Chapter Text
Techno lips twitched into a frown.
Wilbur was pulling his oversized brown coat over his shoulders. It was old, worn, and dirty. Perfect, Tommy had said when Wilbur had scrounged it up from the depths of the lost and found.
Techno didn't know why, but it felt so horrible seeing Wilbur like this. His perfect hero image was marred by dirt and grime. To see something that usually glitters be covered by a layer of dirt and rust.
He looked wrong to Techno, somehow. He looked filthy, dirty. His hair was messy as opposed to the usual neat curls that he knew Wilbur took such pride in. It was as grimy as the rest of him.
His normal clothes were more on the punk side, but were obviously well taken care of. The ripped jeans were a style choice, and the ruggedness was to look cool, not to scare. A fashion choice to look cool, not cold.
It was completely unlike the torn clothes that were layered on top of each other.
Jeans that have rips in the knees and were hastily sewn together with other fabric and various patches. His hair was being smothered by a grungy maroon beanie. The jacket that he now wore was covered in various different stains, like all of the clothes he was wearing. His gloves were fingerless, not by design but by the rips that Wilbur couldn't quite manage to sew together.
Wilbur looked like someone you crossed the street to avoid.
It made Techno's heart drop low in his chest.
Techno shifted in his chair, hoping to work out the feeling of wrongness in his chest.
Wilbur was intensely frowning at himself in the mirror. Judging every spec of dirt and every stain.
Techno halfheartedly smiled. He didn't like the look he was seeing in Wilbur's eyes. Not that he was going to let Wilbur know.
Techno whistled lowly. “Geez, I thought you were ugly before, but I didn't think it could get any worse!”
Wilbur's reflected face twisted, offended, he turned and slapped Techno's shoulder in retaliation. Techno grimaced when Wilbur had touched him with those nasty gloves. Who knows where they had been and what sort of bacteria had encased the threads of the fabric.
Wilbur turned back to the mirror. His body twisted and turned in all different ways to fully take in his undercover identity. The look of disgust only grew the longer he took in every detail.
“I look disgusting!” Wilbur exclaimed in horror.
“Yeah, you smell like it too,” Techno mockingly waved his hand in front of his nose.
“Fuck you!” Wilbur turned and slapped Techno on the shoulder much harder than he had the first time. Techno didn't have it in him to pretend to be even the slightest bit sorry.
Wilbur rolled his eyes and plopped down in a chair with a long and tired sigh.
Techno just couldn't keep his eyes off Wilbur. There was just something about his carefully curated messy look that rubbed him the wrong way.
It's been a long time since Techno had allowed himself to cross that type of person's path outside of work.
If Techno hadn't known better, he could say that Wilbur looked like he had lived in the slums all his life. He looked dangerous and awful and old beyond his current years.
Wilbur's head tilted to the side as he finally noticed Techno's unblinking gaze.
“Uhm, are you alright?” Wilbur scratched the back of his neck nervously.
“I’m just in awe,” Techno widened his eyes, playing it up.
Wilbur groaned and threw his head back. “Alright, I get it! I look disgusting. I definitely feel disgusting. Can we discuss something other than how awful and nasty I look?”
The door to Phil's office slammed open with a loud bang as it collided with the wall, shaking the few pictures hanging up.
“We sure can!” Tommy sing-songed as he made his entrance, with Phil reluctantly ducking under the doorframe trailing after him.
If the trashed look barely fit Wilbur, Tommy wears it like an old coat.
Maybe it was because Techno had never seen Tommy look so comfortable in his own skin before.
This prison uniform had been ill-fitting. It had been several sizes too large and hung on Tommy's skinny and malnourished frame.
The dirt and sweat had been washed from his skin only to be meticulously dusted back on. His hair had been washed and brushed out, then carefully styled into a bird's nest to look unkept.
His clothes consisted of baggy jeans with holes at the knees. They were poorly stitched together with red thread. His shirt was a stained white baseball tee with red sleeves. A dirty maroon jacket was pulled over his shoulders to complete the rugged look.
“There's a few things we need to cover before Wilbur and I head out,” Tommy smiled.
It wasn't as cute as Techno had thought.
Behind cuffs and a jumpsuit, Techno could delude himself into seeing a misguided child. There was no illusion here. No, this was Tommy in his natural element. Dangerous and cruel.
There was some shuffling around Phil's office. It wasn't a large office, but it wasn't overly small. With the combination of four people and the amount of space Phil's wings take up, the area was cramped.
After weeks of plotting and taking care of Tommy’s health so he didn't collapse at any bit of strain, they were finally prepared to actually go on the mission.
Wilbur curled up into what is now his armchair in Phil's office. There was no way Techno was ever going near that chair again after Wilbur had sat in it with the clothes he was wearing.
Techno found himself sitting on the edge of his armchair, nerves steadily rising the longer everyone went without talking.
Phil took his place in his chair behind the desk, blatantly ignoring how Tommy had taken to sitting on the corner of his desk. Phil could have grabbed another chair, but Techno believes it's out of spite.
After a short time of knowing Tommy, he couldn't blame Phil one bit.
“What do we still need to talk about?” Techno leaned forward, bracing his arm on his knee as he rested his chin in his palm.
Tommy’s grin widened when he caught sight of Wilbur, completely ignoring Techno’s question. “You’re looking great, Wilbur. I hardly even recognized you!”
Wilbur bristled like an angry cat. “Yeah? You look as filthy as ever. Seriously, do you even know how to take a shower, or do you just like torturing everyone around you with your stench?”
Phil raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Tommy, Wilbur. Let’s stay on page, yeah? I would rather you guys not get into a fight before you go on a very sensitive mission.”
Tommy straightened up and saluted Phil. “Sir, yes, sir! I will only speak about things of most importance, sir!”
Wilbur put his head in his hands with a groan. “Oh my god, you're a literal child.”
Tommy tilted his head with a cheeky little grin. “Don’t sound so disappointed, Wilbur. This child is the only reason you're going to get front row tickets to the criminal underbelly of L’manburg.”
Phil sighed, already tired of Tommy's antics. “I still don't understand the point of you two going out.”
Tommy looked over his shoulder at Phil, a smile almost sinister. “C’mon, Birdza, I haven't been there in years. Who knows what's guarding the entrance now? If it’s still standing that is.”
Philza looked over at him with tired eyes. “Just go.”
—
“All right, this is it.” Tommy stepped forward and threw his arms out. “The slums.”
Tommy’s hands fell down to take place on his hips as he looked around and whistled slowly to himself. “Man, this place has changed and not for the better.”
Wilbur did a slow turn, taking in everything around him with growing horror as he slowed to a stop behind Tommy.
Wilbur was born and raised in District Three. He wasn't rich, but he wasn't struggling for money. The closest to poverty he had ever seen was district four, and even then, he rarely went out to the outskirts where the buildings get denser, and the road turns to gravel from little maintenance.
For the past several years, he has spent most of his time in District One. When he had finished basic hero training, he had eventually moved to the district for ease of access. It was easier to take the short bus trip rather than drive two hours to the heart of L’manburg.
The contrast between District One and the slums was like night and day.
Tommy hummed and began to walk further into the slums when he was done looking around. He led both of them further into the close-knit streets that were far more than overcrowded. Far enough that when Wilbur glanced over his shoulder, he had a hard time seeing the twinkling lights of the city.
If Wilbur thought this place was bad in theory, it didn't even touch actual reality.
There was a heavy oppressive force that weighed down on everything. It sucked the life out of all of its surroundings, leaving the world around it lifeless and cold.
What once were bright, colorful buildings were now dull and peeling. Bricks in the form of buildings were stacked as tall as the eye could see. They were propped against one another as if they couldn't handle standing on their own.
The roads and alleyways were tight, leaving Wilbur feeling claustrophobic and sweaty. Anyone or anything could be in those shadows.
Trash was everywhere. Cans and wrappers littered the cobblestone streets. Broken furniture and hardware were left lying around as if this were a dump.
Every person they passed was hunkered down, shielding their body from perceived threats. Eyes were sharp. Calculating. Cruel. Eying everyone around them with such a distinct look of paranoia and hostility.
Their outfits had no rhyme or reason, with layers on top of layers that had contradicting patterns and schemes. There wasn't a single article of clothing that wasn't stained, torn, or filthy in some way, shape, or form.
It was… Disheartening to see. Wilbur had to pull his eyes away every time he caught himself staring.
A deep, dark feeling grew within his chest. It started in his heart, and with every beat the darkness reached through his veins and spread across his body, making his limbs weak and his feet heavy.
They walked around the place for a long time. The sun that was over their heads was steadily dipping behind the tall buildings, casting the streets in a dark light. Candles were lit in windows as they passed, but that was the greatest source of light, as working lamposts were few and far between.
“You need to stop staring, “Tommy quipped from ahead of him.
Wilbur's eyes tore away from the unfortunate souls with guilt.
“I didn't think it was this bad,” Wilbur murmured under his breath.
Tommy scoffed.
“What?” Wilbur asked, annoyed.
“What did you expect?” Tommy sneered as he continued to walk further into the slums.
Wilbur watched as Tommy shoved his hands into his coat pockets with a frown.
“I’m not sure,” Wilbur said dumbly.
“What? Was this place supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows? A loving community?”
Tommy’s smile and his words did not line up with each other. “This place isn't called the slums for a reason. Like, look how nasty this place is? I think District three looks better than this place, and it has just been blown to smithereens!"
“Tommy-” Wilbur bit his tongue, not wanting to say anything else that might be misinterpreted as judging.
He didn't like the mood swings coming from Tommy. One moment, he was fine. Calm. Neutral. The next, he was sneering like everything Wilbur said was an insult, and the next, he was cracking jokes about how horrible this place was.
“Don’t argue with me, bubble boy,” Tommy wagged his finger in Wilbur's face. “I know you were thinking about it. I mean. Who wouldn't? This place just has got to be nasty if it houses people like me.”
Wilbur grimaced. Because, yeah, Tommy has got him there.
He had thought that once upon a time.
It was well known that the crime rate in the slums was high. Horrid people found refuge here, where there was little to no government interaction. It was like this place was cut off from all forms of justice, leaving it a prime place for scumbags and villains to run wild and uncontested.
Yet, Wilbur shook his head in denial.
“I know this place isn't the best, but I wouldn't go as far as to say that-’
“You wouldn't go as far as to say anything because of how privileged you are. You get to sit in that little tower of yours and joke and laugh at all those that are less fortunate than you and call it a day, as if you turn your head away, everything nasty and unsightly will all just disappear!”
Wilbur felt a stab to his heart. Anger began to rush in at the accusations.
Because how dare Tommy just say that to him? To his face, even. Especially after what had happened to District Three.
“I work restlessly to help and protect the citizens of L’manburg both day and night.”
“Yeah? Well, I think you and your little buddies missed a whole fucking section. Believe it or not, just because we're out of sight doesn't mean we aren't a part of L’manburg!”
“That’s not my fault! None of this is my fault!”
“Just because you haven't done anything doesn't mean you're not to blame!”
“That's hardly even fair! You can't blame me for the actions of the council, it's not my fault that they can’t help-”
Tommy froze. “Shut up,”
“What?” Wilbur reared back, angry. He wanted to spit back and tell that little criminal just where to shove it.
Tommy raised a hand, silencing Wilbur.
He looked serious.
“Do you hear that? Tommy whispered.
Wilbur rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. You can't just try to distract me just to win the argument-”
“Shhhhh!”
“Did you just shush me?”
“shhhhhh.”
Wilbur sighed and decided to humor Tommy, if not in an exaggerated manner. He lifted a hand to his ear as if it would help him actually listen.
Wilbur looked around as he strained to hear whatever it was that Tommy was speaking about. He could hear the loud bustling of the city. The shuffling of feet in overcrowded areas. People are pushing against each other to get where they're going. Cursing, name-calling, and threats were muttered from people's mouths.
There was nothing. Like he had thought. Tommy had just told him to shut up, and Wilbur listened. Hot embarrassment filled his stomach and mixed in with his rising anger.
“See, I told you. There's nothing. Now, can we stop-”
Then he heard it.
A loud cry in the distance. It was muddled, scared. It was a cry for help.
“What was that?” Wilbur whispered.
“We’re close,” Tommy turned from him.
Wilbur's eyes widened in disbelief. “What?”
“Just follow me and stop asking so many questions.”
Tommy turned on his heel and briskly walked in the direction of the cry. He pushed against the crowd without remorse and carved himself a path to his destination.
Wilbur wasn't having that easy of a time. Where Tommy unapologetically shoved, Wilbur winced and apologised and flinched when he collided with someone head-on.
Eventually, he found himself out of the dense crowd and into a maze of alleyways with Tommy, who barely paused.
“It should be around here,” Tommy muttered.
Tommy's head continued to bounce back and forth as he looked into dark alleyways and into the shadows of archways. The entrance was around here somewhere.
Wilbur looked around as if he knew what he was looking for. “What does the entrance even look like?”
“Please, I don't have the money!”
Wilbur's eyes widened, and he reached out to grab Tommy’s shoulders, yanking him back from an alleyway.
“What?” Tommy hissed.
“Did you hear that?” Wilbur asked, already knowing that Tommy had.
“Yeah? And?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.
Wilbur took a step away from Tommy in search of the voice. Tommy looked over his shoulder and back at the alleyway before shrugging and following Wilbur.
“I’m pretty sure that was the alleyway. What are you even looking for?” Tommy questioned.
Where did the voice come from? Wilbur approached the corner of the building ahead of them and moved to peer around the corner. Was it over here…
Wilbur peered around a corner to see a woman cowering by the front door to her home. A sketchy-looking man was on her doorstep, a bat in one hand. He was lightly hitting his other palm, trying to look threatening. He wore a thick mask to conceal his identity along with dark and rugged clothes.
Two other men stood slightly behind him, all wearing the same masks and outfits. Something like what a gang would wear. They all sported weapons on their hips or were holding them in their hands.
Malice hung heavy in the air.
Even with the little knowledge Wilbur had of the underground, he could take a pretty good guess at who or what this person was.
“No? Are you sure, Ms. Katherine? You didn't have enough money to pay last month. My boss just so graciously gave you a few months extension to get what you owe him and this month's rent, and now you're saying you don't have anything at all?” The man hit the head of the bat with his palm with a loud smack.
“Please,” Katherine begged. “I barely have enough food to feed my kids. I can't pay your fees either.”
“Hmmm,” The man cocked his head to the side. “I'm sure we can work this out, ma’am. Say, you said you have kids, yeah?”
“Yes,” Katherine said tiredly, unsure as to what the man's game was.
The man looked behind him at the other men standing guard. “Go get 'em.”
The woman's eyes widened in fear. “What? No! Leave them alone!”
The goons broke from their line and pushed past her. One physically shoved her aside to get into her house.
“Ma’am, resist anymore, and someone's liable to get hurt.”
That had the woman freeze in place and turned to face them. “Please, they have nothing to do with this. Just leave them alone!”
Wilbur had to do something. He just had to.
He couldn't let this woman's kids get hurt. Not when he was here, and he could do something about it.
Wilbur clinched his fists and steeled himself to step out from behind the corner.
Tommy’s hand gripped his shoulder, tight, stopping him in his tracks.
Wilbur huffed and looked over to him.
“What?” He hissed quietly so he wouldn't be overheard.
“You can’t go out there, Wilbur,” Tommy whispered.
“I can't just let those kids get hurt. I have to help them!” He insisted.
“And what happens after that? What happens after you get to play the hero for a moment, huh?” Tommy gripped his shoulder even tighter, his expression darkening.
“It doesn't matter because her kids will be safe!” His voice was rising.
“Yeah, for now. Do you think those guys would just back off after you leave? They won't. They won't ever leave her alone. They would come back with more men and more firepower, and they would make her pay for their embarrassment because they cannot reach you.”
Wilbur shook his head in denial.
With every word, Tommy jabbed his finger into Wilbur's chest, driving the point even deeper into his chest. “Do you understand, Wilbur? You. Cannot. Help. Them. Not this time.”
Wilbur stepped away from the corner with a defeated sigh, helplessness weighing heavily on him.
Tommy was right. He couldn’t help her. Not right now, not in any meaningful way.
“There are no heroes here. Helping her right now will only fuck her over in the future. Just let this go. Now, come on, I think I found the entrance earlier-”
“Can I just watch? Can I just make sure she’s safe?” Wilbur pleaded.
Tommy paused, clearly debating losing time with a lost cause and their mission goal. Any other day and in any other situation, Wilbur would agree and just get this mission over, but- But Wilbur had to see this through. He had to make sure this family was safe, even if he couldn't help them.
“Fine.” Tommy ran his hand down his face. “Fine, just fine. I don't care. Have at it. It's not like we have all the time in the world.”
Wilbur turned away from Tommy with a guilty expression to peek around the corner again.
And the sight had Wilbur covering his mouth in horror.
There were three kids lined up in a row and on their knees. The youngest one was openly sobbing as the other kids tried to look bravely ahead, ignoring the gun that was pointed in their direction.
The mother was being held back as she sobbed and pleaded with the men to let her babies go.
“Now, miss. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’ve missed a lot of payments, and my boss is not happy with you. But he's still lenient. As long as he takes something from you in equal value, you can keep living happily.”
“What do you want from me?” Katherine choked between sobs.
“The heroes have been cracking down a lot these days. Making it harder and harder for us to do our jobs. We’ve been losing our men left, right, and center. Ain't that a shame?”
The woman glared at him, offering no sympathy.
The man whistled. “Yeah, I agree. Thing is, we need more hands around here. Turns out, you've got more than a couple just lying around here.”
The woman looked at her children with growing horror. “No.” She shook her head in denial. “No, no, please. They're just kids. They don't need to work for someone like him, please,” She pleaded.
“Here’s the deal,” He said firmly. "You either give us the money that's owed now, or we'll just take your eldest, and we’ll be on our way.”
“No!” She shouted. “You stay away from my kids!”
“That's not the deal,” The man said cruelly.
“I-I” Katherine stuttered. Helplessness and desperation lined her eyes as she stared at her children.
“It's okay, mama!” The eldest called out from the line. “It's okay.”
The eldest looked at the leader with resignation. “I’ll go.”
“No! He’ll die, please!”
The man's eyes gleamed. “Perfect, that's settled.”
Tommy whispered into his ear, “And now it's time for us to go.”
Wilbur nodded, a little dazed and horrified at what he had just watched.
Tommy gripped his shoulder and steered him away.
“Alright, I think the alleyway was this way. Or, it was around here somewhere. Damn, did I lose it?” Tommy was idly speaking to himself, adding noise to Wilbur's silence.
“Is it always like this?” Wilbur said quietly.
“Always like what?” Tommy chimed, a little too chipper.
“There's just no help here? There's no police or heroes or… anything?” Wilbur sighed. Sadness and guilt were weighing heavily on him.
When he imagined this place, it was nothing like this. He was taught in school that this place was just a bit impoverished. Those who were a little less fortunate wound up here. It wasn't a bad place, and it was still taken care of by the government.
It was just old and falling apart, but that was okay. It was okay because they didn't live there, so it wasn't their problem. The slums were left to waste because no one cared enough to help them.
“I mean… yeah.” Tommy shrugged. “Sometimes you'll see vigilantes running around, but they never really last that long, y'know?"
“Yeah,” Wilbur choked.
It was horrifying for him to think about how much the hero committee had let this place down. How much the government had let this place down.
There were more than enough heroes to go around. There's no reason that one or two of them could be spared to patrol this area, right? There had to be a reason why they weren't patrolling here. Some... logistics or something. They couldn’t just not patrol here.
Right?
Yeah. Yeah, there just had to be a reason, and he'll find it.
Wilbur cleared his throat. “W-Where was that alleyway you were talking about?”
“Yeah… Let me search for it. No reason, I didn't lose it or anything. But if I did, this would just make the search a lot quicker. It'll take just a moment, hopefully.”
Tommy's eyes rolled into the back of his head, showing just the whites of his eyes, before his eyelids fluttered closed. His body, which was so full of life, stilled like a statue.
Wilbur looked over at him apprehensively. It looked like he was just resting his eyes, but Wilbur knew better. Tommy was using his freaky futuristic powers bullshit. It was uncanny to look at, Tommy standing as still as he was with no reaction to anything outside of his body.
He wrapped his arms around himself.
“I’ll uhm, just keep guard, I guess.”
Wilbur looked around with nothing else to do but just wait.
It was so dark out. Wilbur shivered and squeezed himself tighter.
His heart and mind were in turmoil.
He didn't want to think that the hero committee was neglectful. He loved them with all his heart and owed them a lot. They took him in, trained him, and gave him a home. A team. Even if his team wasn't getting along very well at the moment.
But this place was a testament to neglect. It was written into every feature. It was written into the walls covered in chipping paint. The trash and broken things that were just littered everywhere. It was carved into the people who flinched at loud noises and glared at anything that dared to get close.
This place was a free-for-all.
It's horrifying.
There was no way the other heroes didn't know about this place.
Wilbur shook his head; familiar anger was clawing up his throat.
No. They were just neglecting this place, and for what? Why would they do that? What was the reason? Was there a reason?
Wilbur didn't know, and it irked him.
He felt like he didn't know anything in the past several months, and it's embarrassing.
If he didn't know this. That something so terrible lurked just beyond his district, his home, then what else was out there? What else was he missing?
“Found it.”
Wilbur jumped and whipped his head around to face Tommy.
“Wow, I wish I had that recorded,” Tommy smiled with mischievous glee. “You should have seen your face, Wilbur, it was hilarious.”
Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Come on, let's just go find this entrance and get back to the tower.”
Tommy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, yeah, but I won't forget that. It was priceless, really. I didn't know someone's eyes could open that wide-”
“Tommy-!” Wilbur shouted.
“Okay, fun police, it's this way.” Tommy smiled widely as if he wanted to say more.
“Don’t.” Wilbur glared at him until Tommy shrugged and began to lead them through the maze of alleyways again.
“Alright, so we go around this corner and this one and this one. Past that pile of crates and that line of laundry and-! Here we are. Hopefully.”
Tommy stopped, and Wilbur stepped up to his side.
Wilbur looked around the alleyway and found nothing of interest. It was just as dark and just as sketchy as all the other alleyways they had passed. There just seemed to be more boxes and trash cans littering this one.
“How do you know?” Wilbur questioned as he looked harder.
Tommy walked into the alleyway, spurring Wilbur to follow him. Everything looked remarkable until they approached the back of the alleyway.
“Dead end? Geez. What a wonderful entrance.”
‘Isn't it?” Tommy snarked. He leaned down to a sheet of wood and grabbed the bottom. He pulled it away from the wall just enough to form a gap. “Perfectly hidden. What police officer or hero would have the guts to go all the way back here and go through a seedy hole in the wall.”
“Shit,” Wilbur said in surprise. “It really is here.”
Tommy smirked at him before turning back and peering into the entrance. He was seemingly searching for something, but Wilbur wasn't sure for what.
“Tommy?”
“Let's go back, shall we?”
“Yeah,” he agreed easily enough. He was far too eager to get out of the dirty clothes he was in and to take a long, hot shower.
“I think I've had enough of this place to last a lifetime.”
“Too bad we'll have to go back soon, huh?”
“Don't remind me.”
Tommy slid the wooden panel back down carefully so as not to make any noise and dusted off his hands on his jeans. He looked up at the sky with a sigh. “I was really hoping we could avoid being here this late.”
Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
Tommy grabbed the hood of his jacket and pulled it forward, obscuring his face. He looked over at Wilbur and gestured for him to do the same with his own jacket.
“If you thought this place was dangerous in the daytime, you need to think twice about coming out at night,” Tommy warned.
Wilbur looked at the entrance of the alleyway and what little light there actually was.
“What now?”
“Now we find our way back and hope we don't run into anyone we wouldn't want to meet.”
Wilbur clinched his fists. He really didn't want to try and navigate this place again, and he sure as hell didn't want to see how dangerous it gets once the sun comes down.
“Alright, just stick close to me, and we’ll be just fine.” Tommy's smile fell flat.
‘I can take care of myself.” Wilbur crossed his arms, still warily looking out of the alleyway.
“Yeah, sure. That's why I said we’ll be fine. Now come on, it's not going to get easier to leave the longer we wait.”
And together they peeked their heads out of the alleyway. After a moment of looking around, Wilbur looked to Tommy, who nodded back at him. They both stepped out of the alleyway and began their trek back to the hero tower.
Wilbur thought it would be a lot quieter at night, but boy, was he wrong. While a lot of the crowds had barred their doors and windows, other types of people came out to play. Sounds of cruel laughter echoed off the walls along with the sounds of things breaking.
Tommy guided them through the alleyways as best as he could.