Chapter Text
Tommy was 8, when he watched his parents be brought out of the torch of a building, burned with unforgiving flames.
Tommy was 10, when his aunt and uncle decided he was ‘too much’ to take care of.
Tommy was 14, and had been in the foster system for four years(at least).
Tommy is 17, an orphan, a runaway, and has been a vigilante for six months. He also has a job at a cafe.
Red Ferret is ‘21’, the best-known vigilante in New L’manberg, and a fucking nuisance to society.
--
It was a regular morning. Tommy was greeted with the familiar, yet dreaded sunlight streaming through the windows. It was Saturday, aka. The crime in the city is much more frequent.
Tommy groaned as he sluggishly threw the blankets off of himself, sitting up. He let himself take a second or two to wake up. Within a few minutes, he was dressed and standing in the middle of the ‘living room’. Really, his home was a rundown apartment, with an unusually big room, and a tiny-ass bathroom attached. His ‘bed’ - which was a mess of blankets and pillows on top of a garbage mattress he found on the side of the road - was in the corner, an old bookshelf partly blocking him from the rest of the room.
Tommy was alone most of the time, meaning it wasn’t unusual to wake up in an empty apartment, yet it was still lonely most mornings. His small apartment and vigilante career would really be better with a friend, a partner in crime, he thought. But by now Tommy was used to it, it was fine.
Tommy walked to his minifridge, opening it to look for some form of breakfast. He found lunch meat and a boiled egg. That’s cool, he must have robbed the deli again.
After breakfast, Tommy had just enough time to take a quick shower before heading off to the coffee shop. No, the Big Man himself was not going to get coffee . He was going to work, because despite how amazing he was at stealing, he wouldn’t be able to afford the apartment - no matter how rundown it was - if he didn’t have a job that paid.
Tommy managed to get to the coffee shop within minutes, seeing as it was located about a block away from the apartment building.
The cashier smiled at him as he waved, going to the back for an apron and notepad. It wasn’t one of those places where you go to the counter to order, then sit down. No, no. They had to have someone to write down the orders, then tell the ‘coffee makers’ - that’s what the employees that brewed and put the coffee in cups at the place were called - to make their coffee.
It wasn’t Tommy’s favorite pastime, but it was his job, and he wasn’t about to bail. Even when three dickheads decided to order coffee and stay at the place to drink it.
“Hello,” He approached the far table in the corner, noting that three people were sitting down and talking to each other, whispering as if they knew the government’s secrets. “Welcome to Coffee Curb,” - Couldn’t go with ‘corner’? - “May I take your order?” Tommy recited the words as he had almost everyday for the past few months.
“Yeah, um,” A man with curly brown hair started, looking up at Tommy. The guy tilted his head, some hair falling in front of his eyes. “How old are you?” He was wearing a yellow sweater, underneath a brown trench coat. - bit extra, innit? It’s summer, dickhead.
Tommy stared at him, as the other members at the table sighed, as if this guy asking questions to waiters was a regular - and annoying - occurrence.
“Seventeen. May I take your order?” Tommy kept a strictly polite smile on his face, hoping to be able to get the orders down quick, and move on.
The man looked at him a moment longer, before leaning his right elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand. “Are you allowed to work at a coffee shop?” He had a grin on his face, like he was fucking mocking Tommy or some shit.
“Well I work here, don't I?” Tommy said, his smile fading the slightest, before coming back with a hint of annoyance. “Can I take your order, sir? Or do you need more time to think?”
“I’ll order-” A man with shoulder length blond hair, and blue eyes said. He looked older than the other two, a green, striped bucket hat resting on his head. “May I have a black coffee, no cream, please?”
“Of course.” Tommy was thankful for a real order. Tommy quickly wrote it down on the paper, and though his handwriting was a bit messy, you could read it easy enough. “And for you?” The teen purposely turned to the third person at the table, ignoring that the brown-haired dick was attempting to speak again.
“Uh, five shots of espresso.” The third guy, a man with long, pink hair, said. His eyes were hazel, and despite looking bored out of his mind, his posture was alert, like someone would attempt to attack him.
“...Like, in a coffee?” Tommy questioned, getting a snort from the brunette, and a barely concealed chuckle from the blond.
“That’s it.” He nodded once, and Tommy had to take a second to wrap his mind around the order. Was the man gonna die? Would Tommy be blamed? Damn, he really didn’t want to get in trouble today. Especially after he had spilled like, three coffees on his manager - Bad - a couple days before.
“...Alright.” Tommy sighed, writing down the order. He turned to the first person, who was sitting up, and had a grin on his face, before he turned back to the blond and pinkette. “Anything else?”
The man made an offended squawking noise, sputtering something about; ‘What- me, I want to order.’.
Tommy mentally sighed, if he asks about his age, one more time- “Right, of course.” He turned back to the man. “What would you like?” Tommy said, his fake smile turning more exasperated.
“I want a caramel mocha. Iced, please.” He spoke quickly, nodding after he placed the order. Tommy nodded to himself, writing the coffee on the notepad, and looking back up at the blond and pink-haired men.
“Right. And will you be paying with cash or credit?”
“How do you know what credit is?” The brunette asked, and Tommy whipped his head around to face him, a glare on his face. His reaction caused the blond to use a hand to cover his mouth - an attempt to hide his snickering.
“Ya know what, bitch-” Tommy began, before being rudely cut off by his manager.
“Tommy!” He heard a voice yell from behind him; Bad. “Stop cussing out the customers! Also, language!”
Tommy suppressed a frown, clearly his throat at the half-laughing adults in front of him. “Excuse me.” Tommy turned and walked towards Bad, who paused in greeting a customer. “I wasn’t cussing him out !-” The three men only heard the beginning of the conversation before the man - a guy with black hair, dark brown eyes, and a black apron over his red, grey and black polo shirt - whisper-shouted something, and the waiter - Tommy? - shut up. Tommy handed Bad a slip of paper, and the older nodded.
Tommy grumbled, walking back to the table, muttering curses and general Bad-upsetting words under his breath.
“Cash or credit?” He asked, not attempting to smile at the dickheads.
“Cash.” The blond said, a warm smile on his face, like he and Tommy knew each other.
“Great.” Tommy said. “You can pay at the counter, your order should be out in a few minutes.” Tommy had given the notepad paper with the order on it to Bad, who probably gave it to Ant and that blond-haired fellow: Punz, or something.
A few minutes of semi-relaxing order-taking from much better tables, and Tommy was being ushered over by Bad again, who had a drink carrier with three drinks placed in it.
“I’m giving you this, to take to table five. I want you to apologize, and ask if they need anything else. Alright?” Tommy frowned, as he knew what table it was, and who was sitting at it. He did not want to go there.
“But, Bad -” Tommy started, but was cut off by the older man holding a hand up, lifting one finger to silence the teen.
“Please, Tommy.” Bad gave him a hopeful smile, and Tommy begrudgingly took the drinks to table five.
--
Wilbur was having a shit morning, to say the least.
First, a petty thief escaped him. A petty thief . Not that it mattered much, it wasn’t like they were murdering anyone, but it should have been easy! It was a fucking petty -ass thief!
No matter, though, because the day seemed to get progressively worse from that.
Next, Wilbur tripped in front of civilians, who filmed it and posted it on the internet, immediately attracting attention from Whisper fans everywhere.
Great.
Then, Techno had burned the coffee. How do you burn coffee? Wilbur has no fucking clue, but Techno managed to do it. So they had no coffee by 11:00 am. Again, a lovely occurrence.
Phil then managed to traumatize a child, by accidentally punching a creep in front of them.
Overall, it wasn’t a great morning.
But it would be a nice afternoon, because Wilbur was finally getting coffee. From a nice coffee shop that he had been to a couple times before.
And Techno and Phil were coming with him! It wasn’t a super often occurrence that the family was able to spend time off-shift together, and Wilbur was looking forward to it.
When they arrive at the coffee shop, there’s a sign inviting them to sit down. They find a nice table in the corner, and start discussing stuff. Mostly things about work, how patrol went, all that stuff.
When the waiter arrived, they looked to be fourteen, and utterly exhausted. Not by their expression, though. No, they had a grin plastered on their face, almost genuine. They looked exhausted by how they were slouched ever so slightly, like they were trying really hard to have good posture.
They asked for the table’s order, but Wilbur was more curious if this waiter was legally allowed to work there.
“How old are you?” He blurted out, and both Techno and Phil signed, Techno lifting up the menu to block his face.
“Seventeen.” The waiter answered simply. “May I take your order?” The teen asked again, and if he was being honest, Wilbur didn’t expect the boy to answer the question.
“Are you allowed to work at a coffee shop?” Wilbur kept bothering the kid, and eventually it led to the boy taking the orders of his family members, before him.
When they were waiting for their coffee, the waiter - who looked significantly less like they were going to put up with Wilbur’s shit - walked over to them, placing a drink carrier with their drinks in front of the family members.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior. It was unprofessional and rude.” The boy signed, and Wilbur sat shocked. That’s not what he expected the boy to say. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“We’re good mate, thank you-” Phil attempted to reassure, failing as he was interrupted.
“Actually,” Wilbur started, he didn’t want to make the waiter upset , just annoy him a bit. Wilbur was finding it very amusing that this kid looked ready to snap at him. “What’s your name?”
The teen took a few seconds before saying anything. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you’ve been such a good waiter, we want to put in a good word to your manager.” Wilbur grinned, resting his chin on his hand.
The kid glared at him, probably about ready to rip Wilbur’s head off. He seemed to remember something, eyes slightly widening just a bit, before looking satisfied with his answer. “David.”
“David, really?” Wilbur grinned. “Cause I distinctly remember your manager - or, whoever that was - call you something else; ‘Tommy’.” Tommy scowled at him, and Wilbur’s grin widened. “So, is it really ‘David’, Tommy?”
“Wilbur.” Phil warned, and Wilbur turned to face him. “Let him be, he’s just doing his job.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know calling customers ‘bitch’ was part of the job-”
“Alright, you wanker-” The waiter tried to say, but his words were cut off by someone else at the table speaking up.
“Alllright.” Techno interrupted, successfully making Wilbur’s grin fall. “You can go.” He said, looking at the kid, and Wilbur frowned.
“But Techno, I was just talking with him!” Wilbur whined, and Tommy looked genuinely confused by the whole thing.
“If by talking you mean annoying him and purposefully riling him up, then yeah, you were talking.” Techno deadpanned, and the kid snorted.
“Stay out of this.” Wilbur said, glaring at the kid, though it wasn’t angry, more pouting than anything.
The kid laughed, “Sure.” And with that, he was gone, walking back to another table to take an order.
It had been an interesting day so far.
Wilbur was maybe having a good day.
--
Tommy was having a bad time.
Yes, work had gone well, after the three old men left(they weren’t that old), but that didn’t excuse the night mishap.
Tommy was on patrol, doing what you do, y’know?
What was until that fucking police decided to be a bunch of wankers.
Tommy was doing his job, and stopping someone from hacking into a car - Or, whatever it is you do to steal vehicles.
He was cuffing him, listening to his earpiece, which he managed to - through a whole lot of trial and error - use to listen to the police radio, without being tracked, when suddenly;
“Vehicle four, we got a kid playing hero over here, red jacket, hood over his head. Can you inform him about the rules we have with legal heroes, all that stuff? I’ve got a thief I got to take care of. He’s on the crossing between 4th and 5th street.”
A crackle.
“Yep, on my way.”
Wait.
Tommy was on the crossing between 4th and 5th. Tommy was the ‘kid playing hero’. Tommy had a cop coming his way. Fucking dammit.
He was quick to wrap-up the attempted car thief after that.
Tommy was a bit quick in step, though it was more out of precaution than panic. That was until Whisper showed up.
Whisper was one of the more popular heroes, along with Philza and the Blade. His power was kind of like being super charming, or really good at convincing whomever he spoke to in a certain voice, to do whatever he wanted them to. The voice, to those it wasn’t directed to, sounded like a really tempting offer - like whoever was being spoken to had a choice .
The Blade’s power was electricity, though it used a lot of the hero’s energy, so he used his axe or sword more often than not.
Philza’s power was more like a physical advantage; he had wings. Massive, black, crowlike wings. It was impressive that he was able to fully hide them behind a cloak, during his regular day-to-day ‘civilian’ life. Maybe they could disappear.
And as Tommy was trying to creep away from who he assumed to be the police, a figure appeared at the start of the alleyway Tommy was hiding in. It wouldn’t normally be a problem to escape the police, but they had developed these almost impossible to find tracking devices - Tommy learned this when the police were able to follow him three miles, before he found a little bug-looking device on his clothes - and Tommy really didn’t want to have to deal with that.
“Listen, officer-” Tommy began, turning around, but stopped himself when he saw who exactly was blocking his escape; Whisper.
“Officer? No, you’re not that lucky this time, Red Ferret .” The fucking hero had a grin on his face, his sword in one hand, resting over his shoulder.
“Whisper. To what do I owe the pleasure?” It was at this moment that Tommy was immensely grateful for the B-grade voice modifier that was stitched into his mask, because it covered up the slight shake to his words.
Again, Tommy wasn’t a fan of heroes, but it was almost a badge of honour for vigilantes when one of them went after them- That is, if they were able to escape. Also, if you were standing a few feet away from a hero that was partly known for never letting their opponents escape, you’d be a bit shaken as well.
“Oh, y’know. I’m just doing my job; taking care of pests.” The hero’s grin only widened, and Tommy suppressed a scoff; he wasn’t a pest!
“Oh really? Should watch your back then, don’t want to accidentally stab yourself.” Whisper’s grin dropped, as Red Ferret gained his own.
Whisper hummed. “Let’s not talk too much on this, I have a schedule to keep up.” The Red Ferret barely had any time to react before the hero lunged towards him, luckily he was able to dodge back, coming away with only a small cut on his arm.
“Oh, you dick.” Tommy said, as he touched a hand to the wound, his face scrunching up at the sight of blood on his gloves. Great , his shirt was also ripped again. Heroes just assume that people can afford to sew up their clothes after every other patrol.
Whisper didn’t make a move or reply, just swinging the sword again, aiming for the vigilante’s middle.
If Tommy was being honest, when he saw Whisper, he was hoping he could just annoy the man with a few snarky remarks, and leave before they had to physically fight. Things never seemed to go his way, huh?
After a few more moments of Whisper swinging his sword, and The Red Ferret narrowly avoiding, the older looked just about done with the young vigilante’s dodging. This was solidified with how he yelled a few swears to the other.
“Just- let me turn you in! You gremlin!” Whisper eventually said, as he took a second to catch his breath.
“Gremlin?!” Red Ferret paused, distaste clear in his eyes - the bottom half of his face covered by his mask - “Listen here, bitch boy, I am no such thing-!” Tommy shouted back, tempted to lunge at the hero.
Although his rushed plan was put to a halt when Whisper barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, just the slightest.
The Red Ferret blinked, before smirking, r ookie move, dick he thought.
Red Ferret jumped towards the hero, who let out a surprised noise. The Red Ferret was able to successfully elbow Whisper in the chest, kicking the sword out of his hand, and tossing it a few feet away from them both.
“You-” Whisper's attempt at cussing the kid out was interrupted, when Red Ferret pulled out his knife, lifting it so it was just above the hero’s throat. The young vigilante had one foot on the guy’s chest, another on the ground next to them.
“Don’t. Say. Shit.” The Red Ferret spoke, pausing between each word, to get the man to understand that he was being hella serious. Well, mostly serious, seeing as it was implied that if the guy did say anything, Tommy would- y’know. But Tommy’s whole thing was not killing people. Whisper didn’t seem to know that, though.
Whisper stayed frighteningly still, eyes slightly widened and calculating.
Tommy look a breath, trying to steady his jumble of thoughts. His hand was still as it held the knife, though - from practice.
“Look,” The Red Ferret began, “I’m going to leave, and you’re going to wait three minutes before moving. Got it?” Whisper just furrowed his eyebrows, clearly waiting for a different option.
“Fine, two minutes.” Ferret said. When Whisper just raised an eyebrow, the Red Ferret grumbled, “Speak.”
“...I could catch you within seconds.” Tommy almost laughed at the sheer amount of confidence the hero had. “And that’s if I even agree to your ‘deal’.”
“If you don’t, well,” Ferret moved the knife ever so slightly closer to the man’s neck. “Who's the one with the knife to the other’s throat?” Red Ferret smirked, false confidence lacing his words.
“Oh, my dear vigilante,” Whisper leaned ever so slightly closer into the knife, to which Tommy carefully pulled the blade a bit away from the man. “You never had the upper hand.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, a loud boom sounded out. The vigilante shot his head up, no longer focusing on the knife he had at the man’s throat.
Whisper cackled, and before Tommy could tell him to shut up , a voice was heard, going along with the new figure at the beginning of the alleyway.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mate.” Tommy trained his gaze on the blue eyes of the figure, a man with two jet black wings that towered over the three figures in the alleyway.
The Red Ferret turned back to the man on his back, his hand starting to shake the sharp knife in his grasp, with all the tension forming inside of himself.
Tommy quickly grabbed the hood of the hero, forcing him to sit, with Tommy still standing on his legs.
Philza, - or ‘Philza Minecraft’, as otherwise called by the public - tsked, staring daggers into the vigilante. “Don’t try anything, we’ve got you surrounded.” The Red Ferret heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind them, blocking off the fire escape. He whipped his head around, seeing the Blade, with his axe resting over his shoulder. It wasn’t going to be easy to escape all three of them, much to Tommy’s dismay.
“Me, surrounded?” The Red Ferret forced a scoff that sounded confident. “Not bloody likely.” And he jumped up, sheathing the knife.
If Red Ferret just jumped at the right angle, he could duck under Philza’s wings, and make a run for it. Tommy had seen Philza fly more than a few times, and it would take about two seconds for him to be able to fold his wings back in, meaning that neither Whisper nor The Blade would be able to get past the wings, to chase The Red Ferret. A few seconds would be long enough to get a yard or two away, especially with Tommy’s enhanced speed-
Before Tommy could react, he was being kicked over, and was pinned to the floor. His head hit the ground, and pain rang through his body.
Tommy could vaguely hear a conversation, straining his ears to pick up the sound. He didn’t have a concussion, probably. It was most likely just the force at which his head hit the ground. He was fine, really.
“-him into the police.” Tommy could finally hear the voice - his head clearing slighty. The voice was soothing, Whisper then. When did the hero get up?
“We don’t even know if the police would even be able to keep the guy from slitting their throats, he clearly had you cornered, Whisper .” This voice was deeper, more gruff. So, the Blade.
“Hey! It’s not my fault that my voice wasn’t working: someone needed me to bail them out!” Ah, so that’s why Tommy wasn’t immediately forced to turn himself in.
Tommy heard the Blade take a breath, about to speak, probably.
“Boys, enough. You can argue after we handle this criminal.” Philza. The other two heroes sighed, The Blade cleared his throat.
Criminal? Why were they not going after the criminal, instead bothering the ‘Red Ferret’ himself? ...Oh.
“Is um… is the kid alive?” Blade questioned, and suddenly there was no more talking. The silence went on for too long, but it was almost calming. Tommy’s vision was kind of blurring, and only then he realized that he had just opened his eyes after a few seconds of listening to their talking.
“I- huh, maybe?” Whisper said, and fuck him, he didn’t sound nearly concerned enough.
Then again, Tommy never did great with pity, of all things.
“Wil, could you check his heartbeat, please?” Philza asked, Tommy always saw him as the leader, good for him for taking initiative.
Wait no, fuck you for being a bitch boy .
After a moment, the foot on Red Ferret’s stomach was being removed, and a hand was reaching to touch his wrist.
The moment he could, the Ferret launched into the air, his hood starting to fall off his head, before he tugged it back to cover the top of his head, fully.
The Red Ferret slid past Philza, who now had his wings folded behind his back. In a matter of seconds, he was booking it away from the heroes, breath quickening along with his heartbeat. It was almost like a rhythm. Maybe Tommy would create a song to go along with it.
Now though, the Red Ferret couldn’t rest until he was far away from the dickheads who were discussing arresting him.
Tommy’s ears twitched from underneath the hoodie, he could see a figure approaching from his left. He turned right.
Red Ferret was near a fire escape, he could probably climb it to get some space between himself and the heroes on his tail. Not literally of course, they were much too heavy to literally be on his tail.
The Ferret took a step left, before retracting at the speed of sound, and jumping right. He had learned that setting someone slightly off course was a good tactic, thank the biggest dick of a hero; - in Tommy’s opinion- Dream, for that.
His hands wrapped around the bars of the ladder, and in seconds he was scrambling into the closest open window.
“Up there!” Whisper shouted, and Red Ferret smirked, letting himself glance back to see the Blade just barely a few seconds behind his tracks.
The Red Ferret swung open a door, running right past it. It would be a good obstacle if The Blade had to go around it.
As he was running down a hall, Red Ferrets spotted a window, sprinting towards it.
Even if he were to get cut with the glass, it would make it more difficult for The Blade to chase him, through the shards.
The Red Ferret reached to grab his knife, fumbling a bit before slamming the handle into the glass.
What Tommy did not prepare for, however, was for an alarm to sound out, blaring into his ears.
“Tech- Blade! Grab him!” Tommy realized that he had frozen, standing right before the window. The glass had already left marks on his skin, cutting the fabric, but he didn’t feel it with the sound filling his ears.
Red Ferret quickly ducked under the frame of the window, standing with his feet on the bottom of the wood. His right hand held on tightly to the wall, once hidden claws digging into the side of the building.
“Hey- Fuck, the kids gonna fall.” Tommy could hear Philza say, and part of him registered that the three heroes were still after him, but all he could focus on was how beautiful the city was at night, from a height like the one he was at. Maybe he could get a bit closer, even touch the lights. It looked so peaceful-
“Well, get him down!” Someone screamed, and Tommy had to shake himself out of his thoughts. No need to go down that rabbit hole.
“Well, what’ll it be, fellas?” The Red Ferret questioned, and all three heads snapped towards him. He adjusted his footing to be able to look at them.
“You’ll turn yourself in, and forget this -” Whisper started, but Tommy could recognize that the hero was attempting to use his voice , to make Tommy turn himself in to the cops. Not gonna happen.
Red Ferret leaned his head into the hand gripping the wall, so it blocked his ear. He used his other hand to do the same with his left ear.
“La la fucking la! Can’t hear ya, fucker!” Red Ferret screamed, and judging by the way Whisper and the others grimaced at the volume of his voice, they heard him.
Philza turned and said something to the others, before turning back to Red Ferret. Tommy carefully unclasped his ear, the other still securely blocking his right ear. It was getting kind of tiring just leaning over the edge of the city. Was the alarm still going?
“You have two choices,” Whisper finally said, and Tommy sighed. Bargaining, now? Really? “One: You come with us, and we turn you into the cops-”
“No happenin’!” Red Ferret immediately swore.
“-Two: You fall, and - most likely - die.”
Oh.
So they saw it as only one option, really.
Whisper smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. Philza stood, looking at the vigilante with an expectant look. The Blade looked entirely bored and unbiased with the whole situation.
“Well, I mean, I guess…” Red Ferret began, his voice softer than usual. He lifted his head so his ear was no longer covered, as he adjusted his footing again. To the heroes, it looked as though he was able to step inside the building.
Then, Tommy looked back at the city, all of the buildings glowing from lights where night owls, people with the night shift, and insomniacs stayed awake.
Red Ferret turned back to the heroes, “I choose option number 2.” And with that, and a two fingered salute, Tommy was falling through the air.