Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A biting wind whipped past Tommy despite his sweat-dampened summer clothes. His enhanced metabolism always kept him running hot. Thomas Innes, healer and light manipulator—a rare combination.

He could use his powers, but heroism felt…wrong. (The memory of a porcelain, sickeningly sweet smile flashed in his mind.) He much preferred the Syndicate, three villains aiming to overthrow corrupt heroes. He was terrified of them, of course, but their cool efficiency, their care for civilians, was undeniable.

Thanatos, was the coolest, with huge, inky black wings that shimmered in the weak sunlight, sported a bright green and white bucket hat, its veil obscuring his face. The chilling touch of Thanatos slowed heartbeats, perhaps stopping them entirely, yet he only stunned, never killed, preferring brutal hand-to-hand combat.

Pallas, equally captivating, with a magnificent braid of long, pink hair, wore an awesome villain outfit. An off-white poet’s shirt, dark slacks, a flowing red cape and a hilt for his sword. His immense frame and strength, coupled with unparalleled combat skill, were formidable.

When the Syndicate fought together, it was clear who was more powerful in both strength and teamwork.

Shaking off his thoughts, Tommy walked on, the crisp autumn air carrying the faint scent of wood-smoke and baking bread, towards the middle-class side of L’manberg, where his bakery job and Niki’s muffins awaited. The very thought made his mouth water.

He’d also check on his old roommate, Tubbo, who miraculously worked there, despite nearly incinerating their apartment countless times with his cooking mishaps.

(The ghost of burnt ramen still clung to the air in their old kitchen.)

The cafe’s bell jingles a cheerful, if slightly off-key, tune as Tommy enters, smelling warm bread and sugary sweetness thick in the air. He heads to the back, the rhythmic thud of his footsteps echoing on the tiled floor, checking in and pinning his name tag to his shirt.

“Boss man!” A cheery voice called from behind. He couldn’t mistake it for anyone else.

“Tubs!” He shot back, turning around and giving the short brunette a hug. “What’s up, man?”

“Have you told them yet?” Tubbo gets straight to the point, which usually is great, except for now. Tommy looks away sheepishly while fiddling with his hands. “Tommy! They deserve to know, they’re practically - scratch that, they are your family.”

“I know tubs, I know. I’m just, — a bit scared still…”

“Yeah, but you know there’s no reason for them to use you like Dr- Um. He did. Why would they need a healer if they aren’t in harm’s way?”

“I… i don’t know. I promise I’m working on telling them. It just doesn’t feel like the right time right now.”

“Alright, I’m heading out, but you need to tell them toms,” Tubbo sighs as he walks into the kitchen area of the bakery.

It’s noon, a long shift stretching before him until 7 pm, closing duties extending it to 7:30. He forces a smile, the practiced cheer of customer service, a mask against the fatigue. The first hours are always a trial. A steady stream of customers arrives, the afternoon rush a cacophony of chatter and the clatter of plates. The air buzzes with the irritating demands of several overly entitled women–five Karens, to be exact–each insistent on banana nut muffins. Despite Tommy’s repeated explanation of his limited baking capacity. If he would convince Tubbo–which he wouldn’t, fuck those Karens–Tubbo’s already gone. His absence punctuated only by the annoying jingle of the bell as another customer walks in.

Tommy wipes down the sticky counter, the bread crumbs gritty under the cloth, steeling himself for the next onslaught.

“Ayup, what can I—” He asks before registering it’s just his brother before groaning.

“Not very professional of you if you ask me, Theseus.” The older says voice monotone as he leans up against the counter.

“It is when the customer’s a bitch.” He quips back, a fond smile attempting to show, but Tommy shoves it down.

“I don’t think children should be cursin’.”

“Are you actually going to order, or have you just come here to bother me, Tech-no-blade?”

Techno gives him a small smirk. “Ill take a dozen chocolate chip cookies, but I want them individually packaged.”

Tommy stops and gawks at him before getting to work. He pulls out the paper packages and takes his sweet time, putting each individual cookie in its respective bag. Tommy sets the cookie bags on the pickup counter with a sigh and shouts at Techno from across the bakery to come pick up his order. Technoblade, thankfully, hurriedly walks over to the counter, an annoyed grimace plastered on his face.

Tommy can’t help but feel a bit worried. Techno can be a bit annoying, but he still cares deeply about his brother.

“You alright, Tech?” Tommy’s tone much softer compared to the lighthearted banter from before. The pinkette’s face softens as he glances at Tommy from his phone.

“Fine, just work givin’ me trouble again. Y’know how it is.” And damn, does Tommy know. He offers a small reassuring smile before the older walks off into the chilly autumn afternoon, letting the scent of falling leaves waft in for a moment before the door shuts.

Tommy sighs as he glances down at his watch. It was a little before 7, and the bakery was desolate. He’s sure Niki wouldn’t mind if he closed up shop a bit early. He goes through the motions of cleaning, wiping off crumbs from tables and counters, mopping the cool tiled floors, and doing all the money stuff before he checks himself out of the system.

Tommy pulls out the keys to the bakery from his pockets with a jingle and locks the door, checking twice just to make sure. The late afternoon turned even colder as the night fell on the city, with only the streetlights and building lights illuminating the roads. It’s never a problem for the great Tommy Innes.

He keeps a soft, warm glow in his hands that he uses like a flashlight when needed. The streets were quiet tonight, thankfully. He really didn’t want to get mugged today. Or any day, for that matter.

The walk from his work to home wasn’t too far, only about 10 minutes, but on nights like these, when his head was swimming with all the memories he dreaded, it felt like ages.

He was lucky he had met Phil all those months ago, when he was living with Tubbo in a dingy apartment, just barely scraping enough money to get by. The crafts were so amazing to him, and now. He gets to call himself a craft too.

He doesn’t know exactly when it happened, when Phil started calling him son or when Techno called him his little brother. But he’s grateful for all of it, especially when Technoblade lies on the couch and reads to him about different mythologies. Or when Phil will make him his favorite meals when he’s feeling a little down. Or how techno will make hot chocolate for them both and talk until Tommy can go back to sleep after a nightmare. He loves his family, even though they aren’t blood relatives. That doesn’t matter, because they all trust one another.

The streets slowly got less and less dirty and more well kept as Tommy made his way to the upper side of L’manberg. Soon he’s back home with the people he loves. Tommy walks up the steps and opens the door to the smell of Phil’s amazing cooking. None of them are perfect, but it was home.

He closes the door behind him and kicks off his shoes. Phil was making what looked to be spaghetti, and his brother was in the living room watching another nature documentary.

Techno gives a slight head nod and a mumble in Tommy’s direction before going back to watching the polar bear documentary.

“Hi mate! How was work?” Phil asks, as he’s straining the pasta out of the water.

“It was okay, although there were a few people with their heads stuck up their ass,” Tommy responds as he slumps onto the couch between his older brothers. He can hear Phil wheeze out a laugh from the kitchen.

Family nights were always nice after a long shift of people insulting him. Customer service fucking sucked balls. After being alone with only Tubbo for so long, he almost started to believe what people said about how rude and annoying he was.

Sitting here, surrounded by the people Tommy trusted most, he can’t help but think back to what Tubbo argued with him about the other day. A part of him knows his family deserves to know about his powers, but the deeper, uglier (true) part of him fears that they would use him like he did. Besides, it’s not like they would need his healing, anyway. They’re the sweetest people he knows. Sure, they were all anarchists and yeah, they would all kill for Tommy’s safety, but they’ve never gotten into any fights or danger before.

But that comfortable certainty cracks a little bit more each time one of them has to disappear to whatever “work” they had. Every time they’d come back looking a bit disheveled, it worried him, and what was worse was the fact that they didn’t trust him enough to tell him what the work even was. (Which was not hypocritical… probably.)

All they’d ever say was ‘it’s too complicated to explain, we’ll tell you at some point.’ Or ‘it could be harmful for him to know’. How could any sort of work be that bad? Surely, his family are all just overthinking about how harmful their jobs could be.

“Thes?” Techno asked softly, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Foods done, kid.”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgment and the duo promptly got up to get food. The warm, yummy smell of food wafts through the chair as Tommy walks to his usual chair at the dining table. He sat next to Technoblade every night at dinner. (Don’t tell Phil, but Techno is definitely his favorite.) Tech sets a plate of spaghetti in front of him and sits down with his own plate.

Of course, Techno had his own plate of baked potatoes. Techno and his potatoes man, you’d think he’d get sick of them at some point. The familiar bickering of family flows easily, and Tommy finds himself smiling fondly at the scene. Yeah, Tommy loves his family, maybe more than he’s ever loved anything else.

Chapter Text

His day was going normal. Long, tiring shift, annoying uptight customers, a warm chocolate muffin from Niki, the usual. Until now, because why would Tommy ever get a fucking break.

Tommy was walking home from his shift at the bakery when he’d stumbled into the situation. He should’ve taken Technoblade’s offer to drive him home, god dammit. His brother was supposedly in the area anyway. Now, Tommy was here, watching one of the top super villains, Pallas, fight one of the top heroes, Inferno. His suit was plain, a white skin tight suit with flame designs here and there and a bandanna pulling his jet-black hair out of his face. Inferno had the power to control and summon fire, definitely not something you want to fuck with. The worst part? They were right in his way, throwing cars and fire balls at each other and shit. Why the fuck did they decide to fight in the streets? Go fight on a rooftop or some shit.

God, he really didn’t want to deal with this shit today. But he froze when Pallas’s masked eyes locked onto his, and it almost looked like the man was stunned, something akin to shock or fear. The falter was enough for Inferno to take a good shot at the villain. Now Pallas was strong, but the dude wasn’t invincible. A pained grunt could be heard when the fireball hit, exploding on impact. Pallas stumbled back, focusing back into the fight.

“Inferno,” the villain’s gruff voice boomed. It sent shivers down Tommy’s spine as he was still standing there like an idiot watching the scene unfold. “That kid’s too close, back off.”

The hero huffed, “Oh and miss the chance to take down the infamous Pallas? You fucking wish.” A fireball whizzed past Tommy, not close enough to hurt or anything, but he could feel the heat radiate off of it. It slammed into a nearby building, shattering the glass of the windows. It pulled him out of his frozen state and he fucking booked it to the closest alley-way.

Adrenaline surged, a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The alley was dark, smelling of damp concrete and something vaguely metallic. He pressed himself against the cold brick, heart hammering, a frantic tattoo against his ribs. The fight continued, a muffled roar of power and destruction echoing from the street. He dared to peek, seeing Inferno gain the upper hand, flames licking at Pallas’s form. Then, silence. A heavy thud from the building rooftop in front of him. Tommy waited, breath held tight, until the only sound was the frantic pulse in his ears. Slowly, cautiously, he crept out.

The street was empty. He had to get home. He had to tell Technoblade. This wasn’t something he how to deal with. This wasn’t a long, tiring shift and an annoying customer. This was… something else entirely.

Up above him, he heard that recognizable sound of a fireball exploding into something. Another thud, and Tommy prays that it’s nothing bad. He just wants to go home to his brother and watch some stupid nature documentary or get his ass handed to him in skywars. There’s talking. Whoever it is, they’re too far away for Tommy to fully hear. His heart still hammering away in his chest, he continues to stare up at the sky between the two buildings.

Tommy notices how the stars were beautiful out tonight. It’d been getting darker earlier and earlier with the changing of seasons. Then something huge falls down, and Tommy just wants to go home. He wants to go home to Techno and Phil and say that his curiosity didn’t get the best of him.

What if its the villain?

What if its the hero?

fuck.

Tommy has never hated his empathy more. He can’t just let whoever it is die. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

‘hey Tommy, welcome home! What’d you do today?’

‘Oh you know, the usual. Letting some person die in an alleyway, while i could’ve helped.’

Gritting his teeth, Tommy focuses, a warm tingly sensation starts in his fingertips before traveling to the entirety of his hands. A bright light shines in his palms, a soft warmth radiates him. Shit, shit, shit. He should just turn around while he can. Forget about this all, before he can’t. His jaw clenches as he steels himself for whatever awaits him. The fear remains, but it’s overridden by a burning need to help. Curse him and his kindness. Slowly, he steps towards the figure in the dingy alley. He stops in his tracks when he sees a red cape.

Fuck.

Fuck him and his shitty life.

“Kid?”

Oh jesus fucking christ. Too late to turn around now, god fucking dammit. Tommy can hear the thrumming of his heart in his ears.

“u-um… hi?” He stutters and it’s a soft quiet thing. Almost not audible, keyword almost. The dude grunts, shifting to sit up better. Tommy steps closer to actually be able to shine his light and see the villain. He’s burned, badly, and god the fucking smell of burnt skin is almost enough to make him throw up. He gags and steadies himself for a moment.

The boy crouches down, eye level to Pallas, close enough to hear his pained, short breaths. He can feel the man’s eyes boring into his skull, but he stays still.

God, he’s gonna regret this.

“I.. I can help” Tommy explains, hoping the man wont be a dick about it. Pallas huffs.

“What’re you gonna do, kid? Give me a kiss for my ouchies?” He chuckles, but its quickly cut off with a pained hiss.

“M’ not a kid prick, and you should be kissin’ my ass. You stumbled upon one of the few healers in the city.” Tommy shoots back and there’s a sharp inhale from Pallas. The banter falls easily somehow. There’s something so familiar about this guy… but of course there would be. You’d have to be stupid to not know who Pallas is. The guy just stares for a second then sighs, and Tommy takes that as a sign to continue.

He takes a deep breath and moves his glowing hands over Pallas’s body. The tingling sensation starts again, the warmth flows through him and the light in his hands glows brighter. Tommy screws his eyes shut as the heat starts to burn, and his body feels like its on fire, but he continues. Slowly, the light fades and he slumps to the grimy floor. His body can still feel the phantom pains of burns all over. He leans his head back on the brick wall and stays there for a moment.

When he opens his eyes, Pallas is standing in front of him and he cant help the fear that seizes over him.

“Thanks…” Pallas says, if Tommy knew any better he’d say the big, bad villain almost looks awkward. Tommy gives a hum of acknowledgment, getting on his knees to stand. “You good there, kid?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, walking off. He can finally go back home. Forget dinner, his bed is going to feel fucking heavenly. Tommy couldn’t be bothered to worry about the super villain that he just left in an alley.

The walk back to home was a struggle to say the least. There was a burning in his skin and a soft ache in his hands. He walked in the front door and tossed his shoes off. Tommy didn’t have the energy to say he was home. Technoblade and Phil were both probably worried sick since it was an hour after when he usually comes home. The only light on was in the kitchen. He could hear Technoblade talking to Phil about something. He sounded a bit upset about something. Shit, he should’ve texted them. They’re probably stressed out of their fucking minds.

“…No, Phil you don’t—”

“I’m… it’ll be fine, calm… we were going…”

“… but what if this messes… "

Tommy sluggishly shuffles over to the kitchen, and the talking stops.

“Tommy?” Techno pokes his head out of the kitchen and his worried expression practically melts off his face. “You okay Theseus?” His brows furrowed as he looks over the boy’s tired demeanor.

Fuck, should he tell them? It’s not like they have differing opinions on the superheroes and super villains. But who knows if Pallas would put his head on a stake for telling anyone. He really doesn’t want to lie to them. Is it really lying if he just didn’t tell them?

“Mhmm, m’ just tired—”

“You sure bud?” Phil interrupts, peeking out to look at the boy, “If you aren’t feeling well, I can get you something.”

On one hand, Tommy doesn’t even know if the pain reliever would help. The phantom pains are just a thing that comes with healing, and he’s dealt with worse. (The searing, stabbing pain fogs his head and his hands ache, deep in the bones.) He pushes the thought away.

“No thanks, Phil. I’ll live. It was just a long shift, is all. G’night,guys,” Tommy mumbles out, and it seems to satisfy them because the two go back to their conversation. Albeit a lot more hushed this time. Probably something about work, it was fine.

(A bitter anger curls in his gut before he can shrug it off.)

It was fine. He didn’t have to tell them. If they could have secrets, he could have his. That’s fine… right? (but isn’t this family built on trust? His mind cruelly supplies.)

Tommy climbs the stairs and staggers down the hall to his room. Hot chocolate and a myth with Techno would be so fucking nice, but he can’t muster up the energy to ask.

The door swings open half-haphazardly, he doesn’t bother closing it behind him. He just wants to pass the fuck out. Tommy all but flops onto his bed, snuggling up under the soft comforter.

He sleeps that night dreaming of an ache in his chest and a creepy smile that he just can’t seem to get rid of.

Chapter Text

Tommy was beyond thankful for having the day off when he woke up that morning. The pains and aches were gone, but it felt like he hadn’t slept a bit.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he groggily got up from his bed and rummaged through his dresser for some suitable clothes. God, he needs to take a shower. He feels all greasy and grimy. Looking outside the window, it was later in the day, maybe around 11 or 12. Sure enough, when he checked his phone, it was 1:38. Oops.

Making his way to the bathroom down the hall from everyone’s room, he looks at himself in the mirror. Dark bags ghosted the under of his eyes and his hair was flat and dull. Tommy definitely looked worse for wear. Hoping in the shower, the water melts the stress off of his body, washing away into the drain. The boy stays until the water gets cold. Tommy finishes up and puts his clothes on before heading down the steps.

The smell of hash browns and eggs waft from the kitchen. Probably left overs from that morning’s breakfast. Surprisingly, when he steps into the kitchen, Techno is at the stove cooking food.

“Good morning. What are you making, big T?” Tommy asks as he sits down at the table, head in his hands.

“More like good afternoon,” the man chuckles as he pours the scrambled eggs off the pan and onto a plate. It smells divine. Techno’s cooking is always the best, but it’s rare when it happens. “I thought I’d make you some late breakfast since you woke up late.”

His brother sets the plate in front of him, and the boy gives his thanks. Tommy was quick to dig in, and he was not disappointed. The eggs were nice and fluffy, while the hash browns were crunchy and seasoned to perfection.

Techno was leaned up against the counter with a fond smile on his face. “So…” he starts, “I was wondering if you wanted to help me with a new recipe today?”

Holy shit, yes. Techno’s cooking was good, but his baking could rival even the most advanced culinary masters. Despite his gruff demeanor, the man was always trying out new recipes for sweet treats. Tommy was his taste tester. He got the final product, the batter, icing. You name it? He got to eat it.

It was always a blast helping his brother with baking. The best part was that he didn’t even have to do the dishes after. Or the clean up! Top-tier bonding if you ask him. He does a couple fist pumps in the air mentally, this is going to be great.

“Fuck yeah! What are you trying? Brownies? Cake? Cookies?” The boy asked, standing to put his plate in the sink.

“Neither of those. We’re going to make,” Technoblade pauses for dramatic effect, “Banana pudding.”

Suddenly, everything in life was worth it.

After a moment of gathering all the necessary items to get baking, the brothers have an island full of different ingredients and cooking utensils. A box of vanilla wafer cookies, 9 bananas, milk, a box of instant vanilla pudding, 2 containers of whipped cream, a whisk, 2 different bowls and a pan.

Tommy eyes the towering stack of bananas, suppressing a laugh as Techno holds up the whisk with a mock-serious flaunt. The blond looks over at his brother mischievously. He picks up one of the bananas, wielding it like a sword in Technoblade’s direction.

“Are we making pudding, or starting a food fight?” Techno says, eyebrow raised as he grabs the banana from Tommy’s hand.

“You’re just scared,” Tommy sticks out his tongue and Technoblade rolls his eyes at the kid. “I’m the biggest man in L’manberg! I’d kick your ass, Tech-no-blade,” He sounds out the syllables.

“Oh really now?” His brother smirks. Tommy nods confidently, head held high in pride. Technoblade tosses the banana back at Tommy and steadies himself into a fighting stance. His feet were wide apart with knees slightly bent, his body facing sideways and his head looking straight on to the boy in front of him. “Well, kid, let’s test that.” Giggling, Tommy awkwardly goes into mock-fighting stance himself. It was unsteady and clumsy. The boys feet were shoulder length apart and his weapon held stupidly in front of his chest, it wasn’t even guarding anything.

He lunges first, but Techno dodges gracefully. Tommy stumbles to regain his balance, but quickly fixes himself and readies for another attack.

He swipes at Technoblade’s chest, the man steps back. His brother’s face was unimpressed and he almost looked bored with the situation. No matter, the great Tommy innes is going easy on him.

This time Technoblade dashes at him. The older steps forward quickly, lowering his body, before using his whisk to strike at Tommy’s weapon. The banana flies across the kitchen before smashing onto the ground with a splat.

Tommy looks back at Technoblade, mouth hung open. Techno has a smug look on his face before he looks at the banana on the ground. Tommy grimaces when he looks back to his once distinguished weapon, the berry had split open getting it all over the cabinets and floor. Techno grabs a paper towel, his expression shifting from triumphant to resigned annoyance.

After a couple of minutes of messing around and exasperated sighs, the duo was done! It took about two hours, filled with hard work and laughter. (Tommy sat at the kitchen island, rambling his head off. He didn’t lift a finger the entire time, spare for the spatulas being licked clean.)

As they put the pan into the fridge to cool, Phil poked his head through the door, eyeing the mess skeptically. There were crumbs of vanilla wafers littering the island counter tops and spilt milk in puddles on the floor. (Courtesy of Tommy’s shenanigans.) His dad sighs dramatically before resigning himself to start helping Techno with washing dishes.

Tommy wipes pudding off his hands, snickering at Technoblade’s annoyed scowl, and sits back down at the island.

Baking with Techno is always the best, but the worst part was waiting for something to cool, or cook. The pudding had to stay and refrigerate for FOUR WHOLE HOURS!!! That’s like half a day!! What is he supposed to do in that time? Do drugs? Laugh at other people who don’t have banana pudding? Cry?

A pained hiss comes from Phil, and Tommy’s head shoots up from laying down on the counter. He was holding his hand which was bleeding, it didn’t look too deep but still a pretty bad cut. Tommy takes a deep breath, he can do this. He’s been meaning to tell them anyways. It’ll be fine, he’s gonna be fine.

As Techno opens up a drawer to get out the first aid kit, Tommy gets up from his seat.

“Could I see it?” Phil nods in response and holds out his hand. Techno has stopped rummaging around to look at the scene in front of him. The air is thick with tension, but Tommy chooses to ignore it. He gingerly takes his dad’s hand, holding it softly, like any movement could shatter the man’s bones. Tommy inhales deeply and closes his eyes to focus.

The prickling sensation of pins and needles starts slow but quickly envelops his hands. its not as bad as the last time, since its definitely a smaller wound. A faint glow starts and as quick as it came its gone.

The boy opens his eyes to see his father giving him a comforting smile. Phil flexes his newly healed hand and quickly wraps Tommy in a hug.

“Thank you, Tom.” He says softly as he pulls away, a look of concern plastered on his face. Tommy shrugs and looks at his feet. “Could you not trust us?” He doesn’t answer the man’s question. He gets wrapped in another hug. “Tom, I’m sorry we made you feel like that. Really, I am. You should feel like you can tell us anything. We’re family.”

Tommy lifts his head up to look at the two in front of him, Phil has a soft smile and Techno just looks… awkward? Guilty? He shrugs it off, that’s a problem for future Tommy…

“I know I just… I don’t know it never felt like the right time I guess” He mutters to them.

“It’s alright, I’m just glad you feel like you can trust us now.” Phil says and with that the conversation is seemingly over as he walks out the kitchen. Technoblade just stares, his brows still stitched together. His brother quickly schools his face before he continues to put up the last of the kitchen utensils. Tommy was just leaving the kitchen when there’s a hand on his shoulder.

(He found me. hefoundmehefoundmehefoundmehefoundmehefoundme—)

“Thes,” The deep rumbling of his brothers voice calms him at once. It’s fine, he’s fine. It’s just Techno. “You feelin’ up to get your but kicked in Bedwars?” Tommy looks back at his brother with a determined grin.

“You wish, bitch! I always win, I am the superior brother!”

“Yeah, tell that to my record-breaking win streak, nerd.” The two race to the basement, where all of the video games are set up. Screeches of defeat and laughter fill the house. Tommy, surprisingly wins most of the time. He knows that his brother is just letting him win but that’s okay. Today was great, but all of this just feels like Technoblade is trying to make up for something. If the guilty glances he keeps throwing the boy say anything. Tommy’s sure it’s fine. If it was something to worry about Techno would tell him, he’d never betray Tommy’s trust like that.

Chapter Text

Look, Tommy already woke up in a bad mood today. It’s not his fault he barely got any sleep, and the customers at the bakery were absolutely awful.

He just wanted to spend some time with his family. They skipped movie night last week because Technoblade had work to do. And as much as Tommy loves his dad, movie night isn’t the same without his older brother.

Which left Tommy here, in the basement with Technoblade. His brother was booting up the game as Tommy fiddled with the strings on his hoodie.

He sighed, wishing he could shake off the heavy feeling pressing on his chest. It was really starting to bother him about the secrets between them all. It’s childish, he knows this, but a small part of him whispers that the three of them are nothing without trust.

Technoblade threw a controller to Tommy for him to catch. Finally, he could relax and bicker with his brother.

Although the world seemed to hate him today, so of course Techno’s phone started to ring. He was hoping the man would just ignore it, praying that it wasn’t his brother’s job.

“Hold on, Theseus, I gotta take this.” Techno mumbled as he walked upstairs.

Anger boiled in the boy. He just wanted one fucking day to relax, is that really so damn hard to ask for? (He knows rest isn’t the problem not knowing is.)

Tommy just wanted to be trusted enough for his family to tell him what the fuck could be that important. At first, it wasn’t a problem. Why the fuck would he care what their jobs are? Tommy just wants to know what’s wrong.

Every time they get back from work, they’re disheveled, and something in the back of Tommy’s brain just knows that they’re hurt in some way. Why can’t they just find a new job? Or, even better, let Tommy help them.

He can feel the sting of tears start in his eyes. His fingers dig into his palms as he tries to calm himself.

There’s a thump as Techno comes back downstairs onto the carpet floor, and all of Tommy’s efforts to calm the roaring wave of anger collapses with his brother’s words.

“Can’t hang right now, work stuff came up. Y’know how it is, kid.”

All of Tommy’s smothered down anger comes back tenfold.

“No, I don’t fucking know how it is, because you guys won’t tell me.” He sneers. His brother obviously wasn’t expecting it as his somewhat shocked face schools itself into that same blank expression.

“Don’t be like that, Tommy. You know why we can’t tell you.”

Tommy stands and walks over to Technoblade, anger controlling his brain.

“I don’t even know that! Neither of you two tell me the fuck is going on. Ever!”

“We can’t, Theseus. Trust me if I knew I could, I would.”

Trust.

The same thing that started the problem in the first place. Tommy has told them anything and everything at some point or another. Tommy has let his family make decisions for him even if he thinks they’re stupid because he trusts them wholeheartedly.

Techno is telling him that he needs to trust him. Technoblade, the person who won’t tell him what’s wrong when he comes home from work. Technoblade, who won’t even tell him what he does at work.

Fat tears roll down Tommy’s face.

“Trust you. You want me to fucking trust you?! You,” He jabs a finger into Technoblade’s chest. “Won’t even tell me what your job is. Your job! Who the fuck doesn’t trust their family to know what their job is?!” Tommy screams at his brother, he can hear someone coming down the steps, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Tommy, we just…” Techno trails off, he obviously doesn’t know what to say. For the first time, he doesn’t have a snarky retort or a smart counter-argument. It just spurs Tommy on.

“Just what?! Your job can’t possibly be that dangerous, Techno. You guys act like you’re fucking Mob bosses or supervillains or some shit.” Tommy laughs, but it comes out more like a sob. Behind his brother, he can see Phil bristle at his words. Good. They should be upset.

“Whatever, go do whatever the fuck it is that you two do.” He stomps past them all the way up to his room.

Why is it so difficult for them to just let Tommy know what’s going on? It was getting ridiculous at this point. They should know that Tommy couldn’t care less about their jobs as long as they’re safe.

Hell, they really could be the top supervillains and Tommy wouldn’t even bat an eye. Save, in making sure they’re okay.

He really needs to do something to take his mind off of this. Anger is still washing over him like waves, and his tears have barely slowed.

Tubbo and Ranboo, he needs to see his friends. People who trust him. Tommy sends his friends a text and heads to the front door. Phil and Techno aren’t in the living room, so they must’ve left, because of course there’s nothing more important than work.

“Boss man! What’s up? You texted out of the blue?” Tubbo pulls him into a crushing hug, which Tommy gladly accepts.

Ranboo’s on the couch fiddling with some paper, probably to make more origami shit.

Their apartment isn’t huge, but it has enough room to live comfortably. After Phil found out that they lived in the trio’s old shitty apartment, he paid for this one for Tubbo and Ranboo.

The living room was where you entered, and straight down the hall was the bathroom and two bedrooms. To the left was a kitchen. It was homey and never failed to comfort Tommy when he walked in, but maybe that was just the people.

“Technoblade’s being a real dickhead.” Tommy sighs and walks past Tubbo to flop onto the couch next to Ranboo.

“About the same thing?” Ranboo asks as he lifts his head from his paper craft. Tommy nods. Tubbo flops down next to him.

“I mean, what could be that dangerous and secretive?”

“Top secret stuff, duh.” Tubbo teases and promptly gets an elbow into his side.

“Yeah, but they should trust that I wouldn’t say or do anything.”

“Well, maybe Technoblade and Phil don’t trust that you would still love them.” Ranboo cuts in again. “Like if it was some serious secret stuff.”

“They know that I’d still love them.” Tubbo gives Tommy a pointed look. “I think…Whatever I came over here to forget about it, not talk about it more.”

Tubbo shrugs and tosses the remote to Tommy.

“Nature Documentary?” He asks while scrolling through the options.

“Nature documentary.” Tubbo agrees. 

And if he gets dozens of missed calls and texts, that's for Tommy to worry about later.

Chapter Text

The front door slams shut behind Tommy as he enters his house. It’s late at night, and there was about 50+ missed messages and calls from his family when he checks his phone on the walk back from Tubbo’s. Distantly, Tommy remembers he never told anyone where he was.

“Tom?” Technoblade asked from the living room. Fucking fuck. Techno pulled the full name. He’s in so much trouble.

“Uh— Yeah?” Tommy steps into the living room to see his brother sitting on the couch. Strands of loose and frizzy hair frame Technoblade’s face, a contrast from his usually pristine hair. He’s in a gray long sleeve shirt and black sweatpants. Technoblade quickly abandons the book and practically lunges for Tommy.

“Gods, kid, I thought something happened to you. Where were you?” Arms wrap around Tommy, strong but soft. The warmth seeps into his bones and he slumps into the hug.

“‘M sorry, Tech. I went to Tubbo’s, I didn’t think to tell you guys.” Tommy mumbles into Techno’s shoulder. His fingers grip onto his brother’s shirt, like the slightest gust of wind will separate them. Technoblade hums and moves to have both hands on Tommy’s shoulders. Gray eyes meet red and Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat.

“I’m not angry, Theseus. We’re just worried about you, Phil wouldn’t stop pacing around the room and I just—” Technoblade tears his eyes away for a moment and takes a deep breath. “I just couldn’t handle thinkin’ that you could’ve gotten hurt over an argument with me. I feel like that would’ve been on me, kid.” Tommy nods into the chest pressed against him and glances behind Techno’s shoulder.

Phil is passed out on the recliner to the right of the couch, his phone long forgotten in his hands. He’s also in his pajamas, a black shirt with green plaid sweats. There’s a few bruises littering his arms and Tommy has to try his hardest to not cringe.

Energy thrums on his fingertips, threatening to glow. Tommy instinctively starts to reach out his hands to Phil’s arms. Technoblade drops his arms and sits back down on the couch, clearly tired from all the emotional talk. (It’s never been the man’s strong suit.)

Being careful not to wake his dad Tommy crouches down and hovers his hands over Phil’s arms. He closes his eyes and focuses. Warmth comes flows from his chest down to his fingertips as light emerges from his palms. It’s not the comforting warmth like hugs and hot cocoa but Tommy continues, the itch of needing to help fading to the back of his brain.

As quick as it comes, the light is gone and Tommy is standing back up. He sits next to Technoblade and fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

“Do you have any other powers?” Technoblade asks after a minute of reading. They stare for a moment before Tommy answers. Should he tell?

“Of course I do, every big man like me has two powers.” Tommy smirks and brings his hands up to demonstrate. Light starts to dance around his fingertips, jumping from one to the other. He fiddles with it to make different shapes of animals with the glow and all the while Technoblade is watching intently, a soft expression gracing his features. “Sometimes it doesn’t want to listen, though.”

(Pins and needles shoot through his back as the man rips a few more out of him.)

“What do you mean?” Technoblade questions, fully closing his books in favor of giving Tommy his full undivided attention.

“Well, like I can make my whole body glow if I wanted to, except it’s hard to do it whenever I want. Usually it’ll try to start up on it’s own like if we’re baking together, or when we read myths. Or with my healing it usually takes on a little bit of the pain from whatever I’m healing. I also have this weird thing where I just know that someone is hurt and I have to help it.” Tommy puts his hands down, they feel tingly after the energy passing through them.

“So it’s like Phil’s instincts, but with healing.” Techno supplies and, yeah it’s exactly like that. Phil has bird brain which is a side effect of having wings, but for some reason he won’t show Tommy because of “work”. (Ugh.) It makes him a bit of a mother hen and sometimes makes him drag either Technoblade or Tommy, sometimes both, into his room just to chill for a bit. Phil’s bed is a pile of blankets and pillows but somehow, for as tidy as the man usually is, he prefers it like that. Tommy wishes distantly that he could have his bed like that too, but he knows he can’t risk that.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Tommy shrugs, “I’m going to head to bed, g’night Techno.” He starts over to the stairs when Technoblade stops him.

“We trust you, Tommy.” He says, and Tommy can’t find it in himself to believe it. “We really do, just— Never mind. Good night.”

Tommy turns back to the stairs and waits until he’s sure he’s out of sight before he lets the tear slip down his face. God, this is so stupid. It feels like Tommy’s world is ending, and all he can do is sit and watch. He can’t force them to tell him. He can’t force everything to be okay either. What he can do is hope that he’s not wrong for putting so much of his trust in them.

Tommy shuffles his feet into his room and locks the door behind him. He crumples to the floor, chest heaving and throat tight. The lights are off but the room is lit with the boy’s glow. Harsh and gloomy, blue and cold. If he falls asleep on the ground, crying until there’s no more tears to cry, then that’s for Tommy to know and Tommy only.

The morning comes quicker than Tommy ever wants it to. His back and neck hurt like a bitch but it’s tolerable. He’s had worse.

(“I don’t think I can heal again, please.” Tommy begs as his joints ache and his eyes desperately try to close. His brain screams to sleep, to do anything other than use his powers again.

“You can and you will. Or we can do this the hard way.” Tommy shakes his head desperately, please anything. Anything but that again. His head reels at the thought of it. “Then glow, my little phoenix.”

A bleeding hand is shoved into Tommy’s and it takes all of his will power for the glow to flicker to life in his hands.)

He sighs, getting up off the ground to get ready for work. He tugs on his uniform and trudges to the bathroom to make sure he looks a least a little decent.

Tommy stares into the mirror for a moment, taking in the sight. There’s heavy bags under his eyes and his lip is cracked and bloody from how much he’s chewed on it. Nothing new. He turns the lights off and makes his way into the kitchen.

For once, breakfast sounds appetizing. Phil is sitting at the kitchen island, eating cereal and reading some kind of paper. Old man. With a glance into the living room, Techno is nowhere to be found. Which is odd, because he’s usually up by now. Less awkward for Tommy, so he’ll count this as a win.

Tommy grabs the loaf of bread and takes two slices out, popping them into the toaster. While waiting for it to cook, he opens the fridge and grabs strawberry jam and a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

Toast pops out and Tommy makes his breakfast. He already knew this was going to be a long day. He could feel it in his bones. Don’t ask. Big men like him just know things, alright?

Boy was he right about it being a long day. First, the fucking coffee machine was broken, so he had to hurry and fix it while bitchy customers were yelling about their orders. The fuck was he supposed to do about it? He wanted the stupid thing fixed as much as anyone else and it’s not like he can make orders without it.

Then after burning himself numerous times while fixing the machine, everyone and their mother wanted the same fuck ass drink. Which it’s not like the drink was hard to make, it was just a regular coffee over ice, but it seriously gets boring after making the same drink 20 fucking times.

Now Tommy is in an empty store with a gun pointed at his face. The man holding it couldn’t keep his damn hands from shaking. Pussy. The great Tommy Innes was being robbed by a coward. Also, who the fuck robs a bakery?

“I said, give me the fucking money. I won’t ask again, and I *will* shoot.” The man demands, but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice is trembling and he can’t keep the gun straight.

Look, maybe Tommy should be more worried, but he could totally just flash a light in this guy’s eyes and book it. Tommy readies his hands, light beginning to shine, when the door of the bakery slams open.

Great, what now? More robbers? Heroes? (Please not him.) The robber turns to look and- Holy fuck. Holy shit. That’s actually just Thanatos. What. The. Fuck.

Was he robbing this place too? What is with these people? It’s a fucking bakery. There isn’t shit to steal! Well, the money, but you could go to the damn gas station to rob that. Why the bakery?

“A bakery? Seriously mate?” Thanatos asks and he clearly find the situation funny. Which is totally hypocritical, as he was here too.

The robber drops his gun and Thanatos steps to the side, letting the man run off. Tommy just watches the scene unfold, he’s not sure whether to cry or laugh at it. Shit, could he be in trouble for seeing Pallas hurt? Was that not allowed or something?

The light still shines in his hands, and he takes a moment before deciding, fuck it. He raises his hands and the light flashes into the villains eyes.

“Fucking fuck!” Thanatos shouts, but he doesn’t jump into combat or get aggressive. He shields himself with his wings for a moment before Tommy lowers his hands. “God damn, mate. Pallas didn’t tell me about that.” Tommy starts to raise his hands again when the man continues. “Wait! Chill out, I’m not here for trouble, mate.”

“Then the fuck do you want?” Tommy asks and yeah, maybe he should be nicer to a literal super villain, but he's had a long day so sue him. Thanatos raises his hands in his defense.

“I was in the area and saw that idiot. I know you helped Pallas, so it’d be pretty shitty of me not to help.” He explains. Tommy swallows, unsure of the moment. Should this be as cool as it is? Tommy is talking to fucking Thanatos. He’s the coolest, like, ever! (For a super villain.) Second only to Phil. The only man ever.

“Oh.” Tommy says dumbly, blinking at him. “Well, thanks then? Um, I’m about to get off shift so— Uh. — you can, like go back to your evil lair, or whatever.”

“I know,—”

“What? The fuck do you mean, ‘you know’? Are you guys, like stalking me?” Tommy squawks. This was just peachy. Exactly what he needed in fact. Two super villains stalking him. Thanatos’ feathers puff up at that, a clear sign that he's uncomfortable.

“No, no! Not like that, I just kind of assumed the place would close soon. It is pretty late for a bakery to be open.” Thanatos rubs the back of his neck and shifts from one foot to the other. Tommy eyes him for a moment.

“Sure, but I’ll have you know that I am a minor and it would be pretty weirdchamp for you guys to stalk a minor. Super villain or not.” Tommy grabs the wet wipes from the cabinet and starts to clean the place up. Crumbs and old coffee spills get wiped away.

“Whatever you say mate.” Thanatos chuckles and with that, the super villain is lost to the winding streets of L’manberg. Tommy sighs and continues to clean. (What is it that is so familiar about Pallas and him?)

Will he have to deal with these guys on a regular now? That would be… something, he assumes. It wouldn’t be terrible, they seem like nice guys, if you could say that about criminals. At least they’ve been pretty cool with him. Tommy just hopes he won’t get his family roped into all of this. He’s been involved with this shit before, it was less than ideal. Phantom pains make his back ache.

The bell jingles and Tommy turns around with a sigh, praying it isn’t another criminal.

“Hi mate, how was work?” The only man ever. Phil Za Craft. Thank the gods.

“Phiiiil,” Tommy groans, “It was horrible! The stupid fucking coffee machine broke, and everything was so fucking boring!” He puts the cleaning supplies away and walks over to Phil to drape himself over the man.

“Sounds like work, Toms.” Phil teases and Tommy groans again.

“Phil, the best of the best, carry me home.” Tommy whines as the two walk out the bakery together. The older simply rolls his eyes as Tommy locks up the bakery. They chatter back and forth as they walk side by side to home.

Tommy stops in his tracks when he sees something from the corner of his eye. Green, and not the nice kind of green that Phil wears. Bright, gross, neon green on the rooftops

“You okay?” Phil asks, looking back at Tommy. He looks concerned and Tommy shakes off the chills from the slight scare.

“I, uh. Yeah, all good big man. Just thought I saw something…” Tommy looks back at the building. He studies it for a moment longer. “It was probably nothing.” Tommy reassures, but it’s more for himself than for his dad. The two continue on.

The hero follows close behind, just in view for his little phoenix to see. It used to be so much fun to mess with his little play thing anyways. A little paranoia never hurt anyone. :)