Chapter 1: Karma
Chapter Text
Tommy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and tried not to let his eyes droop closed. The grey, cold walls of the parking garage had taken up most of his vision for the better part of five hours. This wasn’t really how he’d expected the mission to go. Somehow he’d hoped there would be more action.
The air in the car was getting stale. He rolled his window down and let his hand flop out the window. Late August humidity meant that it wasn’t much better outside of the car.
To anybody who would have seen him, Tommy looked just like any other seventeen-year-old. Waiting in his car for, well, something.
He was trying not to check his phone. Not that there was anything for him to check, all his info had been wiped and replaced six weeks ago. His old contacts were gone. There were a few he’d committed to memory, but it had been months since he’d contacted anybody from his old group.
They would probably have new numbers now too, and Tommy really didn’t care enough to try to find anyone. He hadn’t had many friends in Dream’s gang, but that’s what you got for being the gang leader’s apprentice.
A bird chirped from somewhere in the garage. Tommy sighed, and rolled up his window. He wished he could have kept a few mobile games on his new phone. The walls didn’t offer much for entertainment.
Movement on his left drew his attention away from the cement in front of him. A small, red car pulled slowly into the parking spot on his left, stopping just a little too close to the lines. The driver's door opened, and Tommy cursed under his breath as a very old woman slowly made her way around the front of the car.
This could fuck everything up. The mission was supposed to be low profile and easy driving, but that was never a guarantee, and Tommy would prefer for there not to be any Grandma’s in his way if he had to make a quick exit.
He settled back into his seat, crossing his arms and tilting his head back. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the old lady taking her sweet time fumbling with the passengers side of her car. Luckily she hadn’t seemed to notice him sitting there. Not that an old lady would be a threat to Tommy, but his employer’s paranoia had set in over the past couple days. And Tommy had one rule for every job he did.
Don’t get noticed.
The old lady headed towards the elevator in the corner of the garage, purse clutched at her side. Tommy let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
He shouldn’t be this rattled. It was one person. One person who was very, very close to his car, but only one person. The rest of the parking garage was quiet.
“There’s four levels,” Tommy had asked, as the plans were being drawn up weeks ago, “No way it’ll be empty.”
He’d earned a wink and a smile from his higher-ups. “Good thinking, I like it. But we can guarantee. For starters, it’s an old garage. One of the last ones downtown to switch from a teller to an automated system, in fact. And it's so underused already, that the developers don’t give a damn. And when we get in and jack up the hourly prices, you won’t see a single car past the first floor.”
“Seems like a flimsy plan to me,” Tommy grumbled.
His tone was met with raised eyebrows. “Trust us, kid. We know how these things work.”
Tommy had held his tongue, but when he pulled into the practically vacant garage at noon, he’d had to admit it seemed like things had gone well. Or maybe this place was just always empty.
The door to the level swung open. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the lady had left.
Instantly, Tommy snapped awake at the wheel. There were two people, both entering the level from the stairs in the far corner. He followed them with his eyes, taking in their outfits, their posture, trying to guess how long it would be before they were in the car.
Not a single thing had changed about the way he was sitting. He still looked like a bored kid in a car.
The pair was making their way towards him, their footsteps echoing throughout the empty garage. Tommy’s heart decided to take the rhythm of their steps as a personal challenge and began racing faster in his chest as the two approached his car.
Okay. This was it. This was it. He’d taken a gamble, joining the Angel’s crew, and it had paid off so far. The missions he was asked to drive had gotten bigger and bigger, it had been weeks since he had to beg to be put on the road. He’d even been asked to choose the car for today, and had been over the moon every second he’d spent scouting the downtown, trying to judge what was the most unobtrusive ride.
This was the moment he’d been hoping for since he joined up. Driving for as high up the ladder as he could get. The right hand man of the Angel himself.
“I’m doing what?” Tommy had screeched when he’d heard the news, voice cracking in a way that was not very manly or professional. Wilbur Soot made a show of covering his ears as Tommy gawked at him. The older man had taken Tommy aside into a private room to deliver the mission. Maybe he’d known what Tommy’s reaction would be.
Tommy didn’t care. Technoblade! The Blade! In his car!
“And me,” Wilbur added. “What’s got you so excited? You’ve met Techno before haven’t you?”
“Yeah, well,” Tommy said, “Driving Technoblade around will practically be like driving The Angel himself. And just between us, I don’t think The Blade was too taken with me back then.”
Wilbur chuckled softly, looking bemused. “Well, you do take a little getting used to.”
Tommy remembered his first day. He’d heard of the so-called Emerald Ring before, and knew it’s leaders' faces well. Nothing on earth could have prepared him to meet one of them when first showed up on the gang’s doorstep, hair singed and dripping wet. He shivered at the memory. Technoblade had hardly been impressed with Tommy’s scrawny form.
Tommy kept his eyes in the rearview mirror. Hopefully today his steady hands on the wheel would change what Technoblade thought of him.
The trunk clicked open.
The Blade himself was standing behind the car, shrugging off a suit jacket and tie, dropping them into the trunk all while making easy conversation with the second figure. Wilbur Soot kept a firm hand on the strap of his backpack, nodding along at Technoblade’s comments.
To any observer, the scene looked like a pair of friends carpooling home after the workday. To any security camera, (not that there were any online, that had been long since taken care of), nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
Tommy knew better. If the smug set of Wilbur was any indication to the success of the mission, there was about fifteen million American dollars in computer parts and microchips, topped off with cold, hard cash.
The Angel likes to line his pockets. An unofficial rule, but still a noteworthy one.
The back door of the car opened. Wilbur slid in with an easy smile, the backpack held tight in his lap. His curly brown hair was pushed to the side, instead of where it hung typically over his eyes. He’d pulled a dark plaid jacket over his t-shirt and worn jeans.
“Hi, Tommy. Thanks for picking us up.”
Wilbur had been there to vouch for Tommy when no one else was willing to, after an almost disastrous trial run involving a dozen diamond necklaces and a very rickety school bus. He’d offered Tommy a place to stay in-between jobs, an old flat right in the center of the city, where Tommy had been able to come and go as he pleased. Most of the Emerald Ring looked down on kids Tommy’s age, thinking of them only as inexperienced or naive, just looking to make a quick buck. Tommy had met most of the experienced kids his age, and their assumptions weren’t too far off.
Wilbur never treated Tommy like a teenager. He consulted him when they were planning drives and stakeouts, valuing Tommy’s skill as a driver and letting Tommy know when he thought he’d made a particularly good choice in location or a smooth maneuver off the expressway.
Wilbur had never asked about the day that they had met. If he’d drawn the connections between Tommy’s burnt clothes and the fireworks still exploding on the docks, he had never said anything. Tommy was pretty sure Wilbur had no idea about Dream. That was the way he wanted it.
Tommy knew better than to get attached to people. But there was something about Wilbur that made him think of a brother he’d never had. Wilbur’s words lingered in the air as the older man rummaged through his backpack. “Hi Tommy, Thanks.”
Tommy’s heart swelled a bit at the words. He felt like Wilbur wasn’t just talking about the mission, but that he was genuinely happy to have Tommy along for the ride.
“Anytime, big man,” Tommy said with a grin. His expression faltered as Technoblade shut the passenger door with a bit more force than necessary. The Blade’s dress shirt was slightly rumpled in the collar, and he tugged at the neck of his sweater vest with one hand, the other running over the custom locks on the door. His short, cropped brown hair looked a bit messier than usual.
“I don’t know why you’re the one in jeans, Wilbur,” Technoblade said, grimacing. “My jacket was so stiff it took me a minute to bend my arm.”
Wilbur laughed. “I’ll take it up with Skeppy.”
“He’s being wasted in costumes, you know.”
“Don’t look at me. Tommy, are we good to go?”
“Yup, all set.” Tommy flexed his fingers on the wheel, trying to contain his grin. “Do you think I could…”
“Go for it,” Wilbur said, giving a thumbs up from the back where he was double checking the shaders on the back window.
Tommy pulled the gear into reverse. “The Angel flies on golden wings, men!”
The car backed out carefully.
“You know, somehow I expected more action after that delivery,” Wilbur said, seat belt clicking. Tommy swung the car out towards the ramp, giving Wilbur the side-eye in the mirror.
“Inconspicuous, that’s the rule of the road!”
“Fifty minutes until rendezvous,” Technoblade said. “And I’d head out towards Elm, Tommy. There'll be a bit of noise over on Twelfth.” His tone signaled the end of casual conversation. The occupants of the car slipped into silence as it turned out of the garage.
Tommy kept his grip on the wheel firm, and let the car blend into traffic. Wilbur and Technoblade had done their part, now the mission was in his hands. For all their professionality, Tommy could have sworn there was tension in the air as they passed the scene of the crime.
In Tommy’s daydreams, Technoblade and Wilbur had run from the shattered windows of a bank, and hopped into the convertible that he always drove in those sorts of fantasies. Also, they were all wearing sunglasses.
It hadn’t really played out that way. (Maybe there were sunglasses somewhere in the trunk.) Tommy was getting experience or exposure or whatever, so it was okay. The real crime scene was a professional looking tech store with large glass doors, all still intact. There hadn’t been any stick up’s involved, but he was pretty sure that at least one safe had been cracked inside the building.
Rustling in the back caught his attention. Wilbur shoving the bulky backpack down by his feet. A thin sweat had broken out on his forehead. Before Tommy could catch his eye, Technoblade was turning around ever so slightly. His expression was curious, like he was waiting to see what Wilbur would do next.
The curly-haired man looked up almost guiltily. He seemed to catch something on The Blade’s face, and slowly leaned back in his seat. Tommy breathed in through his nose. The tension that had been building in the car sagged.
Tommy kept driving. Traffic had slowed all around the block, probably because of the police cars lined on the side of the road.
Maybe they had cracked more than one safe. Tommy remembered something about breaking into a warehouse in the back.
He passed by the parked vehicles with practiced ease. As much as Tommy loved a convertible, they were just too damn noticeable. His slim, grey car let him do what he was best at: slipping into the role of an onlooker. Carefully, he slowed to a crawl, peering just slightly over his shoulder before picking up speed as they reached the intersection. The busy rush hour traffic kept them completely camouflaged.
The light ahead of them had just turned red. There was a police car on the side of the road two spots behind them. It’s lights blinked in the mirror, and he could see Wilbur trying not to turn to look at it. Tommy willed the light to turn green.
A few seconds later it did, and they drove off. In Tommy’s daydreams they would be chased down this road into the sunset, guns sounding and money swirling in the wind behind them.
The thought sat in his mind until it soured. There was a reason he was driving for the second-in-command of a major scene, and it wasn’t because he spent a lot of time dreaming. Better to focus on the road ahead.
Wilbur relaxed again as they merged onto the expressway. In a few seconds, they’d be going fast enough to be safely long, long away from the scene of the crime. This would be easy.
Tommy’s gaze only sharpened. He’d seen other driver’s get cocky when everything seemed to be going right. He’d even been along for a ride when an older kid got a bit too confident and drove right off the road while trying to set fire to a loose fifty dollar bill. Tommy had never seen someone get kicked out the door faster.
He’d learned from it all. Not to be an idiot, mostly, but also to pay attention. This was his chosen line of work, and when his presence behind the wheel was requested, he was determined to deliver.
A few drops of rain hit the windshield. Tommy glanced up, unworried. Slightly ahead of them, clouds were gathering, blue sky darkening to a stormy gray.
“Some people would call it karma, you know, to get rained on after a job.” Wilbur said from the back.
Technoblade stared ahead, unbothered. “Good thing we’ve got a roof.”
Tommy smiled lightly, flicking the wipers once as the rain came down harder. Maybe it was karma, he thought, but if this was as bad as it got for third degree robbery, he wasn’t too worried.
“Hey, Tommy,” Technoblade said, “You’re not using a map.”
“Nope.” Tommy hit the wipers again, holding his breath as the car passed under an overpass. Technoblade waited before asking another question.
“Do you memorize the route?” His tone was a measured attempt at casualness.
“Yup.”
“Every route?”
“Yep.”
Technoblade hummed, and Tommy felt something inside of him warm. Technoblade gave praise about as often as he committed robberies in only the third degree.
The rain was making the road ahead of them slick and hard to see. Tommy switched the wipers to medium.
Karma was going to be a bit more of a bitch then they’d thought. The rain only pounded harder.
Between moments of blurry sight, Tommy saw another overpass coming up a few hundred feet away. The road was mostly empty, traffic heavy on the oncoming side.
Tommy realized he was holding his breath.
A shot echoed through the air. Wilbur swore loudly. In the passenger's seat, Technoblade twisted, trying to reach under the glove compartment.
“We’re being fucking shot at.” Tommy said, ignoring the fear creeping into his voice.
“Welcome to the big leagues, kid. Are you going to drive or what?” Technoblade’s voice, while raised, was more controlled than Tommy thought was possible. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw him adjust the window, gun in the other hand.
Well, Tommy had asked to drive bigger missions. Once again, he focused on the road.
A second shot rang out. Tommy could almost see it whizz past his window.
Gunshot. The car swerved hard to the left. Tommy swore, their fucking tire had been blown. His knuckles turned white on the wheel. He tried to wrangle control back, turning the wheel hard to the right. Too fucking far. The car swerved again.
Another bullet zipped through the air. Glass shattered from behind Tommy, and Wilbur screamed. In the mirror, Tommy saw red gushing from the older man’s shoulder. Technoblade cursed under his breath.
“Get us fucking out of here!” Wilbur shouted, clutching at his shoulder with his uninjured arm. The command was enough to keep Tommy from staring, shocked. He flinched, and looked back to the road.
The overpass was almost directly ahead of them. In a few seconds they would be right under the shooter. Reeling from the scene in the back, Tommy glanced up.
His fingers fell slack.
There was somebody on the overpass. Holding a machine gun, head tilted down in the rain. A face that was pink and scarred. Wet, dark hair.
They were close enough that Tommy could see their face falling open, slack jawed, and if he just had a second longer, he would be able to tell if it really was-
Somebody’s hand clasped over his. Tommy gasped and registered Technoblade leaning over from his seat, stormy faced with a firm grip on the steering wheel.
In the rearview mirror, Wilbur's face was white and hard set. His hand dripped with blood. The seat was definitely stained.
A few yards behind their car headlights cut through the rain.
Tommy blinked, and the headlights separated into three, following behind them. Black cars spit up rain under their tires, gaining on them with every second.
They pulled under another overpass. With a grunt, Technoblade twisted the wheel to the left. The car cut across traffic, their blown tire flinging them into the bushes by the side of the road.
The car rolled, once, twice. Tommy slammed forward into the seatbelt, then back into the headrest. His head cracked against it, and he saw fireworks before he was thrust into the airbag.
The car stopped rolling. Tommy choked out a cough, head pounding.
They were upright, far enough into the bushes that Tommy could just see the road in the top couple inches of the windshield. Cars rushed by, but there was no sight of the black vehicles that had been behind them, or the sharpshooter from the overpass.
Tommy didn’t know what to think about the latter. Luckily, he didn’t have to.
“Tommy, get the fuck out of the car.” Technoblade made his way out of the car, wincing as he brushed his side against the edge of the door. Tommy fumbled with the seatbelt, his eyes widening Technoblade limped past. Techno’s hair was sitting lopsided on his head, and the man seemed to notice the same thing, and reached towards his head with a grimace.
He lifted his hair straight off his scalp andTommy’s vision swam. His head wasn’t that bad, which must mean:
“Blade, you wear wigs?”
“Tommy, fucking move.” Alright then, that was that.
Technoblade pried the side door open and helped Wilbur out, then stretched over past him with another sound of discomfort. He reemerged with a med kit, and beckoned for Wilbur to follow him around behind the car, where the bushes had been flattened.
Tommy’s seatbelt gave away, and he clambered out of the car, head throbbing. His vision swam and he nearly doubled over, clutching at the side of the car. Trying not to vomit, he put one foot in front of the other, taking shaky steps towards the back of the car. The dirt looked soft and when his knees gave out a bit past Techno and Wilbur, he let himself sink the rest of the way to the ground.
Technoblade crouched at Wilbur's side, carefully removing his bloody shirt from around his wound. Technoblade had a med kit - where hell had he pulled that from - and Tommy saw rolls of white bandages on the ground by his feet.
He could hear the storm letting up. The trees provided good cover and the ground was dry, but they had tumbled down a slight hill and water was running to the bottom, just under the car.
There wasn’t really much left of the car at all. The roof was squashed and the remaining tires were forced out at angles. Windows that hadn’t been shattered were cracked. The front of the car sported at least a dozen bullet holes. Whatever had shot at them had almost finished the job.
A wave of nausea hit Tommy and he laid back on the ground. The treetops above him pointed up at the sky. The clouds were pulling away. Blue broke out from above, and Tommy gasped in a breath.
What the hell had just happened? He raised his hands above his head, looking at his trembling fingers as if they could give him an explanation.
It had all been going so well. The mission, the drive, it had all been pulled off without a single hitch until—
It was like an anvil fell from the trees, hitting Tommy right on the head, pounding his skull into the dirt. He grasped at his head and groaned, trying to remember how to think.
The overpass. It was raining. It was raining, and the road was slick and there had been a man with a gun on the overpass.
Tommy’s hands froze in place. His groan of pain died on his tongue, body freezing and thawing all in a matter of milliseconds. The person on the overpass, he had just seen them for an instant, could it possibly have been long enough…
Tommy tried to remember how to breathe. His head was throbbing and his body ached. The sky flickered and swam as Tommy’s eyes drifted closed.
“Good job kid. Next time you aim for the head and not the shoulder.”
“I didn’t-”
“Oh, I know exactly what you did. We’ll have a nice long talk about it later. Right now I’ve got a package down on 34th and a bagel with my name on it. You think about what you did a bit, okay?”
“...Okay. Sorry.”
“That’s my kid. Don’t fuck up again.”
Chapter 2: Things that have been bruised
Summary:
Wilbur was eating candy in the grass when he returned. The pink-haired man sitting next to him caught Tommy off guard until he remembered Technoblade’s untimely hair reveal. Whatever conversation the two were having stopped as Tommy approached. He gave them a halfhearted smile and leaned back on his elbows in the grass. It was quiet.
“Let’s go,” Technoblade said eventually. Wilbur tossed a sour patch kid at him. Technoblade caught it in one hand and threw it back into Wilbur’s mouth. “Niki’s here.”
Notes:
Super excited for this chapter folks, it took a while but I really really like it! I actually broke the first chapter up into two parts because it got kinda long, but this is the half that I like more haha.
Massive thank you to Aells for beta'ing!!
TW for this chapter: descriptions of injury, blood
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Something was hitting Tommy’s side, a dull ache growing with each time it made contact. He groaned and rolled over, ignoring the stick that pressed into his back.
“Nope. You’re not getting rolling in the dirt when you’re all bloody. Get up.”
Tommy’s eyes cracked open. Technoblade was standing above him, starting to tap his foot again. He swatted carelessly at the man's leg.
“Fuck off. I’m dead.”
“Then you’re really crap at this job. And probably fired,” Technoblade snorted.
That was low, Tommy thought. Like he hadn’t just messed up everything, like he hadn’t lost everything that he’d worked for.
“Fuck off, Technoblade,” A little voice in the back of Tommy’s head told him to stop being an ass. Technoblade could probably, definitely fire him, and he wasn’t really making a good case for himself.
Technoblade nudged him again. The part of him that had a cheek pressed against the cold, dry ground told him to kick Technoblade back. He was fucking tired.
“You haven't said anything else about my hair. I’m starting to actually get worried. Is your head okay?”
That… sounded almost genuine. Tommy grimaced and sat up. Pain spiked between his eyes and he tried to resist the urge to lay right back down in the dirt.
Technoblade squatted next to him, “What do you remember?”
What did he- fuck. Waves of hurt and shame washed over Tommy. The rain, the bridge, his hands going slack on the wheel. He’d had one chance to prove himself, to prove that he’d belonged on this level, and he’d fucked it up.
“It was raining,” He choked out. “We got shot at. Wilbur’s hurt, the car crashed. You robbed a bank or some shit. I don’t know.”
Technoblade flicked mud off his pants. “Pretty much, yeah. You smacked your head, but it’ll be fine. We just needed to know if you could walk.”
The sky had clouded over, and the dark fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt was stiff and glued to his chest. He was dirty and scraped and butt-tired, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get up and walk around right now.
“Alright,” Technoblade said with a sigh. “I’m gonna assume we don’t need to duct-tape you back together. Stay here and uh, don’t let Wilbur pass out. I’ve got to make a call.” With that, he stood up and headed up closer to the road. He was limping slightly, holding his side. When had
Tommy got to his feet. It wasn’t quite as hard as he hoped it would be. A few feet away, Wilbur coughed awkwardly.
“Are you okay, Tommy?” He asked.
And just like that, Tommy’s emotions came crashing down around him. His anger at Technoblade disappeared like a blanket being thrown over a fire, snuffed out by the sympathy in Wilbur’s tone.
He’d fucked it up so badly. He’d really, really screwed this. And he wouldn’t be fucking forgiven, this was the big leagues, this was what he had wanted and he couldn’t fucking cut it.
He wanted to walk into the woods and never come back. He wanted to drive right into the sun, leaving a Tommy shaped hole in the sky. He wanted to go home. He wanted-
Wilbur was waiting for a response. Tommy’s face was hot, and his hands were trembling. He shoved them into the pockets of his jeans.
He wasn’t going to stand here and cry like a baby. And he wasn’t going to ask for Wilbur’s sympathy, not when it was his fault the man was injured.
“I’m good.” He smiled halfheartedly. Wilbur relaxed at the words, concern slipping from his gaze. His eyes were cloudy, unfocused.
Tommy had made the right call, then. God. Wilbur was to fucking good to him.
“How are you, Wilbur?” Tommy asked. He didn’t move, couldn’t move.
Wilbur gritted his teeth. He was covered in blood, most of it his own. The wound in his shoulder was wrapped in white gauze - Technoblade’s handiwork, presumably - but some of the dark, red liquid was still trailing down his arm.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not your fault, Tommy.”
It was so blunt that Tommy actually swayed where he was standing, the words throwing him off balance. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to apologize, but no words came out.
Technoblade chose that moment to walk into their little heart-to-heart. He stopped a few paces back from where they were sitting, and Tommy wondered what sort of readings he was picking up, Tommy’s face all red, Wilbur pale and dazed. A second later Wilbur chuckled under his breath, and just like that, the tension broke.
“Okay,” Technoblade drew the words out. “Well, glad to see you two made it.” Wilbur saluted, then looked like he regretted it. “Wilbur, I’m gonna change your bandage, then I’m fucking sleeping.”
Wilbur nodded, letting go of his injured arm. “You’re the boss.”
Tommy sank to the ground, willing the tears in his eyes to vanish, and wiped his face with his arm. He felt something smear—blood, dirt, or probably both.
It took only a while to patch Wilbur up. As they’re packing up discarded wrappings and dirty clothes, Tommy realized just how hungry he was—this was going to be a long night, he always got pissy when he was hungry.
Apparently satisfied with his work, Technoblade sat down with a huff. He pulled out his phone. It was a lot nicer than the one Tommy had received.
“That’s it?” Tommy asked, aghast. “You don’t have anything else to say? We’re stranded in the fucking woods and Wilbur could die and you’re just gonna sit there?”
Technoblade put down the phone with a sigh, leaning back against a tree. For a second Tommy thought he was about to go to sleep.
“Call went through. She’ll be here in an hour and a half. Wilbur, do ya think you’ll still be alive by then?”
Wilbur grimaced. “I’ll make it.”
“Well, Tommy, you tried.” Technoblade shifted, holding his side gently. His dark brown eyes pierced through Tommy, more alert than he had any right to be.
“You’re lucky you’ve only got a few scrapes. Some first days don’t go that well.”
“Techno, lighten up. We’re alive, aren’t we?” Wilbur said. He sounded like he was biting back pain, despite the playful tone in his voice.
Technoblade snorted, eyes drifting closed. So much for alert, Tommy thought. “Sure, Wilbur. But the dude’s still got some explaining to do. You don’t freeze like that unless there’s something going on. And if there’s something going on, we need to know about it.”
Tommy’s stomach did flip flops in his gut. He tried to laugh it out, head throbbing at the noise. “Don’t sell me short, I know what I’m doing.” It came out a little more defensive than he meant it.
Technoblade opened one eye just to stare pointedly at Tommy. His gaze drifted from Tommy to Wilbur’s bandaged shoulder.
Well. Tommy found his laments at his shortcomings taken over by his growing annoyance at Technoblade. His stomach growled, and he raised his voice to drown it out.
“It was under control until we got fucking shot at! I’m good at going under the radar, not through gunfire!”
Technoblade sighed. He didn’t seem very interested in having that conversation. “Take a lesson from Niki, then.”
“Niki?”
“Oh great!” Wilbur peaked up at the name. “I love Niki!”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, Wilbur,” Technoblade closed his eyes.
Tommy scowled at the clouds drifting lazily across the sky until his eyes burned. He fell into a light, restless sleep.
“Okay, let’s go.” It was a tad darker out, the sun getting low in the sky. In the distance, the clouds were turning dark grey and blues.
“What?” Tommy asked.
“I said let’s go.” Technoblade was holding a backpack on his shoulder. It wasn’t Wilbur’s backpack from earlier, being a different color and slightly larger. It looked heavy though, and Tommy thought he had a pretty good idea of what was inside. They were still criminals, damn the screwed up mission.
“We’re going? Where? And how, Wilbur’s shoulder is all…” He trailed off. From behind Technoblade, Wilbur raised an eyebrow. He was tying his tennis shoes with one hand.
Alright then.
Tommy’s headache was mostly gone. He got to his feet and the stars behind his eyes only spun slightly. Alright.
The car had given them a nice clear path up out of the undergrowth. The bushes at the very edge had sprung back into place, and when they clawed their way out it looked like nothing at all had happened.
Tommy gut told him that those bushes might be the only reason they hadn’t been hunted down after spinning off the freeway. A memory flickered in his mind of headlights appearing behind them. What the hell was that? Had it really just happened that afternoon?
The road was quiet now. He had managed to drive them a reasonable distance away from the city. As they stood on the side of the road, Tommy counted the few cars zipping by. It wasn’t more than six.
Technoblade herded him and Wilbur across the road once it emptied for a long minute. The shoulder was rough and gravelly, and Tommy’s right shoe was torn at the toe. They walked in the direction they had been driving, and Tommy counted the pebbles he felt stick under his foot.
They’d hiked about a mile up the road to a rest stop. There had been more than a few strange looks when the three of them showed up, bloodied and bruised with leaves in their hair.
Tommy had shrunk into himself. Technoblade was right, he had failed them, and because he couldn’t cut the drive they’d broken the number one rule. He was pretty sure they looked like they’d just killed someone, then tried to hide the body in the woods.
Technoblade headed into the bathroom, followed by Wilbur. Tommy lurked under some trees, feeling sorry for himself. He wasn’t hurt badly. There were a few cuts on his face and arms, most likely from broken glass, that stung in the cool air of late evening. He wasn’t bleeding, as far as he could tell.
“Hey Tommy,” Wilbur said. He was standing triumphantly in front of the vending machines, holding a pile of candy in his good arm. “M&M’s?”
Tommy stared ahead as he walked over. Coming out of the restroom was a little boy holding a toy car, driving it through some imaginary racetrack in the air. He paused to look at them, the car teetering to a stop.
Tommy almost smiled before he tasted blood in his mouth—God, that must be a surefire way to traumatize a youth. The kid broke eye contact and exploded his car in the air, providing all the sound effects and hand gestures to show how big of a fuck up it was.
Tommy’s stomach clenched. The little boy ran off to his dad, holding the car out in the air next to him.
Wilbur handed him the packet of M&M’s - family sized. The chocolate helped. Tommy melted them in his mouth and they sat on the grass behind the rest rooms. Technoblade stayed quiet, getting up every so often to watch the road.
Eventually, he disappeared behind the restroom. Tommy sighed and laid back in the grass. There was an empty sandwich bag by his head, probably left there by some family. Had they had a normal day? Maybe they had a kid Tommy’s age. Maybe that kid was learning to drive for the first time. God, what a life.
Tommy didn’t think like this often, about what it would have been like to be normal. The late evening air and the lingering ache in his skull made it all seem worse.
Wilbur got up from the grass. He was back a few moments later holding several bottles of water.
Tommy meant to say thank you. Instead, he said: “Are you feeling better?”
“Depends on your definition of better, I think.”
Wilbur must have seen the desolate look on Tommy’s face. “It’ll be okay, just might take a while. That sounds bad, I know, but Jesus, Tommy. You can’t blame yourself for this kind of thing.”
Tommy unscrewed the cap of a water bottle slowly, slowly. “But if I had done better, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
“Don’t think like that.” Wilbur shook his head. “You’ll get bogged up in your own shit really quickly, and believe me, you’re better off without it.”
What was there to say to that? If Wilbur didn’t blame him, maybe he would vouch for Tommy. Maybe he would still let Tommy stay in his apartment if he got kicked out of the Emerald Ring.
It was hard to tell how long they laid in the grass for. People came and went. For the most part they were ignored, save for one curious golden retriever who wandered over and licked chocolate off Tommy’s fingers. He went to the restrooms after that, and let cool water run down his face until his nose was dripping.
Wilbur was eating candy in the grass when he returned. The pink-haired man sitting next to him caught Tommy off guard until he remembered Technoblade’s untimely hair reveal. Whatever conversation the two were having stopped as Tommy approached. He gave them a halfhearted smile and leaned back on his elbows in the grass. It was quiet.
“Let’s go,” Technoblade said eventually. Wilbur tossed a sour patch kid at him. Technoblade caught it in one hand and threw it back into Wilbur’s mouth. “Niki’s here.”
Niki turned out to be a short, pink haired woman driving a shiny silver car. She was leaning against the hood as they approached it. Tommy, still walking with his head down, looked up to see her smiling warmly at him. Her gaze turned more cold when she looked at Wilbur, but it passed so quickly that Tommy thought he might have imagined it.
“So, I’m the baby sitter for the train wrecks again,” She was teasing them, her tone light and her accent European. Still, Tommy wilted slightly under the words.
“Hey, it’s okay! Tommy, right?” Her eyes met his, and she gave him an encouraging smile. “You only crashed one car. On Techno’s first day he crashed three.”
Technoblade paused halfway into the passenger's seat. “Heh? You should definitely not know that.”
Niki smiled and waved at him through the window. “That must take a special kind of talent,” she whispered to Tommy.
His stress lightened slightly, and he smiled back. “Is there a pink-hair mandate that I missed? I know I definitely didn’t sign on for that. Please tell me it wasn’t in the fine print.”
“No, you should be all good. ” She tilted her head to the back of the car. “Now, let’s go before Wilbur gets chocolate in my backseat.”
“Nice to see you too, Niki.” Wilbur saluted from the backseat.
Tommy climbed in, giving Wilbur his biggest grin. “She likes me better.”
Wilbur’s face soured too, just for a microsecond. Tommy thought he might have hit a nerve.
The engine revved. Niki took them smoothly onto the freeway, the silver car cutting easily through the light evening traffic. The sun was just starting to go down, painting the sky orange and purple behind them.
“She’ll take your job if you’re not careful Tommy,” Wilbur said from next to him. Tommy frowned, watching the cars fall behind them. Not a single person glanced in their direction.
Niki let out a laugh that was a little sinister. “Oh, I have saved your ass so many times, Wilbur Soot. I could take your job.”
“She could,” Technoblade added.
“Well, you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” Wilbur grumbled.
Tommy leaned his head against the window. The glass was cool on his forehead.
The stars were beginning to brighten when Techno’s voice cut through the sleepy atmosphere and silence of the car.
“Turn here. Then pull off.”
“Right here?”
“This is the exit that I said to take, yes.”
“This road is almost falling apart, Techno.”
Technoblade laughed, then said something too low for Tommy to hear. Niki glanced to the back seat, laughed softly, and took the exit ramp. They were coming back into the suburbs, and in the distance Tommy caught sight of the bright city lights. They pulled into a lot and Niki frowned.
“You’re not suggesting that I leave my car here?”
“Relax,” Technoblade said. His seatbelt clicked and he stretched out, neck popping. “We’re swapping with Joe. The envoy will follow us for thirty blocks, then we’re practically there.”
“So you really did mean the nest.” Tommy didn’t know what they were talking about. It was very unprofessional to fall asleep during a job. Or was the job over now? He didn’t know. Somebody’s door was open, and warm, humid air was seeping into the car. His eyes were heavy.
“Tommy?” He was being shaken awake. When was he allowed to actually fucking sleep?
“Tommy.” Niki was leaning down, looking very pointedly at him. Her pink hair fell in front of her eyes. “Can you wake up Wilbur?”
Tommy’s mouth tasted like old socks. He swallowed and nodded, and Niki nodded back before heading over to where Technoblade was standing talking to a short man a few spaces over.
Wilbur was leaning into the seat, breathing softly. Tommy carefully reached over his injured shoulder and poked him in the cheek. “Wilbur.”
Wilbur snored, once. Tommy rolled his eyes, and poked him again. “Wilbur!”
“Tommy?” Wilbur said, his voice shot and his eyes puffy. A flashlight had turned on outside, and Tommy saw a wet line of blood rolling down his shoulder. God, they were a mess.
“Wake up sleepyhead,” Tommy whispered. “We’re getting out.”
Footsteps sounded up to the car, crunching gravel. Tommy turned from Wilbur’s raised eyebrow to see Technoblade, outlined by the light, standing in front of the open car door. He looked utterly unfazed by the sight of them.
“C’mon,” he said. “We’ve gotta move.”
Tommy cleared his throat. Their new car was a dark grey minivan, headlights turning on as he took it in. Niki slid into the passenger's seat. Why wasn’t she driving?
Technoblade followed his gaze. From his pants pocket, he pulled a car key, spinning it around his finger. A small, golden key chain hung from the ring: A pair of wings.
Wilbur had walked over to behind Technoblade, smiling sheepishly. He put a hand on Technoblade’s shoulder, and the pink haired man extended his free hand out towards Tommy.
Tommy reached forward, clasping his hand firmly. He half expected a handshake and to hear that the gang was done with him, but instead—
Technoblade pulled Tommy up, so that they were eye level. He didn’t smile, but light danced in his eyes.
“You didn’t do too bad, kid. After all, not everyone gets to meet the Angel in his own home.”
Tommy stared, speechless. He was slightly aware that his mouth was probably hanging open.
Wilbur chuckled. “You’ll be okay, Tommy.”
The stars winked at him from above.
Notes:
TBH I think i got like, miniature writers block with this chapter because for the life of me i just couldn’t finish it. :/ i would like to keep a consistent upload schedule though, hopefully at least once a week. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long and then I'll try to stick to updating on whatever day of the week that ends up being.
Thanks for reading!!
Lilhappy on Chapter 1 Fri 03 Sep 2021 09:05PM UTC
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emeraldeon on Chapter 1 Fri 03 Sep 2021 11:15PM UTC
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anxielin on Chapter 1 Sat 04 Sep 2021 09:49AM UTC
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emeraldeon on Chapter 1 Sat 04 Sep 2021 09:05PM UTC
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LillKat on Chapter 2 Wed 22 Sep 2021 03:20PM UTC
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krakn (Guest) on Chapter 2 Tue 26 Oct 2021 12:50PM UTC
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emeraldeon on Chapter 2 Sun 31 Oct 2021 02:03AM UTC
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