Chapter Text
Wilbur disappeared off the side of the building, using one hand to stop himself from falling as he made his way down the fire escape. The plan was simple- wait out the Red Ferret’s willingness to converse with Phil and follow after him once he left the rooftop. It would’ve been fair of Wilbur to think that Techno wasn’t nearby, but with the way he had whispered the plan into their shared comms, it wasn’t quite looking that way.
Wilbur stalked silently after the vigilante, watching from afar as he apprehended a mugger and gave an old lady back her purse.
Wilbur followed the kid for longer than he even kept track of, perking up when the guy became increasingly more fidgety, looking over his shoulder every few minutes. Eventually, the vigilante quickly scaled a building, silently making his way up a fire escape ladder and into a cracked open window. Wilbur grinned, following quickly after.
He watched the vigilante out of the corner of his eye, making an effort to be quiet as he made his way after him. Sure, he could just relay the location of the apartment to his teammates, never let the vigilante know what he knew- but he couldn’t help the part of him that wanted Red to know. An eye for an eye- or something like that, seeing as the vigilante had top-secret information on the city’s top three heroes.
Climbing up the last ladder, Wilbur looked up to see said vigilante ripping off his hood, eyes scrunched shut as he stretched his arms above his head. The sudden motion of an identity-concealing item being removed caught Wilbur off-guard, but he continued to keep his head down. Blond curls fell out of the hood, squished slightly from the extended time they had spent hidden. The vigilante’s muscles were still tense, as if he was awaiting an ambush in his very home. Wilbur held back a smirk- it wasn’t an ambush , per say, moreso a warning .
Wilbur noted the way the mask was still tied securely behind the boy’s head, but decided that could wait till a later time- he doubted the vigilante would trust the heroes in the slightest if one of their members followed him home and saw his face right off the bat. They had to garner a little trust, at the very least.
Wilbur reached for the edge of the window, purposefully kicking a metal bar as his hand closed around it. The vigilante whipped around, eyes wide with fear as his gaze landed on the hero. Wilbur held back a smile, pushing the window open.
“What-” The man sputtered, fumbling to pull his hood back over his head. “ What the fuck?! ” He sputtered, reaching for something else at his side- a weapon, probably.
Wilbur let himself grin, holding a finger to his lips in a ‘ shh ’ gesture. He winked, “Now we’re even.” And let himself disappear off the railing.
He high-tailed it away from the building, suspecting Red would make a move to follow after him-- stab him, maybe. He was hoping they could keep their so-called ‘partnership’ afloat a little longer, though, seeing as they hadn’t gotten any valuable information on the vigilante.
Once he was a fair distance from the building, he held a hand up to his comm, sighing before pressing it. “We got it- he knows.”
A crackle and confirmation followed, telling Wilbur that it was time to head back home.
–
Tommy watched as Whisper disappeared from the window, cold dread pooling in his gut as the realization fully hit him- they knew where he lived . Something in the back of his mind wanted to chase after him- probably stab the shit out of him.
He couldn’t force himself to move, though. His eyes were frozen open, his joints feeling as if they had been locked. A shiver wracked through his body as a blast of cold air hit him- the open window slowly cooling the inside of his apartment.
Tommy took an unsteady breath, chest tightening. They know, they know, they fucking know. He cursed himself for being so careless, letting a top hero find out where he lived. He couldn’t stay there- but there was no way he’d be able to find a decent place to stay within his budget, in time- this place was a miracle on its own, disregarding the mold in certain windows.
He mentally thanked Prime that he hadn’t removed his mask before the hero appeared.
Tommy took in a breath, trying and failing to calm his rapidly beating heart.
There was no way out of this. Even if he miraculously survived whatever plot they had in store, they could just
show up
at any moment. They could see his face- find out
everything about him
.
Tommy shuddered when another breeze hit him, forcing himself to step forward. He slammed the window shut the second he was close enough, flipping the latch so it was locked.
This was fine. There were a thousand worse things that could’ve happened- mainly his face not being covered, Whisper immediately ambushing and arresting him- you get the picture.
Tommy backed away from the window, hands held out placatingly as if it might jump out and attack him. Stranger things had happened.
He let out a shaky breath, carefully moving towards his dresser to grab a black t-shirt. He also grabbed a roll of duct tape.
“This is fine.” Tommy whispered, moving back towards the window. “This could be a thousand times shittier- they could have thrown a grenade in here. That probably would’ve been worse” He held the t-shirt upright, biting into the tape in order to rip it. Once the top was secured, he taped the bottom end to the windowsill, adding various bits of tape around the sides of the fabric.
Once he was fairly confident in its ability to block out any natural light, Tommy stepped back. He dragged a hand through his hair, hands shaking uncomfortably.
Tommy huffed, balling his fists in an attempt to stop the shaking. He shoved them in his pockets, forcing down the flood of various fear-fueled thoughts that threatened to overflow. Except- something hit his hand when he clutched at the fabric.
Brows furrowed, Tommy pulled out a miniature sapphire, the gem glittering in the light of his over-head lamp. A pin and clasp were secured to one side of the device- similar to the backing on an earring.
Philza had said that it wasn’t an earring, though, just something that Tommy needed on his person, and close enough to his mask that they’d be able to hear him when he used it.
A spike of fear shot through Tommy, the thought of them placing a tracking device in the comm hitting him like a truck. That was how they fucking found him, wasn’t it? How could he have been so fucking thoughtless? He should have known that the heroes would jump at any opportunity to track where he was going, to find and crush the vigilante that had been a thorn in their side for the last few months. Screw Tommy and his stupid fucking brain chemicals fucking him over.
Tommy pulled roughly at his hair, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He let out the breath he’d been holding- it was done, there was no use beating himself up for something that had already happened; that wouldn’t fucking get him out of it. But- what was Tommy supposed to do, now? It wasn’t as if the heroes hadn’t already figured out where he lived , there really wasn’t much else they could get from a tracker. And, given he knew what the tracker was, he could full well throw it in a dingy alleyway and leave it there forever.
But- there was some part of him that hesitated at that. What if he.. kept it? He wouldn’t carry it around as a civilian - he wasn’t that stupid - but if the heroes were going to stab him in the back anyway, what better way to to know when then to have a direct line of communication with them?
Tommy shakily lifted the comm to his mask, glaring down at it. He tapped the front of the jewel, a quiet beep sounding out.
Huffing, Tommy held it down, waiting for the beep before speaking into it. “Fuck. You.”
–
It was nearing 3am when Wilbur got home, slipping inconspicuously through the halls of the Hero Tower before he reached his family’s floor. Techno had let Phil and Wilbur know that the vice-president had signed off on their ‘vigilante plot’ - as the older had put it - and agreed to give them up to 6 months of ‘privacy’ before they sent a specialized hero after the Red Ferret, instead. Wilbur thought the amount of time was unreasonable, given the scale of said vigilante.
The thought of Red Ferret taking part in the mob - or, even better; being a villain’s pawn - just didn’t seem all that likely. He was probably a twenty-something university student that got pissy when he couldn’t join the heroes, and decided he could do a better job on his own- not something Wilbur saw particularly worthy of the whole fake partnership along with the presidential approval.
Wilbur slipped through the front door, flicking it locked behind him. He stretched his arms above his head, fully prepared to sleep for the next 12 hours.
Just as he was reaching for his bedroom handle, a click sounded right beside his ear- the telltale sound of someone using the comms.
The voice that followed wasn’t one Wilbur was familiar with.
“ Fuck. You .” The comm hissed, followed by another soft click . Wilbur paused where his hand was resting on the handle, a slow grin spreading across his face. Looks like someone figured it out .
Wilbur held one hand to his own emerald earring, pressing it down. “Just a precaution, dear vigilante. No harm no foul.” A click followed his own message, signaling he was free to continue on with his life.
Even after having showered and moved to the living room, there had been no response from the vigilante, leaving Wilbur to assume that had been the extent of their conversation.
And then- “ Only dickheads are named Wilbur. ” It was so ridiculously unrelated that Wilbur actually laughed , Techno looking up from his book in order to pin him with a ‘really?’ look.
Wilbur tapped his own comm, grinning, “I beg to differ, actually. Besides, only children have a codename after an animal .” A second, then-
“I am not a fucking child! ” Came the responding shriek, causing both heroes to wince. “And it’s not like I got to fucken pick my own name- They choose that shit for you, you prick! ”
Techno sighed, book officially set aside. He held his own comm down, “Maybe don’t become a vigilante, next time.”
There wasn’t a response for a while, giving the pair the opportunity to get back to their respective activities.
“.. Hello, Bobby. ”
Wilbur coughed, immediately followed by aggressive cackling. Techno blinked, completely and utterly confused.
“Heh?” The older’s face scrunched, reaching for his comm. “The heck you mean ‘Bobby’ ? I ain’t responding to that blasphemy, kid.”
Soft footfalls alerted the brothers to their father entering the room, eyebrow raised. “Right, what’s all this, then?”
Wilbur tried to catch his breath to no avail, breath stuttering as he continued to laugh.
“The kid’s calling me Bobby . What kind of name for The Blade is Bobby ?” Techno asked, eyes scrunched in a mixture of confusion and mild disgust.
“Ah.” Philza’s eyes widened slightly, a realization seeming to hit him. “That’d be our fault mate.” He took Techno’s confused stare as an invitation to continue. “We may have told him our names when we went to give him the comm, last night.” He had the decency to look slightly sheepish, Techno’s expression turning mildly panicked. “Sorry, mate.”
The man blinked, “Wait- how does that relate to the Ferret calling me ‘ Bobby ’?” He questioned, always one to ask the important questions.
Phil rolled his eyes fondly, “Ah, yes, well. The kid seemed to think having our hero names start with the same letter as our real name was shit, and, with that logic, decided your name must be Bobby.”
Techno raised an eyebrow, panic dissolving into an unamused expression. “Right.”
Wilbur sucked in a breath, coughing out another laugh. “I think it suits you.”
Techno blinked, thoroughly done. He raised a hand to his comm. “I will burn your house down.”
Phil muffled a startled laugh in his elbow, Wilbur smirking. A click , “ I don’t have a house, you dick. Though you already fucken know that, don’t you? ”
Techno raised an eyebrow, “I don’t remember you burning down his apartment last night, Wilbur?”
“I didn’t!” Wilbur immediately defended, “I- you know there’s a difference between a house and a flat, right?”
Techno paused, huffing. He tapped his own earpiece, “I’ll burn down your flat.”
Wilbur cackled.
–
Tommy was freaking the fuck out. In what universe was it normal to be chatting with the top three heroes as a vigilante ?!
It was fucken insane, in Tommy’s opinion. Nothing was going to top this in terms of ‘ what the fuck ’ levels.
Tommy had been sitting on the floor of his apartment for the last 30 minutes, staring at the comm in his hand. The heroes had stopped replying with anything besides laughter after he had cussed out the Blade, and had made no move to continue their little back-and-forth. He had kept his mask on for the entirety of their conversation and had yet to take it off, despite the uncomfortable feeling of it rubbing up against his skin.
So he sat on his floor, hood down and mask up as he stared into the empty space in front of him. It was nearing 4am, and Tommy was starting to wonder if he had work in the next few hours- part of him considered calling off on the off-chance he did, but he wasn’t sure how sane he’d be able to stay in an empty apartment all day.
Another part of him wasn’t sure if he could stay sane either way.
Sighing, Tommy pushed himself to stand up, shuffling out of his vigilante gear and into more comfortable pajamas. He contemplated taking his mask off- if the heroes did have a tracker in the comm, who’s to say there isn’t also a camera? But- if the heroes did have ill intentions towards him, it’s not as if they wouldn’t already have his apartment, height, hair and eye color, build, approximate age- you get the picture. His face wouldn’t make that much of a difference, would it?
Despite that, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to pull the mask off. If someone broke in, they could easily yank it off of him, sure, but at least Tommy would know they had his identity.
Tommy huffed, pulling a blanket up to his shoulders, tossing and turning until he found a comfortable position. On the chance he did have work in the morning, he was fairly certain he’d be a thousand times more likely to hate himself for not going to bed when he had the chance, so getting sleep was ideal. -Ideal; not easy.
Prime, did Tommy sometimes wish he had the papers to get some fucking melatonin.