls them. He would have called them the golden trio, but that is Tommy and his two vigilante friends.

The trio consists of some of the top heroes- Death’s Father, Bloodlust, and Ambience. Tommy groans in his head, but tries to remain faithful. Maybe they are here to help the trade going on too?

He is almost instantly proven wrong when he hears his good friend Ambience whisper to Bloodlust something about where the fuck the “fucking annoying vigilante” was. Of course, that was him.

So Tommy needed to think fast. He needs to find a way to slip past his buddies over here and get that kid away from the child-trafficker. He doesn’t really have time to think so he just decides to book it through where the man went.

His feet push against the wall and he is suddenly exposed in the light and to the eyes of the heroes.

“There he is!” Death’s father calls out, but Mellohi doesn’t acknowledge it. He focuses on getting the kid he saw to safety.

Mellohi’s feet are loud against the floor, not caring if they are unheard, he is already known in the building. He drags on, pushing a door open and finding the man holding the kid, trying to keep them quiet and obedient as to not be found.

But the young vigilante is already aware of him and the child’s presence. He gives no mercy to the sick and twisted.

Tommy slams the door shut behind him and turns around just in time to block the man from hitting him, the younger twisting around his pocket knife to the blunt side and smashing it into the older’s head harshly. He falls to the ground, almost passed out but not.

Behind the door he hears the heroes trying to open it, but ultimately giving up and breaking it down instead. Tommy runs to the kid and picks them up, going over to the other exit in the room.

Once outside with the trio close on his trail, he starts talking through his communicator.

“Walker I need a teleport please! Big man ain’t doing too well-”

In a second Ranboo is there and teleporting them away, to what looks like district 79.

Luckily Ranboo got them to a recluse area, so Tommy was able to try and calm the kid down.

He sits down and puts the kid in front of him, while Ranboo stays to the side trying to explain the situation to Tubbo.

The little boy has white fluffy hair and snowy fox ears, his eyes are aimed towards the ground he seems really fucking terrified. Well- you can’t really be surprised, he was just about to be sold like an animal and then was picked up by a random teenager and teleported to another location he doesn’t know. It’s definitely pretty reasonable on his part, can’t blame the poor kid.

Tommy switches to a more child friendly demeanor, and starts to talk.

“Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I scared you like that. I needed to get you outta there as fast as I could, yeah?” he says, letting a small chuckle that he tried to make sound comforting.

The white haired boy looks up, squinting his eyes in an anxious manner.

“Okay, I know you’re scared right now, and I don’t blame ya’, but I need to ask you a few things to make sure I can get you to a safe place. Can you do that for me?”

He nods after a minute of thinking, and Tommy mentally frowns. Way too trusting of a kid, but that makes his job much easier.

“Alright, do you have a family I can bring you too?”

He shakes his head, looking back down at the ground.

“That’s okay, do you have a name?” Tommy keeps his voice in a child-friendly tone, trying to ease the child into getting comfortable.

Once more, he shakes his head.

“Well, I think someone as strong as you deserves an equally as strong of a name, one that’s all for you.”

This gets him smiling, though a very small smile but a smile nonetheless.

Tommy laughs, gentle and sweet, “How about Yogurt? It would match your white hair, yeah?”

His eyes glisten, as though Tommy hung the stars and they were all for him, giving him the confidence to say the first word he has said all night, “Yogurt!”

They both smiled, Yogurt’s voice was soft and slightly mumbled. He looked to be about 4, if Tommy had to take a guess. Though he could be 5, as it’s hard to tell when he is so skinny and underfed. Yogurt probably hasn’t been able to talk all that much, as Tommy assumes he has been going through this all his life.

Tommy is able to sympathize with him.

“Yogurt it is then. One last thing, would it be okay if I found someone who was very nice and that can take care of you?” Yogurt kind of frowns here, but Tommy continues, “I will try and pay some visits of course, but I am not able to give you the life you deserve alright? I will make they are the nicest person and will give everything you need. They will be able to keep you safe.”

“Do you promise they will be nice?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” Yogurt nods, and shuffles over to give Tommy a hug.

He reciprocates right back.

“Here’s how we are gonna do this, you can fall asleep and once I find someone I think you will like I’ll wake you up.”

Yogurt nods into Tommy’s shoulder and he picks them up, standing and walking to Ranboo who was watching from a few feet away.

“Ran, can you teleport us to district 27? I feel that will be the safest for Yogurt here.”

He nods and puts a hand on his shoulder, letting purple particles poof around them.

Ranboo and Tommy walk through the sleeping district, trying to find someone who would take care of this adorable kid.

He is asleep on Tommy’s shoulder, and snoring very softly with the rise and fall of his chest.

They keep walking until they see a fox hybrid with electric orange hair that has a white streak hidden in it in the distance. Tommy walks up to him and starts to talk very fast on a slight rant.

Checking his voice changer was on, he starts to say, “Uh, hey! You! Orange hair!”

The man looks up from his phone , “Oh shit, what the fuck are you doing here Mellohi?!” He resounds, sounding shocked and slightly offended.

“Yeah, I usually stay in the lower districts but I’m in a situation and need a bit of help. I can't take care of a child and as you can see, I have a sleeping one in my arms. He was about to be sold to some weird bastard, and he has no parents to go back to. Would you like to maybe take him in? Or know someone who would be safe for him to stay with?”

That’s a lot of words for Tommy, he doesn’t like speeches like this.

“I- I guess?” The fox man says, caution leaking from his voice like honey from a jar.

“Okay, well I know you might be apprehensive to take a kid from me, as cool as I am, but he is the sweetest little thing. He just wants to be safe.”

Before orange hair can say anything, he starts to wake up Yogurt.

“Hey, wake up kid. I think I found someone you’ll like.”

Yogurt looks up, uncovering his frosty white ears, ones that give away that he’s an arctic fox. He rubs his eyes and turns his head to look at the other fox.

He smiles, “You’re a fox! Like me!”

The apprehensive fox smiles as well, holding his hands out to the kid in a very awkward and unsure way as if offering to hold him.

Yogurt gladly takes the opportunity, hopping out Tommy’s arms and into the foxes.

Tommy smiles and takes a step back, giving a little wave to Yogurt, who waves right back sadly.

The older one cradles the child as if he were broken glass.

“Take care, furry man.” Tommy says, keeping his funny lighthearted persona.

“I’m not a furry, you don’t even know me-“

Before he could finish, the leather-clad vigilante is already gone into the shadows.

“Hey Tub, I don’t feel like walking home, can Ranboo pick me up,”

“Sure Mellohi, did you get everything sorted out?”

“Of course, did you doubt me big man?”

“Never, but PS, you just handed that kid over to a hero.”

“Oh shit, at least he’s safe?”

“Yeah, now get back for dinner.”

Ranboo and Tommy laugh, teleporting back to the apartment

Bad luck for him.

Chapter Text

A loud crash sounded, waking the vigilante from a distant sleep. Tommy jolts up from his thrift store bed to make sure they aren’t actually in danger.

“You’re gonna burn the food! You're making a damn mess!” His friend's familiar voice says from a room across the hall.

“I’m a professional chef Tubbo. What do you mean? I could never do that.”

Tommy rubs the sleep out of his eyes and changes into his pair of normal clothes. He puts on a sweater, the weather is getting cooler and the leaves are turning.

Opening the creaky door of the run-down apartment, he walks on the cold floor to the kitchen, where the youngest assumes his dear friends are.

Sure enough, there they are. In all their glory messy pajamas, splattered with batter.

“Oh, hey sleepy head.” Ranboo said, attempting to flip pancakes.

“Bout’ damn time, it’s almost 9.” A slight fond irritation can be heard from Tubbo’s voice.

“I need my beauty rest, I can’t stay this cool without sleep my friend.”

“To be fair I barely sleep and I’m still much cooler than you.” Ranboo interrupts from his master cooking.

“I’m not gonna take shit from a fucking enderman, ya’ bitch.”

“We don’t like swearing in this household Tommy, cmon now.”

“That’s it, I'm kicking you out. You can't be here anymore, be out by noon dickhead.”

“I literally pay the majority of the bills and make you food, you can’t survive without me.”

“He also gets you all your weapon parts!” Tubbo interjects before Tommy can speak.

“I’m done. I’m betrayed. I’m hurt. You added on more trauma dickheads. I’m going to Niki’s bakery without you two in spite.”

“Okay, don’t get arrested.” Ranboo voices, seemingly unfazed.

Tommy walks to the door of the three’s apartment, not so subtly kicking Ranboo on his way out. Slamming the door on his way out, he lets out a small smile. Life seems to be getting better. He could get used to this.

——————

On the top of the roof nearby, a figure stands watching the child leave the small apartment, a smirk full of arrogance and confidence on his face.

Bad bad luck.

——————

Tommy walks through the streets of district 87, where his home resides out of the 100 district city. He needs to walk a bit further before he gets to the underground tunnel system. That’s one thing Tommy’s proud of, the underground tunnels were made by the vigilantes of the city, some still here while most aren’t. The illegals, as they call themself, made the large tunnels out of an old sewage system that goes through the entire city as a way to get around unseen and easier.

Tommy is thankful for them.

And also his specially modified shoes that make him be able to move through the tunnels at fast car-like speeds.

Hey, they’re helpful.

After a small bit of walking he gets to one of the places the tunnels let off. Making sure no one is around and he’s covered by the bushes, he goes in.

The dim, warm, sewers engulf him. A comforting glow coming out from the lights installed. Graffiti litters the walls, all in signatures of various vigilantes. He loves looking over them, the other people risking their lives to help people while getting no credit, most of them never heard by the news.

Tommy walks along the damp passages, turning on his boots speed feature and starting to run.

He loves this, the wind in his hair no one here to judge him, it’s freeing.

He looks to his side and stops for a second to see he’s in district 19 by now.

Damn these shortcuts are helpful and I right?

Unless he doesn’t have his shoes of course, then they’re still decently long.

He sees a silhouette coming towards him, wondering who it could be for a moment before seeing parrot wings on his back and a red sweater on.

The wonderful vigilante, just now getting media coverage, Grian! The kind vigilante took care of Tommy multiple times when he was injured, and the younger soon started thinking of him as a brother figure.

“Hey Mellohi! Where are you going this time of day?”

“I’m headin’ over to Niki’s bakery, didn’t feel like taking the train today I guess.”

A small lie wouldn’t hurt Grian, right?

——————

Oops! You seem to have made a mistake Tommy…

That’s one of many.

Lies solidify your shovel you will use to dig your grave.

——————

“That’s cool, I’ll see you when I see you alright? Call me if you need me, I gotta get going.”

“Of course, see ya around Big G,”

And off Tommy goes again, speeding down tunnels splashing water as he goes along.

He finally makes it to district 15 and finds the exit way.

Climbing out the ladder, he is met with bright sun blinding his eyes.

Finally making it out, he combs through his hair with his fingers, and makes his way to Niki’s.

A deep breath hitches in his lungs, a slight cough coming up through his throat as he inhales what just be cigarette smoke.

Even though he lives in district 87 and he’s all the way in the nicer districts, there’s always someone who smokes.

He never gets used to it.

But that’s okay, because he is almost at Niki’s! He runs his hand down his shirt, getting rid of wrinkles.

He might be illegal but he likes to look nice.

Finally making it in, he opens the door and here’s the jingle of bells above him softly. Bookshelf’s line the walls along with plants taken care of with patience. Tommy walks to the counter to order.

“Hey Tommy! Nice to see you,” the pink haired girl said, “what would you like today?”

“Just some white hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin, big man hasn’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll get right for you, Toms.”

He puts the cash on the counter and takes a seat in the corner, pulling out his phone. Scrolling through Twitter while he waits for his food to be done.

Within a few minutes, a server came up and handed him his food and drink. Tommy muttered a quick thanks before taking a sip of the warm liquid. The bells above the entrance start to jingle again, and he looks up from his drink to see who came in.

It’s a tall man, probably a bit taller than him, with messy brown hair and a sweater with embroidered patches.

He thinks nothing of it, going back to unwrap his muffin.

It’s times like this Tommy enjoys the peace and quiet, undisturbed except for the sound of soft conversation and cooling coffee.

Until it was interrupted by the sweater man coming over and asking if he could sit with Tommy.

“I mean, sure? Do whatever you like man.”

“Nice nice.” Sweater sits across from him with his own drink in his hands, “So, kid in the store, what’s your name?”

Tommy wasn’t expecting that.

“Tommy,” he responds simply, “what do you need?”

“I just wanted to get to know you, my bad I guess.”

“Yeah, it is your bad dickhead.” He said with an eye roll and slight smirk.

“Ouch, I’m wounded by the teenager in a coffee shop. How will I ever recover?”

“Oh piss off. Well then, what’s your name?”

“You can call me Wilbur.”

“Well, Wilbur, why have you come over to talk with me?”

“I just wanted to have a chat man, you seem like a good kid.”

“Oh I swear to god if you're gonna kidnap me or some shit, I know how to rip someone’s ear off, be scared old man.”

Wilbur, as he now knows, chuckles. “I’m not gonna kidnap you Tommy, you don’t even seem that interesting.”

“Oh fuck you, I’m more interesting then you bitch. How old are you? 67? 78? Tell me, Wilbur, William. Can I call you William?-“

“No, you can’t call me William.”

“Okay William, will keep that in mind.”

Wilbur laughs again, setting his coffee down on the table.

“What’s a kid like you planning on doing this fine day?”

“Not answer shitty questions like this all day.”

“Ouch, again. You're a funny kid, ya’ know? I hope I see you around some more Tommy. I best be going for now.”

“Bye William, get hit by a bus or something.”

“Sure, Tommy.”

Chapter Text

——————

Cmon now Tommy, you’re digging yourself an unseen hole.

You still have time to fill it.

But at some point, it gets too deep.

And you can’t leave.

What bad luck.

——————

Once again, in the deep darkness of the night, a vigilante is hopping across buildings.

The young child ran across the roofs of brick buildings, not a care in the world, he wasn’t noticed by anyone, he was just a shadow.

He loved the freeing sense of it.

He loved the wind flying through his hair.

He loved the tranquillity.

He just loved it.

The quietness is an added plus on most days.

Usually until he has to start running from cops.

Or in this case, his favorite hero trio. The sleepy bois. Which, in Tommy’s personal experience, is very untrue. They are not sleepy at ALL and are actually very awake and active. How deceiving of them.

So here Tommy is, the famed vigilante, running from Ambience, Death’s Father, and Bloodlust all at the same time.

Most people are probably asking, “Oh, how is Tommy running away from three professional hero’s and still not being caught?” Well my friend, Tommy knows the streets. Ranboo and him spent hours analyzing and figuring out the hero’s fighting styles and tactics.

What can he say, he loves his favorite trio.

Love might actually be a little much, considering they are trying to track down, arrest, and sentence him to prison.

It’s a love/hate relationship.

Tommy looks down as he jumps towards another building, and sees a raccoon sitting in a trash bin.

That moment of hesitation looking down is what caused his downfall.

Though he didn’t know that. Tommy is still enjoying the moment.

So when he looks down as he jumps and hesitates when landing, Bloodlust gets a hit on him.

The shock is clouding his brain, he doesn’t feel the severity of it.

He doesn’t realize how deep the cut in his abdomen was.

So he kept running, and once he found his tunnels he hid in them. The illegal sits down at the bottom of the tunnels, deep breathes circling through his mind.

He thinks he’s calmed down enough to walk all the way home.

——————

How did this vigilante not know about adrenaline and shock?

Oh well.

Dig dig dig.

——————

Tommy continues walking through the damp, u lot tunnels, using a torch as light.

He’s getting weirdly tired, it’s been a long night.

He wished he could fly all the way home right now.

——————

Oh yeah, that.

I’m still proud of that Tommy.

Your beautiful, pitiful screams fill my ears.

It’s delightful to watch you suffer, vigilante.

——————

The tunnels seem longer than usual. The dampness seems more suffocating rather than comforting.

But he needs to get home, and lucky for him, he’s at where he gets off.

He walks over to the ladder, grabbing it with his gloved hands and pulls his right leg up, getting a slight ounce of pain, almost unnoticeable with his high pain tolerance.

Until he lifts his left leg up.

Pain burns through his body, aching up where he only now remembered getting hit with Bloodlust’s sword.

Fuck.

He steps off the latter, more burning flows at his side. It feels like it drips off in viscous honey. Hesitantly, he looks at his next huge fuckup.

It was a deep gash, right at his side.

How did he not notice his shirt ripped?

It hit him shortly after.

The adrenaline was still in his body, he was too hyper and in shock to notice.

He looks down again, to see the gash at his side, ripping down from the bottom of his chest to his hip, stretching from his middle back to his side.

The blood hasn’t even dried yet. The wound looks red and swollen, he has to pray to the gods above so it doesn't get infected.

But you see, it wasn’t even that deep of a cut. It was messy, too. Not enough to severely hurt an average person, especially one who’s been hurt as much as Tommy. He should be fine.

If he wasn’t already too low on blood and energy.

A little bit ago, not too long, about 1 month at most, Tommy got into his hands again.

And poor Tommy had his precious wings on his back be cut, broken, and ripped. And healing takes a while.

He doesn’t have that much blood and energy to waste.

He didn’t want to be selfish. He didn’t want to waste others' time. That’s why he was walking home instead of having Ranboo teleport him. Ranboo and Tubbo are sleeping. He doesn’t want to be a burden to them. So he keeps on walking. He’s gonna waste this savored blood. Because you know what?

They deserve sleep. They deserve it with their whole heart.

He powers his way up the suddenly rugged and itchy rope ladder. He powers his way through opening the heavy covering. He powers his way through getting home.

Once Tommy got to their apartment, he went inside as quietly as possible.

He walks over to the bathroom, opening the cabinet of medical supplies and grabs bandages and antibiotics. He pulls a towel out of the closet and runs it under the sink, carefully taking his shirt off.

He slips it off this bruised and cut shoulders, not liking in the mirror to see his torn and beaten wings.

They wouldn’t heal without professional care.

They can’t afford that.

He takes the soaked towel and presses the wound, absorbing the blood from his side. Carefully wiping it in a way he won’t cry when he does. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t want to cry. He can’t cry yet. He opens the ointment and puts it on the gash, then wrapping his stomach with gauze and bandages. That should work for now.

He can’t sleep yet, he still has to clean. He walks out of the bathroom, and grabs his sewing kit. Takes out a needle and thread, he starts stitching his shirt back together. Neat, delicate stitching embroiders itself into the fabric, making a gruesome scene a gentle domestic.

Once the shirt is patched up with some other fabric, he grabs a large bowl and starts filling up the water. Adding soap to the water, he puts the shirt in to soak.

Feeling satisfied, he changes into basketball shorts and a plain red shirt, sharpie marker staining the fabric as signatures and drawings Tubbo and Ranboo made.

It’s his favorite shirt.

He slips on some socks and brushes his teeth, then slips into the bed he shares with his fellow vigilantes. He pulls the blanket up and shuts his eyes, letting himself be whisked off to either a land of dreamless rest or night terror lane.

Gods have mercy on him.

And under the thin gaze, sloppily put on, it starts to get red, and irritated.

Like an infection.

——————

I see you Tommy.

You haven’t escaped.

Don’t be childish.

Dig.

Dig.

Dig.

——————

Bad luck.

Chapter Text

The three hero’s parted ways after they lost the vigilante. Ambience decided to walk home and enjoy the scenery, unlike Bloodlust and Death’s father, who decided to just go home and sleep.

So here he is, he changed out of his hero clothes and is dressed as a civilian again, so he is back to himself.

He is Wilbur again.

He enters district 87, and looks at the bush behind a building, he almost thinks nothing of it until he hears a groan.

A groan so light most wouldn’t notice.

But part of Wilbur’s power is enhanced hearing, along with mesmerizing people with unheard music and becoming a ghost-like being able to be some i seems and go through walls.

So he goes into his ghostlike state, and goes underground, seeing if there’s anything he should be worried about.

His job is to help citizens, even if they don't know who he is.

He goes down and can faintly see a boy looking like the vigilante from earlier, in a large underground opening.

When Wilbur goes ghost, he can only faintly see things, and he sometimes forgets what he sees. So he can't pinpoint some details.

So he focuses on the problem on the boy.

His face is blurry, no features he can pinpoint in ghost form and only can see a tan and leather silhouette. Red is only coming from his side, which seems kind of like the place Bloodlust hit Mellohi.

He goes back to the surface and goes normal, hiding in front of the building to not be seen. When he goes up, he can only remember a few things.

Gash, groans, soft face.

Gash, groans, soft face.

Gash, groans, soft face.

Gash, groans, soft face.

He starts walking home, starting at a slow pace and turning into a run.

The memory is getting fainter.

He can’t remember where the kid was.

He lost the location.

Shit.

——————

Ranboo wakes slowly up, trying to enjoy the rest and comfort of his bed for as long as possible. He sits up under the blanket and balls his hands into fists to try and focus his eyes on the world around him.

As his eyes flutter open, a soft smile emerges on his face as he sees his two friends sleeping beside him.

That also means Tommy got home safe.

He slides out of bed, and goes to the kitchen to make coffee for him and Tubbo and tea for Tommy. The tallest roommate grabs the tea kettle and starts to boil the star and gets down 3 cups. Knowing his friends will probably go get food at Niki’s bakery, he replaces mugs with travel thermoses.

Once the water boils he gets tea bags and coffee grains out and mixes it all together. He was about to close Tommy’s thermos but he notices his shirt soaking in soapy-lukewarm water with, now very faint, blood stains and gets Tylenol. He puts the lid on the tea and gets a shot glass of water with 2 of the pain-relief pills and puts them next to Tommy's mug.

He knows Tommy probably wouldn’t tell them himself, so he hopes Tommy gets the message.

With the drinks sealed and done, he goes back into the shared bedroom and picks out some clothes, consisting of a white shirt with sharpie writing on it and black jeans, he grabs a black and white letterman jacket to go with it.

The ender-boy hears shuffling behind him and he sees both Tommy and Tubbo getting up.

Yawns coming from both of them are contagious, so he ends up doing the same.

Tubbo stretches his arms out, sitting up.

“Good mornin’ bossman,”

“Hey Tubbo, get dressed, we are going to Niki’s for breakfast.“

“Okayyyy, can you make coffee for me please Boo?”

“Already done Bo.”

“You know me so well.”

The last of the three sits up in bed, yawning once more before finally speaking, “Do we have money for the bus?”

The ram responded before Ranboo could, “We have saved money, we can borrow some from rich passerby’s that have more than they can spend. ” Tubbo adds air quotes around the borrow.

“Well you don’t have to say that like I’m an idiot.”

“But you are?”

“I’m offended. Ranboo my beloved protect me please.”

Ranboo laughs softly, “Get dressed. I made tea for you.”

“Good enough. You’re being nicer than Tubbo therefore you are my favorite.”

“What the hell? I did nothing. You are making up lies.”

“Well you were being a bi-“

Ranboo walks out of the room, leaving the two to banter. He brushes his teeth and hair before going to put on his shoes, faintly hearing Tubbo and Tommy argue in the background.

It’s a fragile scene, it can be broken with the wrong wording. It can be broken with the mention of his shirt soaking in water to get blood off.

So he doesn’t utter a word. Not yet.

He hears heavy footsteps behind him, and looks in the mirror to see Tubbo standing behind him.

“Boo,” Tubbo says, in the most not scary way a person could.

“Oh my goodness you almost gave me a heart attack, I am in utter shock right now.”

“I know, I have that effect on people.”

Ranboo looks at Tubbo in the mirror again, seeing fluffy-messy bed head, pajama pants and a shirt with “I sparkle like the sun” printed on it with stars and glitter.

He got that from a thrift store ironically, but now it’s one of his favorite shirts.

“Yep, very scary.”

At that word, Tommy comes into the bathroom next.

“Move please, I’m here now. I need my beauty space.”

“I think it’s actually beauty sleep Tommy, not space.”

“No,”

“Oh,” Ranboo laughs, “okay then?”

“Yeah bitch. That’s what I thought.”

So now here they all are, Ranboo washing his hands and Tommy hitting Tubbo with his hairbrush while Tubbo is trying to brush his teeth.

After Tubbo brushes his hair, he leaves the bathroom to get dressed. He picked out a black button down with a green sweater to go over it, and cuffed jeans.

Once Tommy brushed his teeth he grabbed his clothes, which for him consisted of the sharpie marker shirt he was wearing from before, patched and embroidered jeans and a long sleeve white shirt to go under his shirt.

They all put on their shoes and start walking out of the apartment. They walk in a slight v formation, Tommy standing in the front and Tubbo and Ranboo on both sides of him.

As they walk to the subway, Tommy puts a hand in his pants pocket to make sure he has his wallet and pocket knife.

You can never be too safe.

——————

I see you walking with your little friends. You seem close.

Closer then we were.

I don’t like that.

——————

The three enter the almost empty train, Tubbo sitting down on the seats and Ranboo and Tommy standing.

The train starts to go faster and faster down the underground tracks.

It slows to a stop at district 18, doors opening and letting on three other individuals.

One seems familiar to Tommy, brown hair almost falling over his eyes with a beanie on his head.

It’s his dear friend Wilbur, the guy from Niki’s bakery.

He glanced over again at them, and saw Wilbur whisper over to his two friends. The two sit down and Wilbur starts to come over to where they’re standing . Tommy nudges Ranboo to warn him someone is coming over .

“Hey, Tommy was it?”

“Yep, nice to see you again dear William.” Tommy responds, a smirk growing on his face.

Wilbur laughs at his joke, even though it wasn’t even funny. “It’s nice to see you again Tommy. Where’re you going on this fine day?”

“We’re going to get some food at Niki’s. What do you know Wilbur? Are you a spy? Oh I swear to god if you're here to kill me come get me fucker,” he pulls out his pocket knife jokingly.

“Woah there child, I’m just making conversation.”

“If you say so bitch boy.”

“And also, why do you have a knife?!”

“Reasons you don’t need to know, Wilbur.”

Wilbur laughs at that, before walking back over to his other friends, one with pink hair in a messy braid and the other blond with a bucket hat.

They seem nice.

And slightly suspicious.

——————

At what point does a hole become big enough for a coffin?

Tommy, while your not there yet,

You will be soon.

If this keeps up.

Dig.

Dig.

Dig.

——————

Technoblade watches Wilbur sit back down and looks over to the boy he was just talking to.

He has blond hair, slight scars on his neck and face. Bandaids on his hands and one on his ear and nose. He has a soft face.

Soft face.

He thinks back to when Wilbur came back home tonight. He came in in a panic, uttering four words.

“Gash, groans, soft face.”

Now, a lot of people have soft faces, as one might describe. It’s probably a coincidence.

But it’s something to note, of course.

He seems tall for his age, he doesn’t look too old.

He’ll have to see how tall the vigilante they’ve been trying to find was.

——————

You keep running into the wrong people.

Bad luck, so it seems.

Chapter Text

Later that night, Tommy feels like he can’t do anything. The pain in his side came back, and he doesn’t want to check on it just yet.

He knows there’s probably something wrong.

So he puts on his vigilante outfit and mask.

He puts on his leather jacket and gloves.

And he grabs his goggles and puts them over his eyes and ties his shoes.

Before Tommy was about to push through the door, he looked back at Tubbo and Ranboo. He usually does his patrol with them, cracking jokes and helping people.

He hasn’t been going with them as much lately.

With that last glance, he grabs the door handle and walks out, the slightly dirty street lamp shines on him, illuminating the platform he stood on.

With the gloves on his hands, he grabs the metal ladder handles and starts climbing the the top of the apartment building.

Before he reaches the top, he lets go of the bar with one hand and only keep one foot on. He hands off the side, feeling the gusts of wind blow through his hair.

Head hanging back towards the ground, he takes a deep breath before making his way fully up.

One foot over the other, a rhythmic pattern.

The only way he goes is up, up, up.

Tommy now stands at the top, one of the tallest buildings in the district. He feels he’s on top of the world.

——————

One misstep and you will fall, Mellohi.

You will fall into my cold hands once again.

——————

Tommy looks around him, and he brings a hand up to the side of his goggles and taps a button, showing him a map of the surrounding districts. A red light blinks onto the projected map, showing him that there is something happening there.

Bingo.

He looks at the map one more time to see the coordinates and turns it off.

He looks at the buildings around him and sees where the conflict is happening.

He runs to the edge of the roof and jumps. He’s in the air, between buildings, free falling. He lands on the next building, and keeps repeating.

Jump, land.

Jump, land.

Jump, land.

Don’t fall.

——————

Techno sits at HQ, waiting for his co-worker Dream to finish telling the rest of them that if they see a Vigilante, it’s their job that they need to arrest them.

He sits in the chair, waiting for the clock to strike 12:00 am so he can leave with the reason for patrol.

The clock ticks, and hits 11:58.

Two minutes.

In Techno’s opinion, vigilantes shouldn’t be their first priority. They are just helping people most of the time.

But when it comes to Wil, he has a different opinion.

He hates vigilantes with his whole heart, he supports the government's idea that vigilantes aren’t helping anyone.

Click.

The clock changes to 11:59.

“The main vigilante that we need to get rid of is Mellohi. We don’t know anything about them, but he’s skilled and a threat,” Dream says, catching Techno’s attention.

He is in fact looking for him, but not for the same reasons.

Techno thinks sometimes he’s the only one with common sense here.

Click.

The clock strikes 12:00 am.

Techno stands up from his chair.

“Techno, what do you think you're doing?” Dream interrupts himself, his mask staring at Techno.

“It’s time for my patrol.” He states simply.

Dream sighs in return, heading back to his meeting.

“We’ve figured out he mostly stays in the further districts-“

The rest of the conversation was blocked out by the door shutting.

He walked to his room, and grabbed his royal cape, weapons, and skull mask.

He was about to leave when Phil came into the room.

“Hey mate.”

“Hey, Phil. What are you up to? Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Woah there, you’re sounding suspicious old man.”

“It’s about Mellohi.”

“Enlighten me, what are you thinking?”

“Don’t arrest him, we-“

Techno cuts him off, “I wasn’t planning on it. We need to talk to him, but Wil can’t be with us.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, we can talk to Wilbur about this stuff later, but I have to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll see ya’ later Dad.”

“You too.”

Phil disappears behind the door, and Techno knows he isn’t going to be doing a normal patrol.

He is going to find Mellohi and speak to him, find out more. But not for malicious intent.

He is more helpful than some of the heroes around here.

They could see if he would be interested in becoming more legal, or at least forming an alliance.

So Technoblade leaves the HQ, making his way to his hero vehicle, which is a motorcycle he and Sam designed and made.

He hopped on and started speeding down the dark streets, down to districts 85-95, where Mellohi usually patrolled.

The motorcycle was designed to be high speed, so he’ll be there in about 30 minutes.

The time passed by in a flash, passing closing shops and teens getting drunk on the streets, but eventually he made it.

He looks around, trying to find the vigilante, and sees a figure hanging from a building ladder.

It’s exactly who he wanted to see.

The leather-clad so called menace to the hero society.

Mellohi.

He starts climbing the building he’s next to and looks at him again, but now he’s at the top of the roof.

Techno walks closer to see better and sees him swiping in the air, like there’s a hologram there.

But there isn’t.

At least not to him.

That’s something to note, he has technology. Advanced technology.

Before Techno can get closer, Mellohi’s already jumping to a different roof.

Techno starts to follow him in the shadows, remaining about a 20 foot distance.

Mellohi stops at one building and Techno walks up behind him.

Before he could say anything to him, Mellohi turns around towards him and instantly raises his hand in a cutting off motion.

“Listen, I don’t wanna arrest-“

He was cut off by the vigilante being increasingly more angry, hand now motioning for him to stay quiet.

Though confused, he does.

Mellohi lowers himself to see the ground closer, and Techno comes up to see what he’s looking at, but is cut off by Mellohi doing a “stop” motion.

“Mel-“

Mellohi turns himself around, whispering in a low, angry voice, “Bloodlust I swear to god, give me a fucking second, don’t ruin this for me.”

Techno silences himself, looking at the vigilante before he takes out what seems to be a bat, and jumps down into the darkness of the alley.

He looks down, and he sees a fight happening.

He notices a familiar figure.

One of his coworkers.

Puffy.

Or as the public knows her as, Captain.

Unconscious, and being carried by a man in all black.

Mellohi walks behind the man, bat raised and unheard and unseen by anyone but him.

The bat raises over the man's head and before he knows it, it is swung and the man is down.

Mellohi saved Captain from being kidnapped.

Mellohi grabs what appear to be zip ties out of his pocket, and wraps them around the kidnappers wrist.

He walks over to Puffy who is not actually unconscious, just has tape over her mouth. Mellohi takes the tape off and in-cuffs her wrists.

“Hey Captain, are you fully awake right now?”

She takes a deep breath, words slightly slurring. “Enough to understand a conversation, hopefully.”

“Okay then, Cap. You need to be escorted home or are you fine on your own?”

“I’m fine, I just need to know my surroundings. You know, getting kidnapped and all that.”

“I get it man, it happens open. Big men like me have big enemies.”

“That’s concerning, Vigilante.”

The illegal one of the two laughs slightly, “You’re in district 88 right now.” he throws an unopened water bottle towards the hero.

“I’ll be making my way back now, thank you Mellohi.”

“It’s my job. I’m not illegal for nothing.”

Captain laughs before leaving down the alleyway, towards the lower districts.

Mellohi starts climbing the walls up towards Techno again, sighing once he reaches the top.

“What do you need Bloodlust, that you almost jeopardized the well-being of your co-worker for now?”

Low blow.

“I needed to speak to you.”

“You gonna arrest me? Put me in prison on death row or something?”

“Almost the opposite actually, I wanted to talk to you about a possible alliance. Things are happening. We know that, but we don’t know exactly what.”

The vigilante tilts his head, goggles tainting his eyes, but Technoblade can tell he seems slightly disturbed.

“That was certainly surprising. Wasn’t expecting that from the big and mean Bloodlust. You sure you aren’t gonna arrest me?”

“That’s my plan, unless you show me reason to.”

“I’m literally a vigilante, I just knocked out a man. I mean I’m certainly not complaining in the slightest.”

“I don’t think vigilantes are inherently bad, I mean you just saved one of my co-workers from being kidnapped.”

“True, and I’m also too cool to be arrested.”

“Now, about that alliance Mellohi.”

“Well Mr. Blood I would not be opposed but I ain’t giving you information outright, I don’t trust you yet.”

“That’s fair,”

“Well then Bloodlust, I’m sure this is the start of a wonderful alliance.”

“I'm sure it is Mellohi.”

The vigilante is tall.

Tall like the kid Wilbur talked to on the train.

What a coincidence.

——————

Techno, you’re supposed to arrest the vigilantes. Not befriend them.

But I will say, the more relationships someone has the more it hurts.

Salt in the wound.

So I coat my blade with salt.

Scattered across the sharp edges.

It makes the cut hurt like hell.

Dig.

Dig.

Dig.

Bad luck, you poor vigilante.

Chapter Text

As Technoblade watched Mellohi walk away, he noticed a fatal flaw.

He let down his guard for a second.

A flash.

Incredibly bad luck.

The light flickered onto him at the worst moment.

And Techno saw a small tuff of golden blond hair right before it was tucked back into a hood.

Wilbur's friend was also that same golden blond.

Huh.

How weird.

——————

It’s crazy how much a second of a misstep at the wrong time can change everything.

How long will this ally stay?

Unlike some might think I’m not all knowing.

I am just observant.

Waiting from the moment to strike, taking in every one of your movements.

I love puzzles, figuring things out.

You're my chess opponent, our skills are decently balanced. We place our moves with strategy and planning ahead.

How long until you fall into my hands? Making you my most prized possession, keeping you safe and away from people around you

I’m patient, I don’t always take my checkmate while I can. I like having fun.

It’s a sickly-sweet happiness.

You, Tommy, are my poisoned candy.

That’s why you aren’t dead yet.

My teeth haven’t rotted.

——————

Tommy walks away from Bloodlust, when he feels his hair fall into his face a bit.

He pushes it back and readies himself to jump onto the roof.

Run, jump, land, don’t fall.

Light footsteps hit the roof, only heard by himself and himself only.

The rhythm gives him time to think about the alliance he made.

Bloodlust, he has a faint memory of him saying something about vigilantes in an interview. He’ll look at that once he gets home.

He sees the sky lighten by the tiniest bit at the sight of the moon being uncovered by clouds, and turns to jump down to an alleyway and opens the sewer drain.

Almost all sewer drains in the further districts are connected.

He jumps down from the roof, not that high up. Easy.

He forgot one thing.

So once he hit the ground and his knees bent, a pain shot up to his side, sending him to the ground.

A light switch flicked in his mind.

Fuck.

He opens the drain as fast as possible and hurries down, seconds can be fatal if treated wrong.

He stands at the bottom, thin layers of water splashing as he hits the ground.

He grabs the bottom of his shirt and jackets and pulls up at his side.

Tommy takes the bandages off, peeling off his skin with red and brown staining the once pure white fabric.

The wound is now red, with greens and yellows further from the hit area and yellow-brown pus. He can see now that the cut is about an inch, luckily not near his organs.

Hopefully.

It’s been over 24 hours by now, stitches won’t do much.

But he could try.

He keeps a small sewing kit with him in case he rips his mask or clothes during parol. So he grabs it out of his bag and clicks open the case.

He then picks up a small, sharp needle and carefully attaches the thread. He takes off his shirt fully, keeping his mask on, and inserts the needle into his wounded, infected, skin.

It hurt like hell.

Tommy has to stop himself from crying, letting out only a groan as he makes the second stitch.

It ends up taking ten minutes for him to finish, ten minutes of pain and agony. Piercing through his skin with the small needle through greens and yellows and reds. He stays sitting on the ground for a bit longer, trying to summon the courage to get up and keep walking.

He hears footsteps approaching, so he grabs his beanies and stuffs his hair under, putting goggles back on.

He looks towards the faster approaching him, and sees a comforting figure.

Grian.

Tears almost form at the sight of him. Almost. Not quite yet.

Once Grian gets to him, he kneels down.

“Mellohi, what- are you okay?”

He grunts in return, not trusting himself to speak.

He is almost as silent as his footsteps, while his breaths are shallow and airy.

Not fully from the wound, from the panic attack caused by the cut.

“Mellohi, can you speak at all?”

“It hurts.”

“Okay, I know it does. Can you show me where it hurts?”

He feels like a child, getting a stomach ache and having to go to the mean doctors. Though there was one nice doctor, he couldn’t stay too long.

So Tommy points at his side, blood once again soaking the already stained shirt.

Grian takes his goggles of his own eyes and he can see a slight distress hidden within the deep brown.

“Can I look at it?”

There was a beat of silence between the two, a part of the question unspoken but still heard. Do you trust me?

“Yeah,”

Grain takes off his black leather gloves, pale scratched hands gently take the bottom of Tommy’s shirt and lifts it up.

There isn’t horror in his eyes.

There isn’t pity in his eyes.

There isn’t judgement in his eyes.

There isn’t disgust in his eyes.

There is only sadness.

Because even if Tommy never told Grian his age, his real name, his history, he still knew that he was young. And he was hurt.

He looked Tommy in the eyes, and took off his goggles. No one has seen Mellohi’s eyes or features before except the ones he trusts.

Grian knows that by the way his eyes look at him, a security being near him.

“Okay Mellohi, here’s what we’re gonna do. We can't go to the doctors but I have to clean this somehow. Can we go to my house just for a bit?”

Hesitation is evident. But so is sincerity.

Tommy looks at the bloody bandages on the floor and nods once again.

Grian picks Tommy up, not touching where he has his wings hidden. Tommy rests his head on Grian's shoulder. He likes having an older brother figure. It’s comforting.

“Mellohi I have a question, do you wanna’ call your friends and tell them you’ll be a little later.”

“Mmm”

He presses against his earpiece, holding it down for it to make a voicemail. Quietly, he starts to speak into the message.

“Hey guys, I’ll be a little later than normal, big man is finishing up a mission. See ya’ soon.”

He taps the earpiece telling it to send the message and goes back to trying to sleep.

“You can't sleep yet, we have to clean you up first.”

“Okay.”

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“Not really no.”

“How long have you had it?”

“I don’ know. About a day and a half?”

“Okay that’s not too bad, when did you notice the infection rise?”

“Just now.”

“Shoot.”

Grian puts him down for a second so he can look at what time it is.

Only about 3 am.

He had time to get to his apartment, it was only in district 85.

He picks Tommy up again and brings him to the surface, spreading out his colorful wings.

The sight makes Tommy miss using his own.

He leans more into Grian and prepares for being lift off the ground.

The air fills his senses, he feels free and secure. Held tight but gently.

He missed this. He enjoys the moments in the sky.

The wind rushing through his ears is a lullaby trying to take him away from the conscious pain.

Grian’s voice interrupts his thoughts, short-lived nostalgia washing away.

“Are you still good Mellohi?”

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”

“That’s good because we’re here.”

And with that They hit the ground with a soft thud, Grian skilled at landing and protecting Tommy from being jostled.

He hears a click and then a creaking door, and a light switch is flicked on.

——————

Things can change like a light switch.

In an instant a bright light will change into a room of darkness.

A room of darkness will change into a room of light.

In the bright room there will be a wonderful dinner. Chicken seasoned just the way you like it.

In the room of light you can sit down and charge your fork to get a bite and rip it open.

And salt will spill out of the now hollow chicken.

The salt will burn your tongue in the room of light.

You will spoon more into your now dry mouth. You don’t want to complain about the food do you? Because it’s a bright room. And you are being given food in the bright room.

Your mouth will fill up at some point, and now here you are. Stuck in a darkening room with a mouth filled with salt, choking you up.

You still need to get into a room of light first.

——————

Grian walks in and sets Tommy on the couch, going to grab what is most likely bandages and water.

Tommy looks around the quaint house, a nicer apartment building than the three vigilantes.

He felt bad, he didn’t want to get Grian’s sofa all bloody.

This probably isn’t the best way for Tommy to see Grian’s house for the first time.

The older illegal walks into the room with medical supplies and some crackers.

“Mellohi can you sit up for me please?”

Tommy does as the shorter says and adjusts himself on the sofa. Knowing what’s going to come next, he takes off his shirt so the wound is more visible then in the tunnels.

——————

There are more tunnels than you think Vigilante.

I always see you.

——————

Grian’s face darkens a bit, unnoticeable to someone not paying attention.

As much sadness is in his eyes, as well as before there is no judgement.

Grian grabs a warm washcloth with some soap on it and washes the area around the gash, keeping soap away from the gash itself. Grain gently looks at the wound to see if there are shards of glass or debris.

With satisfaction that there is none, he takes a non-soap soaked washcloth and damps through the wound itself, trying to clean it out the best he can.

He makes no comments about the stitches, as much as he probably would.

Once again the red sweater man grabs bandages from the first aid kit.

The roll comes undone, unraveling on the floor, and he starts to wrap Tommy’s abdomen.

“Is that too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.” He says with a grunt.

Grain chuckles, “Are you sure about that? You seem to have contradicted yourself.”

And Tommy laughs right back.

“What do you mean, that doesn’t sound like me.”

“That sounds exactly like you.”

“Why thank you, I try my hardest.”

With that, Grian is done patching up Tommy.

“Now Mellohi, you have to promise me something okay?“

Tommy is feeling more awake than before, he needs that energy from the crackers to get home.

“Shoot, boss man.”

“Keep taking care of yourself, call me whenever you feel the slightest need to. Replace those bandages and if it gets worse tell me.”

“Will do. I must be off now.”

“I can tell, big man big plans.”

“Words out of my mouth.”

Tommy grabs his stuff and puts his clothes back on, bickering with the older until he has everything he needs.

“See ya’ Grain.”

“It’s Grian, but whatever you say Mellohi.”

The door clicks once again, and Tommy walks out.

Now he’s gonna be honest for a second. He definitely could walk if he wanted to earlier but it was nice being carried.

He wonders if Ranboo and Tubbo are okay.

They’ve done so much for him, they deserve the world and more.

He decides to not go roof hopping, not risking his side's health again tonight. So he walks through the alleys to district 87 and finds the streets he recognizes by heart.

The dingy neon signs and lights make the street seem to wiggle in the last bit of summer heat they will receive this year. As much as Tommy likes the warmth, he loves the crisp air.

The walks under the fluorescent street signs, giving him a thought to gamble purely for the aesthetic. But that’s not really his taste.

Before Tommy knows it, he’s at his apartment complex. The hazy lights of his home shone down, almost menacingly.

He starts walking up the stairs, and grabs his house key from his pocket when the door flung open.

Uh oh.

It was Tubbo.

“Thomas Innit where the fuck have you been.”

Ranboo spreads behind Tubbo, making Tommy feel like he just got caught sneaking out by his parents.

“We were worried sick. Especially with your message,” Ranboo interjects.

Tommy stays in silence for a moment before being shooed onto the bed.

“Tommy, one: where are you hurt now. And two: is it already patched up.”

Tommy groaned at his apparent “mother”

“I’m fineeeee, I have bandages and everything.”

“Okay, now get changed, we wanna’ sleep.”

“Okay ‘Dad’.”

Tommy jumps back off the bed and gets changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth and hair, washing blood from his scraped hands.

He goes back into the three's shared room and lays in the bed, taking the third blanket they have for himself.

The bed plus the comfort of being with his friends lulls him to sleep, being whisked away by clouds of soft fuzz and sweet sugar.

——————

Where is the light switch right now?

How close are you to coming back to me?

It could be just you and me again, learning lessons and keeping you safe.

Come back to me Tommy, you must miss me.

It’s okay though, I’m never far away.

Literally.

Bad luck lingers around you vigilante.

The hole gets deeper.

——————

Chapter Text

While the three lay in bed they think it’s calm for now. Tommy is with them now, and not out on patrol with no place to reach them.

They are more naïve than they might think.

Because as they lay in bed, a man who is constantly watching them is doing exactly that and as much as a nice man in a red sweater tried, an infection in a wound gets deeper the more he moves around.

——————

Technoblade worries about the vigilante. As he watched them walk out of vision, he felt a small pit in his stomach. A gut feeling some would say. He decides to follow the vigilante, not to see where he lives just to make sure he’s safe.

Why does he follow this gut instinct?

It saved his life many times in hero work, and his families.

So the hero catches up to the vigilante, watches him jump across the building roofs. Every time Mellohi needs to land, Techno's heart skips a beat.

But every time he makes it.

He follows for a bit until the Illegal stops, him stopping in return. He looks at the ground and jumps, and Techno looks at the alley too.

He watches Mellohi hit the ground and stumble and fall into himself, the pit in Techno’s gut growing again.

Even with the face covering, the Vigilante gets visibly panicked and holds his side.

That must be the cause.

Mellohi brushes trash around from the ground and uncovers a sewer drain.

How did he know exactly where one was?

He opens it with ease, something most can’t do, and starts climbing down a ladder. A ladder in weirdly good shape. Techno eyes the alleys around him to see if there’s another opening.

He spots one on his other side.

The hero jumps down, hitting the ground with a light thud. Techno starts opening the drain, this one not being covered.

This one doesn’t have a ladder either.

The famed jumps once again, landing in a thin layer of water. They walk quietly to where Mellohi should’ve been but there’s a wall, more shoddily made than the others.

With skill and intelligence, he makes a small opening in the wall to see what is going on behind it, if anything.

And there he is.

The vigilante.

While his face and hair are covered, his shirt is off, and skin is torn with a nasty infection.

Before he can understand what’s going on completely, Mellohi takes a tread and a sewing needle out of his bag. He ties a knot with shaky hands.

He has never seen him look distraught before, but he is now. Even if he is barely showing it, it slips through the cracks a bit.

He starts threading the needle through his skin, a horrid sight to see.

It breaks the skin on the other side, he pulls the thread so the knot he tied hits his wound.

He tries to look through the small hole to see better, when he distinctly remembers fighting a familiar figure and hitting his side.

This is his bad, he guesses.

This is on him, guys.

Oops?

He decides this is where he should part, watching a person is generally viewed as weird. Common sense.

He hopes Mellohi makes it out safe, he worries for him. As much as Wilbur and the media tries to make him seem, he is not cold hearted and rude, he actually does have feelings and compassion.

Like a normal person! Wow!

He needs to tell this to Phil, he can help him.

They can figure this out.

——————

Ranboo wakes up first again, he is the usual early riser of the three. Tubbo wakes up usually around when Ranboo is brushing his teeth and Tommy wakes once he either smells breakfast or the other two wake him up.

He slithers himself out of bed like a long and lanky snake and walks to his closet, grabbing clothes out. Today he grabs a Hawaiian shirt he found at goodwill and jeans.

Putting on the jeans, he grabs a black shirt to put under the button up. He treads to the bathroom to start the running water to wash his face.

After, he grabs his toothbrush and minty toothpaste, spreading it onto his brush and scrubbing.

As expected, Tubbo comes out and his head rests on his shoulder blade.

“Mor’nin’” he slurs through a mouth of toothpaste.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, boo. That’s disgusting.” Tubbo replies in a jokingly-sleepy tone.

“Oh yea’, guess wha’ bee? Nevr’” He makes his words more slurred on purpose, trying to mess with Tubbo more.

“I’m disgusted. Go make me breakfast.”

Ranboo spits out the minty substance and washes it down with water.

“Fine, go brush your hair, you have bedhead.”

“Oh screw you too then, bitch.”

As he leaves the room the enderman laughs at his shorter friend. He goes to the kitchen to grab some muffin mix and bacon to make for breakfast.

Ranboo grabs all the ingredients the box says he needs and preheats the oven, starting to add all the contents.

Tubbo walks into the kitchen next, hair no longer standing up and his teeth brushed.

“Can I help ya at all?”

“Can you get the chocolate chips and bananas? I’m gonna see if I can turn the into banana chocolate chip muffins.”

“Awww my little chef.”

“I am almost a foot taller than you.”

“You are being so mean to me today.”

“Aw thanks, you’re too sweet.”

Tubbo hands Ranboo the last things and they’re popped into the oven. Next, they lay out bacon onto a pan so it can crisp up, keeping some pieces more fatty for Tommy.

He likes those parts better.

After a few minutes of banter the muffin and bacon is done, the smell drawing Tommy out of his sleep.

“I smell food?”

“Yes, that’s what this is. Congrats Tommy.” Tubbo replies sarcastically.

“I just woke up, leave me alone.”

“No thanks, but I’ll keep that in consideration.”

Tommy goes behind Ranboo to try and steal a piece of bacon from the pan when he hits the pan with his finger.

“Ah shit!” He exclaimed, holding his now burnt finger in his hands.

Ranboo chuckles, “Gosh darn it.”

They all sit down and get plates, Tommy complaining about his barely burnt hand the entire time.

“You know what Tommy?”

“What?” Tommy replies to Ranboo.

“We need some more groceries, can you go get some? That’ll keep your mind off your hand. “

“Fine, but only in spite.”

“Let's go! I don’t have to go get them!”

As Tommy leaves the door, he says, “Fuck you bitch!”

Hopefully this won’t be too eventful.

Chapter Text

——————

You’re funny, I will say that Tommy.

But humor me in person next time.

——————

Tommy speeds down the stairs, ignoring an aching in his side.

The metal steps rattle with every step he takes, the crisp air biting his uncovered face. He gets a plain red mask out and wraps it around his ears, going over his nose and mouth. Warm breath hits the face covering and it heats his face from the cool atmosphere.

He makes it about 4 steps before the bottom when he jumps over the railing to the concrete. Feet hit the ground in unison, knees bending at the contact.

It’s not too cold yet, but it’s colder than what they were used to, considering it just started getting cooler.

He taps his pocket to make sure he has his wallet and phone, he’d rather not have to get a new one just yet.

Tommy walks along the cracked sidewalk, grass and ants living in the space. His headphones are connected to the phone, songs playing through his ears.

It’s a wonderful day, he woke up with his friends alive and well, and he gets to enjoy a nice walk to get some food and have no eventful events happen.

He passes rundown apartment buildings with vines growing around the edges giving it a very homely look on the outside.

The vigilante looks down for a second just to see he was about to step in some kids' gum, and dodges it right on time. Call it fast reflexes.

You kinda need some of those when you're in his profession.

He makes his way to the underground, a sign indicating he was in the familiar Jubilee line. He pays his money to get on and keeps trotting on.

The station sits a few blocks from his apartment, so he is used to the underground well. While he waits for the train, he sits on a bench near the tube barriers and opens his phone up. He opens Twitter and goes to the “search” bar, typing in the keyword, “vigilante” to see what different peoples opinions on them were.

His happy mood turned spoiled like milk, he didn’t know what he was expecting but it was a tweet about him saying he was a bitch and bastard, nasty curses and slurs said against him.

Tommy knows not everyone will like him or condone what he is doing but it still feels like splashing boiling water onto your hand when you're cooking, not enough to impact you but still hurts.

It doesn’t have too big of an effect on him, though the impact is larger when he’s still tired and wounded.

He distantly hears a train rushing through the tunnels, the loud noise a contrast to his music. Within a minute the train is here and the doors are opening with a creak.

Tommy, among a small group of people, walked onto the train and picked a seat near the middle, across from a man in a dark green hoodie, face covered by a face mask as well as Tommy. The vigilante scans the train, looking at the people sitting and standing. The train starts to move again and he keeps looking around at people, guessing where they’re coming from and where they’re going.

He sits quietly, using music and the train rails skidding as background noise, and tries to profile his acquaintances.

Some faces are tense and others are gentle, some are nervous with their eyes flicking around the room.

You have two who are oddly calm, the man in front of Tommy and Tommy himself.

The train stops at district 20, showing that it’s his stop. He stands up and walks to the surface again, full of confidence. Chin up, chest slightly puffed out while still relaxed.

The cool air hits him more as he gets to the top, the world around him is cloudy and it might start raining soon.

Tommy loves the rain, it’s soothing and a calming background noise.

Before he can sit at home and enjoy it though, he has to get his groceries.

The whole reason he’s out here.

He walks a little faster to the shops and opens the doors to the local Tesco. Why did Tommy come all the way here you ask? Because he wants to also get a drink from Niki’s on his way home. Maybe stop at a bookstore.

Who knows, but today is gonna be a good day, Tommy can tell.

Tesco has colorful plates sitting on counters near the bags.

The vigilante grabs one and walks over to the food isles, grabbing random items of whatever the three of them like.

About 30 minutes later and only a few items left that are needed, Tommy sees another familiar face.

It was Wilbur’s apparent father.

Tommy kind of ignores it, but he can tell the man is glancing at him between isles as he grabs his last food-stuffs.

He walks to the self-checkout counter and scans all the items, getting out his credit card once all was done.

As he grabs one of the paper bags and shoves his stuff in, Wilbur’s father comes over to him.

“Hey, you’re Tommy right?”

“Yep, the one and only. I’m one of a kind, y’know?”

The man laughs at Tommy’s shit joke, “I can tell. Well, I’m Philza, but you can just call me Phil. I’m Wilbur’s father, as you probably know.”

“Yes I do ‘Za, I oughta get goin’ but I’ll see you around. You seem old, don’t die before then.”

The older blond laughs once more and walks away, leaving Tommy alone to his thoughts again.

Weird as fuck, am I right or am I right?

Tommy shakes his head, as if it would help him understand what happened.

Once again he finds himself walking to Niki’s bakery. The warm atmosphere surrounds the place as opposed to the chilling air around. The tables have solid tan-brown colors to make a softer feel to the place.

Unfortunately, Niki isn’t out today to get his order, a woman named Alyssa taking her place.

He tells her that he wants a white hot chocolate with extra sugar to make it more his taste. He slides the money over the counter and grabs his drink, going to his final location.

He spots Barnes and Noble and, once again, he walks in and goes to the second floor. He navigates himself to the mythology books, specifically Greek mythology.

He finds a book full of transcribed stories, including Icarus, Theseus, and Achilles. He reads the back to make sure it’s what he wanted when he notices someone else staring at him.

Wilbur’s brother.

The man walks over to him, a gruff voice coming out monotone.

“Hey, Wilbur’s Buddy, ay?”

“That’s me, I don’t know if that's what I’m known for though.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you- uh, uncomfortable?” He states questioningly, “I saw you getting some books on Greek mythology and got interested.”

“Oh no it’s fine mine, I don't really care. I have knives in my pocket. I'll just stab you to death if you do.”

“Woah there you don't even know me man, cmon. “

“I won’t hesitate bitch.”

“I can tell.”

“Well, big man, I better be going back home. See you around?”

“Yeah, see you around Tommy.“

“And by the way Tommy, just call me
Techno.”

Almost repeating Phil’s actions, Techno walks away with the same facade.

Shrugging it off once again., he goes to pay for his book. Somehow the coins he has in change fall from his hands. The same man with a green hoodie and face mask helps pick up the coins, he has a book about famous crime cases.

“Thank you man,” Tommy says appreciatively, “I don’t know how they fell out of my hands.”

The man only nods in response.

Tomm leaves the store and goes home on the subway again.

He goes home to spend it with his family, sipping hot chocolate.

——————

I slip one of the coins you dropped into my pocket, watching you leave the store.

You pass a painted, colorful plate full of donations to fund the library.

See you at home Tommy.

And I walk out the door, following far behind.

——————

Techno and Philza sit outside the bookstore watching Tommy go by, sipping their coffees and reading their book

“There’s something about him, I can't put my finger on it.”

“I can feel it too, piglin senses”

The two laugh and continue their tasks.

Who’s that man following Tommy? Technoblade wonders.

He should’ve spoken up.

——————

Colorful plates will break.

You will use them to decorate your deathbed.

Dig, dig, dig.

——————

Chapter Text

Tommy’s ride home was smooth, side still aching slightly. In his arms is a bag of food and house supplies, a book, and a hot chocolate.

He would say good day if not for the fact he kept running into Wilbur’s family, and that it was only about 4:00 PM. The day wasn’t over yet. He didn't notice, but a penny fell out of his pocket.

A small, unneeded detail of his life.

He also felt like there's always someone- there. Just always. Their presence seems lurking. He gets a sense of deja vu. Of what you may ask?

He doesn’t know.

And at 5:08, he’s home again. The metal rattles once again, making steps loud when he’s not careful. He knocked on the door, and almost immediately a brown haired figure came out to greet him.

The younger vigilante walks into Ranboo’s head in his hands and uno cards skewed through the surrounding area.

Tommy looks at Tubbo’s face, a wide grin spread across it.

“So. What did I miss?”

“Just some games of uno.”

“Ranboo looks like he’s gonna have a breakdown.”

“I never said it was friendly.”

The shorter looks at Ranboo again, and laughs a bit. They go sit back down at his seat to continue their game. The card is currently a blue 3.

Tubbo places down a +4.

Ranboo sighs and contains a scream of frustration.

Tommy laughs at himself as he puts away the groceries and gets out the ingredients for pasta. He takes a sip from his now lukewarm hot chocolate. He opens the cabinets once again to get spices for seasoning and starts to boil water in a pot.

As bubbles start to form, he pours the spaghetti noodles in and starts cutting up garlic and adding it to a bowl filled with the tomato sauce. He adds more spices and mixes until the pasta is fully cooked.

In the background, apparently Ranboo somehow had won their heated games.

“What?! I bet you, cheated, you asshole.”

As he says that, ironically, a card slips from his sleeve.

Ranboo takes notice immediately.

“So that’s how you’ve been winning! Who’s the cheater now?” He says as he eyes Tubbo up and down smugly.

Tubbo laughs loudly, no care in the world other than how he kept fooling Ranboo.

The pasta sauce sizzles in the pan. Tommy gets three bowls out, all mismatched in a sweet way. He strains the noodles and pours them into the bowls along with tomato sauce on top.

“Dinners ready!”

“Hell yeah!”

The two rush from the couch to grab the bowl with more. Once done fighting, the trio go to sit on the couch once again, circling around Tubbo’s laptop.

“So,” Ranboo starts, “what are we gonna watch? Or are we just gonna sit in silence.”

“Silence,” Tubbo adds.

“Oh!”

“Mhmm.”

Tommy grabs the laptop to open Netflix and see what show they decide to watch. Luckily for them, Tubbo made them a VPN so they ultimately decided on The Office.

Tommy would not let them just sit in silence. The Office theme starts playing and they all dig into their pasta.

——————

That’s a wonderful pick, Tommy.

That pasta looks delicious.

I’ll have you make it for me.

I rub the dropped penny in my hands, it has the L’manburg crest on it. The country you work so hard to protect.

I snap the coin between my fingers.

——————

By ten, Tubbo has fallen asleep and the dirty bowls are stacked in the sink. Leftovers sit in the fridge for tomorrow. The computer light has dimmed, becoming the only light in the apartment.

Tommy slips himself from the couch, going over to the fridge and getting out a can of coke. He puts on a pair of beat up vans and puts his hand on the doorknob when he hears the fridge opening again.

He looks back and sees Ranboo grabbing a can of sprite.

“I thought I would join you. It’s not fun being alone.”

Tommy smiles, and opens the door all the way as Ranboo writes a note for Tubbo in case he wakes up while they're gone.

Ranboo puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and teleports them to the roof.

They both sit on the edge, legs dangling off the edge. Two carbonated drinks pop open.

Tommy takes a sip first.

“So Tom, is it gonna be lighthearted conversations or serious? I’m fine with either Big Man.”

“I don’t know man, it depends on how we feel tonight.”

The stars seem to twinkle in the dark sky. They light up the two vigilantes' eyes.

“Do I ever talk about how it actually is kinda hard being a vigilante?”

Serious, he seemed to have picked.

“Not really, me and Tubbo don’t do our work out in the streets as much as you.”

“Can I talk about it now?”

“Of course Tommy.”

They say drunken words are sober thoughts, but sometimes you just don’t talk at all. Especially when you’re underage and hate the smell of alcohol.

And sometimes you do speak your drunken words when you're high off of the attention you’ve gotten recently.

“I love being a vigilante, but ever since I’ve gotten all the media attention it’s been, I don’t know. I’ve gotten so big that rumors make me seem like this terrible person.”

Ranboo nods along, sipping on his drink and looking over at Tommy while his eyes aim at the sky.

Tommy continues, “I’m ‘such a bad person’ the heroes will ignore their jobs to try and catch me! They literally didn’t do shit when there was literal child trafficking going on!”

A pause is heard.

“I wish I was smaller. Unseen, unknown. I need to make myself small again, so I can fit in the palm of the city's hand.”

Ranboo waits once more for Tommy to continue.

“Now Bloodlust wants to team up with me so he can help.”

Silence stills between them.

“Do you believe him?“

And for the first time in a while, Tommy admits he doesn’t know.

Tommy looks ahead of him at the wire, and two birds are sitting there. One red, one green and white.

The green one lets go, and the red stays.

The green looks at the red pitifully. Green flies over to the next wire over.

So close to the other but unable to reach him.

Tommy sips his coke. Ranboo does the same.

Tommy reaches for the stars as if they could be held in his hand.

“Ranboo I don’t know if I’m the person my younger self would like.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Both.”

“Elaborate?”

“If my younger self saw me he would’ve been scared. He would’ve been scared about what he did to me, about if he’s still around me. And if I’m being honest, I think he might be. I always feel like I'm being watched. It’s a sick sense, but I don’t know where.”

They hear metal rattling behind them.

“You’re talking about some heavy shit I see?”
It’s Tubbo.

“Yep, feel free to join us.” Ranboo speaks up.

“Of course.”

Tubbo pops open his drink, it being a can of root beer. He sits next to them, leaning against Ranboo.

“I heard about the last minute of your conversation, don’t worry about catching me up.”

“Okay Tubs.” The tallest said.

“Why don’t you take your wings Tommy? Everyone’s asleep right now.“

“They look like shit, they can’t be fixed.”

“So? At least let them have some air, we’re gonna at least try and make them better.”

With that, Tommy slips off his jacket, all his shirts having holes already for his wings. He unfolds them, aching as they have been in the same place for weeks.

The vibrant red has brown dried blood all over them, bones of them cracked and feathers ripped and burned from years of being worn down until being finally ripped. Half of the left wing being the culprit.

His friends don’t judge, they just want to help. Even with vague knowledge of what happened they have no disgust in their eyes. Tubbo moves from his spot to sit behind Tommy, threading through the unhurt parts of the wing to not cause discomfort to his vigilante friend.

“You know, if I ever could choose a new name I would love the name Theseus. I read about him in a book I got and he seems badass.”

“You’re becoming a Greek mythology nerd Tommy, beware.” Tubbo says with a yawn.

Sometimes you need to remember small things. Like how your friend likes their coffee or what their favorite candy is.

But sometimes what you need to remember isn’t clear, it’s blurry and hazy and seems unneeded. Like this, this minuscule detail that will change the fate of their lives.

If they don’t remember, they won’t get their friend back.

Because they don’t know Tommy’s real name. They think it’s Thomas.

And little do they know, their best friend's real name is Theseus.

In the distance, Tommy sees a familiar hero, Bloodlust. He looked around, looking for someone.

It could be him.

Well not him, Mellohi.

“Guys, I think Bloodlust is looking for Mellohi,” Tommy says in the third person.

“Well what are you waiting for, get your damn suit on and get out there.”

“Thanks Tubbo, you're so sweet to me. Ranboo can you teleport us down?”

“I feel like I’m only used as a form of transportation.”

“You are!”

“Tubbo, your opinion is unneeded after you cheated in Uno.”

Tubbo laughs, and Ranboo teleports them all down to their apartment.

Tommy rushes to his room to get dressed, slipping on his bloodstained shirt, pants, jacket and gloves.

He rushes out the door, saying goodbye to his friends as they start to make tea and put on The Office again.

“Bye!”

“Don’t forget your mask dammit!”

Tommy’s shoes skid against the floor, and he rushes to get the goggles and face mask.

He slips it over his mouth and his eyes, and goes out the door once again, slowing his steps so they are unheard once more. He climbs to the ground and goes a bit further to not give away his location to the hero yet.

He goes about a block and climbs on a roof, going back to his usual routine.

Run, jump, land.

Run, jump, land.

Run, jump, land.

He stops once he sees Bloodlust once more, straightening his posture and keeping his chin up.

He nods to him and he walks over to him.

In the corner of his vision, a man wearing a mask with a smile on it flashes.

He snaps his head over, the image burning into his mind.

The smile is jagged and messy, and Tommy feels sick to his stomach.

He’s here. He’s watching him.

He’s after him again.

He knows.

Chapter Text

Sitting at the Hero HQ is Philza. The famous hero, known for large wings and a caring demeanor even with the name “Death’s Father”.

The man is thinking.

Technoblade is on patrol right now, trying to talk to Mellohi and take down whatever scheme they think might be going on.

Techno trusted him, wholeheartedly. And Phil trusts him back. But he doesn’t know how to feel about the vigilante, he’s trying to keep an open mind because he is suspicious. Just the other day he killed a man!

Speaking of that, he pulls out the footage of what happened and slows the tape down.

The camera is shaky, as it was attached to his chest. He watches footage back from when they entered the building, trying to see if any more information came out.

To be honest, it was meant to be done yesterday but Phil and the others were busy with meetings and patrol.

It was normal for the first minute or two, until the vigilante came out of his hiding.

That by itself baffled the heroes, why would he just leave hiding? He wasn’t sure, but then the footage came up.

The figure of a man and child, child now obviously in distress. Mellohi ran up to the man and got the child, which Phil remembers was an arctic fox, small and hurt.

That’s why he came out of hiding.

To help a child in distress? While the cause is unclear, what was clear now is the hateful look when Phil exclaimed, “he killed a man!”

Philza continued to watch, but nothing else really came out.

Niki walks into his office, hanging around the door.

“Hey Phil? Do you know how long Fundy’s going to be on leave?”

“To be fair I don’t even know why he’s out. I was never told” The man says with a laugh. He sips his coffee

“Apparently he adopted a kid, though it did seem pretty sudden.”

Phil almost spits out the warm liquid.

“Wh-what?”

The blond haired woman laughs, “The shock on your face is worth a lifetime. He said he would let us all see them when he’s all settled.”

“That- I don’t know what to say. I’ll give him some father to father advice once I get the time.”

Sending him a smile, Niki said, “I’m sure he’ll love that. See ya’ ‘round Phil!”

“You too Niki,”

——————

Techno is confused, to say the least.

Mellohi just froze in front of him, his body becoming tense and distraught.

“Mellohi?”

A shaky breath can be heard from behind the thick mask.

“Yeah?”

“Are you- are you good?”

——————

Trust is a very valuable thing.

You give it out so easily, you’re starting to trust these people you don’t even know.

You can only trust me. I don’t lie to you, I don’t deceive you. I’m honest.

You dish out your trust on colored plates, pinks and blues and oranges that can shatter and break if handled wrong.

But of course you trod along, digging a hole to your own demise.

——————

The vigilantes head turns to Techno, face completely covered but dull with lifeless emotion.

“Yeah.”

That is obviously a lie, anyone could pick that up. But what is harder is having to figure out what could be wrong based solely on body language, while not being able to see the features of the person your profiling.

Technoblade doesn’t know the vigilante personally yet, so he doesn’t push. All he can do in his situation is try to crack their shared mission.

“Okay then. I have a small mission here from a few days ago but there is a slim possibility that it could lead to something bi-“

Techno blade gets cut off by Mellohi, “Not here. We can’t talk here.”

“Is someone here?”

“Let's go Bloodlust.”

The illegal’s responses are short and clipped, straight to the point.

Nevertheless, he follows. He follows while they jump down to darker, shadier alleys to wherever the vigilante is taking the hero.

He seems alert, more alert than usual.

Paranoid, that’s the word.

His head is always turning, checking the surroundings.

Mellohi stops in front of a drop of point, it’s steep and muddy, with a wooden platform built into the side shoddily.

He jumps down and lands, resting a hand on their side as they wait for the hero to jump down and join him.

“What are you waiting for? Jump you pussy.”

And so he does, within a second the two are standing on the ledge.

“Continue, what were you saying about a mission?”

“I have the files from a drug deal a few days ago, but I think it might be linked to something bigger. Though the possibility is slim since it’s an almost insignificant trade in hindsight.”

“What’s in the files?”

“Photos, details, etcetera.”

“Let me see.”

While Mellohi sits on the ground Technoblade drops the files to the ground in front of him.

Mellohi slides them closer, opening the folder carefully.

There is barely anything inside, which explains why it probably wasn’t reported. The younger looks at one of the photos carefully, examining the hazy image.

“I haven’t looked at them too carefully, I wanted to look through them with you.”

Mellohi looks up from their extensive information. Mask covering all emotions besides the tilt of a head.

“Aw, you seem to have grown to like me, big man. Big bad bloodlust cares about the coolest vigilante to ever exist. To be fair I would too, but-“

Mellohi looks down in the middle of their sentence, and takes off their goggles to reveal electric blue eyes with a shocked, horrified expression.

“Woah, eye reveal-“

“Shut up, wait. Wait, shit shit shit shit.”

He murmurs the curse on and on.

“Mellohi what is it?”

Technoblade sits down on the floor with the other and sees where the other was pointing to.

A camera, with a green stripe on it.

“Why’s that so important?”

“Where was this trade?”

Urgency is conveyed, and Technoblade picks up on it.

“It was in a home in district 85, West Broadchester Street.”

“We need to go there, now.”

“Why? What did you find?”

“I’ll explain later. We need to get there as fast as possible.”

“I’m gonna trust you on this one Vigilante. I have ender pearls we can use.”

They both stand up and grab the pearls out of his bag. The blue and green sphere is held in his hands, glowing and ready to throw.

Technoblade puts a hand on Mellohi’s shoulder and the other slightly tenses, but the hero ignores that detail for now. He throws the pearls, laughing them through the air in an instant.

The pattern repeats like history, throw and land until they reach the street.

It’s completely abandoned.

Mellohi is solely looking at house 709.

“It’s in there.”

“How do you know that?”

“Trust me.”

The two walk over, rushing to push the door open. Mellohi curls his arm to his side to ram into it and, with barely any force, falls off the hinges.

The vigilante once again rests a hand on his other side, opposite the one he rammed into the door with.

Techno remembers back to the night he saw the same boy in the sewers with a badly infected wound across his side.

That’s why he’s been resting his hand there.

Mellohi frantically walks to the bathroom where the trade happened. Techno starts behind for a second checking through the mess of bloody carpets and broken glass.

He hears Mellohi back into a wall aggressively.

“Mellohi?”

Technoblade walks over and sees he has something in his hands.

“What‘s that Mellohi?”

No response.

“Mellohi what does that note say?”

A choked breath falls out of his mouth.

He hands the note to the taller one, and needless to say they’re confused.

There isn’t anything on the blue besides the house number and a green background.

“What does this mean Mellohi?”

He gets no personal response, only strings of no murmured under his breath.

The vigilante leaves the bathroom running around the home.

The hero follows, confused and unsettled as to why he’s so upset about this.

What does this mean? He’s never seen the vigilante so stressed, so worried, so human.

He’s always seemed like some kind of phenomenon, silent but there, the charismatic childish character.

He’s not supposed to be this fucking distressed about 3 numbers and the color green, right?

Mellohi is finding cameras all over the home, all painted with a streak of green.

He smashes every one, leaving no chance to work again.

“Mellohi are you okay?”

His eyes are still uncovered. He allowed Techno that trust to see a part of him. But at this point Techno didn’t want to see his eyes. He didn’t want to see how horror filled and distraught they were.

The plain fear is conveyed in hazy, clouded eyes.

“Tomorrow. We are going to meet at where I took you tonight. I have the next place we need to go.”

“Mellohi please give me some information, I need to understand what’s going on.”

His dulled blue eyes look into Techno’s.

“This is something so much bigger than I thought. It’s all crashing down.”

A silence is settled in the broken down home once more.

Mellohi continues their sentence.

“If anything happens, remember the name Theseus.”

“Why?”

“Bad things might happen. Remember the name Theseus. Please.”

“I- sure. Of course.”

“You can't tell anyone yet, okay? No one. Not even your hero friends. I know that’s kind of your job but please. You’ll know once you should tell them. But Not. Yet.”

Technoblade nods, Mellohi doing the same.

“I’m trusting you Bloodlust. This is so much bigger than you think. I can't tell you too much ‘cause then I’m gonna be in more danger than before. I trust you. Can you trust me?”

His voice is so raw, so bare. It’s hurt and dry and in pain.

He keeps his eye contact with Mellohi when speaking, only stopping to look at the discarded goggles laying on the others head and then back down to lightning blue eyes.

“I already do.”

Mellohi rests his head on Techno’s chest for a moment, the scene is so fragile and soft.

He pushes away and checks the time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Bloodlust.”

“See you tomorrow Vigilante.”

The illegals of the two rushes out the door at a speed almost impossible to man.

There leaves Techno, standing in the living room and hoping the boy will be okay.

Theseus.

——————

Tommy pushes the door open and walks to the bathroom so he can fall asleep with Tubbo and Ranboo.

The bathroom door creaks open and Tommy flicks the switch on, looking at the mirror.

Horror strikes.

No.

No no this isn’t real.

Please say this isn’t real.

The mirror, in red writing, is a message. A message saying, “I miss you Thomas.” in messy letters with the numbers “709” under it.

Fuck.

Tommy’s head is spiraling, his chest feels heavy and his eyes dull.

He wets a cloth and whips the message off, red smearing onto the blue fabric.

He’ll talk to Tubbo an Ranboo about this in the morning. Tommy feels like he’s gonna pass out.

And for once, Tommy feels unsafe in his home.

He needs to be with the boys in the other room. He doesn’t like to admit it but he needs comfort.

He’s scared.

Tommy changes as quickly as possible before sliding into bed and singalong against the two older boys.

Ranboo wakes up.

“Tommy- are you okay?”

The voice is groggy with sleep.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?”

“Of course.”

And with that the two are asleep, under the blankets while the youngest tries to forget what happened.

——————

Sirens sound in my ears.

It’s usual where I am, in the heart of the city and at the top suite of the HQ tower.

I flip a red lipstick bottle in my hands.

The same one is used on your mirror.

I miss you.

But don’t worry we’ll, talk again soon.

Your trust will shatter into a thousand pieces. It’ll shatter like a punched mirror into the grave you're digging.

Dig.

Dig.

Dig.

——————

Chapter Text

Ranboo, as always, wakes up first. He remembers Tommy had to tell them something, but he’ll wait until he wakes up. He hasn’t been getting enough sleep with his patrols as it is.

He slips out of bed, a routine part of his morning, something that’ll always be a constant. Tommy at his side, and Tubbo on the other. He stands to his feet, thankful for the socks on his feet blocking out the cool hardwood floor. He walks over to the dresser, pulling out his group of drawers and grabs his clothes for the day.

He pads over the bathroom, hand twisting the brass knob. The door swings open slowly, and he reaches over the light switch, turning on the lights to the dark room.

His head turns toward the mirror and his hand drops the clothes it held.

In the mirror, smudged and messy, was a red smile. It was written in red lipstick, melted around the edges making it seem as though it was spilling blood.

His eyes are wide, his body is tense, and fear is striking his head.

Though he didn’t experience as much as his blind friend did, the man in green still twisted his mind and limbs. Ranboo remembers all the bruises that would bloom and all mental scars, some still affecting him in minuscule ways.

His back hit the wall harshly, eyes still locked on the smile.

“Hey Ranboo you good? I heard a c-“

Tubbo’s voice stopped once he reached the door, fear settling in his bones as well.

“W-what?” His now shaky voice questioned, strained with horrifying realizations.

“I-I don’t know. I woke up and it was just,” Ranboo had to take a breath, “there.”

“We need to wake up Tommy and talk about this.”

Tubbo has to help Ranboo regain his strength to move, so they could walk to they’re shared room.

——————

Blood dripped from my hands as I added it to my lipstick container.

I’m going to need more soon if I want to keep sending you messages, Vigilante.

The blood thickens in the container, filling it up with a lipstick like consistency.

It’s a careful craft I have perfected, as I have with many of my hobbies.

——————

The two walk to their room, legs shaking threatening to give out under them.

They sit on their bed, shaking Tommy at his shoulders to try and wake him up.

Tommy knows they wouldn’t wake him up unless something happened.

And with that fact, Tommy sat up, and remembered the events that happened last night. It hits him like a truck, and he wants to immediately sputter to get all of what happened out of his mouth.

He’s stopped by Ranboo speaking first and Tubbo looking around nonstop.

“Tommy- we have a problem. I woke up and went into the bathroom and-“ Tommy’s heart almost stops beating right then and there. He knows what he’s going to say next.

“- the mirror had his smile on it! I haven’t-“

He cuts Ranboo off there, “Shit! I should’ve told you immediately- FUCK.”

His head falls into his hands as Tubbo speaks next.

“Tommy what happened last night?”

“I went out to meet Bloodlust, and as I just got to him in the corner of my eye was a flash of green and white with his fuckin’ smile staring into me. So I knew he was following me but when I got home I went into the bathroom and he wrote a message on the mirror- It said he ‘missed’ me with his damn sign off under it!”

“Tommy slow down take a breath-“

“and of FUCKIN’ course I went to bed after cus I felt like I was gonna pass out or some shit. I thought I was fine until tomorrow. I-I’m sorry.”

He says the last part looking up into his fellow vigilantes eyes, all of them filled with understanding and fear.

It’s a mutual feeling.

“Okay. It’s fine- we’ll just look around for cameras and other messages. We can’t talk here anymore. We have to have another space.

They all run up from the bed and start checking around the house, panic filling up their empty stomachs as they find a handful of cameras and listening devices, all painted with a strip of green.

——————

Techno sits in his office at the HQ, having to do work from the building instead of home today.

He spins a pen in his hand, not wanting to have to file all his paperwork.

He was about to actually start working again when some walked into his office.

Dream.

The unknown hero, not existing to the media or the world around him. His whole purpose is undercover work, infiltration, as you will.

While techno is number one, Dream is number two.

He walks in and leans against the door.

“So Techno, how’s the looking for Mellohi going?“ His voice is smug, and Techno can sense the smirk under his mask.

“I haven’t found anything yet, no. I’m looking. What about you huh? You got here pretty late today? You don’t live across the districts.”

Dream laughs.

Arrogant bitch.

“I slept in, give me a break man.”

He’s suspicious.

“I better be getting to my work now, see you ‘round Tech!”

As he walks out and slams the door shut, Techno mutters something about not being called that under his breath.

He decides he wants to go back to his suite, he can’t concentrate on his work anymore.

He treads out, walking to the elevator to the first lobby.

The button turns red once he presses it, illuminating Techno’s finger before it leaves the surface.

The hero leans back, onto the wall of the descending box.

He finally hits the floor, watching the doors slide open and let him through.

He walks past the reception desk, waving over to the receptionist, George.

While George is a hero, he spends a lot of his time working in the reception desk, working with human files and that area.

A kind man really, under the alias of Fungus.

There have been way too many “Fun guy” jokes made, in Techno’s opinion.

But he continues on.

The building across from HQ was his home from the heroes. Technoblade and his family reside at the top, overlooking the bright and wonderful city.

The beauty blinds the faint, and aggravates the citizens under unfair rule in the same country.

The elevator seems to go miles into the air, only stopping at the most grand penthouse.

The elevator stops the top apartment, the door slowly sliding open and letting Techno in, leading him to the kitchen and living area.

Sis Philza in the middle making some kind of breakfast which techno smells to be bacon and cinnamon oatmeal.

“Ah, Techno. Want some breakfast?”

“Sure, where’s Wilbur?”

Phil makes his older son a plate of bacon and a bowl of slightly sugared oatmeal.

“He’s still asleep, he’ll be out once he smells the food.”

Technoblade starts shoveling the food into his mouth, looking out the window into the streets below, it’s a far drop. The top of the tower has its perks.

Soon enough, Wilbur walks out of his room in pajamas and an old shirt he never wore with messy hair and a brush in his hands.

“Looking good Wilbur, ready for the day I see?”

“Techno shut your damn mouth.”

“Woah. Aggressive.”

His twin sits across from him at the island, gesturing for Phil to give him a plate of food.

As Philza fills his bowl and plate he brushes through his hair.

Techno continues eating, when his mind wanders to Mellohi’s eyes from the night before.

Electric blue, they could give the whole city power. They seemed to dull once the horror hit him, and it was a sorrowful sight.

“Once I get dressed an’ shit I’m gonna’ go get something to drink at Niki’s, wanna come with me Techno?” Wilbur says, food in his mouth as he blunders his words.

Techno, being a decent being, swallows his food before he speaks, “Nah, I’m busy Will sorry,”

“You sure you don’t wanna actually get work done? You’re still hero’s ya’know.” Phil chimes in, trying to get Wilbur to actually do this job.

The younger twin nods aggressively, as if he was a little boy being left alone at the mall for the first time.

But he’s a 24 year old man and they are going to a cafe they go to almost everyday.

Wilbur finishes his food and goes to his room once again to change.

“You have something you want to say, don’t you?”

“You know me too well.” Techno starts to wash his plate and cup, rinsing it under water and soap.

“Well, what is it?”

“We have to talk once Wilbur leaves, he hears ev’rything.”

“Ah,” the older man nods, continuing to look at his phone.

Once again, Wilbur rushes out of his room, snatching a corduroy jacket before leaving.

“Talk to me Tech.”

“It’s about Mellohi.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we are meeting again tonight and he was obviously distressed once we looked through the location.”

“Did you find anything there?”

“I didn’t really, Mellohi did on the other hand. Cameras, a note, other off putting things like that.”

“Woah, what was in the note?”

“I don’t know! He wouldn’t tell me! But he looked horrified. It seemed to be something privately addressed to him.”

“How did you find what house it was?”

“I was looking at the structure, but Mellohi knew it from the number. Immediately.”

“That’s… suspicious.”

“It didn’t seem like he knew the house though, he just knew the number.”

“Okay then, why are you meeting up with him so soon?”

“He told me to,” Techno crafts his sentences carefully, trying to to give away what he isn’t supposed to, “he has a new location we need to check out.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to be there? He sounds like he might be setting up something.”

“Trust me Phil.”

“Okay.”

He trusts Techno, and Techno is trusting him.

Techno is starting to get attached.

God damn it.

——————

709.

709.

709.

709.

I repeat it in my mind, the number is just music to my ears.

Almost as angelic as the screams of you, Thomas. Like when I tore your poor little wings.

You cried and cried, it was so pitiful.

You seem to be starting to like Wilbur huh?

You’ll feel the sting of betrayal, the hot knife through a cold heart.

You just seem to have bad luck, Vigilante.

I’m carving out your coffin, it’ll be used soon enough.

——————

Chapter Text

Three vigilante boys still panic around the apartment to try and get take down all of the watching and listening equipment. When you’re 17, you shouldn't have to worry about cameras and being followed, but some people aren’t lucky. Some people are doomed to bad luck and miss fortune all of their life. An unfortunate fate, but a fate that must be taken.

It’s painful that they have to see each other in such panic, such a worry, that it breaks them down from the inside. Their once warm breakfasts and waking up to domestic scenes crumbled as the sun’s rising woke them up, their food has turned to mold in spoiled milk and rotting candy. It’s no longer a gentle comfortable silence, it’s now tense and thick as viscous honey with pinches of horror and sorrow.

It’s pitiful, knowing that across the city is a family of three whose lives are so much better, that they get those warm breakfasts and comfortable silence, lighthearted jokes passed between the three. It seems as though the vigilantes don’t get that same happiness as the heroes do. So now in the middle of the living room is a pile of cameras and various listening devices extracted from around their small apartment and three terrified teens in the center of it all.

How long have they been watched? How long has their privacy been invaded and rotted from the inside?

While the panic still seeps into the bones of the seemingly brothers, it’s not the only thing that seeps to their skin. Because Tommy still has a bright red and yellow infection on his stomach and side abdomen to the back that if you don’t get treated soon it’s going to come severe and fatal. They need to find someone that can help him because they don’t have professional care that he may need to fix it up so that their brother could be okay.

Tommy, Ranboo, and Tubbo all gathered in the living room once more to try and gather their thoughts and talk about what happened.

No words seem to be coherent, no matter how much they wanted to say and what they needed to. Nothing connected.

So there they sat, in silence, in the middle of the floor. The world crashing around them. Nothing was right. They all seemed to be standing on a wire, falling off and holding on with one hand. Their hands burn, and two are stronger than the one. One has had so much done to them, so many people wronging them and hurting him that he wants to slip off the wire as do sliced wings off of bloody skin.

The same sliced wings on his back. He wants to slip off as did the crimson reminder of pain and torture. The same blood flows down arms and broken noses and gouged out feathers. But the teens sat trying to give each other comfort with no words and seeking it as if they’ve been starved of it their entire life. To be fair for a second, mostly likely they haven’t, they’ve been robbed of something that every child should experience.

Well it may not be as appropriate as talking about it and figuring this out, the one with sliced wings speaks first with words so simple that they mean the world to the others.

“Wanna go to Niki’s?”

Ranboo and Tubbo look up at Tommy, and stand up on their wobbly legs. They walk through the day together. They will go to the dresser and pick out clothes, they go to the bathroom and brush their teeth, and they will tie their shoes and walk out the door and to the strangers and onlookers it will look like nothing is different, nothing is wrong.

But to the three it’s not just a normal walk, it’s not just a normal day, but they are giving each other silent comfort and doing their mundane tasks to give unspoken words of encouragement. They are making full conversations with no conversations at all. They were sitting on a bus full of people who were chatting and listening to music as the teens just sat, hand resting on hand pretending there were no sounds around them.

The bus ride is long, it seems to drag on longer than usual. Tubbo, Tommy, and Ranboo’s hands are resting on each other still, showing that they are there and they are safe.

A man with blond hair and green combat pants walks up to them, reminding Tommy slightly of a man he never wanted to see. Though that’s probably because he thinks of him whenever he sees a blond white man in his 20s wearing green.

“You teens don’t seem to be talkative for your age, something on your mind?”

Now they have to deal with weird people coming up and asking them questions all the time, but this man had some kind of smugness hidden in his voice. Even during panic Tommy is smart, and he recognizes someone suspicious when he sees them.

He gives the man a glare, something between disgust and suspicion in his eyes.

“Bad mood huh? You gotta enjoy life while you can, kids.”

He unwraps a lollipop and sticks it in his mouth, glancing at the kids as if they were pets in a zoo.

They didn’t know him. They’ve never met him.

Right?

“Well if you’re gonna be so silent, I’ll leave. We’ll meet again, Illegals.”

He walks away with a wave over his shoulder off the now opened doors, his spiky eyes digging into Tommy’s numbing body.

”Illegals?” Ranboo says, voice slightly wavering.

So quiet the word was compared to the chatter of the train, the Illegals' eyes and bodies turned to stone. Hands squeeze around hands as their train eventually meets their stop at district 18.

Three pairs of shaky legs leave the train, having to now mask all of their worries and superstition. It’s a walk to the bakery that’s full of glances around their shoulders and heart stopping the smallest flashes of green clothing.

They enter the bakery and sit near the back in an excluded corner, but now Tubbo speaks immediately when they settle.

“We have to stop being superstitious. Freaking out isn’t going to help us. We’ve been hurt, we’ve killed, we’ve fought all of our lives. Being fucking pussies isn’t going to do anything. He is after us and we know it, we just have to be vigilant now. We’re fucking vigilantes, we have to get it to-fucking-gether.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Tubbo curse this much but he’s right.”

“Damn you Ranboo. This is serious.”

“I’m trying to help lighten the mood.”

Tommy sits for a moment while Tubbo and Ranboo bicker for a moment, the lightheartedness refreshing.

Though he still decides to speak up next and interrupt.

“You know he’s after me guys. I’m just putting you guys in danger. I’m sorry.”

He flips a pocket knife in his hand waiting for the other twos’ responses.

“Tommy- we’re in this together, we don’t care. The thing we do care about is you.”

“Ranboo’s right Tommy. You don’t deserve this, so you’re not going through it alone.”

Tommy rests his head on his folded arms, snapping the knife closed.

They were about to say more words as soft as clouds, when Tommy’s new found friend approaches them.

“Oh hey! I didn’t expect to see you guys here, ay?”

Tommy lifts up his head, cheeks slightly flushed from the heat rise to his face when he smashed his head onto sweater-clad arms.

“Oh, hey Wilbur.”

He raises an eyebrow at his tone, it’s not as enthusiastic as usual.

“Are you guys okay? You seem, uh- disturbed? Troubled?”

Tubbo pipes up from the seat across from Tommy, “Its been a rough day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that? Can I sit down with you kids?”

“Sure Wilbur,” Tommy slides down to the side of his booth so Wilbur has room to sit down.

Tommy looks down at Wilbur’s shoes, which are Doc Martens, since they were clamping the ground as he walked.

“You guys wanna talk ‘bout it?” He glances to the three teens.

“Not really Wil.” Tommy says as he puts his head down once more, closing his drained eyes just for a moment.

Ranboo looks at Wilbur over his mask and sees the tentativeness and mental analysis working through his head.

“Can I buy you guys a coffee?”

Tubbo nods, and Tommy groans from under his sleeves.

Ranboo laughs slightly, “What’s wrong Tommy?”

“I don’ like coffee.”

“Well it doesn't have to be coffee, it can be anything. I was using it as a general term.“

“Shut the fuck up Wilbur. But I would like a hot chocolate please.”

“That’s perfect Tommy. What do you two want?”

Ranboo speaks first this time, “Can I have a Caramel Latte?”

“Sure, what do you want- uh,”

Tubbo interrupted him, replying calmly and collected. “Tubbo. And I would like a coffee with a shot of vanilla.”

“Sounds perfect Tubbo. I’ll be back.”

The three watch Wilbur walk away, keeping their words of planning to keep each other safe at only a whisper.

“We can't talk about this now, we’ll talk more later, okay? We’re sticking together.”

Ranboo’s voice is stern but conveys what he needs to say in a perfect way.

They spend their time waiting for Wilbur drawing on napkins and flicking ripped pieces of paper at each other, pretending they aren’t being constantly watched and listened to by a psychotic man who has a terrifying dedication to keep their friend ‘safe’.

‘Safe’ being in their cold lab, being tested on and hurt like an animal.

Not much longer, Wilbur comes back with four drinks in hand and a small brown paper bag.

He sets the drinks down at the table, opening the cafe’s bag and distributing seemingly chocolate chip muffins for the teens.

Tommy, being most accustomed to Wilbur, speaks first. “Thanks again Wilbur, do you want us to pay you back at all?”

“Don't worry about it Tommy, it’s my treat to all of you. You guys seem to be having a bad day.”

“Thank you, Wilbur,” Ranboo says, taking a sip from his drink.

Soon enough, they all have warm drinks in hand and a muffin on a napkin.

Unknown to them at the moment, across the shop is a man sipping his coffee in a green hoodie, staring daggers into Tommy’s head as if it were gold and down to his back where his precious wings are covered and bruised.

——————

I have so many new medicines to test.

Tools to use.

Knives to sharpen.

My coveted.

——————

The rest of their breakfast was as uneventful as their day could get, Wilbur was a stable and comforting presence to their morning. He seemed to radiate an older brother tone to Tommy, who he started to cling to at his side without even touching the man.

He hasn’t even known the man for a week and Tommy was starting to form an attachment.

They seemed to drag behind him on wet strings bringing along bad luck.

Though that wasn’t clear to him yet, he still had that lovely state of bliss filling his head. So he enjoyed the breakfast full of jokes and warm hot chocolate with Wilbur and his friends.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, tense, or quiet. It was comfortable and overflowing with unfunny quips and retorts.

But soon enough the three had to leave, and say their goodbyes to Wilbur.

“Thank you again Wil, seriously. See you soon, eh?” Tommy says, a grin on his face and blue eyes lighting up the room once more.

“Yeah, see you soon Tommy,”

Wilbur gives Tommy a hug before he walks off to catch up to Ranboo and Tubbo, and Wil slips something into Tommy’s hand.

“Call me if you ever need to , okay?”

Before he could get a word in, Wilbur starts to walk off towards the door.

Tommy catches up to his friends and they get onto the train once more to their unsafe home.

Tubbo puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder as they sit down, raising an eyebrow.

“Hit me Tubbo, what are you questioning?”

“What did Wilbur give you?”

“I don’t actually know, I still needa’ check big man.”

Ranboo, wanting to join the conversation, voices his thoughts as well, “You should probably check, we don’t want to be followed home.” He says, with a slightly joking tone.

Tubbo looks Ranboo in the eyes.

“Bad joke. Too soon. My bad. It was kinda funny though in my defense.”

Tommy opens his fist to see a crumpled piece of paper, which he unfolds with gentle hands.

It’s a note, with a phone number and the words, ‘Call me if you need anything, okay? -Wilbur’ written on it.

“It’s Wilbur’s phone number.”

“No shit Ranboo, want a gold star?”

“Yeah actually.”

“You don’t get one.”

“Gosh darn it.”

“We’ll, anyways, that was nice of him.” Tubbo says dropping their bit for a moment.

Tommy just hums in agreement, finding something so sweet to come out of such a bitter day.

——————

I‘ll get more cameras at some point, Tommy. No need to worry.

You get two days tops without me watching constantly, you must feel like a kid going to the mall alone for the first time.

Though I’m still watching you, just the old fashion way.

Back to my roots, so to speak.

Wilbur seems nice to you Tommy.

How long will that last?

——————

Chapter Text

Tommy sits in the apartment, silence ringing in his ears. His legs are strewn out in front of him on the shared bed, while Tubbo and Ranboo play cards at the end of said bed. Time ticks by, slowly, and the quiet clock seems to scream whenever it moves. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, does he pretend everything is just normal? Does he try to leave and give himself up before something can happen to his new attachments?

It stresses him, as does pulling on a rope in a game of tug of war. The rope pulls and pulls, until it gets too tired and snaps. Tommy is snapping, his head slumping against the headrest and eyes dropping closed like an old chest. He distantly tunes back into the world around him and hears no more of Tubbo and Ranboo at the end of the bed playing cards, they seem to be in the kitchen or bathroom. He raises his hands above his head, stretching out his stiff arms and sitting up to let his wings unfold. It was nice having them out, it was like a breath of relief.

He lets his arms fall down to his side, and feels a pain in his hands grow. It feels like a knife dragging into his skin dully. He knows what that feels like vividly.

Tommy shivers at distant memories fluttering in his mind like butterflies.

He looks down at his cut hand covered with now yellows and purples and reds, and once more, his eyes blur out. Head once more becomes hazy at what he sees. Carved in his hand with what would be akin to a dull butterknife is a bloody and jagged smile. He didn’t get the mercy of a sharp meat knife. He goes back into a dissociative state, the world falling around him from the corners, and seems to watch the world from 3rd person.

Tommy’s eyes jolted open, waking him up from a nightmare that seemed so real. Ranboo and Tubbo are on the floor now, he can only see their heads. The room is dim with the light of the moon reflecting onto the three.

He had things to do tonight.

They weren’t stupid. Of course they aren’t. It’s not apparent to the eyes of blurred onlookers and the amateur police force of this forsaken town, but these vigilantes have studied and fought more than they ever had. They know the law, and they know it well. The three understand more than most. Different skill sets and abilities distributed among them as if the gods were in their favor for this part of their lives.

They all share the skills, but have one or two superior to the others.

Tubbo, deadly chemicals on top of a computer wired mind. A powerful combination, as they can make the most threatening bombs known to man if granted the right money.

Ranboo, a genius of law and strategy with a way of making things right or wrong to the ears of others, talking his way out of any situation even with social anxiety.

Tommy, strength. One word that describes all his elevated abilities. Strength in mental and physical aspects. His mind is inhabited with knowledge and stamina while his veins are full of muscle and fighting.

A trio, and a powerful one at that. How do you think that they got an apartment at 17? How do you think they got out of schooling without parents there to sign off?

They are all smart, incredibly so. They know they can’t do anything about being followed by the shadowy green man of their nightmares in the present moment. So they research and train and go through their normal lives knowing their words are guarded.

Tommy looks down at his clock. It’s only 9:00 PM. They haven’t been on patrol together in a while and Tommy doesn’t have to meet with Bloodlust until midnight, meaning they have 3 hours to fuck around.

With the darkness crowding the room, Tommy breaks the silence.

“Wanna go on a patrol together?”

Tubbo and Ranboo slighting jump from their seat by the window, faces illuminated with the moon light smile.

“Of-fucking-course!” Tubbo says, probably too loudly for the building they’re in.

They stand up and walk to the closet, opening a compartment hidden beneath the closet where their gear and suits lay.

Moving the clothes overhead, they bend down and grab the various fabrics and leather that adorned them comfortably.

They split into respective rooms, Tommy in the bathroom, Tubbo in the bedroom, Ranboo in the closet.

The vigilantes are used to having to change fast, it’s a normal thing to them. So naturally, they had shoes tied, faces covered, and weapons equipped in under 5 minutes.

Tommy, the last one left to finish getting changed, is still in the bathroom. He can’t stay for long though, no matter how much he regrets suggesting the idea. He is looking in the mirror raising his shirt to look at bandages again. No matter how much he tried to ignore his problem it only increased. The redder it grows, the more painful it becomes.

“Tommy! You okay big man?” He hears Ranboo call from outside.

Tommy takes a breath, he watches his chest and his bandages rise and fall.

His strength is vast, he won’t be knocked down by petty matters like this. His downfall won’t be doomed to a measly cut that was administered by someone he now considers an ally. A friend, even.

That would be pitiful, a cake filled with bad luck that when a slice is taken out, it flows and floods the room around.

He lets his grip on the bottom of his still-stained shirt go and covers his abdomen. He opens a lid of pain relievers and puts two in the palm of his hand, and slams it over his mouth. He looks at his face in the mirror, and is satisfied with the goggles and also that lay on top.

“Yeah! I was just zoning out, sorry!”

He opens the door and flicks the lightswitch, leaving the bathroom and the apartment with his fellow vigilantes.

—————

I wait, and I watch.

Downfall is unexpected, it yearns to be painful.

So I wait, and I watch.

—————

“So big men, what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know Tommy, maybe help people?” Tubbo replies, sarcastically nonetheless.

“Yeah, I mean that is what patrol is.”

“You two are so rude to me. I try to do something nice and this is what I get? For shame. I-“

Tubbo pulls out a small computer, one he engineered so it could be portable and most useful for patrols while Tommy continues his sentence.

“-was thinking we could just fuck around yknow? Cause some damage, try out some smoke bombs and new weapons. Cool shit, yeah?”

Ranboo hums, and Tubbo looks at Tommy through his goggles.

“Well, we can do that after. Just got word of some crime in the area.”

“Well damn it. Let's go kick some ass, yeah boys?”

Ranboo laughs, and looks over to Tubbo’s computer.

“We should just go through the tunnels, it’s a few districts away.”

“You’re right Walker, let’s get going.”

“Woo! The vigilante boys are back at it again! The crime boys!”

The three laugh, and get on their way to the hidden tunnels.

—————

Tunnels.

Tunnels.

Tunnels.

I know about my fair share of tunnels, Tommy.

I’m quick.

How do you think I’m so fast?

They help me watch.

They help me follow.

I have plans set up, you just don’t notice them.

Silly boy.

—————

The three make it to the area of crime quickly, speed and agility a skill they’ve adapted too with ease. The only problem with the computer though, is the fact that most of the time it isn’t able to tell you what kind of crime is taking place.

“Okay Mellohi, what’s the plan eh?” His horned partner asked.

Tommy surveys the area, it’s a convenience store that looks like nothing is happening. It’s just pitch black.

He walks slightly closer, still staying hidden in the shadows, and peers into the black windows. Once he was close enough, the glass is no longer dark, for it is completely see-through. Inside is a group of people with duffel bags and all black outfits.

At least it’s an easy case to start the night.

He waves Ranboo and Tubbo over, showing them the seemingly stereotypical criminals they’ve found.

Tubbo chuckles slightly, then Ranboo goes to his ‘I have to be the adult here’ facade.

“While they might seem like the classic stereotype, we can’t judge criminals by their appearance.”

“Fine fine, let’s go kick some ass.”

They check their voice changers, making sure they’re in place and pay their sides to feel the weapons attached.

Ranboo pears inside the glass door, green and red eyes once glowing, dimmed by sunglasses.

“They’re at the back of the room, behind the counter.”

“Thanks Walker, no shit.”

“Well maybe to you, Tubbo didn’t know that.”

“Well-“

“Guys,” Tubbo interjects, “c’mon, we gotta get going.”

Tubbo picks the door lock open and pushes the door open forcefully, allowing the three to barge in.

The vigilantes can now see the shop is lit up, and the criminals are in full light. One has hands with fire illuminating them with a bandana around black hair with a covered face while the other has a gold chain on his neck and eyes gleaming.

Fire hands send a trail of the red and orange leading right to Tommy and heating up his already warm body. Tommy stands out of the way, grabbing a water bottle and putting out the surprisingly full flame.

The one with the gold chain hits Fire Hands on the shoulder before he can try and hit them again, and something so subtle changes about them that Tommy can’t decipher it.

Ranboo teleports behind them and holds their neck, bringing their eyes back to meet his, which are now uncovered and traps them in a trance.

Ranboo’s trances only last a few seconds, paralyzing the people trapped. Tubbo and Tommy run behind the counter and grab their wrists and clamp them together with handcuffs and zip ties, specially designed so that they’ll block power for a few hours. They do the same to their feet and stand back about two steps

The trance ends and they fall to the floor, backs hitting the counter.

“That was easy. How did Fire Hands over here not fucking burn you?” Tubbo says, a casual tone creeping into his voice.

Tommy continues to tie up Fire Hands and Gold Chain as he speaks, “I have no idea, it seemed like he just tried to intimidate me or some shit. No one can intimidate me Fire Hands.”

Tommy says the last bit holding the man’s face is a cupped, mocking manner.

Ranboo laughs, “Shouldn’t we call the police on these fellas now?”

“That’s a very good idea Walker, thank you for the suggestion. I could never think of that-“

As Tubbo says the last bit, they hear police sirens coming their way.

“Well,” Tommy starts as he stands on his feet, “we seem to have that covered. Let’s get going boys.”

As they see red lights approach the dark streets in front of them, they sprint out and back into the dark alleyways.

—————

“Good job boys. Thank you.”

“No problem 709. Me and Sap fooled those damn kids.”

Sapnap glances at his co-worker, Punz, and feels slightly guilty. He doesn't exactly want to do this, but he wants to help his friends.

“Well? Sap?”

“Yeah, it all went well. They thought they actually apprehended us but by that time we were already gone. Punz sent the hallucination sirens to trick them.”

“Yeah! I’m getting much better at it boss, there haven't been any problems in months at this point.”

“That’s wonderful Punz. I’ll send your check this week.”

“Thanks Boss.”

Sapnap looks down at his feet, his hands growing hot at his bad decisions in life. He wants to help his friend.

Right?

—————

Tommy walks ahead a bit, starting to slightly jump in puddles and kick the water with his boots.

Ranboo and Tubbo start to laugh as they catch up with him, starting to start a chase down the winding paths. They get out some of their test smoke bombs and try to throw Tommy off. It was fun.

They start to just stroll down the alley, idly chatting and causing minimal damage. Being able to fuck around for once with Ranboo and Tubbo. Refreshing, one would say. While serenity and peace is a fragile thing that they can’t keep for long, it’s moments like these that give them hope.

It’s these moments that give them hope for their own future.

Chapter Text

It’s familiar.

Almost a repeat of the other night.

Technoblade is sitting in a meeting with him, Dream, and Philza.

Techno is once again just waiting for the clock to hit 12:00.

That’s his patrol time. And he has someone he needs to see.

“Techno, have you found anything else ‘bout our Vigilante yet? Any new connections made?”

Philza looks over at him, with a slight squint and raise of the eye brow.

“No. I still haven’t made any new breakthroughs since you checked in with me this morning.”

“Woah there Blade, no need to get so hostile. We just all want Mellohi to be gone, ay?”

Deep breath, in and out. The masked unknown man stares into Techno's eyes. Dream wears a black mask that covers his nose and mouth leaving his eyes exposed. But Dream’s eyes do not show trust as Mellohi’s did. They show authority over Techno.

At least they tried to. Techno isn’t easily overpowered, and Dream is no exception.

Dream is chuckling, Philza is tense, and Techno is waiting this meeting out.

10:56.

“Well, you can do that tonight on patrol right? Take time to find out new connections with Mellohi? If he has any accomplices?”

Of course the unknown masked man’s eyes seem to suggest he knows something. They are always calculating and figuring out the ones around him.

He used to like Dream. Techno isn’t sure any more.

Philza, as lovingly as his dear father is, saves the staring contest between the two younger boys.

“Hey Techno, why don’t you go on patrol now?Nothing wrong with starting early.”

“We’ll Phil I think we’re having a very proactive con-“

“You’re right Phil. So sorry Dream but I have to do my job.”

10:57.

Technoblade stands up and pushes his chair back in with slight passive aggressiveness, grabbing the door handle of the door and walking to his office to grab his weaponry.

——————

Tubbo throws a canister of their new trial-stage smoke bomb at Tommy, who is still running from him and Ranboo. They made up their little game, basically tag but extreme and with parkour.

The canister falls right in front of Tommy and he slides to a stop trying to run away from it. Right as he faced it the dark green color that screams Tubbo explodes to Tommy’s face, leaving him to fall on the ground and laughing as Tubbo and Ranboo run away.

“You’re it!” The enderman exclaims.

He himself grabs a red smoke grenade and starts to jump to his feet, stretching out his wings under their binder and patting the bandages on his side slightly.

Though he should say something and break his silence, he’s having fun. So he runs off towards them, getting his throwing arm cocked to hit his targets.

“Snap! Walker! Get fuckin’ back here! You dickheads!”

——————

Technoblade’s hair blows through the wind, his mask and crown staying firm on his head.

It is 11:16 as he makes it to district 89. The hero gets off his motorcycle and uses his invisibility potion to keep the public from stealing it.

The fighting spirit that flows in his arms jumps to the top of a building, jump boost boots being the driving force.

Once again he stands on the building, looking over the tops of roofs and sun street lights.

Techno looks down at the alley below him and sees Mellohi. The vigilante that has tug on his heart strings. A brotherly protection of a person he just met, whom he knows little to nothing about. His age, his real voice, his age, anything.

Mellohi is being chased by a shorter man with horns and hair that covers his eyes. Teleporting around them is one more boy with half-black-half-white hair with purple partials flying around him.

Techno is about to jump down as the horned boy throws something towards Mellohi, a canister.

His stomach starts to churn as he looks over the edge about to intervene when the can explodes in front of Mellohi with dark green covering him.

The reason he stops is because the vigilante is laughing, he is laying on the ground with his arm around his stomach laughing.

Techno looks over to the other boys and the Enderman is saying “you’re it”.

Were they playing tag? With smoke bombs?

Mellohi gets up and grabs a red colored can from his side and runs back to them.

“Snap! Walker! Get fuckin’ back here! You dickheads!”

They’re having fun. The hero smiles, slightly, knowing that the worrying was for no reason and they boys seem to be friends.

They disappear from Techno’s sight, and the blood-named hero starts to make his way to where Mellohi and him agreed to meet last night.

He’ll be a bit early, but he can wait. He was going to interrupt Mellohi and see if they could meet earlier, but he decided to let the man have his fun.

——————

The vigilante trio runs around for thirty more minutes, all jokes and smoke blowing up in their face. It was the most fun they’ve had in a while.

As Tommy checks the time it hits 11:49 PM. Unfortunately that means he has to leave Tubbo and Ranboo, but on the bright side he gets to see Bloodlust.

About matters he doesn’t exactly like.

They are all sitting in a dark alleyway, about 3 districts away from their home.

“Snap, Walker, I have to get going. Big man has shit he needs to do.”

Tubbo groans and droops his head back, “What!” He exclaims, “You said you have to leave at twelve, it’s only like 11:50.”

“Snap that means he only has ten minutes to get to his meeting spot.”

“Damn you and your logic. We’ll see you at the house Mellow! Stay safe!”

Ranboo puts a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder and teleports them away to their home.

Tommy stands up and walks down through the shadows. Boots hit the ground and slightly splash in puddles of dropped water from above.

His walk passes in a blur, and soon enough he’s at the short cliffs edge once again.

Tommy looks over the eve and sees Bloodlust already here, standing with a notebook in hand.

The vigilante clears his throat, signaling to the hero he was here. Bloodlust looks up at him, his boar mask covering his face and leaving his mouth covered by a blood red mask.

Tommy starts to scale his way down the steep edge, “Bloodlust! My pal! Have ya’ missed me Big Man?”

Bloodlust laughs slightly. “Sure Mellohi. You seem to be in a better mood than our last meeting?”

“That was initial shock Bloody,” he points to the hero with a finger gun, his lie running off his lips, “I have had some uplifting turn of events. Also, why are you holding a notebook? Is that your diary! Awwww, big bad Bloodlust has a d-“

“Thanks for the patronizing words Mellohi. I appreciate that.”

“Anytime!”

Tommy feels like he’s talking to a friend at the moment, the night he’s had so far being the main cause. He feels like Bloodlust is actually here to help. He likes Bloodlust.

“Anyway, I have this so we can write down evidence and different Information. To keep organized.”

Tommy doesn’t feel like that’s it’s main purpose. Without a thought he snatches the book and grabs a pen from his bag.

Bloodlust starts to smile as he sees the shorter writing what is definitely not information or evidence.

Tommy starts to scribble little doodles on the first page, along with the words “Mellohi and Bloodlust’s very cool adventures”, though in front of ‘Mellohi’ is a scribbled out ‘T’.

“Haha! There! Now we can document all of what we do, Bloodlust!”

Technoblade smiles, and Tommy takes his goggles off his face and rests them on his head.

“So Mellohi, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Tommy sits down, Legs folded on top of each other and tilts his head to the side to show him thinking.

“To be honest big bad hero man-“

“That’s a new one.”

“-I don’t wanna get into heavy shit. I wanna goof off an all that y’know?”

“Heavy shit? Why would it be heavy? We’re just looking into drug distribution.”

Tommy looks at Bloodlust in the eyes, waving him off with his hand, “Eh, personal things, yeah?”

Techno pits his boar mask in his bag for now, exposing his eyes to look Mellohi straight on, trying to convey worry for why the cameras, numbers, and drugs are ‘personal’.

“What do you mean ‘personal things’?”

Mellohi’s light hearted face is about to start falling, and Techno, not wanting that to happen, changes the subject.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Techno sits in front of the shorter, “lets just go with whatever happens.”

Tommy’s face goes back to his expression from once he got here, happy and giddy.

Mellohi grabs the book once again and opens to the next page, scribbling the date in the corner and a tic-tac-toe grid in the middle of the page. He rests the notebook in between the two.

“So, wanna play?”

Techno looks Mellohi in the eyes and smiles, grabbing the pen from his hand and placing a circle right in the middle of the grid.

Mellohi takes the pen back, putting an ‘X’ in the top left corner.

They keep going back and forth until the vigilante has two places he could put his next ‘X’ and win.

“I win, I win, I win! Get fucked Mr Blood.”

Techno knows this trick, he’s known from the beginning. Did he have the heart to stop it? No. Not one bit.

Techno puts his last circle down.

“I guess you did.”

“That’s the easiest trick ever! How did you not see it coming! Damn idiot I’m hanging out with!”

Mellohi laughs alongside Technoblade.

“Well Vigilante, want to play another round?”

“That’s the spirit Lust!”

And so they do. They spend the next 15 minutes making idle conversation and then raving about how they won.

Around the 17 minute mark, multiple pages of the “information” notebook are filled with child games and Techno can tell they aren’t going to be doing any work tonight.

It’s a nice refresher to just do nothing and be able to talk with Mellohi like a person, rather than a business partner.

At the moment, both of them have just a normal face mask on with their eyes uncovered. Mellohi has a tuft of blond hair falling under his hood but the hero would be damned to say anything.

Mellohi wins once again, and exclaims out a “woohoo!” in victory.

“You’re so bad at this Bloodlust! God damn!”

The blond one falls onto his left side laughing, and then he stops once on the ground.

A split second it happened in.

He was fine one second, but once he hit his side he just paused, and lifted a hand to the same side once on his back.

Something changes in his eyes, not horror but just pain.

He closes his eyes and rests his head back. Pain being the only essence surrounding him.

Techno rushes to his side, immediately trying to find out what happened.

“Mellohi! Are you okay? What happened?”

Mellohi takes a breath.

“Yeah big man, im fine-“

“You’re obviously not fine. I shouldn’t have asked. What happened?”

“Uh-“ he chuckles, hand still on his side, “heh, well, um, for a man big and strong like me it’s normal to get- um- stabbed?”

Well, shit.

Techno has to do something, he has to help keep his new found friend safe.

He checks the time.

12:49.

The HQ will be empty from 1-5. He can get there in about 20 minutes.

He needs to take him there.

“Mellohi. I need you to answer me honestly, would you be comfortable if I took you to the HQ to take care of the wound. If not we can always just go to my home.”

Techno was risking his own safety for this, but he has never felt safer.

Mellohi looks him in the eyes.

“I’ll be find Bloodlust- I just need to take some more Tylenol or something.”

“Can I see the wound?”

Hesitance. A dead give away lying in the middle of a road, illuminated with the brightest street lights.

“Okay.”

Techno sits Mellohi up against the steep hill and lightly holds the hem of the blonds shirt underneath him.

He pulls it up and almost breaks down on the spot.

Mellohi’s head his thrown back, resting on the hill with his eyes tightly shut.

His wound was hideous.

He doesn’t know where to start.

The sewing thread as messy stitches, the severe infection riddling his body, the dried blood and cotton stuck along it, or the actual cut itself.

It’s about an inch and a half deep, it has no evidence of healing as if it gave up, it goes up from the middle of his stomach to tight under his arm as he inspects it more.

Something even more shocking, though, was the bone of the tip of a wing poking out from his binded back.

He rests the shirt down.

“Can I take you to the HQ? No one is here right now, everyone left for the night. I swear.”

Mellohi looks reluctant, but agrees. He lets Techno carry him in his arms all the way back up the hill and down the paths of the streets.

His head is still resting on the hero’s shoulder, and said hero is going as fast as he can on his motorcycle to get his companion the medical help he needs.

They finally get to the now visible bike, and Techno sits on the main seat, putting the Vigilante down behind him.

“Mellohi, can you hold on tight enough to hold on alone?”

Nods his head, “Of course, my arms are still strong big man.”

His normal charisma is mostly gone, traded for now calmness and trust and pain.

Techno starts going down the streets, starting slow and progressively going faster to get the blond used to the speed.

Mellohi rests his head on Techno’s back, watching the streets he patrols so frequently go by in a flash.

To outsiders they aren’t seen, them as well as the motorcycle are invisible to anyone not on it.

Tommy feels safe.

Within no time, the two are at a dark and empty Hero HQ.

Techno picks up Mellohi again in a bridal style, getting his keycard out and opening up the Office.

Mellohi chuckles slightly, “Bloodlust- I can walk y’know?”

“Mellohi. You have a slash wound across the bottom your stomach to your armpit,” he says as he carries him to the elevator up to the medical floor, “it is going to hurt like hell to walk on with poorly done stitches”

“Now how did you know that?”

Technoblade looks into Mellohi’s eyes and frowns under his mask.

“You can walk once you have proper stitches, alright?”

“Alright.”

The elevator dings, signaling to them that they are at the floor.

Technos boots hit the floor, Mellohi’s legs hanging over his arms and his head resting on Technoblade’s shoulder.

Mellohi tenses under Technos arms when he sees all the medical equipment. Like it has personally hurt him to look at syringes.

He rests the blond on the bed and starts getting all the equipment he needs at the moment.

Water, soap, disinfectant, tweezers, gloves, and stitches.

“Mellohi, I’m sorry to ask, but can you take off your shirt and binds? I won’t make any comments. I swear.”

Mellohi, resting on the bed, tense, stares him up and down. He takes a breath and puts out a pinky towards Techno’s hand.

“Pinky promise?”

Techno intertwines his fingers with the blond’s.

“Pinky promise.”

Mellohi starts to take off his jackets and shirt, until he gets down to the cotton bandages and wing binds.

He doesn’t want to take them off alone.

“Bloodlust?”

“Yes?”

“Can you just cut the binds off?”

Techno sits on the bed with Mellohi, grabbing scissors and gently cutting the bind from his chest to not hurt the wings more then they already are.

He is still personally in shock.

Why is he wearing wing binds? Since when did he have wings? Why was bone showing underneath?

Even though, he lets the binds fall off his chest and onto the bed.

Techno wants to cry.

He wants to give the man in front him a hug.

His wings are a mess.

His wings are barely even there.

One is basically sawed half off, the only thing left is the base of burned and cut bone while the other has spots burned off and cuts littering it.

The red feathers are so beautiful, but they now blend in with the dried blood and exposed bone.

His father has wings, he knows how much care they need, how sensitive they can be, how delicate they are.

This is not right. He needs his fathers help. He can’t yet, though. He needs to handle the fresh wound first.

This is not right. He needs his fathers help. He can’t yet, though. He needs to handle the fresh wound first.

He gets the water and lays Mellohi back, processing to gently pour water on a towel and dabbing it across the wound to try and clean exposed parts of the infection. He adds wound safe soap and disinfectant to the towel and repeats the process, trying to not hurt the Vigilante.

They do this for a while.

Mellohi is lying down and Techno is working, though they are still making idle conversation to ease their nervousness because someone who Techno is supposed to be arresting is inside a hero facility.

Once the wound is mostly cleaned out as best as he can and the skin is irritated and red Techno gets a needle and thread and starts to take out the sewing thread the boy seemed to do himself.

“Mellohi can I do stitches?”

“I don’t really care anymore. Go for it big man.”

So he continues working setting up the thread. Techno pokes the needle into the red skin through the wound, and repeats the process until the cut is sealed and cleaned with delicate hands.

Technoblade, the media titled “cold hearted hero” has been taking care of someone he was told to hate by law for over an hour. His “frozen heart” has been thawed and his title of “merciless hero” has been broken by someone he met about a week ago.

“Bloodlust?”

Mellohi looks him in the eyes, that being the only exposed part of the vigilante’s face along with his blond hair.

“Yes Mellohi?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Techno pauses.

“You’re just you.”

“Why am I trusting you so quickly?”

“I don’t that vigilante. If I’m being honest, I’m glad you trust me. You’re funny, you’re helpful, and I’ve had a hell of a fun time with you just in the last few hours.”

Mellohi looks down, “Thank you Bloodlust.”

Techno takes a breath. If the Vigilante trusts him he wants to show that the trust is reciprocated. A rash decision, but a decision at that.

“Technoblade.”

The Illegal looks up again.

“What?”

“I trust you too Vigilante. My name is Technoblade.”

Mellohi grabs Techno’s shoulders into a hug.

“Thank you Techno.”

“No problem Mellohi.”

“You can call me Tommy. It’s okay.”

Techno freezes for a second in the hug.

Tommy.

The vigilante’s name is Tommy.

It suits him.

“Tommy, I have a question for you. Since the HQ will be empty for three more hours, if you’re feeling up to it, do you wanna try some training?”

Tommy, as he now knows, jumps out of the hug and his eyes light up, “Fuck yeah! Take me to the training Blade!”

He seems like a child, he is sitting on the edge of the bed kicking his legs while looking at Techno as if he hung the stars.

“Give me my shirt Techno!”

Technoblade throws Tommy his shirt and jacket along with his bag.

The blond snatches it all and midair but stops as he was about to put it back on.

“Do you have scissors Mr. Hero?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Need to cut a hole for me wings.”

Techno walks over to the counter of medical supplies and grabs the scissors, handing them off to Tommy.

Tommy cuts small holes into the back of his flood stained shirt and throws it over his head, maneuvering his wings into the holes.

He throws his jacket overtop and stands up from the bed, patting his side and looking over at Techno.

“So, Technoblade. Where is this training room you speak of.”

“For someone who just got severe stitches you are very energetic.”

“I recover quickly.”

“Okay, I won’t judge.” He says as he shrugs.

The two start walking towards the elevator, which Tommy, now more awake and aware of his surroundings, decides to race Techno to.

The hero-vigilante duo stand in the elevator waiting to get to floor 56, the training arena.

And within no time they are at floor 56 and Tommy is rushing out the door and running through the floor full of various training equipment and obstacles.

“Techno! How the fuck is there so much stuff! I’ve never seen something like this before!”

Technoblade laughs, walking over to where Tommy is.

“What do you wanna do first Vigilante?”

“Uh, fucking monkey bars?!” Tommy exclaims as he notices them over on one side of the large room, “Why are they over a damn foam pit? I want to do that, holy shit!”

Technoblade runs over to where Tommy is and stands by the ladder the blond is now climbing.

Tommy proceeds to grab the side do his mask and rip it off, throwing it down to where the pink haired is standing.

He was not expecting that.

He looks over to Tommy’s face, and it’s one more surprise to add to the night.

It’s a child.

This damn Hero organization wants to arrest a child.

He looks to be 17 years old, definitely under 18.

Where are his parents? Does he go to school? Does he have a home?

Tommy has joy spread across his face.

He now knows Tommy’s eyes squint when he smiles, and it’s sweet.

Techno watches as Tommy stands on top of the monkey bars, trying to run across them but then deciding to jump down into the foam, beginning to climb up and repeat once again.

“Techno! Watch! I can do a flip!”

Tommy then jumps off the bars and flips into the pit once more. He feels like he’s flying again.

Techno realizes he just heard Tommy’s real voice for the first time.

He looks down at the mask in his hands and sees the voice changer built in.

He smiles once again, and continues watching Tommy.

Techno feels like he’s watching his younger brother at the park, like he’s taking care of him and keeping him safe from the world.

So that’s when he decides it.

He’s going to do exactly that.

He’s going to keep his new-found younger brother figure safe from the world around him and he is going to let him experience things as a child.

That’s his new mission.

Chapter Text

Serenity.

The state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.

It holds Techno and Tommy like a blanket, in the moment.

In the middle of their goofing off, Techno and Tommy took another trip to the medical unit to grab TOMMY a decent amount of medicine to keep the wound healing and healthy for about two months. He wanted to make sure Tommy wouldn’t further hurt the injury.

As the night progressed, Techno had started to actually train the young Vigilante, whether it be in wing stretches his father had shown him or fighting practice.

Tommy had gotten much more comfortable with Techno within the night, and was absolutely thrilled that someone wanted to help him train.

They are no longer training.

“Okay okay- then once we lost the police we went over to that one open sewer in like, district 76, and we all spray painted our names! It was fuckin’ epic!”

“What did you do after?”

“We’ll I-“

Techno’s phone starts buzzing.

“Sorry Toms, give me a second.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you're picking a phone call over me.”

Techno rolls his eyes and clicks the green button appearing on his screen.

“Hey Wil.”

“Hey Techno, I just wanted to tell you I’m not gonna be at home when you get back.”

Techno can hear a key card being pulled out from the caller.

“Where are you goin’?”

“I’m starting work early,” the keycard is seemingly being swiped and a sound buzzes, allowing entrance, “I know I know, it’s only 3, why start so early? I don’t really know, I just couldn’t sleep and have some work I need to finish. I want to get most of the day off anyway.”

Techno’s eyes widen.

Shit.

“Okay nice. Talk to you later.”

“Byeee-!”

Wilburs sing-song “bye” was cut off by Techno hanging up the phone.

“Toms.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My brother is coming into work early and he kind of works here.”

“Oh shit.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was coming this early.”

“So I have to leave?”

Techno’s stomach twists. Tommy didn’t say it in an angry or sad way, but Techno was upset that he had to say that, even though it was bound to happen at some point.

“You know what,” he kneels down in front of Tommy.

Techno grabs one of his favorite necklaces around his neck and slips it over his head, cupping it in his hands and folding Tommy’s hands around it.

It’s a loose leather chain with an emerald pendant, engraved with Techno’s initials on the front.

Tommy looks up into Techno’s eyes and frowns.

“I’m gonna regret this, but do you have a phone Tommy?”

“Yeah, why?”

The hero pulls out a pen and piece of paper, scrawling out a number across it, putting that into Tommy’s hand as well.

“Go get your stuff Vigilante, I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon Bloodlust. Thank you.”

Techno walks back towards the door, turning around before he turns the handle to look back at Tommy. He is putting his mask and gear on, subsequently opening a window while shoving his arms into his leather coat. He stands on the edge, looking over to Techno and giving him a salute before jumping to the next building's windowsill.

Technoblade smiles.

————

Alleys are always suspicious.

No matter the light or part of town you’re in, there’s always something to them that makes them unsafe.

And, unfortunately, Tommy is once again walking down one.

He’s used to it, at this point. You can‘t not be in a profession as he is.

He brings a hand up to the wall beside him, dragging it along as he walks.

His fingers scrape the graffiti littered across the cracked bricks, some are names, some are pictures and some are messages.

Tommy comes up on a lantern on a garbage can, slighting illuminating the walls around. Leaving Tommy to actually be able to see what the graffiti looks like.

A slight pause is all it takes ruins his mood. If he wasn't so curious, he would’ve made it home without any worry.

But what else would he do when he sees some green spray paint ? The same green that he wears?

So he looks.

And there it is.

One more message.

“Hi Tommy :)” it read. He doesn’t even need a signature, a sign, to even know who did this.

Him.

Tommy looks around, and it’s never ending.

All around him is lime green spray paint sprayed to say “Hi Tommy :)” all with the eerie smile that plagues his nightmares and his days.

Tommy hears footsteps behind him, and jumps around, already guessing who it may be but needing to be proven either right or wrong.

This is the one time he would be lucky to be wrong.

But the great Tommyinnit is always right, as he says.

He is standing right in front of the vigilante. In all green and black with a white mask.

“Hi Tommy.”

Tommy wants to throw up.

He wants to puke out his anger, his pain, his hatred- both for the man and himself. His manufactured self made strong by that same man that he wants to rip the throat out of. He was supposed to be a weapon, made and modeled, but he couldn’t even do that right.

Immediately, he starts to run down the alley, turning on the speed and jump boost on his boots.

The man in green keeps following him, always throwing his ender pearls a few feet behind.

“Hi Tommy.”

Said kid can't breathe. He’s hyperventilating, He already feels the panic attack coming on.

He is as much a trigger as a gun. When the vigilante sees him once more behind him, Tommy grabs a grappling hook from his pocket and aims it over towards a building roof far in the distance.

“You can’t run, Tommy.”

He sounds like he’s talking to a child.

He might as well be.

Tommy’s head is full, he can’t even try to listen to this psychotic man. He focuses on aiming his hook and not leaving room for error.

His finger wraps around the trigger and pulls, releasing the latch to fly through the air, and landing on the ledge of a roof.

It brings the Vigilante up into the air, letting him slightly hit the wall a few feet from the top. He grips his hands around the grappling hook and starts pulling himself fully up. His feet land on solid surface once more and starts sprinting again, hearing his torturer’s ender pearl land behind him.

“C’mon Thomas, don’t be such a baby.”

Tommy’s mask doesn’t make it any easier to breathe, but his legs are on autopilot to get him as far away from him as possible.

Only about a half hour ago Tommy had the freedom to have off his little disguise and have fun. Real, raw, fun that he hasn’t experienced in so long. Though our poor vigilante has a bad past along with terrible luck, and so unfortunately his freedom was short lived.

With his captor on his heels he grabs the grappling hook once more and repeats his motions from before.

Being pulled through the air is almost akin to being able to fly again. His hood finally falls off his head, the clips he usually has on to keep it in place falling off. His blond hair is exposed, and the wind flows through it.

He lands.

So does his stalker.

“Tommy,” he drags out his name, so sinister but so sweet.

Like a drugged drink, sweet at the first taste, but then you are subsequently throwing up mere hours or minutes later. He is the embodiment of all paranoia and god complex.

Tommy does not falter. Focused on getting away from him and staying free.

The sound of boots against the roof might make the sleeping kids think Christmas has come early, though it would be more fitting if Tommy was being hit with stones.

The green clad man throws another pearl, this time landing in front of Tommy.

“Hi.”

Tommy jumps backwards, about to start running once more when he grabs his collar with his gloved and large hands.

“Hello, have you missed me?”

The gripped boy grabs a knife from his pocket, trying to slash the man’s hands off him. But this obsessive man laughs, he laughs at Tommy’s struggling and pain and horror and finds sweetness and humor.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you!”

“Tommy, you need some better come backs, ‘fuck you’ is getting boring.”

With his last word he grips Tommy’s covered chin and forces him to look right into his eyes.

The man in green let's Tommy’s chin go and grabs his left hand, palm resting in his thumb and then pulling up, dislocating his thumb in one pull.

Tommy jerks backwards, right hand cradling his left.

He makes a noise of distress, while the green man laughs once more.

“You’re sadistic!”

“That’s a big word Tommy, do you even know what it means?”

“Of course I fuckin’ do!”

“We’ll, I’m glad you were finally able to pass 4th grade. It’s been such an honor to watch you grow my muse.”

Muse.

A person who is a source of creativity or inspiration for an artist.

Tommy wants to throw up.

“See you soon!”

And with a smirk he is off, poofed away. Gone from view.

Sometimes that’s scarier.

He could be anywhere, but when Tommy sees him he knows where he is.

But in the dark, in the shadows he is gone as the sun during the night.

Unseen but there. Shining bright and burning feverishly.

He is taunting him.

Always around the corner, running close and then stopping right as he is about to drag him down once more.

Sick and twisted, Tommy’s mind has been warped and warped, all to the credit of the man around the corner.

So Tommy runs.

He runs to the next roof over, and the next and next, trying to outrun a man who is not seen but is all seeing.

Tommy’s breath gets heavy, his lungs are in pain from endless running over copy and pasted roofs.

He’s in an endless loop, he has been running for what could have been minutes or hours.

Soon enough he is no longer in the city, and he has passed his home and the warm arms of his brothers.

He is on the outskirts of town, in a woodland area in the higher districts, about 95, Tommy would say.

He doesn’t know how he got here, his mind must’ve went on autopilot and took him wherever he was.

He slows down, walking upwards on a hill to get to a higher glimpse of where he has landed.

Tommy balls his lands into a fist, one by one, trying to keep focused on his task. Whatever that task may be.

He walks and walks, and soon he’s at the top of the hill. He stands. He slides his goggles off his eyes to get a better look.

Tommy is looking over a small cliff that hangs high enough to see the blurry city lights about a mile away.

He’s hands are hanging at his side, gripping his goggles in one and the other limp. His legs are strong and his torso is straightened, his eyes are softened. He looks over to his side, and sees a red abandoned car. Now Tommy’s not an expert about cars, but he can tell it’s old.

He glances over at the city below him and back at the car, walking over and hopping on the hood facing the cliff.

He grabs his bag that is at his side and opens it up, grabbing a soda can that he stole while in the hero HQ kitchen.

His thumb presses the tab and he pulls up, heading the ‘pop!’ of carbonation within the drink.

Tommy brings it to his lips and sets it down next to him.

He breathes.

He breathes and for once it’s slightly freeing.

He takes a sip of his drink and tastes it. He feels the car underneath him and the gloves on his hand. He feels and tastes and breathes in a way that’s refreshing, like he feels human for once. Like he’s normal and the only thing he is worrying about is school tomorrow.

He breathes and he lives.

Tommy brings his phone out of his bag and takes a picture of the city in front of him.

He stands and takes a picture of the car.

He texts Ranboo and Tubbo, telling them he’ll be home soon.

It feels as though his god has finally given him a break. Given him time to recover and rest. His god that is a sweet loving woman, with long hair that flows down their shoulders and resides among the stars, watching down on her followers. Or follower, per say.

And he walks home. He lets his feet hit the floor of the ground and walks down it, trying back into the city he loves and loathes. He knows there is a man somewhere around a corner watching and waiting, but he can’t do anything about it.

He twists the handle of his apartment and looks over at the slightly crushed soda cans on the table, throwing all his gear onto the couch and walking to his bedroom, filled with a sleeping Tubbo and Ranboo.

Tommy nudges his way into the middle of the two and pulls the covers to his chest, closing his eyes and feeling his brothers laying side by side with him.

He does not worry about the man in green, because he can’t do anything about it right now.

All he can do is enjoy the moment.

All he can do is live.

All he can do is breathe.

So he does.