Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy vividly remembered the day that he got his powers. It happened in such a simple way for such a complex power, he laughed nearly every time he thought back on it.

The day wasn't supposed to be anything special. Techno and his Dad had work, but Wilbur was free, and promised to take him to the park. It was just supposed to be normal.

For a while, it was. Wilbur sat on one of the benches nearby, watching Tommy run too and from trees, occasionally saying hi to other children or chasing squirrels. He laughed a couple of times when Tommy hit a tree, or fell to the ground, and Tommy always pouted at him, sticking out his tongue at his older brother.

It happened during one of the times he was chasing a squirrel. He imagined himself as a dog, one that he had seen a few moments before, chasing after the squirrel, barking as it ran in terror. At first, it was just childish play, imagination going a leg further, but then his body began to...shift. Change.

Slowly, he went from running on two legs to four. Then a glowing white light engulfed his body. The entire world seemed silent at that moment, waiting to see the boy fully transform. It was just him running, no longer focusing on the squirrel, but rather, distracted by the sudden light that engulfed his vision instead.

It was painful, more so than when he usually used his power. Then, he felt like he was being cursed for having a power that strong, but now, he assumed that it was because it was the first time he shifted, and his body wasn't expecting to change, morphing into a form that it never should have taken. 

His bones reconstructed themselves, elongating and shrinking as he change. Clothes melded into his skin, covered by a dark gray fur, the same as the dog Tommy had just seen a few minutes before. Two furry ears poked out of his head, and his entire skull changed form, elongating into a snout, with sharp teeth peeking out from his lips. Behind him, a tail wagged, before curling around his back left leg as he processed what happened.

Tommy remembered Wilbur coming up to him, concern coating his every movement, practically covering his face, asking if Tommy was okay. The boy, even that young and naive, could see the plain panic on the older's face, and rather than letting his own take over, he twisted his head up, sky-blue eyes meeting chocolate brown ones, and he let out a yip.

So, yes, he remembered when he got his powers. He remembered the rush of air through his fur, and the excitement of his family when they found out. The exhilaration was still fresh through his veins at that time, and he had soon tried to shift into any animal he could, only to find himself unable to by will.

Soon enough, he had started training, only 6, almost seven at the time. It was tiring, and he still barely has any control of his powers, but he was getting better. At one point, he had asked why he needed to, only for Techno to remind him how dangerous his powers were. Of the fact that he could easily kill if he wanted to.

Tommy stopped complaining after that.

Things had gone well for a long time. He could even control his powers, granted for only a few minutes, but he could nonetheless. Which begged the question of how he got into this situation.

Tommy had just been waiting outside the school, hanging on the corner away from the watchful eyes of the teachers and other students, waiting for someone from his family to come and pick him. Tubbo and Ranboo had already been picked up by Puffy, so Tommy was stuck waiting by himself, not that he minded. It was...easier to stay out of the way of people staring at him when he was alone.

Still, he wasn't expecting it when it happened. Tommy was oblivious, not yet trained to be as aware of his surroundings, when a hand reached around his mouth, cupping it. The 8-year-old had startled, trying to turn around to scramble out of whoever had grabbed him's hold, only for something hard and metal to hit him on the side of his head. Everything went black, and his body fell limp.

When he awoke, it was to the bump of a truck going down the road. Bandages wrapped around his head, covering one of his eyes, and he winced at the throbbing in his head. Still, looking around was hard, almost no lights in the wherever they were. Carefully, he pushed himself up, only to let out a startled yelp when someone placed a hand on his wrist. Quickly, he scrambled out of their grip, stumbling back to the corner, before he looked up fearfully.

In front of him was a boy, with two antennae sticking out of his blond hair, both glowing a dim purple. Two bright purple eyes stared at him curiously, and his hand remained stuck out carefully, not moving an inch from where it had been.

Still curled into a ball, Tommy spoke quietly, so different from your usual personality, "who...who are you? Where...where are we?"

The boy tilted his head, "I'm...Purpled. Based on what they've been thinking, we've just been kidnapped."

"Thinking?" Tommy blinked. He was fairly sure that you couldn't read people's minds.

"Mhm," he hummed falling backwards into a sitting position, "my power is telepathy."

Oh. That made sense, Tommy supposed, though it didn't explain the boy's antennae, "bu-but you...ant..anten-n-nae?"

"Antennae," he corrected quietly, "and, technically, we say my power is making me an alien. The telepathy just comes along with that."

"Makes sense," Tommy hummed, turning away, "do...do you know what they're going to do with us?"

Purpled shook his head, "no. I think...I think we'll find out when we get...where they're taking us. But based on what they've thought..."

The boy trailed off, shaking his head, "we're gonna need to stick together. Do...do you wanna be friends? Try and make it through this?"

"I..." he trailed off. Tommy didn't know Purpled well, he knew hardly anything about it. He wished desperately that Tubbo or Ranboo had been here with him, but shook his head. He didn't want either of them to go through this. Besides, Purpled was probably right, "sure. My name is Tommy, and my power is shapeshifting."

Quickly, he extended his head, making eye contact with Purpled as the boy stepped over. His hand was grasped by the other boy's squeezed quickly, before Purpled spoke again, his antennae illuminating both of their faces in the dark truck, "hello Tommy. We're going to be good friends, and we're going to escape this. Together."

Chapter Text

Tommy and Purpled had stayed together for the entirety of the journey. They had pulled close, as the air got cold and suffocating after a while. The truck jolted as they were taken away to...somewhere. Even Purpled had no clue where, other than the directions that he could hear in their thoughts.

After a while of just staying together, huddled with hands curling around the other body, desperate for warmth and comfort of any type, Tommy got antsy. He was used to talking, being loud and extravagant. He was used to bustling surroundings, and laughter and shrieks, not.... not the silence of a truck that hauled two kids away from their home.

Carefully, he pried his face away from where he had rested it in Purpled's neck. He blinked the tiredness he was feeling away, before beginning to whisper to the other boy, "should...should we get to know each other?"

"I..." Purpled was silent for a moment, before scooching away from Tommy, unclasping their hands, "I guess. What...what do you want to know?"

Tommy stared at Purpled's dark form, huddled awkwardly in front of him, before reaching out a hand to the hoodie, tugging the other kid closer. He ignored the squeak or terror, pushing Purpled to sit next to him. He was a little more smushed now, with Purpled leaning into him, Tommy's body being awkwardly shoved into the corner, but he didn't mind, instead leaning his head on Purpled shoulder and closing his eyes.

"My name is Tommy," he murmured tiredly, wringing his hands in his lap, "I'm eight, and my power is shapeshifting. Wilby says I'm ado-adora...able? sometimes, but 'm not. 'M a Big Man."

Purpled was quiet for a moment, before, "Wilby?"

"Mhm," Tommy hummed in conformation, "he's my big bro...just like Techie and Dad."

"O...oh," Purpled was quiet for even longer this time, and at some point, one of his hands found its way into Tommy's hair, tugging out knots that came from it not being washed for a few days out of spite, "I...I have a brother named Punz. He....he's nice. Leaves home a lot, but...but nice."

Tommy opened his eyes, blinking up at Purpled. The furrowed eyebrows and voice laced with bitterness gave away the emotions that he was feeling, but Tommy just intertwined their hands, humming for a moment to try and soothe him. Quietly, after a moment, he spoke, "don't...don't talk 'bout your bro...talk...talk 'bout you."

"I..." Purpled seemed startled at his words, and Tommy frowned. Had no one ever truly wanted to know Purpled before? "o...okay..."

He took a deep breath in, before speaking in a slightly louder voice than before, "I'm Purpled and...and my power is Telepathy. I can...I can hear people's thoughts and sometimes talk to them in...in their heads too. I'm...I'm nine. I don't....don't really know how this friend thing works...sorry."

Tommy blinked in confusion, "you don't know how to be friends with someone?"

Purpled wilted, "yeah, people...people get scared off by the whole 'alien thing' usually. Say...say it makes me look like a freak..."

"That's dumb," Tommy spoke bluntly, lifting the hand that wasn't intertwined with Purpled's to flick the older on the forehead, "I think it makes you awesome."

It was quiet again, and when Tommy looked at Purpled, the other's eyes were filled with such awe it made rage fill the eight-year-old's mind. He was gonna show Purpled he was awesome!

Purpled swallowed, "re...really?"

"Mhm!" Tommy nodded, "you look like a...a...."

He trailed off. What did Wilby call it? Oh, right! "a bad bitch!"

Purpled blinked, "a what?"

"A bad bitch!" Tommy repeated cheerfully, "Wilby says that means a cool person, though Dad doesn't like when I use those words..."

Trying to hide a snicker, Purpled looked at him, "what...what other words did your brother tell you?"

Tommy could nearly feel the sinister grin on his face as he looked Purpled in the eyes. God, he really liked Purpled, it felt as though they'd been friends as long as he had been friends with Tubs and Ranboo!

"Well, the first one he taught me was fuck."

Chapter Text

The rest of...however long they spent in the truck was spent talking in hushed whispers, occasionally using their powers to show the other. At some point, Tommy had changed into a mouse to show off his abilities, straining to keep the form with how tired he was, but wanting to show Purpled nonetheless.

It was...nice. A little strange, with a tension hovering in the air that came from them being unsure of what was going to happen, but nice. Tommy supposed that was because he and Purpled got along so well. If he acted worse, then this probably wouldn't have been pleasant at all, especially with the whole kidnapping thing.

Still, when the truck had stopped, Tommy and Purpled had been deep in conversation, the latter not even noticing the thoughts of the truck driver. But the immediate stop made them freeze, their conversation dying out almost instantly. Their eyes stayed at the back door of the truck, not even moving when the few lights that were there went out. Footsteps went around the truck, only to stop just outside the door. Hesitantly, Tommy moved over to it, pressing up his ear to the side to listen to what they were saying.

"-we got to young ones for ya, younger than ten. Weird alien freak and a shapeshifter. Give us the money, an we'll be outa your ha-" whoever was speaking didn't get to finish, a loud bang echoing through the area. He flinched back, sending a look to Purpled, before pressing his ear up against the door again.

There was a grunt, and a loud thump, before someone started speaking, "you wanna end up like you friend?" silence. Tommy assumed that they shook their head, "then fucking scram."

Someone let out a whimper, before there was the sound of footsteps running away from the truck. The second voice sighed, before speaking again, "open the truck. See what they got."

Quickly, he scrambled back, gripping onto Purpled tightly. Tommy was well aware he was shaking, but he couldn't help it.

When the truck door opened, he let out a whimper, gripping onto Purpled's shirt even tighter. He was well aware of the tears streaming down his face, dripping onto Purpled's hoodie, the older boy tightening his grip on Tommy as well.

Light poured into the cramped space, the stars illuminating every part of their body, as well as the men standing outside of the truck.

One of them clicked his tongue, "get them away from each other. We have work to do, and them...clinging to each other is going to make it harder."

Obediently, the men started moving forward, and Tommy's eyes widened. He didn't want to leave Purpled! He didn't wanna be with the scary men!

Two strong arms pried him away from Purpled, and Tommy cried out, squirming around in his hold, trying to reach his friend. Purpled seemed to be doing something similar, but stopped after a few moments.

"No!" Tommy sobbed, trying to reached a hand out, only for it to fall limply around the man's arms, "Purpled!"

The man holding him back grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up and make eyes contact through watered eyes. After a moment, he shoved Tommy onto the ground, pressing a foot into his chest, and causing Tommy to cry out in pain.

He groaned, pressing hard on Tommy's chest, the young boy gasping as he tried to take in air, "shut the hell up kid. You're not getting away."

Tommy whimpered. He had to get away! He had to...he had to find Purpled!

In a last ditch attempt to get away, he stopped struggling, instead focusing on his power, pushing himself into the form of a wolf. Techno said it could be useful to know, and Tommy was inclined to agree, especially now. It felt so similar to that firs time of shifted, though much less painful; his mouth elongating into a muzzle, teeth poking out from behind his lips. Coarse gray fur grew on his body, his school uniform melding into his skin as the form of a wolf took over, tail splayed out across the floor.

Uncaring of if he hit or not, Tommy bit upwards, hoping to at the very least scare the guy away, but he just pressed down harder. A hand reached down and gripped the fur on his neck, before pulling him off the ground, his body hanging limply mid air.

In a frenzy of panic, he bit, gripping onto something he assumed was the guy's hand or arm, especially judging by the grunt of pain he let out. He was dropped to the ground, and began to scamper away, only to get knocked to the floor again, this time with the shoe against his neck, pressing down into the ground and making it nearly impossible to breath.

"You little brat," the guy hissed, before shifting slightly, "someone get me a fucking muzzle! The bitch thought it was a good idea to bite me."

After a little bit, the shoe pressing further into Tommy's neck whenever he tried to breath, some metal clattered against the ground near them, and the man leaned down to pick it up. He let out a menacing laugh, and Tommy whimpered, curling in on himself.

The shoe moved away again, and hand lifting his head up instead. Something cold an metal was wrapped around his snout, and when Tommy tried to open his mouth to snap at it, it pressed firmly in the other direction. Leather straps were tied around his head, pushed further and further until Tommy could feel the object digging into his skin, a little blood seeping out from the edges. The eight-year-old whimpered, and squinted open his eyes, only to be met with the man staring right at him, a terrifying gleam in them.

"That," he hissed, standing up, his right leg raised above his head, "is a warning. be obedient, and we won't have to do that."

Then the leg went down, and everything went black.

-------------

When he woke up again, Tommy was in human form. The muzzle was still wrapped around his mouth, blood leaking out from the edges, and a collar was around his neck, pressing tightly into his throat. Straps held him down to a table, searing heat emanating from one side of the room. For a moment, he tried to shift, but found himself unable to, and he blinked in confusion.

"It's interesting isn't it," a voice spoke out, startling him, though it wasn't like he could move, "the power restraining cuffs that were created?"

Tommy risked a glance down to his wrist, seeing the blinking red cuff that showed he no longer had his power. When he looked back up, there was a figure in front of him, leaning down until they were only a few inches away from each other.

He traced a hand over the cuff, before looking Tommy in his tear-filled eyes, "such a shame we had to use them on you."

After a moment, he leaned back, "no matter. In due time, you will learn that you belong to us. You'll do what we want, and will no longer have such...outbursts."

To the side, the heat grew larger, and try as he might to twist his head to see what was over there, he couldn't see anything, the collar preventing him from moving his head.

 Something metal clicked, banging against something else, but the man continued speaking, "but for now, we'll have to show you in a different way."

After a few seconds, he walked over, a burning red rod of metal in his hands. He grinned at Tommy's obvious fear, pushing the rod closer.

"A much more physical way."

With that, the rod was pushed onto his skin, searing an emblem onto his cheek, just to the side of the muzzle. Tears rolled down his face, and he let out a gargled sort of screech, trying to breath as blood from the muzzle poured into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but it kept coming, and the heat was unbearable, his hand shaking violently as he attempted to get out of his restraints, to fight back, but to no avail. After a a little bit, it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, it was all the same, the heat left, and Tommy was left with a code across his cheek. S-264.

The last thing he remembered was a hand tracing down his cheek where the burn was, before all that he could see was darkness, the pain sending him into unconsciousness once again.

Chapter Text

The next time Tommy awoke, it was slow. Rather than waking up to his head hitting metal, or to a burning hot heat, there was nothing. No sounds, no rough hits, just his body stirring after a while. Tommy was tired, he admitted, blinking awake slowly, not vigilante at all despite the recent events, limbs sagging to the floor as he groaned. His head was throbbing, and pain laced his limbs and cheek. The muzzle seemed to have been removed, though he could still feel the phantom pain from it, a little bit of dried blood still caked around his mouth.

Yet, as much as he would like to wallow on the floor in pain, he couldn't. Tommy knew that, knew that staying asleep for too long in this unfamiliar environment was a bad idea. So, mindful of the places he felt the most pain, Tommy pushed himself up, glancing around the room he was in as he did so.

It was almost entirely metal, bar the floor, which was a much more cushioned material. Still, he was uncomfortable on it, not quite sinking into it, but not on solid ground either. It was scratchy and uncomfortable, making him shiver when a hand was rubbed over it. On the far side, away from him, there was a door, along with a panel that he couldn't see through.

As soon as he saw the door, Tommy tried to move towards it, only to get tugged backwards about halfway through the room, falling face first onto the floor. Annoyed, he turned his head back a little, trying to glimpse what had held him back.

Connected to each of his wrist were two chains, not the thickest, but definitely enough to keep the eight-year-old down. Around his neck, the collar from before was still there, and seemed to be clamped even tighter. Tommy was struggling to breath around it, and his fingers raised up to it, trying to unclasp it from around his neck, only for him to freeze.

As soon as his fingers pressed against the metal of it, he could feel the metal on the inside heat up, searing into his neck. It burned, and Tommy let out a choked cry, feeling it get warmer and warmer, sizzling his neck like the eggs that he had seen his Dad make only a few days ago. Tears streamed down his face, and Tommy moved back, unclasping his fingers around the collar to instead grip his hair, tugging at it to focus on something other than the heat that emanated from the collar, burning and imprinting into his neck.

Tommy collapsed to the floor as the heat seemed to get even worse, and he let out a strangle stream, garbled words coming out of his mouth as he attempted to beg for mercy from whoever was doing this.

"Ple-Please! Stop, ple-st...stop! It hu-hurts, help, pl-please," he cried, rocking back and forth on the floor, more tears beginning to pour out.

Eventually, the heat lessened, before stopping all together. Tommy wasn't sure how long it took, but his neck was raw after being burned, and it felt like his lungs and throat were scratched to oblivion with how much he cried and screamed and begged. Blood dribbled down his neck, staining the dirt white clothes he had on.

Tommy wasn't sure how long had passed since he first woke up, but he had ended up in the corner, curled up as he tried to find some form of comfort in himself. It was...lonely, with no one beside him in the room, no sounds echoing in the chamber besides what he produced. Tommy didn't even realize how much he had gotten attached to Purpled until they were separated, Tommy stuck without any human contact, or, at least, any positive human contact.

When he finally heard footsteps outside of his room, Tommy's head shot up, a bit of hope flaring through his chest, though it was stamped down quite quickly.

A voice echoed throughout the room, cold and monotone, "Subject S-264, Experiment 01."

"Wha-what?" Tommy murmured, looking around the room with fear, tears still filling his eyes.

"Experiment 01 will be conducted to see how S-264 is able to react to surroundings in its alternate forms. We will start off with the first trial; water."

As soon as the man finished speaking, the clasp around his wrist made a beeping noise, the red light changing to a green. Tommy wilted as he felt his power again, just underneath his skin, relief filling him. The chains clicked from around his wrists and ankles, retracted into the wall instead, before the hatch they were attached to closed, leaving him by himself in the room.

That relief didn't last for long, as not even a few seconds later, water began filling the room, pouring down from hatches in the ceiling that he didn't notice before. Tommy gasped, wincing as his clothes were drenched, before moving as close to the center as he could, looking around wildly as he tried to see a way out. There was nothing, besides the grates where the water was coming out of, but those were too small for him to get through, and likely too sturdy for him to break.

Still, water began filling up the room more and more, nearly up to his knees at this point, and Tommy wilted. As much as he didn't want to, mostly because that seemed to be what the person doing this wanted, he was going to have to shift if he wanted to survive. Or, at least, not be in a lot of pain.

He stilled, focusing in on his power. He'd need something that could breath underwater, maybe a fish, but he squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of not being able to defend himself if need be. Tommy considered his thoughts for a moment, before nodding at what he thought of. A shark seemed like a good choice.

Slowly, the power filled his veins, and the familiar bright light engulfed his body, his bones shifting and melding into one another, shrinking and elongating. Water covered his body and he fell closer to the floor, his fins twitching as he felt himself instinctively swim around a bit. Even with the water still rising, he no longer felt the panic he had before, instead moving silently around the room, a curious child, but a predator nonetheless. The sent of blood filled his sensitive nose, and he twitched, moving down to the corner he had sat in a moment before, nudging the dried blood on the ground with disgust. He twisted his neck, only for a spike of pain to go through it, and he twisted around, catching sight of the collar that was still around his neck. Strange; it seemed as though it was made to stay with him no matter what form he turned into.

Tommy wasn't sure how long he had spent as a shark- though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes -lazily swimming around the room, before the speakers from before activated, a little bit of static for a moment, before the voice came through.

"Water trial has been completed. Let the second trial commence; cold."

As he said that, the water began emptying the room, and once it got low enough that he could stand as a human, he shifted again, watching as the last of the water went down the drains, before they sealed up, leaving him in a room that was...getting progressively colder.

Tommy shivered, his body not used to the cold that was coming on, not even with the cold winters he would spend with his family from time to time. Nothing would compare to the biting cold of this room, nothing but a thin layer of clothes to protect him. At some point, the shivering became much more violent, and he finally gave in, frantically thought of an animal to turn into. His teeth chattered, and hands were shaking as he gripped onto himself, desperate for some form of warmth. It felt as though his blood was freezing under his skin, stopping in his veins, slowly killing him from the inside out.

"C-cold..." he murmured, not entirely thinking straight as he wracked his brain. Didn't Techie say that there was an animal he really liked that lived in the cold. What was it called...a...a pol-ler bear?

He supposed it was close enough, and focused on shifting, on attempting to change into the numerous pictures that his oldest brother had showed him when Tommy had asked what he was looking at. Four short stubby legs, pure white fur, a thick body, warm enough to survive the cold of the Arctic.

When his body was done shifting, Tommy slowly opened his eyes, glancing around the frigid room. it was still...slightly cold. Even with all of his fur Tommy could still feel it, but it felt...felt manageable now. Not so cold that it felt like it was burning Tommy's skin when he was in it.

A sudden tiredness dragged at him, and Tommy moved to the corner from before, curling into a ball and closing his eyes as he waited for the 'trial' to end. It was...strange, being a different creature, one so used to the cold, but something warm filled his heart when he realized that Techno ranting about his favorite animal had saved him from whatever would have happened if he didn't manage to shift into something that would help with the cold.

After what, to Tommy at least, was a much shorter amount of time, the speakers crackled to life again, "Cold trial has been completed. Let the final trial commence; heat."

Like a switch, the room went from freezing cold to burning hot, and Tommy quickly shifted into a human again, not eager for the overwhelming heat that would surely come from him being the bear. With the extra heat, the collar seemed to melt into his skin as he sat in the corner, and he desperately tried to think of something that could help him. Something that lived in the desert, something that lived in the...

Camel.

Quickly, he shifted, not even caring if he did what they wanted so quickly. He wanted to get out, wanted to be with his brothers and free Purpled too, and if complying was what that took, then he would do so, The collar was still there, and the heat was still rather uncomfortable, but he paid no attention to it, rather focusing on the fact that he could finally move around the heat filled room. It was sweltering, but Tommy managed, stretching a bit and roaming around, looking in every nook and cranny to try and find something to help him escape.

This was by far the shortest trial, as the speakers crackled a bit after he shifted, "Heat trial has been completed. Experiment 01 on S-264 will now be brought to a close."

For a moment, it was silent, before the voice began speaking again.

"You have completed today's experiment S-264. Do not become complacent. We will be back tomorrow with your next experiment. For now, enjoy your food S-264, it may be all you get for a while."

Once they were finished, a hatch opened at the bottom of the door, and a plate was slid through it, slipping onto the floor as the heat died down, before the hatch closed. Carefully, Tommy slipped back into human form, ignoring the headache that formed after using his powers so much, and the tiredness that attempted to pull him in, instead grabbing the...lesser quality food that he was given, taking small bites, but still wincing in disgust, his nose wrinkled the entire time.

When he was done, the plate was abandoned by the door, and he went and curled back into his corner, whimpering the entire time. he ignored the sound of the clasp beeping again, a red light bathing the corner, instead closing his eyes as tears streamed down his face.

At some point, the lights turned off, and the red light made it so the only thing he could see in the room was himself. Quietly, he hummed a tune Wilby had taught him, broken and not quite in the correct pitch, but reminding him of his brother nonetheless. it brought...a form of comfort to the frightening place, he supposed. But it did nothing to stop the loneliness that filled his chest and the tears that dripped down his face.

He could only pray his family found him.

Chapter Text

The facility was...it was hard to adjust to.

Tommy's real only way of telling time was through the night and day cycle the facility had set up. When it was dark, he assumed that outside, in the actual world, it was night. He hoped he wasn't wrong on that, it was really his only way. Though, he supposed it didn't matter much, just for his own sanity.

Based on what he had remembered, and what he had been told by the people doing the experiments, Tommy had been here about a month, and they had yet to let him out of the room. There was talk of maybe letting him have a little bit of time in an enclosed area with other subjects his age, but there was no guarantee. All Tommy could hope for was that he managed to be good enough they let him out, and he could see Purpled again, at least make sure the other boy was okay.

There were a lot of things he hated about the facility. He hated the blinding bright lights that stung his eyes when he woke up, yet he always feared the darkness of when they turned off, eyes frantically clinging to the glowing red light of the clasp so he could see something, even if it was his own hand. He hated the collar he was forced to wear, the burning sensation that shot through it whenever he did something to misbehave, or didn't go along with their experiments; how it had happened so much Tommy was half-certain that it had melded into his skin at this point, metal and flesh becoming one. He hated the disgusting food, and the monotone voices, and the cold metal, and the experiments. He especially hated the experiments, hated the hurt, the blood and pain and headaches that came with them.

But out of everything, he had to say, the thing he hated the most was the loneliness. If someone- he didn't care who; Purpled, Wilbur, Techno, Dad, Tubbo, Ranboo, it didn't matter -was here with him, comforting him as pain laced his body, soothing this with kind words and warm hands, Tommy could deal with it. He could deal with all of it; the torture, the food ,the lights, the collar, all of it. But no one was there, and he thought that hurt the most. Some nights, he wondered whether his family even knew he was missing; if they had given up searching for him long ago. Some nights, he could stop thinking about that.

Those were the bad nights.

So, yes, everything was bad here, and Tommy hated pretty much everything about it, but all in all, he thought he was managing it pretty well. Sure, he had nightmares sometimes of water filling the room, or people standing over him with a crazed smile and knife in their hand as they injured him, but Tommy thought that, all in all, he was doing pretty well for being kidnapped. He'd have to shove it in Wilbur's face when he got back.

He ignored the thought that that might never happen.

This day wasn't supposed to be any different. Tommy had formed a sort of...schedule as to what he should do while he waited for the day in the facility to be over. He would wake up, but attempt to pretend to be asleep as long as possible in the hopes of delaying the experiment of the day.

It never worked.

Once the experiment started, he had to try and follow every instruction given to him, to try and not give in fully, but not wanting the punishment that they would give him either. Most of the time he was able to. He didn't like to think about the times that he couldn't. He would eat the food they gave him, if he was given any, and then would huddle in one of the corners waiting until the lights went out.

It was...monotonous. There was a constant feeling of stress and anxiety that hovered over him, but it was...manageable. He could get through a day with it, so he supposed it was good enough.

Today, the experiment hadn't started yet, so he was waiting in the corner, curled up with his eyes closed, waiting for someone to step into the room, for the monotone voice to come out of the speakers and exclaim what they were doing. But that didn't happen.

When he heard footsteps, they were much...lighter, and much faster than that of the scientists who wanted to observe him usually were. Still, he tensed up, his head moving to the dark panel on the side where he knew that they would sit, watching him as he went through trial after trial.

Instead of the speaker crackling to life, the door opened, and a young girl ran in, snickering to herself as she slipped past the open door, which closed behind her. When they mad eye contact, Tommy shrunk back, but she just blinked in confusion, before perking up brightly.

She walked up to him, kneeling down to his level, "hi there! Are you new?"

"Wh-what?" he murmured, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't understand how anyone could be so bright and cheery in this dreadful place.

"I asked are you new here?" she tilted her head, "I don't think they had someone in this room before."

Tommy looked away uncomfortably, "I guess. I got here...a month ago I think?"

"Oh!" she smiled, reaching a hand out towards him, "I'm Drista! What's you name?"

Hesitantly, he took her hand, "I'm Tommy...how...how did you get through the door?"

Drista froze for a moment, before plopping down on the ground right next to him, "oh! they let me out sometimes to go visit my brother in return for me being good. Sometimes I manage to run away, and it takes a while for them to find me. I managed to slip a key from one of them a while ago, and they haven't found it yet."

"It's funny!" she giggled, leaning backwards, her head tilted towards the ceiling, before she looked at him.

His wrist was bent slightly strange from the experiment he had yesterday, where they had tried to, essentially, dissect him, and Tommy ended up fighting back. He got out of the experiment, with a sprained wrist for his trouble. It was painful, but, quite honestly, he'd rather have that than end up dissected on the floor.

She frowned at it, moving a hand towards it, before pausing, and looking up, "can I?"

Not completely understanding what she was going to do about it, he nodded, wanting to trust that she wouldn't hurt him. Carefully, she moved her hand towards him, gripping the wrist and bending it slightly into the correct position. he winced, hissing slightly at the movement, but said nothing, trying to push the pain away, glancing upward to see the determined expression on her face.

After a moment, she muttered something under her breath, before opening her eyes, and he was surprised to see the green eyes from before instead glowing a bright gold, pupils entirely gone. It looked as though she was in a trance, and he blinked blearily as he realized this must be what her powers were.

Slowly, he felt the wrist shift back into place, no longer throbbing in minor pain as more time went on. After some time, Tommy thought it was around thirty minutes, the pain stopped completely, and Drista closed her eyes, hands falling limply into her lap. A few moments later, she opened her eyes again, which were now the bright forest green again.

"Better?" she questioned, and Tommy nodded, holding up his wrist for a moment, before staring at her.

Clearing his throat, he spoke quietly, "how come...how come you don't have a power canceller?"

"They don't think I need one," she hummed, "since healing can't hurt them, they don't see the point."

He nodded, "that...that makes sense."

It was quiet again, before Tommy spoke again, "don't you have to go before they find you?"

She blinked, before abruptly shooting up, running towards the door, pausing for a moment with her hand against the frame, "sorry we can't talk more, I kind of forgot I was running from them! I'll come and visit you soon!"

"It's fine..." he hesitated. He wanted to ask Drista to go see Purpled, but...he didn't want to take advantage of the new friendship. Still... "do you think you can look for someone here for me?"

Drista blinked, before tilting her head, "depends, who?"

"His," he paused, taking a deep breath, "his name is Purpled. We got separated when we first got here, and...and I don't want him to be alone. Just tell him that I asked you to check up on him. He, uh, he had purple antennae things, blond hair, and purple eyes. His power is telepathy."

She nodded quickly, "got it! Talk to you later Tommy!"

He smiled as she left, though it soon faded as he crawled back to the corner, realizing that he hadn't even thought to ask whether she could free him, and he ended up curling back up into a ball with his head on his knees. After a while, the speakers crackled to life, and Tommy whipped his head up, dread pooling in his stomach as he stared ahead.

"Subject S-264, Experiment 36. Trials will be conducted to see how Subject S-264's body acts when transforming. We will test land, sea, and flying beasts."

There was the sound of his clasp deactivating, before the floor suddenly got very hot underneath of him.

"Let the experiment commence."

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't sure how long it had been.

He stopped counting a week or so after Drista's visit, but it had been so hard to keep track of time that Tommy just...gave up. Stopped caring. He knew it had been a while, and Drista hadn't come back to visit him, but Tommy wasn't particularly worried. She knew her way around, she had to in order to get in and out of the cells so easily, and traversing the facility wasn't easy. Tommy only knew that because he had been brought out of the room a few times for some of the experiments. Those days were always the worst, and he shivered at the thought of them.

Today though, he was fairly certain was going to be a good day. The people who watched over them felt that he had been good enough to get a little bit of outside time, and Tommy was, quite frankly, ecstatic to even get a glimpse of the outside. It was just a small courtyard in the facility, they had made clear to inform him of that, and any resistance would get him sent straight back to his room. But, it was better than the enclosed room he was forced into, suffocating and uncomfortable. There would be a few other subjects around his age out there too, and he had to pray that Purpled was one of them. He really wanted to talk to the other boy, the person who he had promised to be friends with.

Currently, he was being led through a maze of hallways, a blindfold over his eyes so he couldn't memorize any of the directions or hallways they were leading him down. There was a strong hand on his shoulder, firmly leading him where he needed to go, and he ignored the throbbing that went through his body with how tightly it was being gripped.

He knew the exact moment that stepped out into the courtyard. The sun bathed his face, and soft grass could be felt under his bare feet, the shoes having been destroyed a while ago. A couple of sticks and twigs scraped them, but he couldn't help but marvel at it, though he couldn't see anything. He wondered how long it had been since he had been with his family, since going outside and feeling this was a normal occurrence. He wondered how long it had been since people had laughed when he appeared, bright smile on their faces.

The thought made his heart ache. He missed his friends, he missed his family. He wondered if they missed him. If they did, why didn't they already come and save him?

Someone untied the blindfold, and he blinked, squinting his eyes as he tried to adjust to the sudden light. Vibrant greens and blues, white puffy clouds in the sky, he loved it. He had forgotten how much he loved the outside.

 Tommy was shoved forward by the person who escorted him, "go get on with it mutt. Unless you'd rather waste your time?"

Not wanting to anger them anymore, Tommy walked forward, his eyes scanning the few forms that were littered around the, admittedly, small courtyard. After a few people, he landed on one, with bright blond hair, sitting in a corner by himself. Two purple antennae stuck out of his head, and he was wearing the gray outfit that Tommy himself wore as a subject.

Carefully, he walked over, hovering a little away, before clearing his throat, watching Purpled's head shoot up, before the other boy's eyes widened in recognition.

He gaped at Tommy, before speaking in barely a whisper, "Tommy?"

"Hi," he grinned, shifting from one foot to another, "nice to see you Purpled."

Immediately, like Tommy's words had broken a spell, Purpled had shot forward,knocking Tommy to the ground in a bear hug. The younger laughed it off, but he hugged back just as tightly.

"You-" Purpled cut himself off with a strangled noise, before breathing in heavily, "you fucking idiot!"

Tommy, ignoring the tears streaming down his face, spoke, running a hand through Purpled's hair, "yeah, I know. But, in my defense, it seemed like a good idea at the moment."

"You attacked a guard!"

"-who was about to take me away from you. My brain wanted me to escape, so I tried my hardest to do so," Tommy shrugged, sitting up as Purpled moved himself from on top of the boy.

Quietly, Purpled led Tommy over to the corner he had been sitting at before, and they both sat down, one of Tommy's hands fiddling with the grass below them. For a few minutes, there was a comfortable silence between them, before Purpled whispered to him, head buried in Tommy's shoulder, "I missed you."

Tommy hummed, "I missed you too."

"I..." he hesitated, "do you know how long we've been here? I...I lost count of the months after the one and a half month mark."

Purpled very clearly hesitated, and Tommy could feel the pit of dread build up in his stomach at the response. If Purpled was hesitating to tell him the answer, than his friend definitely knew, and also definitely knew that Tommy wasn't going to like the answer. Fuck.

"...Five months," he whispered quietly, looking away, "we've been here five months."

Tommy felt himself go slightly numb, "It's May."

"Yeah."

He took a deep breath in, "I'm nine now. They failed to find us so I spent my ninth birthday in a fucking facility that experiments on me all the time."

"Yeah."

Tommy groaned, tilting his head up towards the sky as he lifted a hand to drag across his face, "for fucks sake."

it was quiet for a moment, before he felt Purpled intertwine their fingers, "it's alright. We'll make it through this hell hole. Together."

"Right," he murmured, resting his head on top of Purpled's, "together."

He ignored the thoughts that his family should have been able to find him in that amount of time.

Chapter Text

Subject S-264, Experiment 01:

01/14/24

The subject was tested on its ability to react to newfound environment changes. The first trial was water, then cold, then heat. Compared to the normal trials we do, this was a rather tame trial, and the subject was able to act accordingly, though with some mild resistance.

Trial Number One:

Subject S-264 was able to act accordingly. Mild resistance was put up, but it eventually succumbed to the trial goal, using its powers to shift into a great white shark. It swam around a bit, and seemed surprised by the collar still being there, but otherwise did not attempt anything. Footage was deemed unnecessary for this trial.

Trial Number Two:

Subject S-264 put up more resistance to the cold trial than any other trial of the day. it stayed in human form until we reached approximately -20.4° F (-29.1° C), finally shifting into the form of a polar bear, before proceeding into the corner of the room and waiting until the end of the trial. We hypothesize that it managed to hold out much longer because it used to live in the city of L'Manburg, a city notorious for its cold winters. Footage was deemed unnecessary for this trial.

Trial Number Three:

Subject S-264 shifted almost immediately into a camel, unable to take the heat at only 93.7° F (34.2° C), further proving our theory for Trial Two. It looked around the room, but we were forced to end the trial early due to difficulties with subject T-263. Footage was deemed unnecessary for this trial.

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Subject H-127, Experiment 208:

01/28/24

We tested Subject H-127 for its ability to heal broken bones. In the past, it has struggled to heal them, often passing out during the process and leaving us to deal with the subject. It seemed to push itself harder than usual, as though it is preparing for something, and managed to heal the patient's broken arm after one hour and 26 minutes. Be wary of it planning something again. Below are the files for the patients upper arm bones, before and after the healing. Footage was deemed unnecessary for this trial.

Attached Files
[Two files are attached; one with a very obvious break in the bones, splitting it fully apart, and the other with them fully put together. There it a slim line where the two bones were healed back together.]

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Incident Report: Subject T-263

01/14/24

Subject T-263 was tested on how far it could listen to another person's thoughts. It was brought outside of its containment unit for this experiment. Its current reach is 314.5 feet (95.9 meters), but this experiment dissolved into an incident.

Subject T-263 managed to single out the thoughts of S-264 and its current watchers, and Subject T-263 lashed out violently, proclaiming that we were hurting its friend. After 14 minutes of attempting to calm T-263 down, it was subdued and brought back to its containment unit, where it will remain until further notice. Below is an attached file of security footage during the incident.

Attached File
["-hurting him!" Purpled seems to be screaming violently, his antennae glowing a bright purple, with his eyes glowing the exact same color. Around him, two guards are knocked to the ground, which he seems to have attacked out in his blind rage. Scales, which previously covered his body in small patches, are now more visible, and have extended into minor claws. Blood drips down his right hand, and there is a massive cut across his side. Markings are more visible on his face, black and purple in coloring. On the bottom of the screen, there is a glowing green light, and the faint image of a power-canceling clasp is visible, likely ripped off of Purpled's arm. A slim tail whips around behind the boy.

"Subject T-263, we are doing no such thing. You must calm down, or face the consequences," a monotone voice calls out, seeming to come from a scientist out of view of the camera.

Purpled gawks, presumably in the direction of the scientist, before snarling, showcasing his slightly forked tongue, and two protruding fangs, "not hurting him my ass! Your fucking torturing hi-"

He was cut off by a gunshot, a bullet lodging itself into his calf muscle. For a moment, all was silent, before he let out a blood-curdling scream, falling to the ground in pain. Tears seem to be running down his face.

Someone walked above him, gun in hand, and the man leans down, hitting the pressure point on Purpled's neck, causing the boy to pass out almost immediately. A scientist comes into view of the camera, brushing his coat down, which there seems to be a couple of bloodstains on.

"Take him back to his containment unit. And get Subject H-127 to heal him while we're at it, we don't want that bullet wound to do any lasting damage to such a valuable unit," he stops, turning away and walking off.

The footage cuts off abruptly, getting one last glimpse of a guard grasping Purpled's legs, dragging him across the ground.]

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Incident Report: Subject S-264

02/17/24

In order to determine whether or not Subject S-264 has any physical differences, we attempted to do minor surgery on it, hoping to discover a way to replicate its unique abilities. Fearfully, Subject S-264 lashed out, knocking out three guards and giving itself a sprained wrist in the process. Until Subject S-264 is more complacent, we will delay all medical experiments. Our next attempt will be 07/17/24. Footage for this incident is attached below.

Attached File
[Tommy is curled up fearfully in the corner of his containment unit, blood covering nearly his entire body as he shakes violently, eyes wide. A red light flashes on his wrist, the clasp still activated. The wrist without the clasp is bent odd, sprained.

From the doorway, a guard approaches, holding his hands out in a placating manner, "Subject S-264, calm down."

Curling further into himself, Tommy hisses, baring his teeth at the guard, who sighs.

"Stubborn brat," he mutters, before moving again, this time towards the three guards all knocked out by the door, "will you let me take them out of your room if I don't come close to you?"

Tommy tilts his head, before nodding slightly, eyes never leaving the guard's form.

Carefully, the guard hauls away the three bodies, one at a time, his hands never leaving Tommy's view. Once all three are out of the room, the guard attempts to step back into the room, only for Tommy to hiss at him. The guard immediately leaves.

The footage cuts off.]

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Educational Update:

05/19/24

For all subjects of ages 18 and below; we have begun having minor classes from 5:15 am-2:05 pm on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. They are receiving classes on math, reading, history, medical knowledge, physical education, science, and general education to prepare them for missions once they pass 18. We are educating them at a faster rate than schools.

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Subject Request Granted: Subject S-264

06/07/24

Subject requested a deck of cards for his containment cell. The request was granted. Subject S-264 seems to be preforming and practicing card tricks with them in order to pass the time spent in the cell.

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Incident Report: Subject S-264

08/27/24

In accordance to not complying with the experiment attempt on 07/17/24, Subject S-264 was forced to suppress its power until 08/27/24. It was taken out to the courtyard by itself, with several guards surrounding it. When the cuff was deactivated to see what it would do, Subject S-264 transformed almost immediately into a wolf, its pupils becoming slits. It seemed to fall heavily into the instincts of a wolf, almost immediately attacking the guards; three killed and five with heavy injuries. Subject S-264 then went on a rampage around the facility, killing four more guards, and injuring thirteen more who attempted to stop it. The rampage was ended when Subject T-263 used its telepathy to bring the humanity back into Subject S-264. It is theorized that Subject S-264 reacted in this way because it had not let out its powers in over a month. From now on, Subject S-264 will be forced to use its power at least once per week to prevent an incident like this from repeating. Below, two files are attached, one of the initial rampage, and the other of Subject T-263 calming Subject S-264 down.

Attached Files
[A wolf, most likely Tommy, is covering a guard with his body, two more are laying limply against the ground, but both seem to still be breathing. Surrounding Tommy are five armed guards, all pointing their weapons at him. Blood soaks Tommy's fur, tainting the gray a dark red.

With a single swipe of his claw, the guard's throat is sliced open, blood pouring out of it in a beautiful fountain of red. Tommy's claws come back red, and he quickly sprints to the nearest guard, dodging the bullet that was shot, before biting the man's leg, using his claws to tear shreds down his legs. Blood pours onto the floor as the man collapses, screaming, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A bullet fires and hits Tommy's tail, and he whips around to face the other four guards. When he meets the eyes of the guy that shot him, Tommy whips forward, teeth bared.

He leaps up three feet from the guy, knocking him to the floor, before reaching up and biting into his neck. Even when the man screamed in pain, Tommy didn't stop reaching up and slashing across the man's face, leaving three gaping wounds behind, blood pouring out.

Tommy turns around to face the other three guards, teeth bared. The footage cuts off as Tommy snarls and lunges forward]

[Tommy is seen again, still in wolf form, with more blood covering him than before. He seems to be stalking forward, a terrified guard facing him. Purpled suddenly appear, running, with two scientist behind him.

"Tommy..." Purpled says it quietly, hand up as he approaches quietly. Tommy pays no attention to him, still moving forward.

"Tommy." he says it louder thing time, suddenly a lot more serious.

Purpled sighs when Tommy doesn't indicate he heard him in any way, and closes his eyes instead. His antennae glow a bright purple. 

Suddenly, Tommy whips his head towards Purpled, staring him dead in the eyes. Purpled opens his own slowly, before approaching Tommy quietly. Tommy's pupils seem a little larger.

"There we go," Purpled murmurs, brushing a hand through Tommy's fur, who leans into the touch, "you better now?"

The footage cuts off.]

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Development Report: Subject S-264 and Subject S-103

11/03/24

S-264 seems to have formed a major attachment to S-103 during some of their schooling periods together. S-103 was introduced to T-263 and H-127 as well, but has a much stronger attachment to S-264 than any of the others, though it does still like T-263 and H-127. This bond has both improved S-264 and S-103's overall productiveness by 3%. We are going to continue to force these two together, just to see if this will increase any more.

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Development Report: Subject H-127

01/17/25

Subject H-127 is asking to see Subject S-264 and Subject T-263 instead of its sibling, G-126. We are keeping an eye on their friendship, so as to make sure that they don't plan anything, but are letting them continue speaking to each other.

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Subject G-126, Mission Report:

10/02/25

Subject G-126's mission started off as normal. It left the base with the guards and its tracker, but at some point, all connection was cut. Based on what we can tell, Subject G-126 is either dead or its mission has been terminated. The heroes speak of reforming a villain, so we have reason to believe G-126 has been captured by the heroes. H-127 has been devastated since we informed it, and S-264 and T-263 have been the only ones it is willing to speak to.

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Subject S-264, Experiment 176:

12/27/25

Subject S-264 has been tested successfully. We have discovered it has the ability to not just turn into full beasts, but also gain minor parts of their body. During Experiment 176, it managed to gain the wings of a bird, specifically, a blue jay. It seems to take more getting used to when it does this, but we will work on pushing that time as far as possible. Footage was deemed unnecessary for this trial.

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Incident Report: Subject S-264

08/13/26

Subject was being taken out for testing, and caught sight of T-263, who had just finished its experiment and was covered with blood. S-264 demanded to go over and see it, but when refused, lashed out. Two guards were injured before Subject S-264 was restrained. Later, when questioned as to why it acted violently, Subject S-264 said [Redacted, Higher Clearance Required]. Higher surveillance is being place of S-264. Footage of the incident and the interview are below.

Attached Files
[Redacted, Higher Clearance Required]

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Subject Request Denied: Subject S-264

01/30/27

Subject requested access to the internet. The request was denied. When it asked why it could not have it, and we said because it could inform people of our location, Subject S-264 grinned, and asked whether we didn't want to public to find out about [Redacted, Higher Clearance Required] or [Redacted, Higher Clearance Required], both incidents that are under heavy surveillance with very few people knowing about what went on during them. It is unknown how Subject S-264 got access or even knows about them, but Subject S-264 is being placed under even higher security, and educational lessons will be restricted to its cell. The occasional visit from S-103, H-127, or T-263 will be permitted, as long as they are under supervision.

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Subject S-264, Experiment 294:

03/15/28

Subject S-264's time it takes to shift has been narrowed from 2.346 minutes to 16.3 seconds. It seems to be pushing itself past its limits. Be wary of what it is planning.

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Subject Request Granted Denied: Subject S-264

01/12/29, Updated 02/03/29

Subject S-264 requested a guitar. Request has been granted  denied.

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Incident Report: Subject S-264

02/03/29

Subject S-264 managed to convince a guard to let it out of its cell using the guitar, singing a lullaby that no one had ever heard. In a daze, the guard agreed, stating that he would have to be watching it the entire time. Subject S-264 agreed, but when it stepped out of the containment unit, it smashed the guitar over the guard's head. The guard was knocked out, and as he was the only one there, Subject S-264 was free to leave. It wandered the facility for a total time of one hour and twenty-two minutes before it was caught and taken to its cell. Subject S-264 agreed that it didn't mind control or manipulate the guard in any way, but, during that time, Subject T-263 was in an experiment, and its cuffs were deactivated. We hypothesize that Subject T-263 managed to manipulate the guard's thoughts from where it was, and the guitar was to make that easier, as the guard already had thoughts about how nice the music was. As of currently, Subject S-264's access to the guitar had been revoked to prevent a similar incident from happening again.

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Subject T-263, Experiment 357:

08/27/31

Subject T-263 has discovered how to tap into its mutant form, where it listens to its instincts more than thought, at will. This will be useful for missions later, but be wary of testing it now, as it can fight back. When in this form, its telekinetic range expands from 500 feet (152.4 meters) to 700 feet (213.36 meters). It seeks out blood like an animal in this form, but will protect the other experiments, namely S-264, with its life. Harming S-264, S-103, or H-127 when T-263 is like this is a practical death wish.

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Incident Report: Subject T-263

05/01/33

Subject T-263 had disappeared from its cell. There is no trace of it, and all cameras were shut offline during that time by Subject L-274 in a power accident, specifically from9:32 am to 10:47 am. It is unknown how T-263 exactly escaped, but the guards have proclaimed it dead, as they found a massive pool of blood in the middle of the woods, and heard the screech of something inhuman. S-264 has been acting quieter ever since the report, and H-127 and S-103 have been disappearing from their cells more and more.

---------

Chapter Text

Tommy awoke quietly, as he often did these days, a nightmare that he couldn't quite remember fresh in his mind. It was just blurry enough to be frustrating, and he narrowed his eyes in annoyance, trying to push back on the fuzzy memories of the dream so he could see it before they disappeared. He was unsuccessful, and the few shambles he had fell apart in his head, washing away like water.

With a groan, he leaned his head back, eyes still closed. His containment cell was tight, and felt stiff, but he didn't honestly care that much, having got used to it since he got put in higher containment. He still snorted whenever he thought of their faces as he told them he knew about the R-01 Contamination and X-02 Incident. Honestly, he didn't understand how they thought he was the one that found out about it; his platonic partner can literally read minds. People are so fucking dumb sometimes.

He groaned with the reminder that his educational lessons had been the day before, meaning he had nothing to do today except sit and wait for his lunch, maybe an experiment if he was unlucky. Tommy could feel the need for chaos under his skin, for him to go out and cause the employees of the facility to have to file another incident report, but honestly, he didn't know how to this time. He didn't have a guitar to bash over the head of another guard fucker, and Purpled hadn't given him another incident or file that he could freak them out with the knowledge of.

Hey.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Tommy supposed. Purpled had a way of doing that, always showing up as soon as he was mentioned.

I can hear you jackass.  

Ah, sorry Purpled. Did you need something?

Just wanted to say that you're probably not going to have to worry about experiments, or, actually, guards today.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, why not?

I may have caused mass panic within the facility.

How? Tommy really wanted to laugh. He really wanted to laugh, but was afraid that might give away he and Purpled communicating.

If I hypothetically escaped because a guard left the key to my cuffs where Drista could snatch it, how would you react?

Tommy blinked. Had he heard that correctly?

Yes, you heard that correctly.

Why did the guard leave the key out now instead of, I don't know, two, three years ago?

Okay, so 'left out' weren't exactly the right words. More 'he had it on him and Drista snatched him, and used the moment to go to a kid our age she met -Allow, remember him? Guy with the lightning power?- to fry the cameras for a while by 'accidentally' letting out too much power during one of his experiments. She then came to my room, got the cuffs and collar off of me, before dragging me out of the facility. The door lock was fried because of the kid.

Tommy didn't know how to react to that. He chose to question Purpled rather than panic.

Wouldn't the lightning have shorted out the cuffs too?

Apparently, after an incident a while back, they insulated all of the cuffs. Seems they forgot the insulate the door as well though.

Tommy leaned back, breathing in heavily. This felt perfect. Too perfect. But, he wasn't going to look this opportunity over; they had a telepathic teenager that they were friends with on the outside of the facility. His power could communicate to pretty much everyone in the facility.

Stealing himself slightly, Tommy forced his body to relax, have you found anything out that could help the rest of us escape? I'm probably going to be the hardest to get out.

It was quiet in his head for a moment, before, the generator they have is powerful. Super powerful. Remember how we would sometimes see that guard carrying a cart of technical supplies but we never knew what it was for?

Yeah.

Apparently, every Monday, they replace the chip with a different one. It resets the passwords, and refreshes everything so that no one can get into it. That chip connects to all of their software, the security system...

Our cuffs.

Exactly. If we managed to put a virus on a chip that looks the same as the ones they put in, on Monday, they would put it into the computer. It could disable our cuffs, collars, the security system, and probably the power for pretty much the entire building.

Ignoring the hope flaring up in his chest like a raging bonfire, Tommy focused. It wouldn't...it wasn't a plan that would be impossible to pull off. The hardest thing would be getting the virus onto the chip, but he was certain that Drista could swipe one from wherever they were kept. He would add the virus himself, but they didn't allow him alone with any tech because they thought he was an 'all-knowing cryptid' (Purpled's words, not his own), so he'd have to find someone else capable of adding the code into the files. Shroud was immediately off of the list, he wasn't putting the thirteen-year-old in danger like that, not if he could help it. Drista could be a good choice, but Tommy was planning on making her do so much already with this plan, he shouldn't make her risk herself any more than she had to. Purpled didn't have access to a computer without going back into the facility, which left one of their classmates. Who would be a good person to pick...

Karmi? Girl with the intelligence power?

He blinked, who?

Oh, right, you were moved to private schooling before she got here. She's currently 17, almost 18, and her power essentially makes her IQ super high. 190 I believe? She'd probably be the best choice.

Tommy closed his eyes, but would she be willing to go along with it? I know quite a few people here are fucking wimps who are too afraid to cause a little chaos.

I believe two months ago she managed to get a hold of a hose and doused three guards before they managed to take it away, so I don't think that will be a problem.

I'm already indebted to her. Pitch the idea and see how she reacts to it. If she seems hesitant to do it without a price, tell her I'm willing to in debt my service if ever she needs it.

He leaned back, welcoming the silence that engulfed his mind. Purpled was no doubt attempting to find the correct position to communicate with this girl, sorting through person after person until he found the correct mind for him to place himself in. It was a tiring process, Tommy had learned that a while ago, but Purpled seemed happy to do so.

Careful not to activate the collar, he tapped the outside. His eyes flicked down with a grimace as it tightened against his neck, a warning for what was to come if he were to move his hands a little closer to the inside. Hesitantly, he put his hands into his lap, staring blankly ahead of him.

Tommy hated this fucking collar. He felt like a fucking animal, like some monster that needed to be caged in order to protect the world. It weighed constantly on his mind, and Tommy hated it. Hated the fact that he couldn't remember the faces of his brothers and dad behind a few blurry memories, just like he couldn't remember his friends. He hated how he had been kept away from society for so long that he didn't even know what to expect at this point; had it changed a bunch? Was it the same? Did he even fucking remember which town he was from at this point?

Upon wracking his brain for an answer, he came to the conclusion, no, he didn't remember. Tommy hated not remembering. He hated the fact that dreams of sitting with his family and playing in the snow were replaced so long ago by nightmares of drowning, blood coating his entire body, with wounds lacing his arms and legs. He hated the fact that the only fucking clear memories he had before he was nine were being kidnapped and when he got this god awful power that condemned him to a life of being experimented on for fun by scientists.

He seemed to hate a lot these days. A child once so full of love, now so full of anger. He wondered what his family would think of him now, the kind boy they once knew replaced by an impostor. 

Pushing those thoughts out of his head, Tommy focused on the plan. If Karmi accepted, then there would be a...

He squinted, tilting his head as he pondered their chance. Karmi would need to get to a computer somewhere to add the code, and it was likely to take her several hours, if not days to finish the code. Allow would probably have to fry it again to make sure that Drista could escape her cell, though knowing her, she'd probably be able to do it anyway. Then, Drista would have to replace the chip on the cart without the guy noticing, and from there they just had to pray that it worked and hope they didn't get caught in the blast zone...

Yeah, they had about a 5% chance of this working. But, honestly, those were the best odds that they'd had so far on a plan, so Tommy was going to ride this out until the end. Who gave a fuck if they ended up killing him? Wherever he'd end up was probably better than this hellhole.

With a shake of his head, he poked at the lingering presence of Purpled in his mind, not quite leaving but not really there either. Just enough that he wouldn't have to look through hundreds of minds again to find him. Purpled didn't reply to the poke, so he figured that he was still talking to Karmi about the plan.

He smiled. They'd be able to save so many people, so many subjects with it. There wouldn't need to be another eight-year-old kidnapped from outside his school to be experimented on, not if Tommy could help it.

So many people will die from the explosion too.

The thought made him blink, but....but he didn't feel emotional over it at all. Almost...detached, like a puppet just listening to the commands of its puppeteer. It was...unnerving, that he had such a little reaction to something that would have made him panic at just he mention of it a few years ago.

The lingering thought of what his family would think of him now moved towards the front of his thoughts, but he pushed it back. Tommy couldn't waste time thinking about a past he would never get back, not now. Not after his vow of never thinking of them again, not after over nine years of torture because his family failed to find him.

Tommy shook his head. He couldn't afford to have doubts now, not after so long of wishing, praying for an escape. People would die; he'd try and minimize the death, but people would die, and there was nothing he could do the stop that.

Tommy?

Ah, Purpled. What did she say?

She said sure. Wants to know any finer details, but said, and I quote, "I get to fuck with the guards and get the fuck out of here? I don't need one of your shitty favors, I'll do that shit for free."

Damn. I really like this girl. Tell her that I'm giving her the favor anyway, and that she's free to come with us to...wherever we're going to go once we get out. Either way, details.

Right.

Tell her we need something that will, pretty much, just corrupt anything it touches. Doesn't have to be pretty, just has to get rid of all their files on us. Allow can fry the building if the code doesn't work, but I'd prefer to make sure we get rid of everything they have.

Makes sense. I'll let her know.

Tommy paused, she knows the consequences for if we get caught, right?

Quiet for a moment.

She does.

Just making sure. Let's pray that this works, I don't particularly fancy going through...whatever they have planned for us.

Amen Toms. I need to go, I'm going to organize a couple of things with a couple of our other classmates and Drista.

I, he paused, wondering how he should word it, though Purpled probably already knew what he meant, when we...when we do this, make sure Shroud gets out, okay? I don't...I already hate that he didn't have a normal childhood at all, I don't want him facing consequences for this.

I will Tommy. I will.

Neither of them commented on the fact that he didn't say he promised, when all those years ago, they most definitely would have, when they were naive kids not yet used to the prospect that they were going to be stuck here for quite a while. Promises were something they never made to each other, not after they were taken away from their families, pushed into a life that no person should ever have to leave. Promises weren't something to be taken lightly, they both knew that. You don't make a promise unless it was serious.

And they didn't feel like making promises that they might not be able to keep.

Chapter Text

Blood painting the walls, water dragging him down into the depths. The collar around his throat burned stronger than it had ever before, tightening until it felt almost impossible to breath. He wanted to die. He wanted to live. Tommy wasn't sure anymore.

His throat was scratched and bloody from screaming through the salty water, and even as it burned his eyes, he was forced to keep them open, staring at the form in front of him. A black body, with black hair, eight blood red eyes staring at Tommy as though he had committed the greatest crime to man. Five arms huddled around the figure, all hanging limply. Vaguely, Tommy could see the chopped off stump of another one behind the figure.

"Y̶͙̐̂o̴̤̎̔̎ȕ̷̲̯ d̷͍̺̚i̵̡̅̉͒͋d̸ ̴̡̛̫̎̿͘t̶̫̻͓̓̎͛ḧ̴̨̹̘̀͝ḯ̵͓͙̃͑͜s̵͍̹̟̤͗͐,̴̳̭̿" it seemed to yell, though Tommy couldn't tell whether it was the world around him or the bloodied and broken form of the boy he had come to love as a little brother.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout, to yell at the top of his lungs that he didn't do this, that he would never do this, but every time he opened his mouth, water filled his lungs, and blood would drip into it, mixing with the water in a beautiful waterfall, as though it was trying to strangle him into submission.

He felt the darkness encroaching upon his vision, his mind blacking out as the pain became too much for his body. It was too much. Everything was too much. He was in so much pain, yet numb at the same time, eyes stinging, but yet not able to close, not able to look away.

When darkness finally enclosed upon his vision, Tommy closed his eyes willingly, wanting to do anything to get away from the cold harsh waves, water filling his lungs, and broken form of his kind-of-younger-brother.

Tommy awoke with a start, his throat feeling dry despite the phantom feeling of blood dripping down it, of salty water crawling upon the inside, scratching it up slowly as he tried to speak again and again. He was very aware that he was shaking, but honestly, couldn't find it in himself to calm down, not even caring that someone could be watching him. Based on how dim the lights are, Tommy would guess it was still around mid morning, so they wouldn't be coming to do anything to him for a little while, at least until lunch or a little after. Honestly, he felt a little bad for the other subject. If there was one plus of being moved to higher containment, it was that he got tested later, so he had to be awake for less time after that.

Still, he felt like a wimp, shaking with tears still running down his face from just a stupid fucking nightmare. Shroud had been a weak spot for him as long as he had known the younger, and he felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of what he had looked like in his nightmare, the image still clear as day. Blood running down his form, an arm ripped off, with vicious claw marks adorning his entire body. He shivered. Tommy would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening. Shroud had already had too much of his childhood taken away from him as is, Tommy wouldn't let that life be cut short.

For a while, he stayed like that, curled up into the corner, shaking silently as tears rolled down his face. Still, he didn't let a sound out, not wanting to somehow find out that his throat was, in fact, scratched beyond repair. That would hurt too much.

So he sat there, silent, until a presence plummeted into his head, so different from the comforting one that Purpled held. He tensed; this felt more...unintentional, as though the person was forced into his head. Still, he called out, holding onto the hope that this could be his friend.

Purpled?

The presence fluttered, uh, sorry...whoever you are. I'm not...Purpled?

Tommy tensed, then who the fuck are you?

My names Delilah, the voice murmured, and I didn't come here by choice. They managed to scare me, I just went to a random head.

Hold on, Tommy couldn't remember a time he had been more confused. No, wait, that's a lie, he was here during the , sorry, what? You came into my head by fucking accident? How does that even work?

The presence paused, My power lets me submit my consciousness into other people's. I usually do it by choice, but when I'm scared, I don't really get a choice. I've...I don't think I've seen you around here. Are you new?

No way, Tommy almost snorted at the thought of him being new.

Been here since I was eight. I'm eighteen now.

Jeez, she muttered, I think I would have lost my sanity if I was stuck here for ten years. I've been here five.

"I'm barely holding onto mine," he muttered, before closing his eyes, yeah, I was moved into higher containment two years after I got here. Probably why you haven't seen me around.

Why...why were you moved to higher containment?

He grinned, apparently, when you tell the guards confidential information that you shouldn't have access to, they freak out enough that you get placed in higher containment.

How did you know...

Only the fool give their faith to those they yet to understand, for the wise will spread false truths to see what the fools will do with it, he hummed, now, if you would please, get the fuck out of my head.

I-

They seemed frightened, as though his words were intimidating. They were meant to be, and Tommy grinned at the reaction.

If you utter a word of what you have learned here to me, you will learn what an interconnected web of allies you gain after spending ten years in one place. I do not intend to create unnecessary casualties, but I will if I have to. Am I clear fucker?

The presence almost immediately receded away from his mind, and Tommy grinned, all tooth. It looked dangerous, like a warning, and telling of the chaos and havoc that is to come.

Why am I in higher containment? he thought to himself, leaning back wit ha smirk on his face, this entire facility is about to find out. And I have a feeling that they won't like it when they do.

Chapter Text

One day. 

They had one day until the break out. Karmi had managed to get the code completely, though barely, done the previous day, and Drista narrowly avoided some guards in the hallways while leading her back to her cell. He took a deep breath in. One day, that's all he had to survive.

Still, trying to rest wasn't a very viable strategy when it felt as though his nerves were wound up to the point of nearly bursting. Everything felt on edge, like the slightest tip of a hat could make this whole plan go awry. 

Purpled had been attempting to calm him down for the better part of the hour, but Tommy wasn't listening to him, instead trying to push the telepathic teenager away so he could get some silence.

You need to calm down Tommy.

What I need, he thought angrily, is some fucking sleep.

He could practically feel Purpled sigh through the bond he had created. It was quiet for a few moment, before Purpled spoke again.

I have more news on the break out plans?

Tommy's eyes shot open, and he was frozen for a few second, before shoving the bond with Purpled, why didn't you tell me that first asshole!

Sorry, sorry.

Just get on with it.

Right. There's been an...increase in activity by guards around this time. Drista's noticed it to. Specifically, a higher increase of guards around the generator.

The same generator we're going to blow sky high, he though, unease settling just under his skin.

Yeah. They won't think anything of it, but it pretty much all of the guards are located around it...

We don't need to fight as many off once we blow this place. So that's good for us.

It was quiet for a moment, before Purpled grasped a bit tighter at the bond, we should really talk about what we're going to do, you know, after we get out.

Well, what do you think we should do? In all honestly, Tommy didn't remember much of the outside world. There was a vague understanding, both from his memory and the lessons that they were forced to do, but he hadn't really ever seen it in practice.

I think... Purpled paused, I think that we should stay around the facility for a few days to try and loot it for anything that could help us out there. I'm fairly certain pretty much all of us are considered dead to the rest of the world, so any money we can get our hands on, or food, or just supplies in general will really help us.

And the other subjects?

They can stay if they want, or they can leave. I don't really care, it's their choice, not mine.

Fair enough. 

It was quiet again, and Tommy could help the thought that floated into his mind.

Do you...do you remember what your life was like before the facility?

Purpled was silent for a few moments, and Tommy wondered if he had angered his best friend, before the older boy nudged him mentally, I don't...it's blurry.

Everything is there, but I can only make out snippets of memories. It's like...like a slideshow. Every once in a while, I'll get a good memory, but most of them have been...replaced by the bad ones. By ones of the facility. I remember Punz's hair, the fact that he wore a bright white hoodie, and gold. I remember that he wasn't home a lot. but loved me when he was. I don't...I don't remember much more than that. Not after all this time.

I...I'm fairly the same. Every once in a while, I'll get a snippet. Wilbur singing me a song, Techno reading me bedtime stories, my dad flying me through the air, but it always...feels just out of reach. Like a goal I will never be able to reach. Is it bad that...that I lived with them for only eight years, but...but I mourn the life I never had? A life that could have been filled with joy and love and comfort where ours is just...pain. Constant pain.

I don't...I don't know anymore. I think our sense of normal is at least slightly screwed though, don't you agree?

Couldn't have worded it better myself Purpled.

That night, Tommy fell asleep trying to remember what his life was like before the facility, before the nightmares and pain and suffering. He didn't succeed, besides a few blurry memories of half put together pictures of his family's faces. He fell asleep with disappointment flowing through his veins.

He fell asleep mourning the life he never had. The life he should have been given, should have been guaranteed. Mourning the fact that fate had such a twisted sense of humor, to plague him with never quite complete memories of his family, of the life he had once lived.

Chapter Text

When Tommy awoke, it wasn't to a nightmare, it wasn't because of guards screaming at him to wake up, or ominous footsteps echoing through the corridors. It was to a gentle nudge in his mind, reminding him that the world still existed, that he needed to get up and go throughout his day.

So, with a groan, he sat up, rubbing nightly at his head when it pulsed with unhappiness at the sudden movement. Looking around the lights were still off, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. The lights were always turned on at five a.m. so that the kids would be bale to get to schooling, and even on days where there was no school they turned on at six no matter what. 

But today was a school day, and something felt...off. There was a reason he woke up this early, he was sure of it.

Purpled? 

He wasn't sure if it was going to work, but the gentle nudging in his head that woke him up had felt slightly like his telepathic friend. A little...off, more frantic and less collected, but like him nonetheless.

Tommy! We have, uh, probably bad news.

He stilled, eyes wide. His hands shook, and he moved them to grip his legs so he could give them something to go. Ignoring the pain it brought him, he immediately, gripped onto the bond, sending a tug towards Purpled that made it known he needed to know what had happened.

What.

You remember the fact that guards have been centralizing around the generator more?

Yes, I fucking remember.

Well, apparently, they weren't there to guard the generator, they were there to guard the office that the leader of the facility.

Tommy froze, that doesn't follow the normal pattern. So what fucking changed?

Some fucker snitched.

No. No. Not now, not now please. They were so fucking close, please. They had one chance, one fucking chance, Tommy was close to the end, so close to being able to get out, and some motherfucker had snitched and ruined everything.

Tommy calm down. They didn't know much.

He paused. How much did they know? How much did they snitch?

They know that we're going to attempt something today. They don't know what, and I didn't tell the person who snitched much, but based on what I've heard, they just think it's some half-assed plan to escape. They don't know who started it, don't know who's involved, but they know it's happening.

You know who the snitch is?

Yeah. Why?

Good. We're going to get out of here, we're going to give our all and still make this plan work, and then we're going to tear into the rat that nearly gave away our plan. As soon as they get out there, you can feel free to tear into them, rip their reputation, I don't care. But leave some for me. I have a few words to say. 

Got it. A few hours Tommy, that's all we need.

A few hours, right.

Carefully, he breathed out, leaning his head against the wall behind him. His hand twitched on his leg, the urge to hit something hard overwhelming his senses. He just had to wait a little bit, and then everything would be fine. It had to be.

With a sigh, Tommy let himself fall back, still there but not focusing on anything, oblivious to the world around him. Dissociation, he vaguely remembered, only having heard about it when he did it in class one time, and the teacher told him what it meant. 

Time passed quickly. It was the same, but at some point a tray was slid into the room. Tommy paid no attention to it, didn't bother to move from his spot on the floor.

The only thing that managed to startled him out of his thoughts was the sound of footsteps along the ground, clopping in a way that he had not heard before. His teacher hadn't come today, so he assumed that his was sick or something. The scientists were always quiet, barely there. But this, this was different. These were loud, and there was a power behind them that showed the person knew they were powerful. He scowled at the thought, wondering if they were physically or mentally powerful.

When the door opened, Tommy schooled his expression to not show any emotion, though he nervously tugged at the bond with Purpled, unsure of what the person standing there wanted.

She wore a suit, two dress shoes clicking against the floor as she walked. Shoulder length brown hair layed around her, yet it wasn't messy, almost too perfect. It...unnerved him, but he still didn't move, instead tugging at the bond with Purpled even more hoping to gain a response.

"S-264," she hummed, tilting her head. Vaguely, he heard Purpled telling him something in his head, but he focused on what she was saying instead, "we have a couple of things that are needed to discuss."

He inclined his head at her, but gave no verbal indication that he had listened. Her scowl only deepened, and Tommy internally cheered. Small victories.

"Recently, it had come to my attention that there have been certain...plans going around the facility. I have reason to believe that you are partially responsible for planning them," she flung her hair around her shoulder, cold brown eyes still staring at him passively.

Purpled, when is the plan taking place?

She took a step forward, and the door closed behind her, "obviously, we can't let that stand. You will be given punishment for...riling up and causing such an...outburst."

I believe Drista just sent the chip in, why?

"But of course," he shivered at the sound of her voice, dripped with so much honey it got too sweet, sickeningly sweet, "we would like to give you the chance to defend yourself. Do you have anything to say for yourself S-264?"

Because I think that the leader is right in front of me. 

Shit, really?

Yeah. I'll keep her occupied, send me updates.

He leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them, staring at her with his blue eyes. He knew how dull they looked now, how all of his fight had looked to be washed away. Once a sunny day's sky, now the raging storm over the ocean.

Instead of answering her question, he decided to ask her one himself, "do you know the story of Sisyphus?"

She narrowed her eyes, but shook her head. Internally, he thanked Techno for reading him Greek myths as bedtime stories when he was younger.

"Sisyphus was a cruel leader, who took advantage of many of his subject. He took and he took and he took, before someone finally decided to take from him."

Tommy leaned back, "Zeus, the god of thunder, decided to make him repent for his deeds. He was cursed to forever push a boulder up a hill in the pits of the underworld, only for whenever it reached the top, it would roll down."

The guy with the cart is almost at the center Toms. Once the virus spreads, there'll be a thirty second delay before the generator fully explodes.

How long would you guess I have to keep her here?

...two minutes, give or take.

Got it.

"What are you trying to say, S-264?" she questioned, looking rather tense.

He tilted his head forward, "in this case, you are Sisyphus, and I am one of your subjects, cursed to be under your cruel reign until the Zeus of this world decides to free us from your reign."

"Would you not be the Zeus?" she looked rather uncomfortable, her eyes flitting around the cell.

Tommy laughed, holding up his wrist, and, by proxy, his clasp, "with this, I am too weak to be your Zeus. It needs to be something that could end your entire kingdom, your reign in one swoop. There is only one thing in this building that could be Zeus, and it is not me."

"Then what is it!" she hissed, stepping forward.

Purpled?

Twenty seconds till they get there Tommy. I'm trying my best here.

I know.

"That, you will know soon enough."

She growled, and Tommy could feel sweltering heat emanate from her, "you're fool. You are a fool of a child, attempting to keep what I need from me."

The chip is in Tommy. Thirty more seconds.

He breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes, before looking up at her, grinning as she startled. He was well aware of how slitted his eyes are, the fact that he looks more beast than monster, and for once, he was glad he was able to control the pupils even when his powers were kept down.

"I'm not attempting to keep what you need from you," he said simply, "that's not my goal here at all."

Silence, before, "is this supposed to be a threat S-264? A threat that you want to take me out?"

He shook his head, "not a threat."

Get ready.

"A promise."

An explosion ripped through the building, echoing through the hollow walls. Screaming of terror and pain rippled out after it. Tremors wracked the structure, and, as the leader was distracted, Tommy stood, hand against the wall to keep himself steady.

"I always have taken after my brothers," he hummed, and she whipped her head round to him, staring with an emotion that Tommy couldn't describe, but one that brought him so much glee, "though I can't remember much. I remember both were dramatic, preferring the poetic way of going out." 

His non-clasped hand glowed, a claw extending from it as he brought it across the clasp that, usually, had so much more power to it. The claw sliced right through it, falling to the floor with a clatter. He grinned, a feral, frightening thing.

"Though, they weren't my only inspiration. I believe you remember the X-02 Incident?"

She froze, staring at him with wide eyes, "how- what- you shouldn't know about that!"

He let out a great laugh, and, though he ached to rip the collar off his throat, he couldn't. It had been too long, it had burned him too many times, melded into his skin tightly by this point. There was no point where they were different, metal and skin burned together. A wound cauterized but not quite healed.

"Dear, I shouldn't know a lot of things. I shouldn't know that I can survive underwater for two minutes and eight seconds without breathing. I shouldn't know what being electrocuted and tortured feels like, what drowning or having surgery without pain medicine feels like. But I do."

He stepped forward again, his pupils narrowing any further, "but I do. And who's fault is that?"

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, "S-264, we-we can talk about this!"

"Talk?" he growled, "years ago, when I was just a kid, I might have accepted that offer. Might have thought that you truly wanted to change. But being raised like this, in a place where I've seen people come and go, live and die, you learn to understand things."

He let his arm fully shift into that of a bear, massive claws hanging off of the end, "and one thing I understand now is that people like you never change."

With that, he brought down his arm, slashing her. Screams of terror echoed throughout the room, the bloodied and broken form of the once powerful president standing in front of him. He knew that this would haunt his nightmares later, his first intentional kill, but Tommy didn't think he could ever find it in himself to regret it. Not to her, not to the person who had been the cause of all his pain and suffering. 

He wasn't sure what he did in that time, both there and not. His instincts mostly took control, and by the time that he got it again, all that was left was her broken bloodied corpse. A brutally mangled leg sat in the corner of the room, ripped off the body, with a trail of blood leading towards it. Claw marks ran down the entire body, and blood covered nearly all of the room. Tommy grinned, before slowly letting his arm shift to normal, neatly moving towards the door.

Everything all right Purpled?

I think so. I've been helping people get out. Are you okay?

I'm fine. The leader of the facility? Not so much.

Dead or badly injured?

Dead. Very, very dead. Her leg was on the other side of the fucking room.

I would feel bad, but she deserved it, so...

Exactly. I've got to go, I'm going to look around for a bit, see if I can find anyone else.

Alright. Drista and Shroud are still in there, since she was still getting out last I checked in with them.

He ignored the way his breath caught, instead sending a confirmation back to Purpled. Carefully, he wove his way through the hallways, ears pricked as he listened for anything. He carefully avoided the fire, not wanting to be reminded of what it felt like to burn.

After a few minutes, he heard the sound of a gun firing several times, before screaming echoed afterwards, from a voice he couldn't recognize. Almost instantly, Tommy whipped through the hallways, sprinting towards the sound. Some guards had most definitely survived, and Tommy wasn't about to let anyone die on his watch.

When he turned the corner, Tommy froze almost instantly. On the floor, in front of him, was a girl he couldn't recognize, pure black hair, and sitting in a pool of blood. Seven bullet wounds went through her chest, and her eyes were rolled to the back of her head. He shivered, before his gaze lifted upwards, and he felt his stomach roll.

Because there, sitting on the floor, was Shroud, a very obvious bullet wound in his leg as he squeezed his eyes, tears rolling down. He desperately gripped onto Drista, who was curling around him, a protective yet worried look on her face. When the made eye contact, Drista nodded towards the guard, and Tommy felt himself fill with rage.

Slowly, he turned to face them, well aware of how he looked at the moment, "you shot them."

One of them growled, aiming his gun directly at Tommy, "so what if we did? Go back to your fucking cell, or you'll be next."

Tommy growled, though it soon turned into hysterical laughter, "you clearly don't know who you're talking to, do you? Then let me introduce myself."

He bowed, eyes feral, "the names Tommy, also known as S-264, also known as the higher containment subject. And you, good sir, about to find out exactly why I'm in higher containment."

Immediately, he shot forward, white light immediately engulfing his body. He shifted, the familiar form of a wolf overtaking him. For once, despite the fact that he was in the presence of Shroud and Drista, he let the instincts completely take over. 

He wasn't entirely aware of what happened. Whether the instincts were in control, he was, or if both of them were, Tommy couldn't tell. The stench of blood was a constant, only getting worse as time went on.

Tommy was aware of when he got brought out of the instinct haze, by Shroud whining.

"T-Toms..." he cried, tears still leaking out of his eyes as he sobbed, curling into Drista's chest as his shoulder shook with fear.

Immediately, Tommy, in wolf form, whipped around instantly, pressing himself to the younger's side. Worried, he let out a whine, not even wincing when Shroud buried his hand into Tommy's fur, squeezing a tad bit too tight. He pawed at the ground next to Shroud's leg, nudging him worriedly.

When Shroud didn't respond, Tommy turned up to Drista, who's eyes were golden as she used her magic. Lightly, he nudged her arm, and she spared him a glance, before turning back to Shroud, the golden light fading out of her eyes slowly.

After another minute or so, Tommy had lulled Shroud to sleep, and Drista had finally blinked the golden edge out of her eyes, before turning to stare at Tommy.

"He and I are both...I think that if I use my healing anymore I'm going to pass out," she said finally, tilting her head at him.

He nodded in understanding, instead choosing to tuck his head under Shroud's body. Drista made a confused noise for a moment, before sucking in a breath.

"You wanna carry him?"

From under Shroud's body, Tommy nodded, and he felt Drista pick the thirteen-year-old off of him, setting him lightly on top of Tommy. As he started to walk, he felt Drista lean a little more on him, and he accepted the extra weight, walking a little slower for the girl.

And so, the three walked out of the bloodbath, several bodies left in their wake.

The only thing they couldn't leave behind were the memories, despite how much they wanted to.

Chapter Text

The camp that they set up was a twenty minutes walk from the wreckage of the facility. It wasn't much, and most of the subjects who managed to make it out alive decided to leave immediately. Tommy would guess there were about twenty or thirty people who stayed, and most of them were the young kids who had no one else, who didn't know how to get back to their homes, to their families.

Sometimes he felt jealous of them, the kids who could still remember their families, still remember the summer and winter nights they spent. The ones who hadn't had their memories replaced with starving, drowning, hurting, beatings, death, and destruction. He hated every time that he got jealous.

Not a lot of people were allowed to go back to the wreckage. In case someone was still alive, one of the guards mostly, the kids were forced to stay back at the camp. Then there had to be responsible people who could watch them, which consisted of four subjects, all of whom were some of the older ones. 

Delilah- who Tommy had talked with and, though begrudgingly, apologized too -, Leah -a girl with the power to feel other's emotions-, and two other that he hadn't cared enough to find out the names of. 

All in all, there were a total of seven people who would go to the wreckage to try and salvage things. Himself, Purpled, Drista, Allow, a girl named Ashley, a boy named Lucas, and another person named Lyla. Tommy was still uncomfortable with most of them, though he had gotten a little closer with Allow and Lucas, though he wasn't comfortable around them, not by a long shot.

It was...tiring to go around the facility and grab things. Small knickknacks, toys that the kids might like. Some money had been found, grabbed from the leader's room, whose name they found out was Harley, or from the lockers that used to be where the employees would put their personal items. A lot of what they found...couldn't really be used anymore. Covered with soot and ash, shattered to pieces. Sometimes, they would find the bloody carcass of a fellow subject or a guard.

It was stressful to say the least, but they continued to push through.

It didn't matter how many broken bodies he found. It didn't matter that he knew each and every one of them had been caused by him. By his plan. It didn't matter, and it didn't bother him.

Still, it had been nearly a week since they had gotten rid of the facility, and Tommy knew that they would have to start moving soon. As much as he didn't want to, he knew that they would have to, they couldn't stay here forever; he didn't want to stay here forever, surrounded by bad memories.

So, eight days since they had escaped, Tommy got up in the morning, but rather than going out to the facility's wreckage again, he shook Purpled awake, smiling as he watched the other groan.

Purpled squinted his eyes open, "Toms? What do you want? I wanted to actually sleep for once."

"We're leaving today," Tommy said it with a sense of finality, and Purpled sat up straight when he heard his tone. 

"Are you sure?" he questioned, "you think we have enough resources?"

Tommy forced himself up, "I don't think we have much of a choice Big Man. And I don't...I don't want to stay near the facility for any longer than I have to."

They were silent as they made their way to Drista's tent, waking her up and telling her the same thing, before moving on to Shroud. They didn't tell him quite as much, but enough so that the younger boy knew that they were leaving.

A few hours later, they stood on the edge of the camp, looking out into the forest that surrounded the entire area that the facility was in uncertainly. They had no clue what was out there, no clue what would happen or what would greet them. Tommy was the most unsure of all, part of him not wanting to leave the familiar environment of the facility.

Before he could back out, a hand landed on his shoulder, and he tensed, turning around to see Delilah standing behind him with a pained smile on her face.

She gave a squeeze to his shoulder, "you're gonna do great out there kid. We hope to see you again; you're our savior."

"I..." he turned his head out, looking over the forest again, before tilting his head back, a more determined look in his gaze, "I will. Thank you Delilah, I hope to see you all again, in less..." he glanced in the direction of the facility, a haunted look coming over his face before the determined one came back, "...unfortunate circumstances."

Carefully, he took her hand off of his shoulder, and the group of four slowly began to leave, walking onto the forest past, through the darkness to try and reach a civilization that they hadn't been too for a majority of their lives. Right before he walked fully in, he turned around, giving a wave to the small group on the outer edges, before turning around, the trace of a smile on his lips, though it turned into a grimace as they walked further into the darkness, Shroud tightly gripping his hand. This was going to be one hell of a ride, Tommy could say that in full certainty.

Chapter Text

It became apparent fairly quickly that they had no plan.

Despite being taught a lot about how the world worked outside of the facility, none of them had any real experience with it, or, at least, none that they remembered. Tommy was taken when he was eight, Purpled when he was nine, Drista when she was two, and Shroud had been born there. None of them were nearly old enough to have taken care of themself, and even Purpled, who was left alone by his older brother most of the time, always had food in the fridge and money he could spend if he needed it.

Now, they would need to figure out how to do things by themselves, while also trying to help the other three people. And Tommy would be the first to admit that they were not prepared.

On the first day, they got up (Shroud ended up falling out of the tree he was sleeping in, and Tommy, in wolf form, refused to let go of Purpled for a while, intead trying to smother the older) and made a plan based on the limited knowledge they knew about the outside world.

They'd have to find a way to get some form of IDs first. Tommy and Purpled were both fairly sure that they had been pronounced as dead a long time ago, and Shroud never had a file made. They couldn't exactly have any jobs before that, so they'd have to do that first.

Technically, Tommy and Purpled would be the main ones getting jobs. Drista was sixteen, so while Tommy was kind of sure she could get a small job, he wasn't sure, and didn't feel like lying about her age. Shroud was way too young, and Tommy wasn't putting him out there to work, not after spending all of his childhood in a psychopathic facility as an experiment.

Another problem they encountered; they had no clue where they were. Without a map or, god forbid, a phone, they had not way of knowing where they were going at all. It was a gamble that they would end up anywhere, and the forest seemed to stretch on forever, continuing for miles on end.

Still, they pushed forward, and by the end of the third day, they found a chain fence that showed they were no longer in the facility's land. He wondered why they bought so much, if they had other sections that were underground or other buildings, but shook his head at the thought. He could have probably made it there in a day with his powers, but they had been going a lot slower to make sure that Shroud could keep up with them.

Touching the fence proved that it was, in fact, electrically charged, and, after a few attempted, they settled for Tommy using his powers to grow wings on his back, that of a crow that he had seen earlier in the day. It took a little while to get used to them, and the shifting in his spine to have the wings attach was weird, but he eventually managed to lift them over, one at a time.

Once that obstacle was crossed, Tommy would say there were another five or six miles before they managed to make it out of the forest, a path leading through some farming territory and off into the distance.

This was the moment that it finally settled in, that they had escaped. That after all this time, it wasn't his family, his 'heroes' (Tommy was fairly sure that was just something his young mind came up with to put his family in the frame of heroes in his mind. They were his heroes at the time, not actual ones) that saved him, it was his new family. A family not forged through blood but by bonds. By the fact that they had lived and bled and cried and suffered together. A bond created by suffering is much stronger than a bond by blood, Tommy would know.

Though that information never managed to cease the ache in his heart for a family he couldn't remember. A family whose love left a lingering warmth on his heart that made it hard to breath at times, who made it feel like after so long, that warmth was beginning to crack his fragile heart, to break it as time went on.

A lot of traveling was the same, Tommy noted. They would find some place to rest, usually by a tree that was a little away from the road. Tommy would shift into something in order to sleep, Shroud would be tangled in the branches, and the other two would either sit on the ground or rest in the branched with them.

A couple of times, people caught sight of them as they went about their days on the farms that the group of four passed. Some would wave, and someone from their group, usually Drista, would wave back, the other members feeling awkward, not knowing how to interact with someone they hadn't talked to before. A couple would come up to them, concerned as to why four kids were walking through the farmlands on their own. Every time, Purpled would sprout the same excuse to them, and they would be on their way.

("Ah, sorry for worrying you. Our parents a little further behind, we just ran ahead. They should be coming up in a few minutes, Shroud here just wanted to get there faster, so we offered to take him as a group. Dad's legs don't work the best, so Mom has to help him.")

Every time the excuse worked.

Tommy found it funny, he would admit, seeing how bad some people were at reading others. He could see the way Purpled was lying clear as day; the slightly clenched jaw, too strained smile, wince at the words 'Mom' and 'Dad'. It amazed him that others were so oblivious to it, though he guessed that it was probably because they weren't experimented on for ten years. He had to learn in order to survive, they didn't. It didn't make it any less strange though.

Sometimes, he wondered what the people thought when a few minutes turned to hours, and no parents walked over the hill. He wondered if they didn't even realize, wondered that if they did, what they thought. Did they try and come after them? Did they decide it was none of their business? He didn't know, and there...there was something terrifying in that. Knowing had been what kept him alive in the facility; knowing people, knowing things, knowing the rules. Now, he was outside for the first time, the people he knew had no effect on the outside world (yet), he had no way of knowing important information (yet), and there weren't any rules he had to know. Though, he supposed laws counted as rules, but when had he cared about those? A few days ago he had murdered several people, so  Tommy wasn't sure if he did. Though, he wouldn't kill someone if they didn't deserve it; death was limited to tortures or child predators.

Either way, that's how it went for a while.

And then they started to run out of food.

The days after they realized how small the amount of rations they had left were hard. Tommy was used to eating little, having only ate enough of the already-small portions of food they were given to survive. He gave most of his portions to Shroud, wanting the younger to not be in as much pain. Still, he could see it weighing down on everyone; they were moving slower, not getting as far in the days as they were in the beginning. So, with a sigh, he had told them that they could rest or continue, but he was going to go to the nearest town and buy some food for them with the amount of money they had, and the others had, albeit reluctantly, agreed, deciding that they would continue to try and get further on.

And so Tommy was grabbed the money they had, shifted into the form of blue jay, and flown off, ignoring the aching of his limbs as he soared across the sky.

He had to admit, they had more money than he thought they would have. The adults who had stayed at camp had insisted on giving them a larger portion of money, saying that they were the ones who got them out, so they deserved it. At first, Tommy had been hesitant, but now, he couldn't be more grateful.

He also never realized how much the limit of what would shift with him was a factor in a day to day life. The facility had tested it, once, what the requirements were for and object to shift with him. Based on what he had heard, the object had to weigh less than five pounds and had to be touching his skin, which was why the collar didn't shift with him, as it weighed roughly eight.

The collar was another problem. They had yet to find a way to get it off, as it was pretty much fused with the skin of his neck. After so long of it burning his neck, nearly ten years, to pry it off would take the entire top layer of skin off his neck, and would likely leave a really nasty scar. Even with Drista's healing power, it would probably take several hours, maybe even days for it to heal full, so he wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew it would have to be done eventually. For now, he had taken a green cloth that they had managed to find in the wreckage and tie it around his neck. It barely covered the collar, despite how thin the collar was, and had blood stains on the inside, a few bits peaking through, but he dealt with it, preferring that over the questions that would inevitably come.

It took a few hours to reach the next town by flying; five or six, Tommy would say. When he got there, he had flown around a bit, trying to gauge where to go, though he ended up settling for a kind of sketchy looking convenience store on the edge of town. The least likely to ask questions about what he was doing, or at least, Tommy hoped.

He had flown a bit away from the town, not wanting to be caught by any cameras, and walked to the edge of town, slipping in silently. Even as the bell rang, the guy manning it had not acknowledged him beside a grunt.

Carefully, he went through the items, trying to guess what would be best to spend the money he had. He didn't want to use all of it -he'd have to save some for later possible emergencies- but he'd also have to get enough to satiate them until they found a proper town or, preferably, city for them to live in. Towns might have less people, but in a city, you see someone once, and then you never see them again. They didn't want to get recognized, and there were so many people there, it would be child's play to slip away in a crowd.

After about ten minutes, he managed to get ten or so different items that he hoped were good enough, and silently walked up to the cash register, setting the items down and watching as the bulky guy that sat there rolled his eyes before slowly checking Tommy's items out. It was a tedious process, and Tommy half-thought the guy was trying to annoy him, but he didn't say anything about it, knowing better than to disrespect someone who was stronger than him. He didn't want to cause a commotion in town, he didn't want to get sent to prison or some shit, not so soon after getting out.

When the man called out his total, Tommy obediently handed him the money. As soon as he got his change, Tommy stuffed the items into the bag he had brought, bowed his head at the guy in a thank you, before slipping out of the shop.

Out front, there was a group of around five people, but he paid them no mind, instead deciding to just shift behind the shop for simplicity. He didn't have the energy to go out of town to shift again.

After a moment, it became clear that they were following him, and he quickly slipped around the corner, slipping the bag into his hands, before he pulled the sleeve of his right arm up, reaching a hand inside. He hoped he was touching all of the items, and shifted, feeling his body morph back into the form of a blue jay.

Immediately, he flew off, hearing the group's murmurs of confusion behind him. He ignored them, of course, but he heard them nonetheless.

It took about three hours to get back to the group, all of whom were looking rather exhausted after making the journey, but were happy when he came back nonetheless. Tommy took a little of the food, but most of it was going to the other three. Between the four of them, they at a little of their previous rations plus a little bit of the new food that day, as they hadn't eaten lunch.

And so that was how it continue for a while. They would go as far as they could that day, snacking for lunch and pausing for the night. Sometimes, they would pass through a town, and would buy small portions of food there, but otherwise, Tommy would go ahead in animal form to try and find a town where he would buy a couple of snacks from the shoddier places, and bring it back to them.

At some point, they were getting low on money, and Tommy started taking up a new skill in pick pocketing. The others knew, and didn't particularly care, mostly because it left them alive. He'd only take it from those who already looked well off, and only when they were about to run out, but he admitted that it was...surprisingly easy to do so. He'd have thought it was harder, but people were so...easy. Slipping a hand into someone's open purse, or accidentally running into someone and knocking them over made it easy to reach into a pocket to grab a wallet. He always left the wallet on the ground; devoid of any money, but still holding everything else. At that point, if the person realized that their wallet was gone and came looking, it wasn't his fault if anyone else took it. As far as they knew, they had just dropped it when they were knocked over.

He wasn't...Tommy wasn't good at it by any means. He couldn't flawlessly take off someone's purse, or reach into a pocket while walking around, but...but it was easily for him to find the easiest people, the most oblivious people in a crowd that still looked well off, and go from there. he felt bad about it every time, but he didn't really have another choice.

On the tenth day of their journey was when something major changed. They had been traveling, Tommy with the group this time, when they saw it. Large, tall buildings in the distance, shining with the morning sun. They had frozen, but reluctantly continue walking, until Purpled saw the sign in the distance, pointing it out to everyone.

L'Manburg - 2.8 Miles

Tommy didn't know a lot of places in the outside world. He knew about heroes, about the major ones and how to beat them. He knew about how the world worked, about certain laws that existed, but he didn't know a lot of places. But he knew L'Manburg.

It was one of the largest cities in the modern world, while also having a rather high crime rate compared to other places. Heroes lived there, though they mostly took care of the upper parts of town, not often going into the lower parts. But with the high crime rates, it would be a perfect place to blend in; to not raises suspicion about their scars, about their past.

That day, they sat near the sign, as there weren't many trees in sight, celebrating the fact that they had managed to make it to a place that was perfect for them. It wasn't their intention, but it worked out in the end.

That night, Tommy fell asleep peacefully, with the knowledge that they would be able to started a new chapter in their life the very next day. Nothing would go wrong.

Right?

Chapter Text

Ultimately, they had decided to go around the city first and enter on the other side. Tommy had seen the occasional maps about the city; the teachers would let them see while preaching about how much of a dystopia it was. He had thought it was ironic every time; a group saying something was a dystopia in a facility where they experimented on kids.

Still, he knew enough, and judging on what they saw, they had approached the nicer, richer side of town. That was the place that had the actual heroes; the place that the heroes cared about. They would stand out much more there, and they didn't want that.

So, they worked their way around it, heading to the opposite side in the hopes that it would be the poorer side, where crime was high enough that no one would notice or think twice about a few dollars going missing. No one would spare them a glance there, or at least, he hoped.

His assumption was correct, and he grinned as he looked over the run down buildings that were around the area. A few people walked through the streets, grimaces and sneer on their faces. it wasn't...it wasn't going to be the most pleasant place to live, but Tommy had a feeling that anything was better than the facility.

By this point, they only had a little money left, twenty three dollars to be exact, and after a little debating, decided to try and find somewhere private to make a game plan. After a little bit of searching, they managed to find a run-down old playground, the structures rusting and breaking with time.

Once they had warned Shroud to be careful, they let him play a little bit, while the other three sat down together.

"So," Tommy was the first to speak, looking up at the dimming sky, "what do we do first? We don't have much money; definitely not enough to get some place to stay."

Drista nodded, "yeah. I think IDs are the most important thing; then we can get jobs and work for an apartment or some shit."

"You mean we can get jobs," Purpled clarified, gesturing to himself and Tommy, "I don't think that you're old enough to get one."

She pouted, "yes I am! I read it in one of the books we got!"

Tommy tilted his head forward and gave her a skeptical look, "really? Because I was fairly sure children weren't allowed to get jobs."

"Hey!" she squawked at him, and Tommy snickered, "if anyone here's a child, it's you bitch boy!"

Tommy froze, before growling at Drista, "Fuck you! I'm not a fucking bitch boy!"

He very quickly, slid over, laughing as Drista tried to scramble up, but he managed to tackle her first, sending them both tumbling to the ground. They tussled for a bit, before eventually landing a little away from each other, Drista having thrown Tommy off.

Just as Tommy was about to tackle her again, he heard the faint sounds of Purpled snickering at them. Quickly, he made eye contact with Drista, before tilting his head in Purpled's direction, watching as a grin spread across her face.

As one, they jumped over to Purpled, laughing at the startled yelp that he let out. He was tackled to the floor, below two bodies, only wince when a third joined them, Shroud saying that he wanted to join the group hug.

Soon enough, they all got off each other, laughing and just laying down in the grass as they talked.

For the first time in a while, they were allowed to be kids; allowed to have the childhood that had been stripped away from them all too soon.

Chapter Text

They hadn't managed to find a building to stay in that night, instead staying around the park. Tommy didn't sleep that night, feeling nightmares and memories creep along his spine, trying to lull him to sleep where he would suffer torturous nightmare. He shivered at the thought.

Instead, he watched the other three fall asleep, and when they did, he slipped out of the tree that they had decided to sleep in for the night, wandering around the town. It wasn't exactly peaceful, not with the feeling of eyes watching his every sudden movement, and the fact that he had left his friends alone made his skin prickle, but he had a couple of things that he needed to worry about.

He needed to find a way for them to get fake certificates so they could work. He also needed to find some clothes for them to wear, as wearing something that looked like the white version of a prison jumpsuit would probably raise some suspicion. He wasn't....wasn't exactly sure what he thought was going to happen when he wandered, but did so nonetheless, praying to find what they needed.

It happened when Tommy was walking through an alley, narrow and dark. All he had wanted was to get to another street, but someone reached for his shoulder behind him, yanking him back, and managing to surprise him in his half aware state. Instinctively, he whirled around, trying to fight off the attacker, only for a hand to reach around his neck, strangling him and forcing him to stay still.

Tommy wasn't sure how long it was like that, a hand gripped around his throat tightly, but he did know that it was short enough that he didn't feel like passing out. So, less than two minutes.

Still, after a little bit, another figure came forward, moving fast enough that Tommy couldn't see anything beyond a green blur. The thing whipped past him, knocking the attacker off, and Tommy stumbled backwards, coughing as he tried to breath, before looking forward with wide eyes.

Fighting off the man who had attacked Tommy was...a person? Tommy thought so at least, but he had never seen a person with goopy green patches of skin before. Tommy assumed it was the person's power.

Backing up a little more, he tripped on a stray pipe below him, falling back onto the ground with a clatter. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, thumping as the fight continued on before him.

When it ended, after a few minutes of him just sitting there, the one who had attacked Tommy was sprawled out on the floor, and the green goopy person turned around to look at Tommy, who quickly scrambled up, holding the pipe defensively.

Green guy put his hands up, "woah there kid, I'm not going to do anything to you."

Tommy took a skeptical step back, "you sure? Cause you just beat a guy up in front of me."

"To be fair, that guy was strangling you," he pointed out, and Tommy had to, begrudgingly of course, admit that that was true. He would probably have been dead if the guy didn't step in.

Tommy didn't move, and the guy carefully started to move forward, "look kid, I just wanna help you get home, alright? If you don't have one, my boss may be able to help you.

Just as Tommy was about to respond, and the guy was just a few feet away from him, vague movement behind the guy caught his eye, and he tensed for a moment, before making eye contact with the goopy guy.

'Duck' he mouthed, waiting for a few moments, before moving forward, watching as the guy ducked, though he looked confused. Tommy, without hesitation, jumped onto the guy's back, pushing off of it and, if the grunt behind him was anything to go off of, pushing him to the floor. The pipe he was holding onto wash swung forward, bashing the guy that had attempted to sneak up on them in the head. When Tommy landed safely on the ground, he risked a glance to the passed out man, not even wincing as he saw blood beginning to seep out of the hit he had caused with the pipe. It was a head wound, it would bleed a lot either way.

Using the pipe as a crutch, he turned around, seeing the slime guy stare at him with a seemingly surprised look on his face, and Tommy got a good look at him.

He wasn't entirely slime, just a few small spots on him and, most notably, leaking from below the mask he worse. Said mask wasn't very intricate, just green with three black dots on it, probably supposed to be two eyes and a mouth of some sort. He had a white shirt on, with green overalls on top of it. The white shirt seemed to be a dress shirt, and he also wore dress pants, despite the fact that they were green. Around his neck, there was a green scarf, looking pristine and new. He didn't have anything covering his hair, and Tommy could see that it was curly brown hair, flopping over the mask. His eyes weren't visible, and Tommy idly wondered if they were green, just like the slime.

"Uh," the guy cleared his throat, and Tommy brought the pipe back up to his chest, preparing to swing it forward if need be, "thanks?"

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "you can thank me by telling me who the fuck you are, slimy bitch."

"Hey!" he squawked, getting onto his feet, and Tommy unconsciously tensed, "I'm not a slimy bitch!"

"Then tell me who you are, dumbass," Tommy rolled his eyes, but the pipe stayed up.

He cleared his throat, before extending a hand forward, "I'm called Slimecicle by everyone out here. I'm a vigilante. Now, who are you?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, before snapping it shut, staring at the gu-Slimecicle for a moment. He knew nothing about the 'vigilante', and telling him his name was probably a bad idea. Just maybe.

But, he needed to say something, and he looked through his head, trying to think of anything beyond his name or that god-awful identification code that was still burned into his cheek. He was lucky it was dark -Slimecicle probably couldn't see it because it was so close to his skin tone.

After a few moments, the stories of Greek mythology that Techno used to read him came to mind. He didn't remember much, just a handful or two of stories, but he remembered his favorite. He remembered that he would beg and beg Techno to read him it, and he always would, despite how much their Dad always sighed in exasperation every time that he saw Techno reading it to him.

"Theseus," he settled on, "you can call me Theseus."

Slimecicle tilted his head, "alright Theseus," Tommy ignored the way that a feeling of wrongwrongwrong settled in his bones, "care to tell me why you're out tonight? And, actually, why you didn't know who I am? Most people around here do."

"May I ask why you give a fuck? The reason I'm out here is none of your business. And I'm new here- my friends and I just recently came into town," he growled, turning away.

Slimecicle tilted his head, "I guess that makes sense. And it's my business because it's my job."

It was silent for a moment, before Slimecicle sighed, running a hand through his hair, "listen, I owe you one now. You stopped me from getting ambushed by that guy back there. What can I help you with?"

Tommy didn't say anything, resisting the urge to ask the guy about their numerous problems. When he didn't respond, Slimecicle sighed.

"C'mon kid, I need something. If you won't work with me, I can take you to my boss if you want? He'd be happy to help you, got a soft spot for kids, and has ties in the underground. Hell, I think he'd probably be willing to house you as long as you did some work for him like I do," he tried again, and Tommy paused, meeting the guy's eyes for a moment.

It could be useful, and he had nothing better to do. The worst that could happen was him getting captured or killed, and, quite honestly, as long as his friend were alright, he didn't particularly care what happened to him.

"Alright," he said quietly, quite out of character. After a moment, he took a deep breath in, before speaking again, "alright. Let's go meet your boss."

As Slimecicle led Tommy away he hoped that he made the right choice. Prime, Purpled was going to kill him when he got back.

And that night, Theseus was born. He had no achievements yet, but soon, almost everyone would know that name, know it as a warning. Even himself. For Theseus tries to reach too far, and ends up being stabbed in the back, as he lets his guard down. For he attempts to be a hero, a god, but he is nothing more than a mortal attempting to rise higher than he should. He is well aware of the risks then, but for now, he sits in silence, waiting for a moment to emerge.

Chapter Text

The place that he was lead was...a nice building, he had to admit. Tall, and an off white color. People walked in and out of the doors, and loud music played from the inside, with lights flashing through the windows. He winced, slipping closer to Slimecicle unknowingly.

Rather than taking him through the front doors, he instead walked around the back of the buildings, Tommy following him, not as hesitantly this time. He just wanted to get away from the bright lights and loud people.

After a minute or so, they were standing at the back of the building. There was nothing back there, and he sent a look to Slimecicle, "are you trying to get me to cash in a favor, or murder me behind a party house?"

"I'm taking you to my boss Theseus, and it's not a party house. It's a casino."

He nodded. Tommy totally knew what a casino was. Definitely.

Cautiously, he looked up, "and how do you plan on taking me to your boss? 'Cause all I see is a fucking wall. I hope you're not about to pull some bullshit to make me run into the wall."

"Nope! Though that would be funny. Here," quickly, he moved a little bit away from where they stood. He reached for the wall, and Tommy was about to open his mouth about how stupid this was, only for his hand to go straight through. He gestured for Tommy to follow him, "c'mon Theseus, never seen an illusion power before?"

Quickly, he walked through and Tommy, albeit hesitantly, followed. Silently, he reached out a hand to touch the illusion, but as soon as it made contact, the fake wall dissipated, fading into nothingness in front of him. He blinked at it in astonishment.

Suddenly, Slimecicle appeared next to him, "only downside is that once the illusion is broken, you don't see it anymore. No one's allowed back here though, so it's usually fine."

Tommy let out a startled curse, jumping away from Slimecicle, "wha-what the hell man! Don't do that!"

"Sorry," he shrugged, "but come on, I wanna introduce you to Quackity."

He quickly started moving again, and Tommy followed him, though he first adjusted his already-long hair to curl around his cheek, covering the identification code there. He didn't want whoever was in there to know about that. He looked around in slight awe. The inside of the hidden place was actually white, with dark red carpet. There were a couple of people moving around, most of which eyed them wearily, but none of whom made any move to stop them. It was...fancy, he could say that without a doubt. 

"Quackity?" he questioned, after a moment, "who's Quackity?"

"My boss," Slimecicle shrugged, "he might intimidate you, but don't show it. He'll be more impressed if you manage to hide it."

Intimidating, sure. When he's gone through ten years of torture then I'll call him intimidating, he thought begrudgingly.

They ended up standing in front of a large wooden door, a bit of red and gold trim around the edges. It was large, but Tommy had seen larger. Still, he let Slimecicle lead the way in, huddling behind the shorter man.

He leaned his head down, focusing on the carpet there, though his ears were still perked to listen to their conversation.

"Hello Quackity from Las Nevadas!"

"Slime, how are you? And who's your...friend?"

"I'm good Quackity, this," he nudged Tommy, "is 'Theseus'."

Slimecicle shoved him forward, and Tommy risked a glance up, trying to see who 'Quackity' was.

Black hair, with a blue beanie on top of it was the first thing that he noticed. The next was the massive scar that went through his left eye, reaching just below his mouth, where Tommy could get the barest hints of a golden tooth replacing the lost ones. He wore overalls on top of a white shirt too, just like Slimecicle, but the overalls were blue instead of green. A red tie draped down from the collar of the shirt, and Tommy thought he could see a bit of blood staining it, but he made no move to point it out.Just above the tie, he had a blue scarf, matching the one that Slimecicle wore.

Just as quickly as his eyes had looked up, they were at the ground again. Quackity seemed...professional. Like a higher up. Tommy didn't want to offend him, didn't want to be stuck with something like last time. He shivered at the memories of the facility.

"And why did you bring him here Slime?" Quackity questioned coolly, not missing a beat.

Slimecicle shifted, "he stopped me from getting hit by a dude with a knife and, what looked to be at least two guns, so I'd say he did a fairly good job at saving me. I was in his debt, and said you might be able to help him since you're...uh, pretty connected."

"Fair enough, I suppose," he hummed, "alright, Slime, you can go back on your patrol. I'll talk it out with Theseus here."

Slimecicle left the room, and Tommy tilted his head up, just barely enough so he could see Quackity. The man flipped a token in his hand, tilting his head back and looking rather bored, though he gestured to the chair across from his desk, "sit down kid, I have a feeling we have a bit to discuss."

Silently, he sat down, unconsciously adjusting his hair again to make sure it was still covering his cheek. After a moment of awkward silence, he heard Quackity clear his throat, and Tommy tilted his head to see the man's face.

"Well," he started, looking away from Tommy, "I do have to thank you for helping Slime. He's...he's a good friend of mine. With that said, what would you like in exchange? Money? A favor? Name your price kid."

Tommy paused, scanning over the man. Something about his demeanor felt...familiar. Like he had seen it before; the deflecting, the avoidance to make eye contact, the flinching, he knew it from somewhere. He wasn't sure where but...he knew there was something there. Something too familiar.

Either way, he cleared his throat before answering, "S...Slimecicle said that you might...be able to offer housing for a job?"

Quackity blinked; that had clearly not been the answer he was expecting, "I...suppose I would be able to. I've been meaning to hire some new recruits anyway."

"How...if I had a small group of friends that would be willing to work for you in the same situation as me...would you be willing to let them too?" he questioned. Tommy needed to test the limits of what was and wasn't allowed before he accepted the terms. And If the others couldn't come, than Tommy wasn't going to accept, no way.

Quackity narrowed his eyes at the words, leaning forward skeptically, "what type of friends? Why do they need the job?"

"The same reason I do," he responded quietly. After a moment, and a raised eyebrow from Quackity, he sighed, and continued, "we just...just got out of a very bad situation," his eyes looked down at the scarf for a moment before they looked back at Quackity, "we were wondering for a while. We don't...don't have anywhere to stay really."

And no knowledge of how society works anymore, he wanted to add, but refrained himself from doing so.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Quackity sighed, running a hand down his scarred face, "fine kid. Take this, and bring them here tomorrow at twelve pm sharp."

He flung the coin he had been flipping at Tommy, who scrambled to catch it. It was a token, with a squared off smiley face in the canter. After a second of looking at it, he sent a look at Quackity, who sighed.

"If you have that on you, anyone who sees it here will know not to fuck with you until you and your friends build up a reputation. It'll let you get through the building without much hassle," he stood up abruptly, and Tommy flinched back slightly at the sudden movement, "when you get here, use the same entrance that you did today. Come here, and we'll have everything sorted out for you."

He stepped towards a door that Tommy hadn't seen before, swinging it open, before pausing, turning back around to peer at Tommy, "and a warning; don't go looking into things that don't concern you. Icarus always falls after all."

With that cryptic warning, Quackity left, stepping through the door, which swung shut loudly behind him, causing Tommy to flinch. After a moment, he stood up silently, pushing his way out of the door without looking back. He had to get back before Drista or Purpled started to worry too much. Fuck, he should have left a note.

Just as he was about to leave, a hand one his shoulder stopped him, causing him to unconsciously tense up. Carefully, he turned around, relaxing the slightest bit when he noticed that it was Slimecicle.

The man in question smiled at him, before letting go of his shoulder. Tommy took an unconscious step back and Slimecicle reached around his neck, pulling off the green scarf that matched Quackity's own. After a moment, he handed it to Tommy, who hesitated for a moment before taking at it, a look of shock on his face.

"Yours is falling apart," Slimecicle noted, "and I don't need mine."

Tommy snapped his head up, eyes still wide, "bu-I can't take this!"

Slimecicle shook his head, "you can, and you will. I'm not arguing Tommy from L'Manburg."

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded numbly, stepping outside of the area. Once he was far enough away, he swapped out the rough cloth he had found with the soft scarf. And so he walked back to his friends family, with new promises and new offers.

He only realized once he was nearly at the park that Slimecicle had called him by his real name when he should know nothing about that since Tommy hadn't told him. He ended up deciding to panic about that later.

Chapter Text

The streets were barren as Tommy walked along them, staring at the approaching form of the park. Occasionally, his eyes would glance at the rising sun behind him, and he'd wince, knowing that Purpled and Drista would likely be furious with him. They were always early riser; the facility had conditioned them to be, so Tommy had very little hope that they weren't up yet.

His thoughts proved to be correct when he arrived back at the park, only to be met with the worried face of Purpled. He blinked in surprise for a moment; he had been expecting Drista to be awake too, or, at least, for Purpled to wake her up. Unless she had gone out looking for him, she was probably still asleep.

Quickly, he strode towards Purpled, unconsciously tugging on the familiar presence that was lingering in the edge of his head. He felt it immediately give in, and he wilted in relief of the familiarity of it, before tensing up at the anger that came with it.

Tommy! Where the fuck are you?! You just LEFT!

He paused about thirty feet from Purpled, yeah, that's my bad. But I mean...I'm here now?

Here now, wha-

Suddenly, Purpled turned around, looking Tommy directly in the eye. The younger flinched for a moment at the expression on his face, before giving a tiny wave and taking a step forward, "Heeeeyyyy Purps."

"Oh you do not get to 'heeeeyyyy' me Toms. You just fucking disappeared!" he growled, stalking forward.

Tommy rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, "yeah, that was, uh, kind of not poggers of me."

"No fucking kidding," he hissed, before pulling Tommy into a tight hug, arms wrapped around his neck, "I thought you were gone Toms. I thought that they found you again."

Tommy murmured reassurances into his ear that he was okay, that nothing happened while he was out, "I'm okay Purpled, I'm good. Nothing happened, okay? I'm alright."

After a few minutes, Tommy managed to calm Purpled down. The older was still mad at him, but more overwhelmed with relief than anything else at this point. They sat below the tree that Drista and Shroud were still sitting in, chatting quietly.

"So," Purpled started, "what did you even do while you were out? Take a walk for...six hours?"

Tommy laughed nervously, "I, uh, should probably wait to tell you that until after the others wake up. And after Drista strangles me."

"Why would I need to strangle you?" there was shuffling in the tree, and Tommy sent a nervous look upwards, seeing Drista shuffle around, likely having just awoke. Fuck, Tommy was screwed.

Chapter Text

"So, we have jobs now?"

Tommy nodded meekly, not looking up from where his head was positioned to look at the floor, "yeah. We're gonna need to probably get going...about now, actually. He said meet them at 12 pm sharp, so..."

Purpled sighed, "you know, as much as I want to say that maybe we shouldn't go and take jobs with the maybe-mafia boss, I don't think we have much of a choice. So, let's go do this and hope we aren't getting involved with the mafia."

"Fuck yeah!" Drista jumped up, before wincing at the tightness of the clothes she was wearing, "Jesus fuck, they couldn't have made this a little looser?"

Tommy shrugged, "I wouldn't be surprised to learn they were secretly trying to kill us by strangulation."

"Fair enough," Drista shrugged, before sending a glance at the sleeping Shroud, "so, who's carrying him?"

For a moment they paused, before Tommy and Drista both pointed to Purpled, who sighed in defeat. He held both of his hands up, before reaching down and scooping Shroud into his arms, before sending them both a pointed glare.

Tommy held up his hands in a placating manner, "in my defense, it would be hard to see around a thirteen-year-old as I'm trying to lead you to this guy's place."

"Fair enough, I guess," he shrugged.

After a moment, Tommy cleared his throat, giving them all a grin, "alright, lets do this shit! Onward, to the maybe-mafia boss."

And so they set off, walking to the other side of the bad end of town where the casino was. Tommy would guess that it was roughly an hour or two away, maybe three if he was pushing it. Still, he stopped about ten minutes before they reached it, pausing for a moment to consult his friends.

"Uh," he paused, wondering how to phrase it, before continuing, "you guys might wanna come up with fake names. Right now, as far as any of them know, my name is Theseus."

He might have neglected to tell them that Slimecicle somehow knew his first name and, he assumed that was what Slimecicle meant, where he was born. He didn't...particularly feel like disclosing that information to them. They'd just freak out.

Purpled blinked, before tilting his head, considering, "fair enough. I'm not...I have one name, but..."

He turned his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Tommy wished that Purpled hadn't buried the antennae he had under his hair; Tommy enjoyed being able to read the mind reader so freely, "it's a very....personal name."

"I don't have any ideas," Drista shrugged, "so oh wise name master, what do you bestow upon us?"

Tommy laughed for a moment, before taking a closer look at his friends. They each had such different personalities, yet complimented each other so well. He was sure that for most other groups they would have never been able to get along, but something about them just...clicked. It just worked. Each personality was easy, yet so hard, for him to describe, and a couple of names came to mind immediately.

After a moment, he opened his mouth again. First, he gestured to Purpled, "Orpheus."

Then, to Drista, "Atalanta."

Finally, to Shroud, "Prometheus."

It was quiet for a moment, before Purpled tilted his head, "care to explain those choices?"

"T...my brother," Tommy couldn't bring himself to say his brother's name out loud. Not after so long, "use to read me Greek Mythology as bedtimes stories. Rather gruesome for an eight-year-old, but I loved them anyways. I still remember some of them."

He traced the wall of the alley they were in, "Orpheus was a Greek hero. He managed to persuade Hades to let him take his dead wife back to the real world. Hades agreed, but only after Orpheus played him some of his music. He wasn't allowed to look at her until they were completely out, but he did, and she disappeared forever. You reminded me of the first half; of the fact that Orpheus used his words to convince rather than his sword."

"Atalanta," he hesitated for a moment, "was a great huntress. She was abandoned by her father at a young age, and order to be left for dead, but managed to survive with the help of a bear. She thrived, before deciding that anyone who could beat her in a race would win her hand in marriage. Every time that someone overtook her, she would spear them. One person managed to trick her, dropping three golden apples to which she picked up, only for her to lose the race. At some point she and her husband got a little," he coughed, "passionate in the shrine to a god and were promptly turn to lions. You remind me of the fact that she refused to be pushed down. No matter what people did to her, she kept fighting. That...that reminds me of you."

He paused for a moment, "Prometheus is a little more well known. He was the god that stole the fire and brought it to the humans so we could live. Shroud...when I met him, I was so close to giving up. A part of me wanted to die at that point; hell, I might have attempted it. But then Shroud came, and he made me realize that not all people are bad. That we would get a chance to escape, no matter how long it took. He reminded me that we were more than just some fucking experiments, that we were human, and the only ones who didn't see us as such were the fucking monsters that we already dealt with. Shroud...Shroud is my Prometheus, I suppose. He gave me the fire to reignite my soul."

It was silent for a moment, and Tommy continued to walk, knowing full well that they were still behind him.

After a moment, he heard Drista awing, "Aw, you love us!"

He felt his face heat up, and buried it in his hands, "no I don't! Fuck you!"

"Yes you do~" she said in a sing-song voice, and he sent her a glare, before looking away, catching a glimpse of the casino a few blocks away.

Carefully, he pulled the scarf up, just above his nose. He hoped that it covered the scar. After a moment of adjusting it, he looked back, "does it cover my, uh...brand?"

Purpled nodded, closing his eyes, "yeah. It's annoying you have to do that Toms."

"Not my fault they decided to make my mark more visible than yours," he took a brief glance at Purpled's neck, Drista's knee, and Shroud's left hand.  He took a deep breath in, "fine," he paused for a moment, looking up, "this is the place. You ready to go in?"

They nodded, or at least he assumed they did from the movement in his peripheral vision. After a moment of hesitance he walked around the building, moving with a stiffness in his chest. It was...stressful, he had to say.

When they reached the back, Tommy ignored their confusion, going straight up to the wall, and pressing a hand to it. Immediately, it faded, and Tommy slipped through it, pausing for a few moments as he waited for them to follow. Quietly, he grabbed the token Quackity had given him, fiddling with it in his hands. 

Tommy smiled at them when they stopped behind him, mouths slightly agape as they took in the area, "impressive, innit?"

"Prime," Purpled murmured, "how do you get yourself in these places Toms?"

"No clue," he shrugged, before gesturing them forward.

 Silently, he worked his way through the place, ignoring the looks of skepticism that followed them. But, he kept the token visible at all times, fidgeting with it in his hands, and people left them alone. Thankfully.

When they arrived at the door, Tommy hesitated for the briefest of moments, but before he got to go, the door swung open in front of him, and Quackity could be seen on the other side, eyebrow raised.

"Well?" he questioned, and Tommy stepped inside, gesturing for his friends to do the same. When they didn't, he sighed, before putting a hand on Drista's back and giving her a shove. She stumbled forward, and he gave a raised eyebrow to Purpled, who grinned sheepishly and stepped forward. Shaking his head, Tommy stepped forward too.

He moved in front of the group, gesturing to them individually, "these are Orpheus, Atalanta, and Prometheus. My friends."

My family, he thought, but kept that to himself.

Quackity scanned over them, glancing up and down, "powers?"

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "tell us yours, and then we'll tell you ours."

It was silent for a moment, a stare down happening between the two. After a moment, Quackity sighed.

"Fine. You first," he sent them a look.

Purpled?

He's not lying.

Thanks.

"For fucks-" Tommy growled, running a hand through his hair, "fine. Orpheus."

Purpled nodded, "technically, my power is making me an alien, but I have telepathy. 's what I use most."

Quackity narrowed his eyes, but nodded, and Drista cleared her throat.

"I can heal. Time it takes depends on the injury, using it too much makes me sick, and I have to know what the wound is first," she shrugged. Quackity turned to Tommy.

After a moment, he sighed, "fine. I can shapeshift. Happy?"

"Very," Quackity grinned, "I have luck. Anything that depends on luck is pushed in my favor. It's why I own the casino."

After a moment, he spoke again, "now, if you're going to work for me, I think that I'm going to need to know your real names. Fair is fair."

It was quiet, and Tommy sent him a glare, before shifting, "just me. They're here because I made this deal, you get to know my name."

Purpled and Drista started to protest, but Tommy sent them a glare, "no, he's right. Fair is fair."

"So," he turned to Quackity, "what'll it be?"

After a few tense moment, Quackity sighed, "I tell you more about me, you tell me your real name and a little about you. Deal?"

"Fine," Tommy spat.

"Those three," he gestured to Purpled, Drista, and Shroud, "have to leave. I'm only sharing my personal info with him."

Begrudgingly, they moved out, and Tommy sat across from Quackity, looking into his eyes. After a moment, Quackity clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow, "well?"

Tommy sighed, before extending his hand, "my name is Tommy. I don't....I don't think I have a last name. Not anymore."

"Fair enough," Quackity murmured, "where did you come from? You said unfortunate circumstances, but I'm curious as to what exactly."

Tommy tensed, "I don't...how do I know that you're trustworthy? It's very...personal."

Quackity tilted his head, "fair enough. Anything else I should know?"

"I..." he paused, closing his eyes, "don't...don't forcefully separate me from my friends. It...brings back bad memories."

"Got it," Quackity nodded, "now, let's discuss possible opportunities for you. You can work in the casino, deal with the people there, if you'd like. However, I have a different opportunity if you would like it."

Tommy hummed in curiosity, "what kind of opportunity?"

"How do you feel about committing minor crimes?"

Tommy grinned widely, "oh, I am so in already."

Quackity smiled, "good to hear. As you can tell from Slimecicle, I employ vigilantes. I give the gear, and pay you, and you can go out and help people."

"However," he leaned back, "I have contractors. If I give you an instruction, like 'don't attack people with this symbol' or 'stay out of the east side of town', you fucking listen. I'm not breaking my deals."

Tommy paused, considering. He wanted to help people, and judging by the state of this side of the city, the heroes clearly weren't doing a very good job of it. He could help people, could make a difference. His friends could help, they could have a purpose.

He took a deep breath in, "how...on a scale of one to ten, how bad of things are these people doing?"

Quackity shrugged, "maybe a five or a six. Don't know too much, and frankly, don't fucking care."

"I should say something first though," he narrowed his eyes, "there are a few exceptions to the rule. Any of em turn to some shit like raping or child kidnapping, you deal with them and tell me, got it? I'm not having deals with people like that."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tommy nodded his head, "that...that works for me. Vigilantism sounds amazing, actually."

"Glad you agree," Quackity murmured, "go outside. Slime should meet you there. He'll take you to your quarters. Before you ask, all four of you are rooming together. Different bedrooms, but they're all connected. Enjoy, I guess. I'll...I'll call you down later so we can go over some designs for your vigilante stuff. Tell your friends too, make sure that they're okay with this."

Tommy nodded, "got it."

He stood up, before hesitating. After a moment, he stuck out his hand, watching as Quackity's hand grabbed his own scarred one, "it's a pleasure doing business with you."

"Agreed," the man hummed, before gesturing to the door. Hesitantly, Tommy moved toward it, breathing a sigh of relief. Yeah, they'd be alright.

Chapter Text

The living quarters were nice, Tommy had to admit. Much nicer than anything they had in the facility, for how futuristic and modern it was. The beds were soft, and he felt as though he would melt into it. The kitchen, they had found, had a large amount of food in it. Well, a large amount of food to them. they assumed that four people eating together for anyone else would require a lot more food, but Tommy would guess that it could last them...two or three weeks, based on how little they ate. Tommy probably wouldn't put much effort into changing how much he ate, it wasn't worth it. He was fine. Mostly.

The bathrooms were quite nice, and there was a small couch and table that Tommy was almost afraid to eat at, not wanting to stain it, but reluctantly did so, if only so that Shroud could have something more comfortable to eat on.

Still, when night came, he had trouble sleeping. For as nice as the rooms were, a part of his mind thought it was a trap, attempting to lull him into a false sense of security. Thought that his friends would get hurt in the night, would get taken from him.

So, after a few hours of attempting to sleep, he got off of the bed, still dressed in the still-warm clothes that were given to them. He was grateful; the facility uniforms were a bad reminder and quite uncomfortable. They'd need to get his collar off soon, but Tommy was still nervous about that. Nervous about how it would feel. Nervous about what it would look like. He already knew it was going to scar, that much was obvious, but he couldn't deny how nervous he was for it to happen.

The kitchen was cold and empty when he walked in, quietly slipping onto one of the stools and sitting down. The cool counter against his cheek made him a little more comfortable; it was what he was used to sleeping on. The bed felt too soft, and made his skin crawl when he went in it.

it was silent, and he very slowly began to drift off, nearing the edge of sleep, before light footsteps broke him out of it. Quickly, he turned around, eyes wide, only to come face to face with Purpled, who stared at him with an undecipherable emotion on his face.

Tommy wilted in relief, "sorry Purps. You startled me."

"Yeah," he murmured, coming to sit next to Tommy, "startled you as you were almost falling asleep on the kitchen counter tops."

In stead of an answer, he gave Purpled a shaky smile, before looking outside the window in the kitchen. They were on one of the higher levels of the casino, though not the highest, and had a fairly good view of the sky and the city below. His eyes traced the stars, and he began to speak quietly after a few minutes of silence.

"Is..is it bad that in some awful, twisted way, I miss the facility," he murmured, closing his eyes, "I'm...I'm not used to getting things just because I asked, let alone because someone decided to. I'm...I'm not used to there being no rules."

Tommy opened his eyes again, carefully ignoring the tears welling up in them, "I hate what they did to us. I hate what we went through. I hate that they conditioned me to feel this way. But without all that shit...I don't...I don't know how to function. I have no purpose."

It was quiet again, before he felt Purpled tug at his arm, and he was pulled into a hug. Tears fell out of both of their eyes, silently slipping onto the floor.

"I...I feel it too. I think Drista and Shroud are doing much better. They...they're much better at adapting, but I...I feel like life is changing too much. We don't know how this world works, we don't know what people want, we don't know our fucking families anymore. I hate the facility most of all for doing that. They hurt us, physically and emotionally, but I hate them the most because they took away the memories of our family. They took away the one solace we had at the beginning."

Tommy placed his head in the nook of Purpled's neck, letting out a watery laugh, "I think the only good thing to come out of it was meeting you, Drista, and Shroud. Is..is it bad to say that I don't think of my actual family as my family anymore? My memories are so faded...they're pretty much like strangers to me, just a few bits and pieces. You guys...you guys are my family now. Especially since we'll probably never see them again."

"I...they never came for us," Tommy could feel Purpled's heart rate spike slightly, and he squeezed the other's hand in reassurance, "they never came for us in ten years. I don't know what part of my thought about my brother is real and what my mind came up with back then  to make him seem amazing."

"Right?" Tommy laughed slightly, "younger me was convinced that my family was heroes. If they were really heroes, they would have come to save me."

He muttered the last part quietly, but he knew Purpled heard it anyway.

It was quiet for a moment, before-

"You're still not off the hook for leaving in the middle of the night and nearly getting murdered in an alley."

And so, in the dead of night, two boys wept. Unsure of the future, yet hating the past. All they could hope to do is forge their own path ahead.

Chapter Text

At some point, Purpled had moved them to the living room couch, which was significantly more comfortable than the kitchen counter top, Tommy had to admit. After than had both fallen asleep, they had ended up cuddled into each other, Tommy's head placed neatly on Purpled's chest with their legs and arms intertwined.

That was how Drista found them, curled up on the couch, which caused her to promptly start squealing, waking both of the sleep-deprived boys up. Tommy cursed her out some, but she did apologize, so they waved it off. She was one of them after all.

Still, he had to head to Quackity at some point, most likely today or tomorrow, and Tommy didn't know what the man would need. Probably some measurements, which meant, as much as Tommy hated it, the collar had to come off. He didn't want to deal with any questions about it, and they could cover up the scar if it was really needed.

So, they ended up on the bathroom floor, Shroud firmly told to stay out even if Tommy started screaming, with Drista and Purpled on either side of him. He had taken off the scarf Slimecicle had given him, set to the side of the bed in 'his' room so as to not leave it soaked through with blood. Drista's hands were around the collar, examining it, and he winced every time she got to close to where it would have burned him before. Old habits die hard he supposed.

After a few moments, she sighed, retracting her hands, "they didn't leave a notch or anything to undo it with. We're going to need to cut down both sides of it, and rip the two halves off."

"Really?" Tommy shivered at the thought.

She grimaced, "yeah. I don't want to either, but we need to get it off somehow. And now comes the question; which one of us to you trust more with a knife close to your throat? Cause one of us need to cut it off."

After a moment of consideration, he hesitantly nodded towards Drista, before glancing at Purpled, who raised an eyebrow at his answer.

"It'll be easier for you to focus on my thoughts if you're not worried about accidentally slicing my throat open. If it gets too close and I'm too panicked to say anything, it'll be easier for you to realize this way," he explained quietly, wringing his hands anxiously.

Purpled nodded, before wincing as Drista came back into the room, a rather large kitchen knife in her hand. She looked hesitant, and Tommy was kind of glad. He didn't know if he wanted to be friends with someone that wouldn't hesitate to bring that close to their friends neck.

She swallowed thickly, before speaking, "Purpled can you...can you hold Tommy down? Just to...to make sure he doesn't move too much."

He glanced at Tommy worriedly, but he just smiled in reassurance at the older, who cautiously moved forward. He placed a knee across Tommy's own, and grabbed both of Tommy's arms, holding them to make sure he couldn't move. After a moment, Drista moved forward, gulping.

"T..Tell me if I get to close or you need a break okay? I don't...I don't want to hurt you more than this already will," she looked slightly sick to the stomach at the thought, and Tommy grimaced, shifting slightly in Purpled's hold to get more comfortable.

He gave a shaky smile, before pausing, "can I...can I have something to bite down on?"

She nodded, grabbing a washcloth from the sink and extending it forward. Carefully, he moved his head forward, biting onto the soft fabric, before inclining his head. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

After a moment of mentally preparing himself, he shut his eyes, trying to force the memories away. He froze when metal met metal, a screeching sound echoing through the small room. That was all he could focus on, the screech of metal, close to him.

Blood dripped from the walls, from his teeth, from his hands. Mutilated corpses surrounded his wolf form, and he watched with bared fangs as Purpled and Drista stepped closer, trying to calm him down. His claws scraped against the metal floor, screeching as he walked closer.

After a few second, he squirmed, before realizing he had full control of his body, and instinctively tried to turn away from it, tried to push it away from being so close to his neck, but he couldn't, the wall behind him keeping him from moving.

A whine made its way out of his throat, and faintly, he heard someone murmuring faint apologies, but his limbs were held down tighter, and the blade started moving faster. Tommy's eyes widened, his heart racing with memories flashing through his head.

All of his limbs strapped down to a cold metal table. All air felt like it had been sucked out of the room, and he shut his eyes as tears welled in them, calculated stares on him as he was stuck on the table. A cold hand brushed against his cheek, and he cracked his eyes open, staring ahead. A tower unidentifiable forms stood over him, but he made out the toothy smile that they had, sharp and calculating, and more tears began to flow out of his eyes.

"Don't worry S-264," the figure murmured, "you'll be fine. Now stop being a baby."

When Tommy didn't stop crying, the figure sighed, taking their hand away, "too bad. Gag him, and then do your procedure. Don't kill him, and get the information that we need."

After a few moments, rough fabric was shoved harshly into his mouth, and Tommy let out a whimper, trying to spit it out only for it to get shoved back into his mouth once again. He felt something cold and sharp hit his arm lightly for a moment, before it sliced through his skin, and he let out what, without the gag, would have been a blood curdling scream.

"Oh, shut up. It's not that bad," whoever was doing this said, but Tommy couldn't stop, still shaking and whimpering and screaming. They rolled their eyes, before grabbing Tommy's head, forcing him to look up. Tommy felt the blade press against his throat.

"What do you say we have some fun?"

The whines got a little louder, a little more violent, and he thrashed, trying desperately to get away from the blade. something moved to his head, pinning it to the wall, and Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the facility again, not wanting for everything he had seen to be a dream.

He wasn't sure what was reality anymore. He wasn't sure who was real, whether they were in the facility or a bathroom. All he could focus on was the slowly approaching blade.

After a few minutes of it steadily getting closer, the screeching felt like it was right next to his ear. It was uncomfortable, and made anxiety swell in his chest, but he did his best to contain it.

Until someone's hand landed on his cheek. Reminding him too much of the person who had started the procedure all those years ago.

Immediately, he thrashed violently, moving his head forward and hitting the edge of the blade to his chin. Someone let out a startled yelp, before his head was gripped again, and pushed back against the wall. The knife returned, only a few centimeters from his throat, and he felt blood dribble down his chin from the blade.

He attempted to shake them off, and when that didn't succeed, he opened his mouth and attempted to bite the hand pushing his head to the wall through the fabric in his mouth. Even when a startled yelp was let out, he didn't let go, still trying to trash away.

The person didn't let do, still holding him there even with Tommy's teeth embedded in it. After a moment or so, he felt a presence enter his mind, pushing all of his memories down. He relaxed unconsciously at the familiar presence, and the process went a lot faster once he calmed down slightly. He still shook, but he wasn't really struggling anymore.

At some point, they turned him around to cut the back, and he put up no resistance. Idly, he wondered when he should cut his hair, as it was getting fairly long now. Eventually, the knife left, and he was turned back around, blinking up at Drista and Purpled. He tried to say something, but the cloth in his mouth prevented him from doing so, so he just sat there, staring ahead.

Drista cleared her throat after a moment, "you ready to do this?"

Slowly, he nodded, looking down with his head. Drista and Purpled both looked relatively uncomfortable.

"Alright. I'm...I'm going to pull it off, Drista's going to hold you down, okay?" Purpled questioned, and Tommy nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to well up in them at the thought of someone touching the collar.

Two cold hands gripped his head and arms, with a knee across his own legs. Then, two other hands gripped at the collar, and pulled.

Hard.

It pulled away from his skin, not fully detaching, and Tommy felt all of the outer layers come with it. A horrible stench of blood, burned skin, and something almost rotting immediately made its way to his nose, and he let out a near blood curdling scream. Even the fabric in his mouth did little to lessen the pain, and he hoped that it wouldn't alert anyone that something was wrong.

Still, Purpled yanked again, pulling even more burnt skin off of his neck, leaving bloody splotches and burned patches of skin. After a few more tugs, Tommy babbling needless pleas filled with whimpers and screaming, one half of the collar was off, blood pouring out of the open wounds that were left by removing the collar. It was red and splotchy, and all the skin there was burned; red, browns, and blacks across it.

Purpled dropped the collar on the floor, but Tommy paid it no mind, instead still trying to trash out of Drista's grip, to get away from the pain.

"Do the other half," he vaguely heard Drista murmur, "I want to get this over as soon as possible."

The hands gripped the other half, and the process repeated again. The collar pulling away, taking patches of skin and muscle with it, and leaving behind burned skin, and blood spilling down onto the floor.

After a while, both severed halves of the collar were on the floor, and a pool of blood surrounded the three teens. Drista stood up, Purpled replacing her next to Tommy as he openly sobbed in pain on the blood-soaked floor, vaguely nodding as she said she would check up on Shroud.

Carefully, with bloody fingers, he pulled the gag out of his mouth, attempting to rub soothing circles on Tommy's back with a grimace. The clothes that they wore were now soaked through with blood, and he hoped that Quackity wouldn't get too mad at them for it.

He fell asleep soon after, rags pressed against his raw, burned, and bleeding throat. It was the only way for him to escape the pain, to escape the burning reality of how things were.

He really hoped that Quackity waited until tomorrow to call him.

Chapter Text

Quackity didn't call him down that day, thankfully. He spent it lying in the bathroom, rags around his head, with Drista lightly holding his neck, attempting to heal the wounds that were probably too far gone to ever be fully healed. They stayed like that for hours, sitting side by side, until Drista needed a break, feeling slightly nauseous after using her powers for so long. After so long, his neck was no longer full of open wounds, cracked and broken, burned skin. It was still a massive scar, red a mottled skin covering his entire neck, but at least he didn't have the collar on anymore, and at least there wasn't much blood actively running down it.

He'd have to be careful with it for a while thought; it was still prone to infection, and twisting his neck too much would probably cause his skin to tear and him to bleed more, but Tommy was filled with joy the first time that he could reach up to his neck and not feel the cool metal there, and had burst into tears with how happy he was.

Still, the next morning, he had a feeling that Quackity was going to call upon him at...at some point, though Tommy wasn't sure when. So, carefully, he stood up and got changed, though he kept the scarf off and let Drista heal him some more. He had grabbed a bandaid from the bathroom and put it over his identification code, and he thought it was good enough. Better than using the scarf to hide it at least.

Still, at what, Tommy thought to be at least, ten or eleven in the morning, there was a knock on the door, loud and echoing through the living area.

Sighing, he tied the scarf around his neck, yelling out a 'coming' to whoever was waiting to take him to Quackity. After a moment, he slipped towards the door, pulling it open, only to come face to face with Slimecicle.

"Hello Tommy from L'Manburg!" he said cheerfully, patting him on the back, "Quackity from Las Nevadas asked me to come get you!"

Tommy nodded, "alright. Thanks Slimecicle."

It was quiet for a moment, and Tommy waved goodbye to his friends before closing the door, and slipping out into the off-white hallway of the casino. He sent a small smile toward Slimecicle, before moving away from him, walking down the hallway in the original way that Slimecicle had taken them.

"Charlie."

Tommy blinked, "what?"

"My name is Charlie," he said, moving forward and ahead of Tommy, pressing the button on the elevator.

The younger blinked in confusion, but didn't say anything else, following Charlie into the elevator quietly. He pressed the basement level, and pressed in the code that it required, before watching as it moved down. Tommy wasn't sure how fast normal elevators move, he hadn't been on one in a long time, but he was fairly certain that this one was considered fast. 

When they reached the floor, Charlie gave Tommy a small shove, and he stumbled out of the elevator. As he turned around to face him, Charlie smiled, "just go to Quackity from Las Nevedas' office! He'll meet you there!"

"Alright Sl-Charlie," Tommy turned, walking through the area with a feeling of eyes on his back. It was unnerving, and he looked down the entire time, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

After about a minute, he made it to the office, pushing the door open. He stepped inside, before blinking in surprise.

Rather than there being just Quackity like there had been the past two times he was down here, there was another person. Quackity was still there obviously, but another man stood on his right, as though he was awaiting instruction, though that could have been correct.

He had brown hair, though his bangs had been dyed a green color. Two green eyes stared at him, and Tommy could see a gas mask hanging around his neck, not put on yet. Tommy could see a green hoodie, the same color as his bangs, underneath a couple layers of black armor. He had dark blue jeans on, with black combat boots. His ears were elongated and pointed, the edges a green color, and Tommy could see that his hands were tinged green as well. Behind him, a long, thin tail swished slightly, as though he was nervous.

Tommy had never met the man before, yet there was something familiar about how he looked. As though he had seen him before. Not in person, and Tommy had no idea about how he acted, but something about how he looked seemed...familiar.

Before he could ponder on it much further, Quackity nodded at him, before pointing at the guy.

"This is Warden," he said, leaning, "he's the main tech guy for me, makes all the stuff for Slime too. He'll be helping you figure what you want to make your costume look like and stuff, restrictions. He'll do the same for your friends later too."

After a moment, he leaned forward, "also, don't piss him off. He can explode at will, or when he gets really angry. Explosions don't hurt him, so really, that's just more money I'll have to spend to fix my stuff."

Warden let out an offended noise, "don't scare the kid Quackity! People already view me as scary, I want at least a chance of getting to know him."

Tommy paused. That power sounded...familiar. He was fairly certain he had read about someone with it in a book somewhere....oh. For gods sake. He put a hand on his head and massaged his forehead. Nothing could ever go right for him, could it?

"You okay?" Warden asked him, and Tommy looked up, eyes looking over the other man's form, before he sighed. Yeah, he was right.

After a moment, he spoke, "you're Hephaestus, aren't you?"

It was quiet for a second, before Quackity started chuckling, and Hephaestus sighed, "yes. Yes I am. Quackity, take your goddamn money and stop cackling."

"What?" Tommy blinked, confused. Why was Hephaestus, a hero, giving money to a guy who very clearly did illegal things?

"We made a bet as to whether or not you'd know," Quackity grabbed the money out of Hephaestus' hand, "so thank you, I just got fifty dollars."

After a few more moments, Quackity gestured for them both to sit down, before he started speaking, "I'm assuming you'd like an explanation?" at Tommy's nod, he gestured at Hephaestus to speak, who sighed.

"I am technically a hero, but Quackity and I are good friends. In all honestly, I'm not very happy with the current structure of hero society, so I have an alter ego," he sighed, brushing a hand through his hair.

He leveled Tommy with a look, "most of the time, I work for the heroes. I make the gear there, so I determine who gets really good gear and who gets okay gear. They know me as Hephaestus, and only Hephaestus. Here though, I make gear for the vigilantes, who don't have to abide by the restrictions a hero does. they get more done than we ever do. Here, I'm the Warden, known only in the small circle of vigilantes that Quackity decides to help."

"But if you'd like," he extended a hand, "I'd be happy to be a little more than acquaintances. I'd love to help you with more than just gear, if you'll let me."

Tommy hesitated. Adults had hurt him, again and again. To trust one not because of a deal, but because he wanted to would go against everything he had forced himself to learn, everything that he had been forced to learn through pain and suffering.

Yet, as he looked into Hephaestus' eyes, he couldn't find it in himself to fight him. He looked so...so genuine. So wanting to help. He reminded Tommy of himself, in a weird way, always determined to help, always determined to find a way around it. That was more comforting than Tommy thought it would be, considering how much he hated how he acted himself.

So, cautiously, he grabbed Hephaestus' hand, feeling the cold engulf his limb from the clawed green hand, and he saw the other man smile.

"Hello," he murmured quietly, still staring at the hand, "my name is Tommy."

Hephaestus nodded, "hi Tommy. I'm Sam."

Chapter Text

Apparently, Sam had an entire lab built one level below Quackity's offices, and it was only accessible through the door in Quackity's office. It was...eerie, being led through the hallways behind, Tommy had to admit. There were barely any traces of life, and he swore he could spy the occasional blood splatter, but decided not to comment on it.

Yet, the lab was a whole other story. Half-finished machines, computers still on with code pulled up on the screens, scarps of metal lying around. It was messy, but Tommy couldn't help but find himself loving it. He had always associated labs with bad things, the facility had done that to him. They meant new 'experiments' that were really just glorified torture methods. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a way for him to get something like this for himself, just so he could tinker with machinery. It would be fun, he'd never had the chance to tinker before, but it seemed...interesting. Like a useful hobby.

"Alright!" Sam walked in front of him, smiling. Tommy could see his fangs poking out from just behind his lips, "let's get started on designing your suit. For now, we'll just use paper, so- what can you tell me about what you want?"

Tommy tilted his head considering, staring ahead at the page of paper in front of him, "I...it needs to be light."

"Any reason why?" Sam tilted his head, and Tommy saw nothing but genuine curiosity behind his eyes. 

Still, he shifted uncomfortably, "I- uh, I...my powers...shapeshifting."

He got very quiet at the end, but slowly extended his hand, watching as it engulfed in a white light, before his hand was replaced with a gray paw, shaggy fur falling down from the end.

Sam's eyes lit up, and he reached a clawed hand forward, before hesitating, looking up to meet Tommy's eyes, "may I?"

Tommy opened his mouth, before closing it again. He wasn't sure; people 'asking' usually meant that they didn't really want him to say no. But Sam had been so nice to him, part of Tommy wanted to trust the man, to ignore the part of him that said he couldn't trust anyone but his friends. Tommy...Tommy didn't know if he could extend that level of trust to Sam. Not yet. Not until the man proved himself. Still, he was working on Tommy's suit, so it would probably be useful for him to know...

Slowly, Tommy nodded, not meeting the man's eyes, end he felt a cold, scaled hand grip his own, twisting the arm around a bit to get a better look. He tensed as soon as they first made contact, but Tommy had to admit, it was...alright. Not great, he still felt uncomfortable, still felt uncertain around Sam, but...but it wasn't awful. There was no slash of pain, no burning hot feeling spreading up from his neck, just a hand carefully moving his own.

After a few moments, Sam let go, though his eyes watched as Tommy hand fell limply to his side., "fascinating."

He looked up at Tommy, a question on his lips, "do you mind telling me a little more about your power? What you're comfortable with, at least. Shapeshifting is such a diverse power, and I think I've only ever met one other person with it..."

At the mention of this other person, Sam's smile grew slightly sorrowful, and his eyes grew distant. Tommy shifted uncomfortably. He'd never been good with talking to other people when they were sad, never been good with emotions. Purpled helped sometimes, able to tell Tommy what he should say without giving too much away, through subtle glances or, rarely, telepathy. But Purpled wasn't here right now, and Tommy had a zero in the social skills box of life.

"Do you, uh, want- do you want to talk about them?" dear god Tommy hoped that was the right thing to do. He really hoped that Sam didn't get mad because Tommy asked, that would be bad. They had been getting along so well too!

Sam snapped out of whatever trance he had been in at his word, looking up to stare at him. After a moment, he shook his head, a bitter smile on his face, "no, but thanks for the offer. It isn't really...it's not my story to tell. Besides, he's been dead for years."

Tommy nodded, accepting the answer, though he swore he heard a whisper of 'Though it's not his to tell either. Not anymore.' from Sam, but paid it no mind. He wasn't even sure what that meant.

That didn't stop Tommy from putting it in the back of his head for later. Information is valuable. You never knew what would come up when.

After a moment, Tommy coughed, catching Sam's attention again, "my powers are...are a little strange. I can shift into any animal I see -animals closer to my size take a shorter amount of time to shift to. But, uh, the thing is, I need to know, like, their biology."

Sam tilted his head, "what?"

"I need to know their organ structure. I need to know how their insides work," Tommy further explained, "if I don't, than rather than copying their insides, I copy their outsides -what I know- and my insides just get, like, smaller? Like, they fit to go inside whatever shape of body I shift to. Does- does that make sense?" ah yes, one of the many things being dissected like a science project taught him. One of the others was 'don't let yourself get strapped down to a table. Ever.'

Sam nodded, "that makes sense, yeah. So, I'm assuming you know a lot of biology?"

Tommy rubbed his neck, "more than I probably should. And only for the animals I use the most, like wolf or crow."

"Mhm" Sam hummed, beginning to sketch something out on the paper. Tommy wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he wasn't really trying to find out, "any limitations you think are important?"

He paused, "anything that I want to shift with me has to be touching my skin and around five pounds- I think at least?"

Sam looked up, "five pounds of stuff touching your skin total or five pounds for each object?"

"Five pounds for each object," Tommy specified.

He could see the other man let out a sigh of relief, "well, that makes things a lot easier. Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?"

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, "uh, sure?"

"Alright! So, what happens if you use your power too much?" Sam tilted his head.

"Uh, I either get really tired or vomit. Like, on the spot," Tommy admitted sheepishly.

The older nodded, "can you shift into people?"

"I-" Tommy paused. Could he? "I don't know."

Sam blinked, "really?"

"Guess I never really bothered to find out," Tommy shrugged.

The other let out a smile, "well, would you like to find out?"

"Sure, I guess," he tried very hard to not show how excited he was. Tommy was fairly certain he failed, but he tried nonetheless.

They moved into a more open space, and Sam tilted his head, gesturing to Tommy, "you can try whoever you'd like. It's probably best if it's the person you're the most comfortable with, since this is your first time doing this."

Cautiously, he closed his eyes, immediately thinking of Purpled. He couldn't help it, the older was his best friend! Still, he focused on the form, on what he looked like. Tommy could feel disappointment starting to fester in his chest when he didn't feel that link he normally did when shifting.

After a few minutes, Sam sighed, "we should probably try something else.It doesn't seem like this is working."

Although he was inclined to agree, Tommy didn't want to give up. Not now. He wanted to be able to do this, he knew that he could. And Tommy had never been one to give up.

Despite Sam obviously asking him something, Tommy didn't respond, instead focusing on Purpled. Not on what he looked like, Tommy already tried that, but on who he was. He focused instead on mentally putting himself into Purpled's role, into his personality. He focused on what the other thought, what he was to himself, what he was to Tommy. And, after a while of course, he felt himself begin to shift.

After about ten or fifteen seconds, he opened his eyes, looking around to see that he was slightly taller than he was normally. Blond hair, a shade or two lighter than his own, draped in front of his eyes, and he felt two antennae twitch on top of his head, as well as a tail flicking behind him.

Slowly, Tommy's gaze flitted to Sam, and he saw the other man stare at him, eyes wide as they traced over his form, "huh."

Tommy snorted, and, in a voice that was a near perfect replica of Purpled's in everything except for tone, he spoke, "I think 'huh' might be a bit of an understatement Big Man."

Chapter Text

It had taken nearly five or six hours for Tommy to come back up. They may have gotten a tab bit distracted when they found out that Tommy could shapeshift into people, but in all fairness, it was really cool. Still, as the time dragged on, he could feel apprehension beginning to burn in his chest, anxious from being separated from his friends for so long.
So, they eventually got back to designing the suit, Sam drawing, as Tommy didn't believe that he was very good at drawing, while Tommy spoke about what he wanted and what he needed. For a while, they even spoke about what Tommy thought his friends might want in their suits, and though Sam would be calling them both down the next day in order for them to design theirs. He had taken Tommy's measurements, and Tommy still shivered at the cold silence that had been when Sam saw a couple of Tommy's scars. Silently, he had wished he covered them up more thoroughly, but the man asked no questions, and Tommy didn't answer any.

When they finished up, Sam all but pushed Tommy out of the lab, telling him that he should rest up and he would finish the suit in a week or two. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to argue, especially with how longing he was to see that his friends were okay, but the experience was a lot of fun. Sam...Tommy wasn't...he didn't trust Sam. Not yet. Trust for him had to be earned, and not just through making him a suit. But...but Sam was nice, Tommy decided. He didn't push on Tommy's problems, and Tommy didn't push on his.

As he clambered up the stairs he picked at the edges of the red T-shirt he had taken from the drawers. It frayed under his touch, and Tommy frowned.

"Maybe I should pick up sewing," he muttered under his breath, before blinking. At the...before, Tommy had thought about picking up sewing a lot. He hadn't been allowed to, as they believe he could 'use the needle as a weapon' (which was bullshit, Tommy could literally shapeshift into a wolf and maul them to death), so he always thought of it in passing. He'd never really had any hobbies, the facility wasn't exactly a welcoming place for you to defy them or have your own wants, but now...if he wanted to, Tommy could pick up a hobby now, couldn't he? That was a...strange thought, after all the years spent at the facility.

Still, in order to do that, Tommy would have to buy all of the supplies. He'd have to buy books to learn, or, god forbid, find someone to teach him. He'd have to buy the needles, the fabric, the pins. Everything would have to be bought. Tommy...he didn't want to do that. He wouldn't waste whatever money they got on some stupid idea of a hobby. He was fine with what he had. Besides, Tommy had his deck of cards somewhere in the room he had been 'sleeping' in. That was good enough for now.

He shook his head, beginning to walk on his way towards the rooming area, "maybe when we have more money."

The corridors, especially without someone with him, were dull. Eerie silence reached his ears, and it felt as though one wrong moved would break it. Plush carpet under his feet dulled the sounds of his steps, and he winced as he stepped in a part where something had obviously been spilled. He lifted his foot in disgust, sniffing at it, before wrinkling his nose. Definitely alcohol. 

After a few minutes, he slipped the door to their area open, stepping inside, before shutting it behind him. Almost immediately, he took off the shoe that had stepped in the stain and, for lack of a better term, chucked it, watching as it bounced across the floor a few times before stopping ten or so feet from him. Tommy sighed at the lack of the smell of alcohol, relieved.

Though he had only been past the office area a few times, he remembered vividly how each time there had been the disgusting smell of alcohol all but reeking from it. Occasionally, there would be the sound of glass shattering that echoed through the area, or shouting from a room. Every time, he was simply ushered away, no one there to answer his questions.

After a few moments of staring at the shoe, he snapped out of it, taking off his other shoe, and fiddling with the retied scarf around his neck, covering the scar from view. He could still feel the itch of it, the fact that it was agitated and red, but paid it no mind. He'd been through worse.

Going through the area was easy, and he felt his nose twitch at the sent of something cooking. Quietly, he went to the kitchen, slipping onto one of the stools next to the counter. Purpled was the one in the kitchen, and immediately noticed Tommy's presence, sending the younger a nod, before going back to work.

What Purpled was making, or even how he knew how to make it, was a mystery to Tommy, but, quite honestly, he didn't want to know. So he didn't ask. 

Still, he sat, watching as Purpled walked through the kitchen, a few different ingredients on the table next to Tommy. After a little bit, he lowered his head into his arms, finally feeling exhaustion begin to overtake him, his eyes slipping shut.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, a hand was placed on his shoulder, jostling him awake. Tommy let out a groan, looking up to glare at whoever had awoken him, and Purpled stared back unapologetically.

"You gotta go to a bed Toms," he murmured, before puling Tommy up and shouldering half of the smaller boy's weight.

Tommy blinked blearily, slowly glancing around the room, before dropping his head, already exhausted, "w' d'sc'vered I c'oud t'rn to hum'ns."

Purpled hummed noncommittally, "make sense. We are animals, so it's pretty likely you'd be able to shift into people."

"Mhm. S'm tho'ght it w's impr'ss've," Tommy speech was progressively getting more and more slurred, and he heard Purpled grunt.

His weight was shifted again, though Tommy paid no mind to it, "Jesus Tommy, when was the last time you slept? Or ate, actually, you feel like a twig."

Tommy snorted, "n'ne y'ur bus'ness."

"Alright Tommy," he could practically feel Purpled's eye roll, but honestly, was too tired to do anything about it, "whatever you say."

Before they could get much more in Purpled finally got to Tommy room, kicked the door open, before he dumped Tommy on the bed. As he was slipping out, Tommy thought he heard a quiet 'sleep well' but was too focused on sleeping to really say or do anything back. The mattress was soft, and slowly, he drifted, letting his mind fall away.

(The next morning, when he awoke, the door was cracked open. Right in front of it was a couple of fabrics, sewing books, needles, pins, and so much more.On top of them was a note, reading 'have fun kid.'

Tommy wasn't sure who put it there, but he almost immediately opened the the book, grabbed some needles and fabric, and got started. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

And, as he looked upon the finished jacket he had made two days later, Tommy thought a silent thank you to whoever had given it to him.)

Chapter Text

It had taken nine days for them to be called down again.

Drista and Purpled had gone down the next day, and spent much less time with Sam than he did, which Tommy was only slightly embarrassed about. Still, they had all been excited to see the suits together, to go out on patrol and help people. Just the idea alone was enough to bring a smile to their faces.

They had decided that Shroud could see their suits and know what they're doing, but he most definitely wasn't allowed on patrol with them. He had protested this, but ultimately, against three people all older than him, he eventually relented, with the promise that if he wanted to, once he turned sixteen he could join them too. They weren't going to put a child in danger.

So when a little over a week they were called back down to the lab, it was quite obvious how excited they were. Racing through the halls like children to try and get their first, all eager to try on their new suits.

Actually, Purpled stood behind, watching them with a smile and snickering at their fate. Drista was practically clawing at Tommy to try and get there first, and Shroud had apparently made a habit of running around Tommy and trying to trip him. Endearing, but annoying. So, so annoying. 

When they entered the lab, it was just as messy as it had been when Tommy had first stepped inside. Messy, but still much cleaner than he would expect it to be.

After a little bit, Sam had come in and got them, laughing at their antics with Purpled. Still, a few minutes later, they were taken inside a room to the side of the lab, and Sam handed each of them a case, before gesturing to the changing rooms. He side-eyed the fabric Tommy, Drista, and Purpled were holding, but let them go in.

Quickly Tommy went inside, carefully strapping each piece together onto his skin. When he had nearly finished, there were only a couple of items he had to put on, but before he did that, Tommy grabbed the fabric, unfolding it and staring at the hoodie that he was holding.

It wasn't the best, he had to admit, but Tommy loved it. Some of the seems were untidy and tearing apart, and there were multiple multicolored patches around the entire thing, not at all matching with the hoodie. But he was proud of it; it had been the first thing he had created. Silently, he prayed that Drista and Purpled liked what he made for them too, but he had no way of knowing until he got out there. Drista's was better than him, and Purpled's was the only one he had enough fabric of that color to make the entire thing, but he hoped they were good enough.

Quickly, he slipped it on, watching as it covered the under-armor of the suit, which was black and red in coloring. The hoodie matched with the overall color scheme well, Tommy noted.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the few remaining objects that he had to add on. Two armor pads for his knees and elbows, the backpack that connected all the way around his chest with a circular multi-colored disk in the center, the black and red shoes that Sam has made him.

In the end, he only had three things left. The mask and goggles, and the metal baseball bat he had requested, which would be strapped to the small 'pack' on his back. It didn't weigh much, but honestly, Tommy didn't plan on shifting much while out as a vigilante, too afraid someone would recognize him.

After a moment, he grabbed the mask, adjusting his hair to strap it around his ears. There was a small section that looked similar to that of headphones, and he stuck it in his ear, though ti made no sound. The whole thing tugged at his ears a little, but it wasn't too bad, and the metal was cool across the bottom half of his face. He grabbed the goggles, glad that they had a band to strap around his head so he wouldn't have to put more strain on his ears, though he winced as the clips Shroud had put in his hair earlier that day hit it, creating an awful clinking noise.

Once he was done, Tommy adjusted them a slight bit, before grabbing the bat, and awkwardly attaching it to his back, trying to clasp it there. After a few minutes, he sighed, opting to just holding it to his side. His gloved hands held it tightly, and he took an experimental swing with it, marveling at how easy it was to use. Slowly, a grin came on his face. He was so going to bash someone's head in with this.

A look in the mirror showed him fully what he looked like. Robotic goggles and mask covered his face, and the hoodie made it pretty unidentifiable what his physique was. The disk on his chest was green in the center, on the one on his back was a purple color, with cuffs attached to it to strap the bat to. His gloved were red and gray, just like the bat, and, upon placing them onto the his pant leg, were kind of...sticky? Not unreasonably so, but it would definitely be harder to knock fabric out of his hand. Looking at the bat, he realized there was a layer of fabric around the bottom, and he blinked as realization came to his mind. Oh.

Shaking his head, he noticed a token, similar to the one Quackity had given him originally, hanging from his belt. It was red in coloring, matching with his color scheme, with the same blocky smiley face as before. He fidgeted with it for a moment, before letting it fall out of his hand, hung to the belt by a string through a loop.

Quickly, he moved to the door, taking a step out, and looking curiously around the room through the new goggles. It was...strange. Not different enough to be hard to see, but...strange.

Everything looked...brighter. Some type of night vision, he assumed, given that he was going to be out at night time doing vigilante work. Colors looked different, with the goggles on, but not enough that he'd make a fuss out of it.

Sam made eye contact with him, and smiled brightly, "Tommy! How do you like the suit?"

"It's...good," Tommy settled on after a moment, unsure of how to express how he felt about it. It was a new beginning, a new purpose. It was a way to free him from the shackles of being Tommy, of being a kid that could never truly be free, because he wasn't Tommy like this. He wasn't. He was Theseus, a soon-to-be vigilante that could help people. Not hurt them.

After a moment, Sam gestured to the side, where he could see Drista and Purpled playing with Shroud as they waited, "they finished up faster than you, though yours does have a lot more pieces than theirs. I gave them a run down on how it works, but I'll go ahead and tell you about your too. Besides," he lowered his voice, "you have a couple of, uh, extra features."

"Either way," Sam raised his voice again, "here we go. Press the center of the front disk."

Cautiously, Tommy did so, blinking as the world faded back to looked the same as it did before he put the goggles. At the side, near the edge of it, he could see the words 'unfiltered' at the top of his vision.

"Huh," he pressed it again, watching as the world became different colors, the people reds and oranges and yellows. Internally, he noted that Purpled and Shroud both seemed to have lower body temperatures than the other people. Up in the top of his vision, the words 'thermal imagery' flashed for a few moments.

Sam nodded, "your goggles have four separate types that it can filter your vision to be. Normal, thermal, night vision, and one that is, essentially, just making your goggles brighter so it will light things up more."

"Oh," Tommy felt blush rise at what his previous assumption was.

The older laughed, "yeah. If you want to, you can go in and make it so that one won't work, but for now, you just cycle through by tapping the disk. Alright, now press one of your hands to the top left corner of your mask."

Quickly, he swapped the bat in his hands, before pressing the button, wincing as sound began to filter through. Both Drista's and Purpled's voices became clear after a moment, but he had to admit, it was still very loud, and he quickly pressed it again, slumping as the voices disappeared.

"Too loud?" Sam questioned, and Tommy nodded. Sam chuckled sheepishly, "ah, sorry about that. I'm not the best at telling what's too loud and what's too quiet. Phil complains about it a lot."

Ignoring the mention of a 'Phil', Tommy tilted his head, "why not?"

Pausing for a moment, Sam brushed away some of his brown hair from his ears, and Tommy blinked at the obvious hearing aid there, "my body doesn't get hurt by the explosions, but, uh, wasn't exactly built to handle the sound As Warden and Hephaestus, I have things to block out most sound so I don't have to hear it, but when I was younger and it first happened, my hearing was nearly shot. I can still hear, just only when it's loud."

"Makes sense," Tommy felt a pang of sympathy for the guy, before steeling himself again.

Shaking his head, Sam stood up straighter, sending Tommy a strained smile, "anyways, I have a couple of things to give you. First, here."

Two small, eerily familiar cuffs were given to him, and Tommy unconsciously tensed. Quiet honestly, he didn't want to see power restraining cuffs again, let alone hold them.

Oblivious to Tommy's inner battles, Sam rubbed his head, "you don't have to take them with you if you don't want to, but the back disc has a bit of storage in it. They're useful if you encounter someone who isn't willing to give up or has a particularly dangerous power."

With shaking hands, Tommy gave them to Sam again, before turning around, "go...go ahead."

His fist clenched tighter around the baseball bat as Tommy heard something metal hit against the metal of the disk. He was probably never going to use them, but...but he couldn't deny that they would be useful if he was ever running into a lot of trouble. That did nothing to quell the unease in his chest, but he tried to push past it, not wanting to ruin the mood he was in before.

"Anyway," Sam rubbed the back of his neck, "I, uh, also have this. I use one similar on my Warden outfit, and thought you might like having one too."

He extended his hand, and Tommy's eyes widened at the knife that was there. The blade was a silver color, and, attached to the hilt, was a crystal, likely ruby based on the limited knowledge that Tommy had about gems.

Carefully, he extended a gloved hand forward, gripping around the hilt of the blade, "woah."

"It's good to have another way to defend yourself. You can strap it to your belt," Sam explained.

Quickly, he did so, strapping it right next to the token that was hanging there.

"I..." he hesitated, "thanks Sam."

Sam smiled at him, "no problem kid."

After a few seconds, Sam called for his friends to come over, and, albeit hesitantly, they did so, almost immediately circling around each other. His hand was intertwined with Purpled's, and he felt a sense of comfort at being so close to his friends.

"On the right side of you mask, you have another button," Sam murmured, moving a little away from them, "press it twice, and it'll be a distress call to Slimecicle. Three times is to me, and four is to Quackity. We'll come to your location as soon as we can, okay?"

"Alright," Purpled nodded, "anything else?"

Sam hummed, before, "what do you want to be known as, vigilante-wise?"

Tommy snorted, "Theseus."

"I'll go by Atalanta, I guess, and he," she gestured to Purpled, "can still be Orpheus."

"Hey!" Purpled cried out in defiance.

Drista raised an eyebrow, "you were going to pick it anyway, get over yourself."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "are you sure you wanna use the same name for your vigilante persona as you are using now?"

Pausing for a moment, Purpled shrugged, "at this point, I don't give a fuck. Hi, I'm Purpled."

"Ooo, are we doing real name reveals?" Drista gave a fake salute to Sam, "I'm Drista motherfucker!"

"Guys," Tommy hissed, before sighing, "well, I guess you can tell Quackity now. No point in keeping it a secret."

Sam blinked a couple of times, before shaking his head, and Tommy swore he muttered something about 'kids giving him a heart attack', but that could have just been the younger's imagination.

Tommy shook his head, "alright. What time is it right now?"

"Uh," Sam glanced to a clock on the wall, "about 7:30 at night, why?"

After a moment, Tommy grinned, spinning the baseball bat around in his hand, "because I really want to wreck some asshole's shit right now."

Chapter Text

Tommy was used to being inside.

He had been trapped for years in the facility, only let out every few months if he was 'good'. Being inside for prolonged periods of time wasn't new to him, not after so long.

But as soon as he stepped onto the roof of the casino, his friends and Charlie right next to him, Tommy couldn't deny the relief it brought him. The cold hair on his forehead, as the rest was covered with fabric or metal, and the darkness of night, one or two stars in the sky, the rest masked by the darkness. Some part of Tommy missed being out in the middle of nowhere, where he could see all the stars with no smog from the city to block them, but the city had brought them a new lease on living, and he couldn't deny that some part of him was drawn here, drawn to this city, drawn to the people.

The roof of the casino was high up, nearly a hundred feet if Tommy had to guess. Still, Charlie seemed to be familiar, so Tommy opted to just follow him.

The older made his way to the edge of the building, before turning around and grinning, "follow me!"

Almost immediately, he jumped backward, and Tommy startled. After a moment, he glanced back, seeing both Drista and Purpled stare at him, before he sighed. Guess he'd have to be the one to go first.

"Here we go..." quickly, so as not to give himself time to back out, Tommy stepped forward, falling down through the air for a few seconds, before one of Charlie's hand grabbed his own, hoisting him up onto the roof of a building right next to the casino, 20 or so feet below the roof.

Drista and Purped soon followed, and Charlie took a step back, "you'll be with me for tonight, but after a while, we'll make your own patrol routes for you to take!"

He paused, looking back to stair at Tommy, "on a scale of one to ten, how would you rank your combat skills."

Tommy was shoved through the hallway, blood still dripping from the few opens wounds he had that the guards caused. There were no scientists around them this time, and Tommy pushed back the urge to ask where they were taking him. They were rough with him, shoving him forward whenever he paused, and their hands were hard against his marred skin.

After a few minutes, he was taken to a closed off room, and shoved into a cage, like a wild animal. The gate shut behind him with a clang, and for a moment, he was frozen, before lashing out, trying valiantly to get out of the cage.

"Where the-" Tommy sucked a deep breath in, his lungs burned not used to speaking anymore, "what the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

One of the guards grinned, before his gun was pointed up, and pressed directly to Tommy's forehead. Immediately, he froze, and the guard started speaking, "we want some, uh, entertainment, so go along with it and we won't kill you."

They began to step out of the room and the gun was lowered away from his head, and Tommy wilted in relief, before the guy turned to look at him, "only rule is don't permanently scar or hurt the other. The higher-ups don't give a fuck what we do as long as you still work good enough."

After a minutes or so of Tommy cowering in the cage, it opened up, rising from the platform he was in. The room lit up, bright blue lights on every side of him, and Tommy squinted for a moment, before looking across from him.

Directly opposite him, on the other side of the room, was another cage risen just above a wooden platform. On top of it sat a kid that looked quite a bit older than himself, with slitted green eyes, and a small tail behind him, the boy's mouth was open, and Tommy could see fangs protruding from his jawline as the boy hissed at Tommy.

"Fight."

It was sounded through the speakers, and almost immediately, the boy lunged at Tommy, clawed hands outstretched to grip his throat, and Tommy's eyes widened. Instinctively, he dodged out of the way, watching as the boy hit the wood, before turning around to glare at Tommy.

The boy in question let out a heaving cough, before looking at the reptilian boy, "what the fuck man! What are you doing?!"

He let out a laugh, circling around Tommy's form, "what they want me to."

And then he lunged again. And again. And over and over until Tommy was bloody and battered on the floor, until they were separated and Tommy was taken back to his cell where he could wallow in pain, the non-lethal venom from the boy still leaving his body aching.

Tommy was ten at the time. The fights continued until he was thirteen.

He forgot what was too far, and lunged for the throat, killing the poor girl who had been forced to fight him. The fights stopped after that.

That day wasn't the first day Tommy had spilled someones blood, but it was the first time he was the reason someone took their last breath.

It wouldn't be the last.

"Good enough," Tommy decided on, pushing the memory away.

Drista poked him, "that's not a number."

"Oh, shut up," Tommy grumbled, shoving her away, before sighing, "fine. Six or Seven, probably."

Purpled shrugged, "probably a five."

"Three," Drista pouted, "why are you two so much better than me?"

"My brother taught me when I was younger a little," Purpled shrugged.

Tommy sent Drista a look that screamed 'you know why'. The fights had only ever been between people with my more physical powers, so Drista and Purpled, as Purpled's more physical side to his power hadn't been discovered until after they had stopped. Shroud had been too young for them to think he'd be entertaining, which Tommy still growled about every time that he thought of it, that they might have put Shroud in them if he didn't stop them. Those were the only times that he was glad he killed that girl and stopped the fights.

Charlie nodded, "alright. We'll train all of you up, but you two," he pointed to Drista and Purpled, "especially."

"But for today," he walked towards the edge, before turning to them with a bright smile, "we'll be going around town to stop more minor crimes. Muggings, assaults, you know what I mean."

Tommy nodded, "fair enough. We going?"

Charlie nodded, sending them a smile as he tipped backward, giving them a salute, "try and keep up with me!"

After a moment, Tommy grinned, speeding ahead of his friends, "oh you are so on Slimecicle."

They raced for a while, running along. It seemed that Charlie was taking them through the less crime-filled area of town so they could get used to going along first, which Tommy could partially understand, but was still petty about. He didn't need to be fucking babied!

Either way, the first incident happened about and hour in. They had been running, and Tommy swore he heard something, really quiet, but enough that his sensitive ears could pick it up. Still, he didn't mention it, instead letting the others go ahead, before slipping away. They'd realize he wasn't there soon enough, probably Charlie or Purpled, though he didn't know which.

Tommy had walked along the sides of the roofs over to the commotion, where he peered over the edge. He couldn't see through the darkness, before blinking. Sam had literally showed him the functions of his suit earlier that day, why the fuck hadn't Tommy turned on night vision yet?

Fumbling for a moment, he pressed the front disk twice, as he was in normal vision before, and watched as his vision became nearly all black and green. Vaguely, he could make out the form of two people, both standing below him, the only sound he could hear the whimpers coming from the one sitting on the floor.

"For gods sake," the other groaned, pressing something against the lower one's neck, "just give me the fucking money, and I'll be on my way."

A mugger, Tommy implied. Quackity had given them a run down of people with what symbols not to attack, and Tommy couldn't see any on the guy, so Tommy could safely assume that he would be fine to attack without getting in trouble.

After a few moments, Tommy grabbed the baseball bat from his back, moving it around experimentally so as to get used to the weight of it. It was fairly light, and though Tommy wasn't used to attacking with a weapon, he thought he could make it work.

Quickly, he jumped down, landing in a crouch behind the guy, and watching as he startled and turned around, knife awkwardly held out in front of him. Tommy resisted the urge to snort; even he, who knew nearly nothing about how to fight with a knife, knew that the positions he was using was shit.

Still, he shook his head, and swung the baseball bat in his hand, before putting it on his shoulder, and tilting his head towards the guy, "boo."

"W-Who-" the man cut himself off, shaking his head, before attempting to steel his shaking body, holding the knife up higher, "leave now you fucker or-or I'll fucking stab you!"

Tommy nodded patronizingly, "of course, of course. Actually, why don't we do something else?"

Immediately, he swung the bat around, hitting the guy directly in the face, and he was knocked to the side. After a moment, he tried to steel himself, before delivering a quick kick to the guy's gut, watching as he fell to the ground.

"Really?" Tommy shook his head, "that was it? That was pathetic Big Man."

He attempted to push himself up, only for Tommy to press a foot against his rib cage, pushing him back down, "now, new rules."

Tommy leaned down, "leave people the fuck alone, and little ol' Theseus here won't have to do a thing to you again, got it?"

The man nodded frantically, wheezing as he tried to get a breath in, and Tommy sighed, pulling his foot of the man's chest.

"Now," Tommy turned away, still swinging the baseball bat, "fucking scram."

He listened to the frantic footsteps going away form him, before focusing his attention on  the person still on the ground, a couple of cuts and bruises on his face, looking at Tommy in awe. The young vigilante shifted in place uncomfortably, I thought I wouldn't have to interact with people if I became a vigilante.

"Uh," Tommy rubbed his head, "hi?"

The man looked up at him, "I-uh, I- who...who are you?"

"Ah right, I guess people don't know me," Tommy murmured, before extending a hand, "I'm Theseus. New vigilante around here."

After a moment, Tommy moved his hand slightly, and the man seemed to snap out of his daze, "ah, uh...vigilante? Why...why did you become a vigilante instead of a hero?"

Tommy snorted, moving his hand away, "frankly, the heroes are kind of stuck up and don't give a flying fuck about the poorer parts of town. I'm just helping where I can."

"Anyway," he moved away from the poor man, eyes focused on the nearby fire escape, "I've gotta go. Feel free to spread the word about lil' old me."

He scampered up the outside of it with surprising ease, considering how much gear he was carrying, though he supposed that most of it was pretty light, before turning around at the top and giving the man a one-handed salute with his gloved hand, "see ya later...actually I hope not. If I do, then you'll probably be being mugged again."

Quickly, he turned around and bolted, flying along the rooftops and marveling at the cool night air that went through his hair. Though Tommy couldn't tell, he was fairly certain there was a bright grin on his face. 

Purpled was definitely going to murder Tommy for leaving on his own, but honestly, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Yeah, being a vigilante was going to be fucking awesome.

So, I finished the art for Tommy, Drista, and Purpled. I also have pictures of Shroud and Sam too. Here:

Tommy:

Purpled (Also, it doesn't say it anywhere, but Purpled's weapon of choice is a gun and he also has a couple of knives he keeps on hand. He's more long range):

Drista:

Sam:

Shroud:

I'm not sure how good they are, but these are the designs I had in mind for each character '>'

Chapter Text

It turns out that words spreads fast. It started at just that one guy, and then Tommy would go out every night with Charlie, and then, by the fifth night, he was allowed to go out on his own while Charlie stayed back some nights to train Drista and Purpled. Sometimes, his best friends would come with Tommy on patrol, but most of the time they were working on understanding their weapons better.

Somehow, he had helped enough people in the week that, not everybody, of course, but every single time he would go out somebody would wave to him, or call out his name. It was...strange. Not getting the attention, no, getting positive attention was strange. Having people look at him, people that didn't even really know him, and say he was doing the right thing? It was...new.

That didn't mean everyone was so approving. While most of the lower income areas were happy to have someone else that cared about protecting them since the heroes weren't doing jack shit, there were still a lot of people who would give him shit for being a vigilante. Tommy had already received his fair share of 'go join the heroes' and 'you aren't protecting shit' even though he had just started. Bullshit, if you asked Tommy.

Tonight was one of the nights he was going out on his own, and he had to be honest, the most annoying part of being a vigilante was definitely getting read to go out. The suit, while protective, was a hassle to put on, Tommy would admit. It also didn't help that Purpled was sitting next to him, and though Tommy couldn't hear him say anything, couldn't even see his face, he could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of the older.

After a moment, when he grabbed the bat off of his back, Tommy groaned, rolling his eyes, "I'll be fine Purps, stop worrying."

His friends sputtered, "hey-I didn't even say anything!"

"Doesn't matter," Tommy let out a slight yawn, moving towards the door, "I've known you for nearly ten years, I can read you like a book."

Purpled grumbled again, but Tommy couldn't decipher it this time. When his hand reached the door nob, he hesitated for a moment, ears twitching as he heard Purpled begin to speak.

"You...you'll be fine, right?" he questioned, and Tommy felt his grip around the door nob tighten.

After a moment, he let out a breath, "stop worrying about it Purps."

Because he couldn't promise. Not after everything. Not anymore.

Almost immediately, he opened the door and shut it behind him, not willing for anymore awkward conversation, even if it was with Purpled. 

The hallways were narrow, and the off-white and stained carpets made annoyance bubble under his skin. Despite having been there for a few weeks, something about the repeating rooms, and the monotonous of it got under his skin, made him feel uncomfortable and trapped.

Still, he let out a breath of fresh air when he reached the roof, shaking himself slightly to let the cool night air go through his long hair. He had to admit, it was windier than it normally was, but he could deal with it. It shouldn't affect him too much on patrol.

After a moment of hesitation, Tommy bolted towards the edge that he knew had a building he could land on. Though Charlie had mostly been focused on helping Drista and Purpled, he had taken Tommy in for a couple of lessons. How to block more effectively, seeing in the dark better, and the main one, parkour.

Though Tommy was fairly athletic, and had a good amount of muscle considering how skinny he was from years of not eating properly, he had never had much practice with parkour. Sure, he could flip himself into the vents of the facility if they left him alone near one (which only happened once, by dear god was it fun to mess with them while it lasted), but he hadn't exactly had many opportunities to jump from roof to roof in his time at the facility.

And now, it wasn't like he could just shapeshift into a bird and fly over the buildings. Though Sam had tried to make most of it touch his skin, not all of it did, and there was the added factor that if he did so, someone might be able to tack him back to...whoever he was back then. Tommy didn't remember his last name anymore, and he had some vague memories of his family calling him Thomas, so that might have been his real name and he just told people to call him Tommy. He didn't know anymore, honestly.

So Charlie had taught him quite a bit of how to do parkour. How to tuck and roll to land safely on hard ground, how to land in a crouch to help prevent the shock more, how to properly propel himself. If Tommy was going to be honest, he had learned more from Charlie in the three or so lessons they did (spanning across multiple hours) than he had in the entirety of his time living at the facility.

Once he reached the edge, Tommy carefully fell backward, not wanting to push himself and give extra energy into the fall. After a few seconds of his gut plummeting as he fell, Tommy managed to tuck himself in a roll, though barely. It was still rough, and he felt his bones creak with unhappiness, but he didn't break a leg, so that was probably good enough.

After a moment of catching his breath from the fall, Tommy sped forward, uncaring of which direction he went. Unlike Charlie, who had a particular pattern he followed, though the route he took was completely randomized, Tommy pretty much just went wherever he wanted to. It was more his style to not have a route anyway. Besides, after the second day, he got Sam to give him a small tablet, a little bigger than a phone, that Tommy strapped to his wrist, where he could pull the sleeve of his hoodie over it. Though he mainly used it to pull up a map of the city so he could get back to the casino, Sam had told him that he could use it for other things, like hacking into cameras (not that Tommy knew how to hack. Honestly, he had never even attempted to learn. But, when he told Sam that, the only response he got was 'never too late to learn').

The city was silent, even in the lower class section Tommy started out in. As much as people wanted money from doing jobs down here, he also supposed a lot of them wanted to sleep sometimes. Weak, if you asked him. A little sleep deprivation never hurt anyone.

Running through the city, Tommy let out a carefree laugh. Though nothing could compare to flying, to letting the air spread through his feathers, to his dad taking him on flights on his back, showing him the world, and promising him the world too as Tommy reached out for the stars with his tiny eight-year-old hands. nothing compared to the hurt those broken promises caused him, this -running through the city, wind through his hair and in a carefree way where he felt like he could do anything- Tommy could say was a very close second.

A gunshot cut off his thoughts, and almost immediately, Tommy froze, his ears twitching from behind the mask to try and identify which way the sound came from. For a few moments, it was silent again, before a couple of other gunshots were also let out.

Tommy whipped towards it, shifting to hands and feet, determined to stop...whatever was going on there. The rest of the world didn't seem to matter at that moment, he just had to stop whatever the hell was going on there.

It was still nighttime, and even with his night vision goggles, Tommy couldn't see much. But, he slipped along the roof tops, and moved towards the sounds, the shadows disguising his form.

After a minutes or so, he came to the edge of a roof, overlooking the street, and shouts and sirens were easier to hear now, though that didn't stop him from wincing as the sound hit his sensitive ears.

After a moment, he slipped to the edge, gripping the hard bricks with his gloved hand, and tracing the indents as he tried to ground himself from the sounds. There were three police cars, the lights on top brightening up the dark street, and most of the lamps were put out, either broken or having no electricity going to them.

The cars formed a barricade around a building that he couldn't see, with the policemen standing around the outside, guns pointing at where Tommy assumed the door to be.

Carefully, he slipped over to the building, forcing himself to blend in to the shadows. It wouldn't do anyone any good if the police saw him; they'd inevitably end up going after him and whoever the guy were would probably get away. The roof of the place was dirty, and he winced as he stepped in a small puddle of dirty water leftover from the rain the previous day.

He eyed the area carefully. If he went in guns-blazing, he'd definitely make the situations worse, and that would be bad. His eye caught on one of the vent fans. It had been a while, but he could probably...

Tommy almost never got left alone, unless he was in his containment unit, though sometimes even then he would get the feeling of careful eyes watching him.

This time was no different. Apparently, some other experiment was causing a commotion in a different wing of the facility, so the scientists that were with him had to go and deal with it. They left two guards to watch him, both of wish pushed him into a corner and turned around. Tommy wouldn't be able to get out that way, so he just sat hunched into the corner.

After a few minutes of just tapping him fingers on his leg, his eyes caught on one of the vent grates, just next to him on the wall. The screws looked fairly weakly screwed in, compared to everything else in the facility, and Tommy was fairly sure he could take them out almost silently.

A smirk slowly grew on his face, and he moved over to the vent, using his fingernails to uncomfortably unwind the screws. Soon enough, the last one was coming out, and the vent cover fell to the ground with a clatter.

He dove for the now open vent, managing to worm his way in fairly easily, before he moved as fast as he could through the tight section. Behind him, he heard the sound of shouting, but paid no mind to it, turning with the vent as a victorious smile grew on his face. He wouldn't be able to get out this way; the outside vents would no doubt be screwed tighter than the inside ones, and both Purpled and Drista probably wouldn't be able to fit in here, but by god if he wasn't going to make it count.

And so, when one hour later he dropped a cup of food mush on a guard's head from one of the vents before crawling away, Tommy had to restrain himself from laughing. Revenge is sweet.

Tommy nodded. Yeah, based on how thin he was, that'd probably work here too. Still, he set his baseball bat down onto the ground near the vent; it's be a pain to bring that in with him.

After a moment, he undid the knife that was strapped to his belt, before moving towards on of the vent fans and undoing the screws that bound it to the roof. Once he was finished, he pried it off with a little effort, wincing at the grating sound that it made. He really hoped that no one heard that.

Looking down, it was a bit of a drop, but Tommy had been through worse. Carefully, he moved his feet into the pit of darkness, before taking a deep breath in and letting himself drop. Impulsively, he shot his arms out, one still holding the knife, which pierced the vent and slid down a few inches before stopping. Tommy winced for whoever owned the place; that was going to be a nightmare to fix.

Carefully, he pried the knife out of the vent, before letting himself fall the rest of the way, landing in a crouch on the bottom with a thump. After a moment, he shimmied his way down, before crawling through the vent, nodding at how easy it was for him to do so. God, this was probably going to be the only time he was thankful for how scarily underweight he was.

After a few seconds, he managed to make it to a section that had light filtering from the room below, and Tommy grinned. Experimentally, he pushed down on the grate, listening as it groaned under him. His grin grew wider, and after a moment of listening to see if anyone was in the room -which appeared to be back area, of some sort- he pushed down on it, listening as two of the screws popped out and the grate swung open, letting Tommy fall out onto the floor.

He landed in a crouch, which sent pain shooting through his legs, though he ignored it, and internalized all the curse words he wanted to say, There would be a time and a place; and neither of those were now.

As he expected, no one was in the room, and there were no windows, which Tommy let a sigh of relief at. Sniffing around, he realized it was...a bakery, of some sort? Why the fuck were people robbing a bakery? He shook his head, some people are fucking weird.

He had no doubt that it was a robbery now, based on the sounds of people whimpering, guns being loaded, and grunts from the other room. His ears twitched as one of the people -presumably a hostage- spoke.

"Ple-please! I have a family! Plea-" a gunshot cut the man off, along with someone's snicker.

The one how snickered stopped after a moment, "you think we give a fuck about that? Heroes don't care about anything down here, least of all one measly life from you. Nothing is going to stop us now."

Famous last words.

Carefully, he gripped the knife in his hand, before moving towards the door. After a second, he cracked it open, making eye contact with the guy sitting closest. He had curly brown hair and dark green eyes, and was wearing something that looked like a uniform, though it had a shark pin attached to the shirt, which didn't match with the overall theme very well. Tommy tilted his head. Probably a worker here.

Silently, Tommy gestured to the side with his head, where the guys were presumably walking around. After a moment, the guy seemed to understand, nodding, before mouthing something at Tommy slowly yet carefully, glancing off to the side every once in a while.

They're looking out front at the police.

Tommy nodded, pausing for a moment when he heard footsteps coming towards them, closing the door just a little bit so he was less visible, but could still see the guy.

Another man, bulkier, with something that looked almost like a rhino horn on his head from what Tommy could see, stalked over to them, before cocking a gun at the worker, who seemed unaffected.

"Who were you talking to bitch?" the growled, pushing the gun further into the worker's neck.

Taking this moment to spare the guy any pain, Tommy quietly pushed the door open, silently enough that the guy didn't notice and didn't turn around. His back was wide open, and Tommy grinned under his mask. Rookie mistake.

He swept the man's legs out from under him, before ripping the gun out of his hand, tossing it behind him. It landed on the door with a thump, and Tommy quickly punched the guy's gut again, before pressing his foot against his neck.

He grinned, "He was talking to me, you dick."

A glance up showed that all the other people in the room -two older guys, both with guns pointed at him- had noticed the commotion, and Tommy nodded his head forward. His fingers flexed with a need to fight.

Let the games begin.

Without giving them a chance to respond, he dove towards one of the guys, one who had small black wings draping from his back, ripping the gun straight out of his hand and flinging it at the other guy, who block it with some sort of shield. Tommy felt his interest pique at the power, but shook his head. Now wasn't the time to analyze powers.

The guy in front of him threw a punch at Tommy, who dodged, though he still got hit just barely on the side. He winced; that hurt more than he though it would.

Still, he grabbed the fist while it was still extended, flinging the guy over his shoulder where he crashed down onto the floor, head first. Tommy winced in sympathy -he knew firsthand what it was like to be in that guy's shoes, and it really wasn't fun.

Though, he hissed when a gunshot rung out and a bullet grazed the edge of his leg. It didn't go through or get stuck, but he could still feel the hot, sticky blood beginning to pour out it.

"You bitch," he muttered, be vaulting himself over one of the tables separating them, heading leg first into the guy's chest. He fell over, though Tommy pushed himself backwards before he could hit the floor, flipping backwards and landing in a clean crouch. The guy let out a groan, and Tommy kicked his side, before gauging that he wouldn't be getting up for a while.

"Well," he murmured, "that went better than expected."

Ironically, as soon as he said, that, a sharp pain shot through his body, paralyzing him for a moment, before he whipped around, ignoring the bleeding bullet would in his side.

The rhino guy from before, the one that he had thought he had taken out, was up again, and Tommy groaned in annoyance. Honestly, do they ever stay down?

Not even hesitating, he gripped onto the edge of a table, stepping on top before pushing off, and vaulting himself to a different table, the guy's next shot just barely missing him. Tommy grinned as he thought of an idea.

Standing up, he jumped to the next table, shifting to the side suddenly and just barely avoiding the bullet shot at him, "up high!"

It seems that no one but the worked guy caught on to what he was doing, though when Tommy caught his eye he winked at him, which he knew that the mask copied perfectly, and the guy almost burst out laughing. He jumped to the side, just one table away from the guy, ducking down to through him off after the last to ones.

"Down low!" he teased, before vaulting off the table like a wild animal, using all of his hands and legs, before landing right in front of the guy, and winking yet again.

"Too slow!" before he could react, Tommy ripped the gun out of his hand, before throwing it as hard as he could in the guy's face. Which, judging by the fact that the guy fell backwards, eyes closed and clearly passed out, was pretty hard.

Tommy nudged him with his foot, before shrugging. Carefully, he turned around, giving the people there a salute, "don't go getting into more trouble! I might not be there to save you next time."

Almost immediately, he ran out of the room, briefly making eye contact with the server guy from earlier again before he slipped into the back area of the bakery.

After a moment, he gripped onto the vent grate, hefting himself back in and shimmying through the vent for a little bit before he reached the same open section as earlier. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath in, made sure his knife was still fastened tightly to his belt, and put his hands and feet on both sides of the vent, before slowly going against gravity and working his way up.

A few seconds later, he was on top, and quickly grabbed his baseball bat, before leaping off the roof, taking one last look at the bakery. It was still so fucking weird that someone robbed a bakery, of all places.

Shrugging it off, he ran again, baseball bat in hand, along the rooftops. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he grinned. That was fun.

His legs and side also really hurt though. Fuck. Fucking shit. He forgot about those wounds.

Pressing a hand to his side, he winced at the amount of blood that came off. Not enough that it would be concerning compared some times in the facility, but enough that he definitely couldn't hide it. Eh, he'd get Drista to heal it when he got back, Tommy had a patrol to do.

The entire city was covered in darkness now, so as Tommy ran, he had pretty much zero idea where he was heading, whether it be further into the poorer section, or towards the richer section. He knew where the true rich section was -it was impossible to miss the giant buildings- but honestly, he had no clue beyond that. Still, he didn't bother checking his map, in stead just running wherever hr chose, randomly twisting and turning as the wind went through his hair.

After a few minutes, Tommy ended up on a relatively tall building, looking out across the entire area. A grin settled on his face, and he stood on the edge, overlooking the darkened city.

For a few minutes, it was fine, and then the wind got harsher, and he winced, turning around, only to see someone he hadn't before. Someone with brown hair, a portion of it dyed white, and a cloak covering almost his entire torso, dark blue in coloring with a few gold highlights that glittered in the moonlight. He had a blindfold over his eyes, the same color as the cloak, and several gold clasps holding the entire outfit together. In his hand, Tommy could make out a small staff.

The man tilted his head, seeming to look Tommy up and down, before he spoke, "you're a new vigilante, correct? Theseus, I believe."

That voice sounded...familiar. Familiar in a way that wasn't like someone he had seen from clips in the facility, or read about in a book, but familiar in a more...personal way. It made him shiver. Looking over the person again, Tommy sucked in a breath. He was fucked.

"Tempest."

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't sure he had ever been so tense. Not when their plan for escaping the facility was on the verge of being ruined, not when he was dissected without anesthesia, not during anything else.

He had been through so much, yet Tommy couldn't even move a muscle, staring at Tempest's blindfold.

After a moment, Tempest hummed, "glad you know who I am. You're new to the seem, and act more like a kid than a vigilante. Yet you haven't been caught -hell, you managed to stop a robbery without being caught less than an hour ago."

"And?" Tommy growled, teeth bared, "what about it fucker? You here to take me in, throw me to the police?"

Tempest held up his hands, "hey, hey, I'm not here to fight. Vigilantes are technically illegal, but as long as you aren't hurting people, I've got no technical reason to take you in until I get an order to."

"Really?" Tommy tried to hold in his surprise, before narrowing his eyes at the man, "how do I know I can fucking trust you."

Tempest grinned, "you can't."

Tensing up again, Tommy took a step back, a little closer to the edge. His eyes flicked back, looking down at the alley next to him, "then why the fuck should I stay here?"

"You don't have to," Tempest shrugged, seemingly uncaring, "but you've caught Protesilaus' attention, which is notable enough. He's interested in you, which carries over to me."

Tommy let out an unbelieving laugh, "interested in me how? Want me to join your little fucking boy-band of heroes?"

It was quiet for a moment, before Tempest slightly inclined his head, "that would be the ideal outcome."

"Yeah, well, thanks for the offer, but I'm not doing shit with you," he growled.

Tempest tilted his head, "a pity."

It was silent again for a moment, before Tommy felt the wind pick up, and the beating of wings behind him. His eyes widened for a moment, before he lunged forward, narrowly avoiding the rising form of Zephyrus behind him. The man's wings beat behind him, before he landed just where Tommy was before. It was clear he had tried to catch Tommy.

After a moment, Tommy turned, teeth bared, to Tempest, who looked slightly surprised, most likely at the fact that Tommy had managed to dodge, "you lying fucker!"

He took a step away from them again, "this is why I'm not joining you hero fucks. You think that because you're so powerful and have flashy fucking powers that you can do whatever the fuck you want!"

"Though, I have to say," he tilted his head, "I thought you were above kidnapping."

"It's not kidnapping," Tempest mused, "if you're a vigilante. We were just doing our duty bringing you in."

Tommy snorted, "trust me, I know what kidnapping looks like. Besides -didn't you say you didn't have a duty to take me in until someone explicitly told you to?"

"Either way," Tommy didn't give them time to respond, instead backing to the edge, where he could see a building just below them, "we're done here. I hope to never see you again Tempest."

Without waiting for a response, he let himself fall backward, twisting his body around so he could land on the roof below with a roll. He had to get back, and fast, though he'd also probably have to make sure that they didn't find out about Quackity and that he was at the casino. Above him, he heard their shouts of alarm, but paid it no mind, instead running as fast as he could in the general direction of the casino.

C'mon, c'mon," he murmured, hearing the telltale sign of beating wings.

On a whim, he suddenly launched himself into an alley, forcing himself to blend into the shadows. His heart was pumping wildly, and Tommy could barely hear anything else through it. Still, he tried to tame it, and his breathing. He didn't want them to notice him at all.

After a few minutes of staying there, the sounds went away. No wing beats nearby, the wind was level, he couldn't hear footsteps or breathing or anything. Though, he stayed still for a few more minutes after that, not wanting to discover that they were still there.

Silently, he let a small breath out, before moving out of the shadow, slowly making his way through the alleys as he pulled up the map on his wrist. Tommy blinked after a moment, his ears twitching as a quiet caw drew his attention.

Hesitantly, he looked up, meeting the beady black eyes of a single crow, perched above him, and staring down. Unconsciously, he shivered at the eyes, yet something in his stirred, a broken memory, pushed down by time.

Slowly, he raised a hand up and waved, still staring at the crow, "hello there."

The crow did nothing back, but Tommy still looked at it for a moment, before silently moving away, saying nothing more to the crow. As he walked away, Tommy couldn't help but shiver at the feeling of intelligent eyes staring at his back.

And thirty minutes later, as he stared at the bright form of the casino, he unconsciously flexed his fist as he thought about what had happened during his patrol. Something was happening here; something much more complex than it appeared at first glance.

All he had to do was figure out what.

Chapter Text

Tommy had ended up staying in the casino for a little bit after that. He was beginning to get restless, and everyone could see it clear as day. His patrols stopped for three days, before he decided to go out, but even that didn't stop his anxiousness and flutter in his chest.

And so, after about a week since the incident with Tempest, he had decided to go out, not as Theseus, not as Tommy, but as a stray animal wandering the streets, hoping that using his powers would snuff out the insatiable urge in his chest to go outside.

After a bit of uncertainty, he decided to go out in the form of a cat. They were known to be slightly feral anyway, and were agile enough he could get away if need be. His mind went through the structure of a cat that he had memorized when he first discovered that he needed to know organ structures, wanting to be able to shapeshift into the old family cat they had, brown with a could of white spots, which he believed was named...Harold? Henry? Something like that, he thought.

When the time came, he slipped out of the building, wearing a choker that looked slightly similar to a collar, only with the smiley face symbol of Quackity on it, and started walking down the street a bit, before slipping into an alleyway and shifting into the broken memories of his old cat that he had. The cat hopping into his lap, the black beady eyes staring at him, his rubbing a hand over the brown and white fur.

After a moment, he relaxed, feeling himself shift, before opening his eyes after about thirty seconds, and flexing his paws for a moment.

Slowly, he walked out of the alley, scampering through the streets with a careful ease. Despite not having shifted into a cat for years, his body relaxed at the for, unconsciously reminded of his past.

Soon enough, he came to a park, close to the bakery that he had saved as Theseus, he noted. The trees were large, and the grass was slightly untamed, but he thought it was perfect, carefully, curling up in the grass and letting himself sunbathe for a little while.

Yet, after only about ten minutes, he heard voices, and groaned, rolling over while his ears perked to show he was listening.

"-Niki's pastries are the best! She an Puffy did a good job teaching Foolish how to bake, I'll say," a voice, familiar yet new, echoed out. Tommy's tail curled around him in a protective way for a moment.

Another person snorted, this one obviously younger than the first, "yeah, well they didn't do a great job teaching Tubbo or Ranboo about it."

That voice was entirely unfamiliar, he noted, and after listening to them chat a little more about mindless things, he carefully stood up and walked out of the grass, walking in the general direction he had heard the voices, curious as to who was talking.

Walking next to a tree, his eyes flicked to the bench where two people sat. The older one, with brown eyes and hair, which was covered by a red beanie, was wearing a yellow sweater, sat carelessly, his phone perfectly balanced on his knee. The other, a redhead, had a jacket on, a little flag of L'Manburg sewn onto the pocket, and a striped shirt underneath. He had rather large ears on the back of his head, along with a small fox tail curling around him, Tommy noted.

The older one seemed to notice him, much to Tommy's distaste, and immediately pocketed his phone, scooting forward, 'Fundy! A cat!"

"I can tell Wilbur," 'Fundy' said, exasperation clear, "but maybe you should leave the stray alone?"

'Wilbur' pouted, "but they're not a stray! They have a collar son."

"First of all, I'm not your son Wilbur. We've been over this. Second of all, just because it's not a stray doesn't mean you should just pick up a random cat," based on the first part, Tommy would bet this was a conversation they had often.

"Screw you Fundy," Wilbur murmured, before reaching a hand forward, "hello there! Can I pet you?"

Despite wanting to lash out and hiss, to get away from 'Wilbur', some part of Tommy felt...comforted, by the man, for no explainable reason. It was strange.

And so, hesitantly, he pressed his head forward into the man's waiting hand, and let his eyes close to the soothing feeling of a hand running along his fur, his ears still perked as he listened intently.

"They remind me of my old cat you know," Wilbur murmured, "his name was Henry, and he looked a whole lot like this cat too. He was named..." the hand faltered for a moment, "named by Thomas."

Tommy tuned out the rest of the conversation, and later, when he was walking back to the casino, he finally reflected on how strange of an encounter that was.

And how familiar Wilbur felt to him. In more ways that one.

Chapter Text

In Tommy's defense, he hadn't intended to get here.

He had really just wanted to spend some time with Purpled -genuinely! They were technically supposed to be patrolling around the city right now, and were even still in their vigilante outfits, but they had accidentally gotten to the edge of the city, and the flower park that was to the side looked so nice...

It had taken a bit of poking and prodding from him, but eventually, he managed to convince Purpled to come into the park with him. Sure, they had to hop a fence to get over, but honestly, they had done far worse crimes. Literally -they blew up a fucking building just a month or two ago.

They hadn't been disappointed by the flower field, and Tommy was still slightly in wonder. Flower of different colors littered the ground everywhere, though they ended up settled just under one of the trees off to the side of it, sitting side by side staring at the stars. Idly, one of Purpled's hands picked the flowers, setting them in his lap, until he had a sizeable pile and began to weave.

Tommy didn't know what, but he was honestly to excited by the moment to care. Despite still being fairly close to the city, they could see a surprising amount of stars, which he still found fascinating. Despite occasionally being let outside to the courtyard of the facility, he hadn't seen the stars in his time there, always being let out in the middle of the day on the few occasions he was allowed.

Stars were...both a distant memory and something he held close to his heart. Despite never being let outside during night in the ten years he was at the facility, Tommy had put an effort into reading books specifically about stars whenever given the chance during their schooling lessons. Constellations, how they worked, he found it fascinating.

Stars also reminded him of his past. Each family member of his had a specific things associated with them, he knew this, and stars were one of them.

His older brother...Wilbur? Wilby? Wilbur was associated with music. With the sound of a guitar and plucked strings, of a musical voice filling his room like his own personal lullaby.

Tech was associated with stories. Myths, Greek gods, whatever you wanted to call them. With the blood and battle, yet familiar lessons and tune. A monotone voice being the comfort he needed, a familiarity in the changing world he lived in.

And finally his dad. His dad...he was probably associated with the most things. Crows, warmth, safety, wings.

But it Tommy had to pick only one to remember, it would be stars. Memories of his dad taking him onto the roof of their apartment building, and pointing out any of the stars and constellations that they could see. Usually Greek myths, but sometimes, he would just let Tommy tell him what he saw. It was familiar, the stars, and pointing them out came almost by reflex to the boy.

Tommy sat in his father's lap in the middle of a prairie, a fire and his two siblings nearby, both of which were asleep. They were going on a camping trip, as his dad wanting them to see something outside of their city.

Currently, though Tommy really should be asleep, his dad was pointing out constellations to the half-asleep child. A warm tone as he pointed out the shapes in the stars.

"That one Toms," he murmured, brushing Tommy's hair away as he used the other hand to point to the sky. Squinting, Tommy tried to make out what it was.

"It looks like a bunch of dots," he said in full deadpan. Or, at least, as much of a deadpan as a sleepy child could muster.

His dad let out a laugh, ruffling Tommy's hair, "Don't all of them? Either way, that's Orion."

He shifted, and something warm spread through the man's fingers and onto Tommy's hands, "Orion was a hunter, a great one too. A lot of things happened during his life; at one point he even got blinded! He got his sight back later though."

"In the end," his dad moved again, looking up at the sky, "Orion was killed by a giant scorpion that Mother Earth -or Apollo, depends on the version- sent to kill him. When he died, he was made a part of the constellations with the scorpion as a memorial to his death."

Carefully, he held out a hand in front of him, and Tommy watched in amazement as a few sparks came from his dad's hand, not even noticing the grunt that came from his dad. They slowly covered the stars from the constellation, before forming the image of Orion in front of them.

Gasping in awe, Tommy reached a hand out to try and touch them, trying to grasp at them, only for his dad to gently push his arm down. Tommy slouched unhappily, but obeyed, and didn't touch them.

"Orion was a hero worth putting in the stars," his dad sent a look down at him, before pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead, "and someday, I know you will too Thomas."

Purpled watched with a fond smile as Tommy excitedly babbled on about the constellations in the sky, a spark in his eyes as he recounted the information.

"And that one's Scorpios!" he cheered, pointing at one of the constellations. After a moment, he frowned, " I don't actually know much about that one, since I mostly focus on the Greek heroes. When we get back I should-"

He was cut off but Purpled placing something onto his hand. Instinctively, Tommy reached a hand up to grab it, one to be confused to feel flowers. He sent Purpled a confused look, and the alien gave a slightly embarrassed smile.

"My brother and I used to make them," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess I never really forgot."

After a moment, Tommy snicker, tackling his platonic boyfriend after a moment, "oh you cheesy bastard!"

"I know, I know!" Purpled laughed, before giving Tommy a slight shove so the boy was to his side as they laid on the ground, "laugh it up you asshole."

It was quiet for a moment, before Tommy spoke again, barely at a whisper, "Purpled?"

The other boy let out a hum of acknowledgement, absent mindedly running a hand through Tommy's hair, though he carefully avoided the flower crown.

"Thank you," he murmured, his eyes beginning to shut.

"For what?" Purpled was confused, but couldn't stop the smile that spread onto his face at Tommy's next words.

"For giving me a reason to live. For giving me a home. For giving me a family. For being there for me."

The only noise in that flower garde was the wind as the two boys sat, one asleep and the other wide awake.

Chapter Text

Tommy had been bored for a little while.

Charlie had taken both Drista and Purpled to train, it was raining out so he couldn't go on patrol, and Shroud had fallen asleep a little bit ago so Tommy couldn't play with the boy. He was strapped on things to do, and ended up just sitting on the couch as a random TV show played, trying his best to sew on the soft surface.

He was getting rather annoyed at the off-stitches, and his fingers was getting pricked much more the longer he went on. It was beginning to get on his nerves, and he was tempted to throw the fabric across the room to vent slightly.

Before he could do that, a knock sounded at the door. Grateful for the escape, he quickly set down the project, shouting out a quick 'coming!' to whoever was waiting at the door.

Hoping off the couch, he stumbled to the door, accidentally kicking the edge of the couch with his foot, and letting out a quiet hiss as he walked over to the door. After a few seconds, he hefted it open, coming face to face with Quackity's amused expression.

Pushing back his embarrassment, he tilted his head at the man, "you need something Big Q?"

"Big Q?" Quackity questioned, raising an eyebrow, before shaking his head, "just a question."

He leaned against the door frame, tilting his head at Tommy, "you don't have anything to do today, do you? Slime took your friends, and you can't go out."

"And?" Tommy questioned, a bit of annoyance at the edge of his tone. He could help it, this didn't feel like it was going anywhere.

Quackity sighed, pushing a hand through his bangs, "I was wondering if you'd like to come down to the casino with me."

Tommy leaned back, raising an eyebrow, "you do know that I've never gambled, right? I'm not going to be much good."

"Doesn't matter," he waved it away, "I just thought you'd like to see the inner workings of the building that you're staying in. But, if you'd rather stay here with no one else..."

The blond grumbled, but ended up murmuring out a quiet, "fine. Give me a second."

Stepping back into the room, he grouchily walked to his door, pushing it open with his leg, before flopping down onto the bed for a moment. After a few seconds, he reluctantly pushed himself up, before looking around the room for anything he wanted to grab before heading down with Quackity. He was already changed, he didn't need his vigilante gear...

His eyes snagged on the deck of cards that was laying on his desk. Tommy had gotten it in the facility, and had been careful to never let them out of his sight. They were a bit worn and not in the best condition, but they were his. He...Quackity was taking him to a casino, wasn't he? It would probably be useful for him to have a deck of cards with him.

After a moment, he grabbed the cards, slipping them into his jacket pocket, before walking over to the mirror, and grabbing a hairband off of the shelf next to it. Carefully, he tied his shaggy hair into a ponytail that limply fell onto his neck. Tommy fidgeted with it for a moment -he should really cut it soon.

Slipping out of his room, he saw Quackity still standing at the doorway, nodding at his appearance. The man gestured for Tommy to follow, and, albeit with a little reluctance, he did, walking through the hallways carefully.

His ears twitched as they got closer, but after a bit, Quackity pushed a door open that seemed to be a sort of backroom of the casino. Hangers and tokens were littered around it, along with a couple of compartments that seemed to be locked from the outside.

Quackity moved over to one of the lockets, before pulling out a set of clothes that was almost the exact same as his own, only red in coloring.

Without hesitation, he tossed it a Tommy, who caught it, before the man turned around, "if you wanna go to the casino, you're going to need to look the part. Can't have people getting suspicious if you walk out with me looking like that."

Hesitating for a moment, Tommy nodded, and Quackity gestured towards one of the doors, "that's the changing room. I'll wait for you out here."

Carefully, he walked in, locking the door behind him, before properly looking at the outfit.

A white dress shirt, with red overalls. Two pairs of gloves, both the same red in coloring, and a pair of brown dress pants. Hanging on top of the pants, he could see a red tie, the same color as Quackity's, and wrinkled his nose. He's probably be fine without it. It wasn't like he knew how to tie a tie anyway.

Quickly getting changed, he nodded at how it felt. Quackity probably got his measurements from Sam, because he didn't think that the man got this by chance.

After a moment, he stepped out of the room, his clothes still in his hands. Before he could say anything, the clothes were taken out of his hands and shoved into one of the open lockers by Quackity, who gestured for Tommy to follow him soon after.

He pushed open a door on the opposite side of the room, and immediately, the muffled music became five times louder. Instinctively, Tommy clamped his hands over his ears, trying to muffle the sound, letting out a quiet hiss.

Quackity waved it off, "you'll get used to it, come on."

With a glare and snarl, he reluctantly, took his hands off of his ears with a wince, before following Quackity through the door. He kept his eyes down, not wanting to deal with a bunch of stuck up assholes gambling right now.

After a moment, Quackity, tapped his chin, indicating him to look up, "c'mon, you're going to have a lot more fun if you can actually see the casino."

With a huff, Tommy reluctantly looked up, before taking a step back in slight awe.

Polished white walls, with a massive arching ceiling, looking nearly twenty feet tall. The patterned red carpet under his feet was plush, and he could see the gold accents on it all pointing towards the center of the massive room. The casino was large -Tommy could see a bar off to one section, and various gambling options littered the room, from slot machines to card games.

"Woah," he gasped, twisting his head to look around.

Quackity let out a laugh, "exactly. Follow me, I wanna show you around, maybe you'll meet some of our more prominent guests."

Still in a slight daze, Tommy followed Quackity, still craning his neck to look around, though he made sure to keep his eyes on Quackity. The man was walking towards one of the sections, where Tommy could see the bar and several tables around, people sitting at them and joking happily.

Quackity sat down at one of the bar stools, tapping the edge of a different one and gesturing to Tommy. Though he raised an eyebrow, Tommy sat down next to the man, looking at the different alcohol with a bit of suspicion.

"You do know that I'm not old enough to drink, right?" Tommy questioned.

Quackity scoffed, and Tommy swore he heard something along the lines of, "since when have you cared about laws," but couldn't be completely sure.

"I'm aware you child. We're not here for alcohol, I wanted you to meet someone," he rolled his eyes, before leaning back and gesturing to the bartender, "oi, Foolish, get over here."

The man groaned, and set down the glass he was washing, before reluctantly moving towards the duo. Tommy nearly let out a gasp, and let out a tight cough instead as he recognized the employee from the bakery. God, why did everything have to be complicated?

The guy -Foolish, apparently- leaned over the counter and adjusted his uniform slightly, tilting his head at Quackity, "what can I do for ya' boss? And tiny person I don't know."

"Foolish, my favorite employee," Quackity drawled, "how are you today?"

Foolish snorted, "don't let Sam hear you saying that. He'll beat your ass."

"True," Quackity, leaned forward, "either way, I just wanted to introduce you to Tommy here. He's a...a family friend that's staying with me for a while, was showing him around the casino."

Tommy shifted as he felt Foolish's eyes shift to him. For a moment, they appeared skeptical, before a warm smile settled on his face, and he extended a gloved hand towards Tommy, "well a pleasure to meet you Tommy."

Opening his mouth to make a reply, Tommy couldn't find it in himself to say anything, and settled for just nodding his head at the man. A part of him was glad -there was a chance that Foolish could recognize him as Theseus if he spoke.

Opting to just nod instead, Tommy grabbed Foolish's hand, before letting go and awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets. The man gave him a slight smile, before ushering Quackity off the chair, "now go you two, don't want Tommy here to not have a full tour, do we?"

"Fine, fine," Quackity drawled, before moving away.

Just as Tommy tried to follow, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to face Foolish who winked at him, before whispering in his ear, "don't worry dear old Theseus; it's not my first time keeping secrets. I work for Quackity, do you really think he would hire someone who couldn't keep a secret?"

He gave Tommy a slight shove, before turning away. He ignored the tense feeling in his chest as he nodded, and Tommy quickly speed-walked to catch up to Quackity, slipping forward and keeping in pace right next to him, silent walking along.

Quackity nudged his shoulder, "alright, we've got two more stops. One person for you to meet, and then I'm going to teach you how to play cards."

Tommy perked up at the mention of cards, unconsciously grabbing the deck he puck in the pocket of the overalls. He wasn't looking forward to meeting another person, but cards games would be fun.

Quackity led him to a different section, where he could see several slot machines and a pool table, which there seemed to be a bit of a gathering around. The man paused a little before, nudging Tommy, "the next guy isn't an employee, just a regular. Or, well, I guess he used to be an employee, but isn't anymore."

He pushed forward, making his way through the crowd with Tommy being careful to stay close behind, before making it to one of the pool tables in the back of the room. It was much clearer back there, and Tommy let out a sigh of relief of not being surrounded by people anymore.

Curious, he glanced around Quackity, only to freeze slightly. The guy was the same redhead -Fundy, if Tommy remembered correctly- that he had seen with 'Wilbur' a few days ago. Silently, he cursed his luck. Why was the world determined to make him have coincidences like this?

Quackity strutted forward, putting an arm around the guy's shoulders, "aye, Fundy! How are you my man?"

"I'm good," the guy shrugged, setting the pool stick back on the table, "you down here for an reason, or just a regular visit?"

"This here," he nudged Tommy forward, "is Tommy. He's a family friend of mine that's staying with us for a while, and I wanted to introduce him to the casino."

Tommy gave a slight wave, before slumping down again. In response, Fundy gave a bright smile, nodding his head down at Tommy, "well, great to meet ya' kid! Hope you can deal with Quackity here -just tell me if he gets too much, I'll steal you away for a day."

Hiding a snicker, Tommy lowered his head, listening as Quackity squawked in indignation, "oi! I'm fucking fabulous you furry -don't listen to him Tommy."

"Be nice to me or I'll bring Wilbur here. I know you just adore hanging out with him, don't you?" Fundy taunted, and Quackity scowled.

"You bring him here and I'm banning you from my casino, so help me. I deal with him enough as is," he grumbled, before steering Tommy away from the guy.

Slowly, they worked their way through the crowd again, Tommy uncomfortably trying to maintain a safe distance while still following Quackity. He wasn't used to being in such large crowds after so long in isolation, so it was a little...jarring for him now.

Still, he worked through it, and after about thirty seconds, they were on the other side of the crowd, and Quackity was leading him towards the other end of the casino, near the tables where he could see people playing card games. Almost instantly Tommy perked up, excited to be able to play card games, even if he didn't know the rules now.

After a second, Quackity picked a table near the center, flopping down in a chair and gesturing for Tommy to do the same across from him. A few seconds later, he grabbed a deck of cards from his pocket, tossing them onto the table, "you know how to play Blackjack kid?"

Slowly, Tommy nodded, "yeah...don't you have to play that with more than two people though?"

"In most variations, yeah," Quackity shrugged, "and we're going too. Those two over there," he gestured to two guys waiting along the edge, seeming to be looking for a challenge," they're cocky. Think that they're going to win. I'm going to invite them over, and you're going to try and win. 'Kay?"

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "you're going to rig the cards."

Quackity tossed him a sly grin, "the house always wins kid. Besides, you're going to use my money to bet anyway."

After a moment, he slipped a fifty dollar bill across the table, winking at Tommy, before standing up to offer the guys a game. As he led them over, Tommy let out a shuddering breath, gripping the money in his hand tight. He wasn't going to lose to some uptight bitches; he would win this.

By then end of the twenty games they played, both of the guys had one none of them. Quackity, as the dealer, had one three, and Tommy had one seventeen, and earned his place as an employee in the casino.

At least he had something to keep him busy during the day.

Chapter Text

One small thing can make the world flip on its head. One small thing can change the course of history.

Tommy had been doing so well. He'd started working at the casino during the day, and going out as Theseus at night. He would change into animal form and go outside sometimes, but was actually enjoying life. He got to spend time with his friends, would talk with Sam or Foolish sometimes, and even hung out with Quackity from time to time.

Of course, nothing good can last forever. Not for Tommy. Never for Tommy.

He didn't even know how it had happened. One minute he had been laying inside on the couch as his friends snored away, nearly midnight. They had been having a makeshift sleepover in the living room, as Shroud had been awoken by nightmares, and at some point, everyone had fallen asleep.

Everyone except for Tommy.

He could hear the thunder roaring outside, shaking the building as it streaked across the sky, and he winced. His mind was filled with memories, unable to stay in the moment and bringing him to the past. Normally, Purpled would hear his racing thoughts and help calm him down, as Purpled usually had similar sleep issues to Tommy. But Purpled was asleep now, and Tommy wasn't going to wake him.

"Maybe I need some fresh air," he murmured, ignoring the way that his hands shook with the rain pounding on the window.

Carefully, he pried himself away from the pile of people, walking to his room. He didn't grab his vigilante suit, leaving it to the side. Tommy didn't think he would need it. Either way, he grabbed the knife, mask and goggles. You could never be too careful.

Silently, he walked out, using the stairs to gain access to the roof. He slipped through the darkness of the casino unnoticed, no one awake enough to realize what he was doing.

As he walked onto the roof, he started aiming for the fire escape, hoping he could get onto the ground. His eyes caught a glimpse of the edge and he paused for a moment. Maybe I should just jump. I would save a lot of people the trouble.

Shaking his head after a moment, Tommy silently made his way to the fire escape, before slipping down it, and climbing to the ground. His eyes traced the stars above, wondering how nice it would be to be one of them, to not have to worry about the struggles of his fucked up life.

Silently, he wondered if they wanted to leave him too, just like he knew everyone he surrounded himself with did. Probably.

Tommy shook his head, moving it down. His feet dragged against the pavement as he walked away, catching against the loose stones that littered the sidewalk. Rain pattered against his head, and Tommy shivered lightly, before trying to tug his coat to cover more of his chest. I should have brought a heavier jacket.

Thunder roared nearby, a loud bang echoing through the area with a bright streak of light following after. Tommy flinched heavily, stumbling back for a moment and letting his back hit one of the walls behind him. He bit his lip to keep himself from letting out any sound, and quickly got back on track.

He wasn't sure how long he kept walking, not paying attention to the directions that he was heading either. At some point the buildings got a little bit nicer, at some point the constant fuzz that was from Purpled (a constant, now that they were free from the facility. It was nice having it there, even when Purpled was sleeping and couldn't actually use it) faded away. Tommy didn't know where he was, he wasn't even trying to figure it out.

At some point, he glanced up at the cloudy sky, rain still pouring, and found the moon. he blinked at it's position, noting how much closer it had gotten to the horizon. How long had he been out?

Tommy shrugged. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

He kept walking until he couldn't anymore. Until he stopped wiling himself to walk, until the moon was directly in front of him. Tommy ended up stopped in an alley, with a small overhead to block out the rain above as he sat on the small raised step that lead to the building he was next to, some sort of restaurant he believed, though he wasn't really sure.

He sat stoically, staring off into the distance. At some point, the rain stopped, though he was still dripping wet and shivering. Idly, he wondered if he would get sick from the rain. Probably.

And then, his ears twitched at the sound of voices. Voices that...reminded him. Of memories -and not the good ones.

Slowly, he came out of his haze, and tensed up at the voices, before carefully creeping further into the alley, his entire body tense with anticipation. He couldn't tell who they were just from the faint mutters, and even as he got closer, he couldn't tell how close they were without rounding the corner, and didn't want to take the chance of them seeing him.

Tommy cursed silently, before letting out an inaudible sigh. As much as he would love to shift right now, he was exhausted -both physically and mentally-, and would probably pass out as soon as he finished shifting. Looks like he just has to hope.

Carefully, he crept round the corner, slumping in relief at the lack of any people. It was tedious, stalking forward and being careful not to be heard, especially with the puddles that were everywhere with the recent rain, but he eventually made it, what he deemed at least, close enough where he could properly hear what they were saying if he focused.

Slowly, he took a deep breath in, before tensing, and leaning his head forward from the wall he was crouched next to in order to try and hear them.

"-don't give a damn Henry! Those fucking monstrosities destroyed my worked, destroyed my pride, and I am sure that some of them tried to escape to this hellhole of a city! You haven't even gotten any of the goddamn chemicals we need to subdue X-02!" at that voice, Tommy tensed up, his eyes widening. No. Please no.

"Dr. Marcus, I'm sorry, but my men are looking everywhere at the moment. Please, they're trying their best!" another man, this one that Tommy didn't recognize, spoke.

The first man -Dr. Marcus, Tommy knew both from context and memory-, spoke again, "well clearly they're not doing good enough of a job. You know what, I'll be generous. You have a month. Find them all, dead or alive."

Footsteps sounded closer to Tommy, and he took a step back, before Dr. Marcus spoke again, "actually, there are three I want alive. I'm not sure if all came here, but you have their files, and if you see them, bring them to me. If I find out you kill one of them, one of my masterpieces, you'll end up a bloody carcass stuffed into a barrel and floating down the ocean. Do I make myself clear?"

Tommy didn't stick around to hear the response, instead bolting down the alley again, his eyes wide with fear. His hands -no. his entire body shook rapidly, and tears streaked down his face, though they were hidden by the mask and goggles.

He didn't know what was happening, focused on pushing the memories out of his head and getting as far away from there as possible. Tommy gripped his hair, tugging on it as he ran and ran, no longer caring where he was going. His feet pounded against the ground, and water stained the cuffs of his ankles as he ran through puddle after puddle, though Tommy couldn't find it in himself to care.

After a while, he ended up in another alley, not sure at all where he was, curled up into a little shivering ball, both from fear and cold. His rocked back and forth, unconsciously mumbling into his knees as tears spewed from his eyes. He hiccuped as memories flung themselves through his head, memories that he had spent a long time trying to cover up, trying to forget.

Tommy was strapped down to a table, only nine years old. His limbs felt weak, and he whimpered lightly at the muzzle that was keeping his mouth shut.

Someone moved next to him, before leaning over the table, towering above the small boy who stared up with fearful eyes. The man wore a surgical mask, and had black, very short hair, with burning green eyes that seemed to stare into Tommy's soul. He shivered.

The man seemed to smile, though Tommy couldn't help but feel as though the man had the look of a predator, the look of someone who knew exactly how much this was going to hurt.

"S-264," he started, dragging a gloved finger along Tommy's forehead, "you've resisted the last two surgical attempts. Well, it's finally here. Aren't you excited?"

Tommy whimpered, trying to shrink back, though the man only pressed down harder with his fingers, "normally, we give our patients anesthesia to make them more easy to work on during this. But you've been bad recently, haven't you? You hurt a lot of people."

He leaned in closer, "you don't need anything to numb the pain, do you? You can just say it if you do."

Tommy struggled against his chains, trying to speak with the muzzle on, trying to get out of it, only for a high pitched whine to come out instead. The man let out a laugh at the response, leaning back.

"I'm so glad S-264! I'm Dr. Marcus, and I do hope that you're good for this. Maybe I'll even give you a lollypop afterwards!" he picked up something that looked similar to a knife, a blade of some sort, and brought it close to Tommy's torso.

After a moment, he glanced up, smiling at Tommy, "good luck."

The moment the knife hit his chest, Tommy tried to shift away, a blood-curdling scream building up in his throat. But the cuffs held him down, and the muzzle kept it from being two loud, though it couldn't hold it all back. The knife kept working its way through his skin, and Tommy kept trying to scream, trying to plead with Dr. Marcus, trying to get away.

Soon enough, he started to black out, the darkness invading his vision already. But then, the pain stopped. The knife stopped moving, there was no sound. And For a moment, for one painstaking glorious moment, Tommy hoped that it was over. He pleaded that he had survived the pain even as a portion of his skin lay cut open in his stomach, even as pain coursed through his torso, even as tears feel down from his eyes.

And then Dr. Marcus tsked, and a needle was brought to the bare edge of his neck, just above the collar, and pushed into his skin. Tommy wasn't paying attention to what was in it, at least he wasn't until he felt a sudden burst of energy, sudden burst of awareness, and tried to shoot up at the sudden increase in pain.

His fear-filled blue eyes looked up at Dr. Marcus, who smiled down at him, though he eyes promised pain.

"Adrenaline truly is a beautiful thing, is it not?" he purred, "you've caused so many people to suffer, S-264. I think it's only fair that you do the same, am I correct?"

Tommy had to continue to watch, continue to squirm, continue to writhe in pain, continue to sob and scream and try to get away as the knife came down on his chest again. It continued that way for so long, Dr. Marcus injecting him with adrenaline whenever he started to black out. (In the long run, that probably would have some unintended negative affect on his body. Tommy was too caught up in the pain to care)

Eventually, after an amount of time that Tommy didn't care to identify, the man ended up pulling a rib out of Tommy's torso, setting it on the table, where it was in sickeningly clear view. He watched, transfixed, as blood -his OWN blood- dripped off of the rib, staining the plastic underneath it a bright red.

He wasn't sure how many more times he was injected. He wasn't sure how many time he was sown back together, how many stitches were placed in his chest aver and over. He wallowed in the unbearable pain and prayed, hoped, that his eyes would roll to the back of his head and he would be able to leave the hell he was forced to be in right now.

Once all the stitches were in place, even with his chest sweltering in pain, Tommy finally felt his mind give up. Finally felt the pain take over, no more adrenaline in his system. His vision faded to black, but he was too tired, to exhausted to care anymore.

Tommy rocked back and forth on the pavement, his clothes soaked through from the rain and puddles he was near sitting in. His entire body was wracked with shivers, and slowly, he felt his mind give up, in a similar fashion to how it had given up all those years ago. Stress, exhaustion, all of it built up until he couldn't handle it anymore. Until he collapsed backward and let the darkness of passing out fill his vision.

And then he heard footsteps, however light they were. He didn't move, couldn't find it in himself to truly register it, but he heard them nonetheless.

Soon enough, those footsteps turned into a voice.

"Holy fuck! Athena, there's a guy about to pass the fuck out," Tommy couldn't find it in himself to figure out if he could recognize the voice, didn't even try, just let unconsciousness take over more.

"What?" a different person came over. Sound began too white out for Tommy, just as his vision was almost fully black, "is th-- --eus? --- -uck is h- --ing out --re now?"

A figure leaned over him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "hey --ere, -- -eed yo- -o st-- --ake!"

Tommy's vision faded to black fully. In the background, he thought he heard a little more yelling, but it fizzed and faded away until it got to the point that he couldn't make anything out beyond the white noise. He gave up trying, and let himself fall into the darkness.

Chapter Text

When Tommy came to again, it was slow at first, his mind slowly processing the fact that he was indoors rather than outside and still freezing. He assumed that Purpled or Drista or even Quackity had found him and taken him back, only for the memory of the two voices from the last few moments from when he was awake to enter his mind.

Instinctively, he shot up, only to wince. And so, the second thing he noticed was the he felt like absolute shit right now. Awesome, I got kidnapped and I have a cold. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Still, he forced himself to look around, despite the fact that his head felt like shit. It was...a nicer room than he though it was going to be, considering he just got picked up on the street by some random people.

Carefully, he moved from the bed he was in (why did they give him a bed?) and felt his feet hit the floor. His mask and goggles were still on, so they probably hadn't unmasked him, which was good, and he could see his jacket to the side. The scarf was also on, thank god. He didn't feel like unmasking his trauma to a bunch of strangers. He put the jacket on, before slowly moving to the side, heading for the window in the room in the hopes to escape.

Just as he reached it, he heard the door handle moving, and froze, internally waiting for the people to enter and yell at him for fucking up the nice room and wanting ot leave even after they gave it to him.

But that didn't come. Instead of a gruff adult like he had been expecting, a girl, looking about his age, maybe a bit younger, with brown hair, the front dyed a mint green, with warm brown eye, nearing a mud brick red. She had a black mask on, which seemed slightly scuffed up, and wore a white dress shirt under a black cardigan, red tie in front, and knee high boots. Tommy could see the choker she was wearing, and the bracelet and ring too.

He backed up for a moment, and watched as she blinked at him, looking startled for a moment, before smiling.

"You're awake!" she took a step forward, only to pause when Tommy curled in on himself, "you're Theseus, right? The new vigilante?"

Slowly, he nodded, "yeah. I...I am."

"Well it's good to meet you," she extended a hand forward, "I'm Athena -or, my vigilante name is Athena, but you can call me Ajax! My brother -Argentenum, another vigilante- is called Alex."

Tommy blinked. They were vigilantes, and just...gave their names out to him? Who the fuck does that? "...you just told me your real names?"

"I mean, yeah, why?" she tilted her head at him, and he sent her an incredulous look that he hoped was shown on the goggles.

"Why-" he paused, taking a deep breath in, "you're a vigilante! Why aren't you trying your hardest to keep your personas completely different?"

She shrugged, moving to sit down on the bed Tommy was in before, "I know very well that you aren't going to trust me, and I hoped telling you my real name might help soothe some of that since you'd be able to use it as leverage against me should I try and hurt you in any way. Besides, Alex and I..."

Ajax paused, sending him a look, "...we've pretty much only got ourselves, Pixel, Arso, and Warlock. It's helpful to have as many allies as you can get out here."

"I'm not going to stop you from leaving," she leaned back, "but I don't want to be your enemy here. Even if we can't be friends or allies, I hope we can at least be neutral towards each other."

Tommy glanced at the window. It was tempting -so, so tempting to just open it and jump out now, but quite honestly, his head felt like shit, and he was fairly certain he'd end up passing out on the way to the casino. He was starving, exhausted, sick, and thirsty, and the idea of seeing Dr. Marcus again made him shiver with fear.

And so, slowly, he moved away from the window just a bit, not making eye contact with her, "I'm not...I can't tell you my real name. But...but you can can me Theo, if you want."

Ajax smiled, standing up and moving to the door, "alright Theo. Do you want breakfast? I believe that Alex is making it right now."

"That..." he paused, looking away, "that'd be great."

And so, he slowly followed her downstairs. Tense, not sure whether or not he was making the right decision, but following her nonetheless.

*BONUS*

Tommy slowly took a sip of the drink they gave him -coffee, he believed they said it was?-, only to immediately perk up, blinking the tiredness almost immediately away from his eyes. That had given him a burst of energy, one that he wasn't used to happen.

Slowly, he looked over to Alex, who laughed at the look at his face, "what, you've never had coffee before? It gives you energy."

"I think I'm in love with it," he murmured, taking another sip.

Ajax laughed, stabbing her toast with a fork, "yeah? How much do you love it Theo?"

"I would kill for more," Tommy calmly took another sip of it, not even reacting to the sputtering around him as they processed what he said.

Purpled would probably kill Alex and Ajax for giving him access to this, as it would probably end up fueling his bad sleep habits, but honestly, Tommy didn't care. And also, he probably was scarily close to telling the truth when he said he would kill for it.

That stuff was fucking good.

Chapter Text

Once breakfast had been finished, and Tommy got a to-go cup filled with coffee so that he could survive the rest of the day, Alex insisted on taking him to meet the other vigilantes. Part of Tommy was wanting to get back, to be able to curl into Purpled's arms and sleep, to have the comfort of his best friend and partner, but the company of the twins...it wasn't awful, he had to admit. They were...they were nice, if a bit eccentric, but...but it was a nice change of pace, after getting so used to the quiet companionship of his friends.

And so he went along with it. let them take him to meet up with their friends as they told him a little bit more about what they did.

"We're vigilantes for the medium wealth areas of town," Ajax explained quietly as they made their way through the city. It was roughly ten, so most people were probably at work right now, which gave them mostly free reign when walking around, "well, except for Arso. they're probably the most wild person I've ever seen, and go in all districts, including the rich ones with heroes. They're very good at pissing of the heroes, I must say."

Tommy snorted, "I'll have to get some tips. I had a bit of a Tempest problem recently, went a little to far into the hero domain accidentally."

Alex winced, "yeah, that sucks. He used to be such a chill dude to, at least from what I'm told. Apparently he got all cold a few years ago, nobody in the public really knows why."

"We don't really deal with heroes as much as Arso does. Pixel deals with them sometimes, but mostly stays away, and Warlock is impossible to find if he doesn't want to be found. It's creepy," Ajax butts in, before turning to Tommy, "you'll also probably meet Livia. She's...she's a bit skittish, usually stays with either Warlock or Pixel, it varies on the day. She's been staying with Warlock recently though, so be prepared for her to panic when she sees you."

Tommy nodded idly. He was no stranger to panic, hell, he had experienced it many times himself. Besides he wasn't...he was exactly the nicest person to look at. He rubbed a hand over his cheek where, under the mask Alex and Ajax had lent him and a bandaid, he knew that the brand sat. He knew his eyes had long lost their spark, taking on a duller and more frightening look, knew that they sent a judging look to every person he had ever met, only softening around his friends. He knew just one look at his neck, at the mottle mess of scars it was could terrify anyone. He knew that the amount of scars that littered his body wasn't normal, that he should be able to get a normal amount of sleep and eat a healthy amount with ease. He knew that, but quite honestly, didn't give a fuck.

He shivered slightly. Ajax had given him some medicine to help with his sickness before they left, and the sickness was already mild as it was, but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable. Fuck the rain; why'd he have to go out last night of all nights? He tightened the jacket around his thin body.

"We're almost there!" Alex said in a bright voice, suddenly breaking into a sprint and running ahead. Ajax sighed fondly, sending a look to Tommy.

"Do you want to walk the rest of the way and not look like dumbasses?" Tommy nodded, and she sent him a smile, gesturing for him to follow her.

Ajax led them around back of a run down and degrading building, which seemed to almost be an apartment building if he was reading it correctly. He wondered why they met up here, before realizing it was probably the cheapest place they could find. So is the life of a vigilante, he supposed, Doesn't exactly pay well.

Either way, she walked towards the end, eyeing around for a moment, before looking up to a window that Tommy could see Alex's feet being pulled through. he snorted, before turning his attention to Ajax, who was working her way up the rickety set of wood and boxes that was set up just below the window. She squirmed her way up, taking a few seconds, before eventually grabbing the window ledge and hoisting herself up, letting out a sigh of relief. Ajax pulled herself fully inside, before opening the window a bit more and leaning out.

"It looks a bit rickety, but it should be fine," she paused as it creaked under the wind, before sending him a sorry smile, "hopefully."

Tommy rolled his eyes. He didn't really feel like falling on that thing today, even if he would make it, and quite honestly needed to shift anyway. Looks like he was doing this then.

"Just back up, trust me," he murmured, not bothering to check if she did so, only hoping. He climbed the pile a bit, about five feet off the ground, before jumping, pulling at the familiar form of a crow, smiling a bit to himself as he thought about his Dad. Still, he had something to do, and managed to fully shift just before he hit the ground, pulling up quickly, and curling around the wall of the opposite building, before entering the window like a torpedo.

He flapped his wings a bit, and internally smiled at the gasps of awe and startled sounds that echoed from the room. Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, before shifting back, his knees crouched down as he squatted in the center of the room, surrounded by people.

He only knew two of them; Ajax and Alex, though there were... He counted in his head, four other people here who he didn't now. Cautiously, he waved, falling back into a sitting position, "hey."

"You can shapeshift?!" Alex immediately burst, somehow appearing right at his side, "is it just to a crow, or is it any animal? Why don't you use it one patrol? That seems like a pretty useful power, though I guess it would be pretty recognizable... Why-"

"Alex!" Ajax cut him off, dragging him away from Tommy, who gave he a grateful look, "don't swarm Theo!"

"Not to cut in," one of them, with short brown hair and brown eyes spoke up, "but who is he?"

Ajax sent him a look, and Tommy shrugged nonchalantly, "sup. I'm Theseus, but you can call me Theo until I decide to tell you my real name."

Someone else, with curly brown hair, though the front was dyed yellow, and bright green eyes spit out the drink they were drinking, "you're Theseus?"

Tommy paused, "uh, yeah?"

"Dude, you became like, a living legend here overnight. How'd you manage to become so popular in literally a week??" another person, with brown hair tied into a ponytail, a red and orange streak, one on each side of their head, lead into it. they leaned forward, staring at him in almost awe with two dark red eyes, "I mean, sure, I'm on edge of being considered a villain by the public and in the eyes of the government -not because of arson, shut up Ai-" they paused, "Warlock-, but Athena over there is literally the most likeable person ever!"

Tommy shrugged, "did a lot of stupid things, beat up a lot of guys, and made an up-high down-low too-slow joke in a bakery, I guess. I think that trauma is what makes me funny."

"Oh I feel you, I feel you," they nodded their head, sitting across from them.

"I'm assuming you're Arso judging by the mention of arson?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

They nodded, "Which I have never done, but yup!" They popped the 'p', sending him a smile.

"Uh, should I send Livia out of the room while we do this?" the guy from before but in, and ah, that must be Warlock, "normally she can stay in, but I'm not sure if she wants to meet a new person right now?"

He turned around, as if looking at someone, and Tommy tilted his head, leaning a bit to look at who was behind him. He blinked as he saw a little girl, around Shroud's age, with bright red hair and blue eyes. Tommy opened his mouth to say something, before shutting it abruptly, realization coming to him.

Hadn't there been a little girl in the facility who looked exactly like her, was around the same age, and had the ability to turn invisible? Tommy didn't know, but it...it was too much to be a coincidence, right? The girl had always been so timid in the facility, Tommy wasn't sure if it was her, but she acted a lot the same. How could he...

She stared at him, and Tommy watched as they made eye contact. That was familiar. Even in the facility, when she was so young and they never really interacted, they had been together on a couple of occasions. The girl had been friends with Shroud, and as such, they talked a bit, and Tommy knew her voice. All he needed was for her to speak, that would make him sure, he knew it...

"S...S-26...64?" she murmured, taking a tentative step forward.

Tommy's eyes softened, even as he internally tensed up at the name the facility had given him, "good to see you again. Glad you did actually make it out."

Almost immediately, she disappeared, and Tommy prepared for the impact of her slamming into him. A few seconds later, she did, and Tommy let out a small huffing laugh as the small girl curled around him, burying her face in his neck.

"You...you got out...how? I...Is Shroud...?" she trailed off, and Tommy patted her on the back.

"Shroud is fine, don't worry. I'm sure he'd love to meet you again," he murmured, before looking up.

He sighed as he saw the astonished looks of the vigilantes surrounding him. Ajax was the one to open her mouth, but Tommy cut her off with a hand, "continue about your business as normal. I'll get Livia to sleep, and then I'll explain. At...at least what I can right now."

And that's what they did. Tommy went to a corner of the room, still holding Livia, and gently coaxed her to sleep, idly listening to the conversations of the vigilantes around him. He knew they kept looking at him in slight awe, not yet understanding the situation.

I'm not even going to tell them a sixteenth of the horrible shit that went on in the facility, but they're going to act as though it's the worst thing in the world. He though idly to himself, still holding Lidia.

About thirty minutes after Lidia started clinging to him, she fell asleep, and Tommy carried her to the couch in the room, setting her down, before moving and sitting down in the circle of vigilantes, looking between them for a moment, before sighing.

"I'm not telling you much. I...I can't. It's too recent, to fresh still," he paused, sending a glance to Lidia.

"This is for her sake," he murmured quietly to himself, before steeling his body language again, "there's a...facility, out far away from here, that both Lidia and I were. It's a downright horrible place, but I'm not getting into the details here."

Before he could continue, Warlock raised his hand, and Tommy sighed, pointing at him, "how...how bad is it? You don't have to say what's going on in there, but...how bad?"

Tommy gave him a deadpan stare, "they kidnap children anywhere from 1-10 years old. People will sell them their children they don't want, and have even taken in new-born babies that were born there. They want to make you into the perfect weapon."

"Long story short, Lidia escaped..." he paused, ignoring the looks on their faces after what he just said, "three? Four years ago now? Something like that. My friends and I escaped earlier this year. That's all you need to know unless Lidia decides to tell you more."

He stood up, and backed towards the window, turning around. He paused before he reached it, "if I find out that you've told anyone about the facility and what we went through, or that you're trying to look into it more, I will personally come and take you down. It's none of your business, the past is the past. Don't butt into other's affairs."

He stepped onto the window ledge, before sending a look towards Arso again, "oh, and Arso? I expect to learn your ways of taunting and escaping heroes. And not-arson. But mostly baiting heroes."

Silently, Tommy let himself fall out of the window, shifting into a crow again and flying away. He didn't listen anymore, not wanting to know what they were talking about. Not anymore.

And so he flew off, his beau. Not quite comprehending what he just spilled to a bunch of people. He felt panic seed in his chest, and a familiar tug from the bond that appeared in his head.

And so flies away, unaware of the domino he set in motion. He flies searching for his other half, for the only person who was there for him through all of it.

Chapter Text

Purpled is furious when Tommy finally gets back to the room in the casino. He’s screaming and crying and yelling. He’s begging Tommy to stay, begging Tommy not to leave him, telling him not to abandon him like everyone else.

All Tommy can do is offer hushed whispers and reassurances that he can’t give. Because all he can think about is Dr. Marcus and what he just revealed. Because all he can think about is how taking out the facility might not have been as one and done as they thought.

Once Purpled finishes crying, he finally looks at Tommy. And then all Tommy can hear are startled cries and worries, and he feels the poking and prodding from his friend. 

All he does is bury himself in Purpled’s neck, tears falling down his eyes.

“I saw Dr. Marcus, Purpled. That’s why I didn’t come. Back, I panicked and ran. The facility might not be as done as we hope, and that,” he lets out a sob as Purpled shushes him, pushing them both down to the couch, “that fucking scares me Purp. I don’t-“ he cuts himself of with another sob, “I don’t know what to do anymore!”

He curls into Purpled’s lap, “I barely made it out the last time we had to fight them. The last time I had to see them.” He shivers at the thought of the scientists, Dr. Marcus included, that made life at the facility turn into a living hell.

Purpled puts a hand through Tommy’s hair, attempting to soothe his partner, “Toms- Tons it’s okay.”

It really wasn’t though. How could any of this be okay? Tommy had just met his abuser again (one of three, he reminded himself, shivering), had heard his voice, heard his scheme, heard the venom again. That man was the reason Tommy had lost hope in his family, lost hope in himself. He had tried to make Tommy lose hope in Purpled’s too, but that one hadn’t worked. Thankfully.

“I-I-I can’t d-do this again Purpled!” He cried, his fingers digging into his palms. He ignored the blood that stained his nails, but it didn’t seem Purpled would.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He carefully pried Tommy’s fingers away from his palms, “c’mon, I need you here with me for this to work. What’ll help you?”

This was a common routine between them. Tommy would be panicking, and Purpled would ask how to help. Back in the facility it was different. If Tommy asked for constellations to remind him of his dad, Purpled would use his scales to make up new ones. If Tommy asked for Greek Mythology to remind him if Tech, Purpled would make up stories where they were the heroes. If Tommy asked for music, Purpled would make one from memory, would hum to Tommy. If Tommy asked for cards, they would play cards if Tommy had them with him, or they would pick up random objects and assign each on a number, creating their own card games using them.

What did he need now though? Stars didn’t seem right, they reminded him of the night yesterday, of the horrible night. Greek mythology was to gory right now after such and old wound being torn open and left to fester.

Cards didn’t feel right, it was too on the nose for this situation. Music? Music felt right, but also…wrong.

He didn’t want to hear music from someone else, didn’t want to hear an orchestra or even just humming. He wanted a guitar, wanted to hear his brother’s strumming through the halls as he plucked on his guitar, letting Tommy come and watch him, before guiding the boy to play on his own.

Tommy didn’t want to hear a guitar, he wanted to play a guitar.

“Music?” He slurred as tears slipped from his eyes.

“You want me to hum?” Purpled asked, making sure, and Tommy shook his head.

He mimicked the position of your hand when playing guitar. Purpled paused in realization, “you want to play music?”

“Re-r’min’s me o-of Wil-‘ilby…” he managed to get our through his tears, his thoughts still overwhelming.

“Okay, okay,” Purpled soothed, before speaking in a quiet voice, “fuck, how do I get a guitar?”

After a moment, “Dris?” 

Tommy blinked as he realized she was in the room too, before his vision became foggy again, his breathing labored.

“Yeah?” She called, eager to help from the other side of the room.

“Go down to Sam’s lab right now. I’ll meet you down there in a bit. Ask him if he has a Guitar:  or anything similar,” he nudged Tommy, trying to get him to stay at least partially aware. The younger gave no reassurance that he heard Purpled.

“I got it!” she cheered, slipping over the couch and out the door. Tommy barely noticed it.

Purpled nudged him, trying to lift him off the couch, and managing to do so without Tommy falling, though barely, “alright, alright, c’mon bud. Let’s hope that Sam has something. Or, at least knows where we can get a guitar.”

Slowly, Purpled managed to get him out the door, through the hall, and into the elevator. Thankfully, the elevator gif go straight to Sam’s lab, granted you had a keycard with authority to go there. Which they had been given after the first few visits.

About five minutes after he left their room, Purpled managed to get him into the lab. Wordlessly, Drista picked up Tommy’s other side, giving Purpled a temporary reprieve from the strain of holding Tommy fully upright.

They set Tommy down on a chair. Act to one of the tables, standing close to each other as they waited for Sam to come over. 

“Apparently, he says he has his friend’s old guitar around here. Said it brought back bad memories to the guy,” Drista murmured to Purpled. Honestly, he didn’t give a damn where it was from as long as Tommy got what he needed.

A few minutes later, and Sam came out, dusty guitar in hand.

“Sorry that took a while,” he paused taking in Tommy, “I haven’t gotten this thing out in years.”

Purpled extended his hand, “give me it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Sam did, and Purpled carefully w  as ones over to Tommy, kneeling down in front of him.

“Here Toms,” he murmured, slowly placing the guitar in Tommy’s grip, “ a guitar, just like you asked for. Do you like it? You can play it if you want.”

Purpled’s words were calm and careful, and slowly, Tommy shifted up. After about a minute, there was the gentle pluck of strings as Tommy started slowing coming back to reality. After five minutes, a tentative smile grew on his lips, and after eight, it was full blown, showing teeth. A gleam in Tommy’s eyes that had gone out long ago almost seemed to be back. He laughed with exhilaration at the scene, the only thing missing his brother.

He noted his familiar the guitar felt, his there were small indents in the wood where his hands were, about in the size of small fingers. He noted how two hand prints were painted on the otherwise clean and pristine guitar. He wondered why someone would give it up.

It was so familiar. He just had to find the last piece to get the ball rolling. Tommy was sure if it.

He was so close.

Later that day, he found the guitar in his room, with a note on it.

Keep it. I don’t need it, and it suits you.

Chapter Text

Tommy's day had started off as normal.

Wake up at three in the morning from a nightmare, lay in bed for three hours, before finally getting up and dragging himself to the kitchen, still half-asleep. Purpled was the only one awake at the time, giving him a vague nod of his head as he idly read through the book on the counter. Tommy had sent him a slightly strained smile, before making coffee, much to Purpled's slight despair and appreciation. As much as the other was really hating Tommy's new sleeping habits, he couldn't deny that it helped after nightmares.

Once Tommy was done, strumming a bit on the guitar Sam had given him (which Tommy had taken a very quick liking too) as he planned out a couple of patterns to see, his favorite of which being a new scarf, so that he wouldn't have to wear Charlie's all the time. He was curious as to how it would turn out, but by the time he had a couple of ideas down on the paper, Tommy was already antsy, fidgeting and furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to make himself focus on the paper. After about five minutes of trying, he gave up, setting it down on the kitchen counter top and giving Purpled a hug, burying his head into the other's shoulder.

"I wanna go fr' a walk," he mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the way Purpled's hair rubbed against his face, "ya' wanna come with?"

In lieu of a response, Purpled nudged him slightly, and Tommy smiled, giving him a tight squeeze, before standing up and retreating to his room to get ready. Idly, he recognized Purpled's footsteps as he retreated to his own room, but paid it no mind.

He didn't grab much; a small bag that he put the knife Sam had given him, a pair of power-restraining cuffs, the money from his latest paycheck from Big Q, the phone that was given to him by Sam (which had a symbol on it that Tommy didn't recognize at first, but after asking Sam, discovered it was apparently the symbol that the public had given to Theseus, Atalanta, and Orpheus after discovering that they were a team. He had said it was a great way to expose themselves, and Sam shrugged, before shoving a black case at him, telling him he could switch it out with the clear one at any time), and a couple pieces of paper, with a pencil stuffed into his pocket. His sleeping clothes were tossed onto the bed, swapped out for a pair of jeans, a gray collared shirt, with a dark blue sweater over top of it. Tommy idly tied his hair into a loose ponytail, not even bothering to sweep back the loose strands that fell to the side of his head, glancing at himself in the mirror.

His right hand traced the brand on his cheek, before moving down his chin and dragging a finger across the rough skin of his neck, wincing at the reddish colored scar that sat there from the countless shocks and burns he had received from it at the facility. Sighing, he grabbed the green scarf, with he had draped over the chair in his room, and tied it nimbly around his neck, fiddling with the strands on the back, before swiping a bandaid from the container, lid laying half across it, that he had placed on his desk, and pressing it over the brand on his cheek.

Tommy looked in the mirror again, smiling as he made sure that his scars weren't visible, before wincing at he looked into his own eyes, which were much duller than he thought most people's were. At least, most people who hadn't gone to the facility.

"Hey Purp?" he had asked, a few years in to his stay at the facility. The other boy hummed in recognition as he looked up at the sky from the courtyard they were in. He was laying there, Tommy looking wearily into the puddle that was there from the rain that had happened the previous day.

He paused, hesitating for a moment, "did...did my eyes looked different when we first came here? They look...weird now."

Purpled glanced over to him, gesturing after a moment for Tommy to come closer, to which the other boy obliged. He hummed, running a hand down Tommy's cheek and stopping just before the collar, before glancing up at his eyes again.

"I...yeah," he murmured quietly, "but I think everyone's eyes loose their spark after about a year here, don't you think?"

Tommy looked up at the sky, glancing at the few clouds there were today, "yeah."

After a moment, he shook his head, grabbing the bag and swinging it over himself, feeling it bounce three times against his right hip. The strap wound tightly around his chest, and he shifting uncomfortably for a moment, before shrugging. It would do for now.

Carefully, he made his way out of the room, shutting the door behind him, before making his way to the kitchen, where he could see Purpled already waiting for him, the same book he had been reading earlier still in his lap. He glanced up when Tommy entered the room, sending him a smile, and Tommy noted the unzipped purple hoodie a black T-shirt underneath, and his dark blue jeans rolled up to just below his knees. The familiar purple beanie he wore covered his antennae, and Tommy could spy the gloves, red scarf (which he had stolen from Tommy), and surgical mask all covering his scales. He didn't really have much other than that, though Tommy could see the edge of a pocket knife sticking out of his back jean pocket.

He rolled his eyes for a moment, before waving back. Quietly, he moved towards the kitchen counter, grabbing the pencil out of his pocket, and grabbing the notepad he knew Purpled was using for...something. He hadn't actually asked yet.

Ignoring Purpled's protests, he tore out a blank page, scribbling in his, quite frankly, horrid handwriting that they were going out so that Shroud and Drista would know where they were, before tossing the notepad back to Purpled.

"C'mon you alien fuck, if we're in here much longer I might explode," Tommy teased, moving towards the door.

Purpled let out a suffering sigh, setting his book and notepad down, before sprinting slightly to catch up with Tommy, who was already halfway out the door. He shoved Tommy with his shoulder, "fuck you Batman."

Tommy let out a startled laugh, choking on his spit for a few moments as he locked the door, "Batman? How the fuck am I Batman?"

"Horrible at taking care of himself," he shrugged, "a vigilante that goes out all the time for no discernible reason, and scares the living crap out of every criminal he takes down."

"Hey!" Tommy protested, "I can take care of myself, I just don't. And besides, that one guy I fought, like, two days ago wasn't afraid."

Purpled paused for a moment, turning to him as they walked down the hall towards the stairs that would take them to the roof, raising an eyebrow, "which guy was that?"

"Some, uh, mercenary I think?" Tommy shrugged, "wasn't paying much attention. He kept talking weird and using 'we' when referring to himself. It was creepy as fuck. Had red eyes too, like a fucking...I don't know -demon or some shit? His entire color scheme was red."

"Weird," the other murmured, before elbowing Tommy, "well, c'mon. I want to go on a walk, and we're not about to spend the entire time talking about vigilante acts."

They had made it up to the roof hatch by now, for which Tommy was thankful, and he shoved it open, stepping out onto it with a sigh, shaking himself. Purpled stepped out behind him, setting a hand on Tommy's shoulder as he steeled himself, "remind me again why we don't use the bottom entrance?"

Tommy shrugged, "it's easier for people to see. Besides, this is more fun. Now come."

He moved towards the fire escape, not even bothering to climb down it normally like Purpled, and instead scaling down the outside quickly, dropping down to the ground and leaning against the wall as he waited for his partner.

"Show off," Purpled grumbled, moving out of the alley quietly.

Tommy grinned, stepping forward and linking hands with him, "but I'm your favorite show off."

He groaned, "I hate you."

"Hate you too!" Tommy replied, not even missing a beat.

They continued on their walk for a while, simple banter passing between the two familiarly as they continued, not paying much attention to where they were going at all. It was nice, after the recent...scares they had been forced to deal with. To be able to ignore it all, even if only for a few hours, was...great. He could tell Purpled was doing this for a distraction as much as Tommy was, and tightened his grip on Purpled's hand incrementally for a moment, before relaxing.

He looked around, his eyes locking on the bakery he had saved that one time. Idly, he wondered if Foolish was working there right now, or if someone else was. He had talked with the other quite a bit during his time down at the casino, and though he had never mentioned his hours, he had mentioned that he just worked there to fill in shifts for a good friend of his.

Silently, he tugged Purpled towards it, ignoring the raised eyebrow his platonic partner sent him.

"I want something sweet," he muttered, elbowing Purpled in the chest when he let out a sharp laugh.

Purpled rolled his eyes, sending him a sly smile, "course asshole'"

Tommy swatted his hand away, "I hate you so much. You know that right?"

"I know," Purpled hummed, grabbing his hand again and squeezing it.

"Fuck you," Tommy muttered, before pushing the door to the bakery open, and stepping inside.

It was nice; a quaint little place, though Tommy admitted he hadn't had much of a chance to look around the last time he was there, and had partially wrecked it, mostly the tables. He wondered how long it took them to get it back under wraps, and get everything put back together again.

He walked towards the front, sending a glance to Foolish, who was manning the orders, and was currently dealing with a customer. Silently, he dragged Purpled to the back of the line, about three people in front of them, giving Foolish a slight wave when he looked up. The obviously exhausted older gave a small wave back, before grabbing a couple pastries and making a coffee for the couple that was ordering.

Purpled nudged him, "who's that?"

Tommy shrugged, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, "Foolish. I've told you about him, right?"

"Yep," Purpled popped the 'p' at the end, "he's the guy that figured out, uh..."

He paused, glancing around the room, but Tommy just nodded, "yeah, he is. Foolish 's pretty nice."

Purpled shrugged, "I'll take your word for it. You know what you want?"

Tommy shook his head, "quite frankly, I'm going to tell Foolish to make whatever he thinks is good. I've never been here before."

"Fair enough," Purpled nodded, glancing at the board, "you have money?"

"Yup!" Tommy grabbed the bag, opening the flap, and grabbing the money he had placed there, "right 'ere."

Purpled placed his head on Tommy's shoulder, groaning slightly, "awesome. Just get me a cinnamon roll or some shit, I'm gonna go sit down."

Tommy nodded, watching as Purpled moved and sat down at one of the tables in the corner, pulling out the phone that Sam had gotten him and typing on it. He noted that the black cover was on right now, before averting his attention to the one person left in front of him in line.

It took about two minutes before she was moving away, and walking out the door, a coffee in her left hand. Quickly, Tommy moved forward, leaning on the table with a grin, "hey there buddy."

Foolish rolled his eyes, sending Tommy a smile, "what do you want?"

Tommy shrugged, "a cinnamon roll for Purp. I'll take...whatever the fuck you recommend, I guess."

Foolish nodded, grabbing a cinnamon roll and putting it in a bag, before handing it to Tommy, who set it down on the counter. He slipped over, grabbing a doughnut from the back, and also placing it in a bag, before sliding it over to Tommy.

"Cream filled," he murmured, typing into the cash register, "strawberry icing. Niki only has them on the menu cause' Tubs and I like em."

Tommy grinned, glancing at the screen. $6.76.

He flipped through the cash in his hand for a moment, before pulling out a ten and handing it to Foolish. Both of the pastry bags were grabbed by his hand, and he grinned at Foolish, "keep the change my guy."

Tommy turned around, about to take a step, and nearly running into the guy behind him, "oh- uh, sorry Big Guy."

He glanced up, freezing for a moment. Brown hair, a streak dyed white, with round glasses and chocolate brown eyes. He was wearing a sweater, and the same beanie as before. Wilbur, if Tommy remembered correctly. It was more than that though, didn't Wilbur look similar to...oh. For fucks sake, honestly, how hadn't he realized before.

Wilbur waved it off, looking up at Foolish, "it's fine kid, Jut be more careful next time?"

Silently, Tommy nodded, moving away and towards Purpled, ignoring the slight shake in his hands. Foolish, you better keep your promise that you won't tell anyone who I am.

Silently, he sat down next to Purpled, leaning on him and burying his face in the other's shoulder with a groan. Purpled patted his head with a raised eyebrow, "something wrong?"

He moved his head just enough so Purpled could see his eyes, "you see the guy at the front of the line?" when Purpled nodded, Tommy continued, "that's Tempest."

Silence for a moment, before Purpled groaned too, grabbing his cinnamon roll from the bag, "man, fuck our lives."

"Truly," Tommy agreed, before pausing, and glancing at them, specifically, where Tempest had moved to talk next to a woman with pink hair, tied up in two buns with strands lining her face. Niki, he remembered from how Foolish had described the owner of the place, and...Nemesis? Truly, fuck my life.

"You think I can find out what they're talking about?" he muttered to Purpled, glancing at his friend.

Purpled glanced up, looking around, "there's a water fountain near them. Go get some, see if you can find anything out."

Tommy nodded, grabbing his doughnut and taking a bite first. He nodded; it was god, Foolish was right.

Quickly, he set it down, nudging Purpled's shoulder as he stood up, before moving to the water fountain, where there were two guys in front of him. Awesome, gives me more time to listen.

His ear twitched as he tried to make their voices out, which wasn't too hard as it wasn't too loud, but they were talking fairly quietly.

"-eed to visit more. I've been a bit, uh...preoccupied," Tempes- Wilbur rubbed his neck.

Niki shrugged, "it's fine. You, uh....it's coming close to when he was taken, right? You...you doing okay?"

Wilbur deflated, "he-Niki I miss him. Techno and Phil...they both keep telling me he's dead. I....I want to believe that he's alive. That my brother is alive. I really want to, but...it's been nine, almost ten years Niki. I've gone through every source I could find, and just...nothing. He just...disappeared. I'm still looking -I don't...I don't think I'll ever be able to give up, but all the trails are running dry Niki, and Techno and Phil gave up a few years ago."

Tommy diverted his eyes. A dead brother, huh? A pang of guilt settled in Tommy heart as he moved forward, one person left between him and the water fountain. He felt for the hero, for as angry as he was at him for nearly wrecking his shit that one time.

Niki patted his arm, "it's...I'm sorry Wil. Thomas was a good kid. What was the date he got taken again?"

"Why?" Wilbur murmured.

"Because I'm going to come to your apartment and stop your ass from doing anything you might regret, obviously," she rolled her eyes, "why else? the only time that it's worse for you is his birthday, and lord knows I remember what happened this year when that happened."

Wilbur winced, "I...wasn't in a great headspace. January 12th, by the way. That's when he was taken."

Tommy tuned out their conversation for a moment, tapping on the side of the water fountain as he turned it on for a few seconds. That felt...familiar. Familiar in the same way that it had been the first time he heard Wilbur's voice, the way he felt more at ease around the hero when he met him as a vigilante then he should've. Familiar in the way that the guitar seemed to perfectly fit his hands, in the same way that stories, cards, and guitars did.

He turned around, not bothering to lurk for more information. Thomas, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, January 12th. Thomas, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, January 12th.

He sat down, crossing his arms on the table as he glared in front of him at the chair across. Purpled raised an eyebrow, "something wrong? You find something out?"

Thomas, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, January 12th. Thomas, Techno, Phi...

Tommy froze, before speaking in a low voice, "Purpled, when were taken again?"

"Uh," he paused, squinting, "mid January, I think? Like...8th-18th roughly? Why?"

"Nearly ten years ago," he muttered, pieces beginning to click into place, "and what were my brother's names again?"

Purpled gave him a strange look, "why are you asking me? You know them better than me."

"Just answer the question," Tommy snapped, putting his head into his forehead, feeling for the oncoming headache.

"Tech and Wilby were your nicknames for them I believe," he tilted his head, "though Wilby probably stood for Wilbur or something similar, like, I don't know...William?"

"Thomas, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, January 12th," he muttered, grabbing his doughnut and Purpled's arm with a urgent look, "grab all your stuff, we need to talk about something."

"Uh, okay?" Purpled tilted his head, but grabbed the trash left on the table, throwing them in the can on their way out.

Tommy lead them towards the park, the same park where he had first met Wilbur, before sitting down on the bench, knees held up to his chest, quickly eating the rest of his doughnut. Purpled sat next to him, a confused look on his face, but a hand on his back nonetheless.

Once he was done, Tommy took a deep breath, "so, there might be a slight problem."

Purpled raised an eyebrow, "does it have to do with the random questions you were asking me?"

Tommy nodded, glancing around for a moment to make sure that they were alone, before leaning into Purpled and letting out a suffering sigh, "Purpled, Tempest- his, his real name is Wilbur. I met him when I was out as a cat, but didn't make the connection that he was Tempest until today."

"Alright," Purpled nodded.

"The girl he was talking to is Niki- the owner of the bakery, and also the hero Nemesis," Tommy pushed further.

Purpled winced, "this is already getting complicated."

Tommy snorted, "you don't even know half of it yet, trust me."

"Anyway," he continued, "apparently, Wilbur had a brother who was taken. He wants to believe that he's still alive, but it's been nearly ten years. His brother's name is Thomas. He's the only one in his family -with two other people name Techno and Phil- who still believes that Thomas is alive. This came up because the anniversary of Thomas' disappearance was coming up, which took place on January 12th. Do you see the problem here Purpled?"

Tommy could see the moment that it clicked in Purpled's brain, a slightly horrified look coming onto his face, "Your name is Tommy. You were taken away from your family nearly ten years ago, and you had a brother named Wilby, probably Wilbur or William, a brother named Tech, and a Dad. We were taken in mid January. Holy fuck Tommy, you’re  a kid who was pronounced dead and your family had a hero in it. You're a fucking vigilante."

Tommy paused, "it gets worse. Tech had pink hair and red eyes, if I remember correctly from when I was taken, and my dad had blonde hair and green eyes. Ring any bells of acquaintances of Tempest's?"

"Protesilaus and Zephyrus," Purpled realized, "you are so screwed Tommy."

He groaned, falling back in his chair, "I know. Purp, when I was younger I thought my family were heroes and were going to come save me! I've been thinking it was just my imagination for the longest time, but apparently, it very much was not."

Purpled set a hand on his shoulder, "we are going to go to the casino, we are going to share this news with Drista, and then we are going to research other heroes to see if you knew any of them either."

Tommy paused, thinking back for a moment and nodding, before a sly grin came onto his face, "and you know what we're going to do after that Purp?"

"What?" he tilted his head.

"We are going to tell them in the most abstract, bullshitty way we can, and see how long it takes for them to realize that this motherfucker doesn't die."

Chapter Text

When they came back to the casino, walking faster than they did on the way back, probably gaining some odd looks as they did so, Tommy felt the full grip of the situation overtake him. His was on the fire escape, climbing up, when the realization fully hit him, and it felt like someone had ripped his heart out, punched it several times, and then put it back. Because with the realization that he knew who his brother was, who his family was (and wasn't that astonishing in itself. After ten years, out of every city in the world and every place they might be, he ended up in the one city, and having the one profession he could easily get that would directly interfere with them), came a whole slew of other realizations.

The semblance of trust he had instilled in Sam and Quackity started to crumble and weaken. Because they both knew his family, didn't they? At least, they knew Wilbur, knew the brother Tommy had been fighting with. He felt slightly sick to his stomach, climbing up the tall building, his hand gripping the handle so hard his knuckles turned white. 

When he reached the top, Tommy had nearly collapsed, hands shaking as he let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself. He could feel Purpled's concerned glance burning into the back of his head, but after a moment, forced himself to go further. He could sort out his thoughts once he was in his room, safely hidden away. If there was one place that Tommy didn't want to break down, it was definitely on the roof, exposed to the world.

And so, he and Purpled made there way back to the room, carefully avoiding anyone that may be in the building. When they made it back, the door was still shut, and Tommy hesitated briefly in opening it, unsure of if he really wanted the others to know.

Purpled placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking in a careful tone of voice, "Toms, it's okay. You're fine."

Slowly, he took a deep breath in, before opening the door and stepping inside, Purpled following behind him. Drista and Shroud were both sitting on the couch, Shroud doodling on a piece of paper, and Drista flipping through a book.

She directed her attention up briefly, smiling at him, before pausing, "uh, is everything okay?"

Tommy didn't bother responding, knowing that Purpled would explain everything to her, and instead, walked to his room, shutting the door behind him. It made a loud thunk, and he winced slightly at the noise, retracting his hand in a flinch, before forcing himself to take a deep breath in, tossing his bag to the corner of the room, before sitting on the bed.. His hands tugged at the messy sheets, and he could vaguely hear Drista and Purpled talking if he focused hard enough.

So much had happened in the past hours. Not only had he found his family again, they thought he was dead, and they hated the one variation that they did know. He groaned, falling backward onto the bed and covering his face with his hands. His life was a mess.

At this point, he wasn't sure what to believe. Purpled, Drista, and Shroud had become his family emotionally, become his everything, his reason for living now, but....but he wanted to know his actual family too. He had spent so long with the idea of being with his family as nothing more than a fantasy, something just out of reach for as normal as it should have been. Even now, when he knew who they were, knew that he could go to them and prove he was their missing family member...it still felt out of reach. Like this was a dream he was going to wake up from very soon.

Tommy let out a frustrated sigh, rolling over onto his side and staring at his vigilante outfit. He was a mess right now; he needed time to sort out his thoughts, time to determine what to do about the new information. His lips twitched up into a small smile. And time to think about how he was going to reveal it to them. In the most flashy, bullshitty way of course. They weren't getting this easily.

He carefully changed into his vigilante gear, leaving a couple of things out, such as his knee-pads and disk storage, and his goggles, which he held in his hand, grabbing his phone and switching out the case before slipping it into his pocket, before pushing the door open. Tommy ignored the feeling of eyes on his back as he walked to the door, speaking instead.

"I'm going out on patrol," he murmured, not glancing back, "text me if you need me."

A hand was placed on his shoulder, "Tommy-"

He tilted his head around, giving Drista and Purpled a smile, "I'm fine, I promise. I just..." he hesitated, "I need some time to organize my thoughts."

"I..." Drista looked hesitant, before nodding resolutely, her hand falling to her side as a slightly feral smile graced her lips, "we'll do some research about some heroes. See what we can find."

"Awesome," he sent them both a smile, before walking out the door, shutting it behind him, and strapping the goggles on, glancing through the hallway slowly.

He climbed back to the roof where he was not a few minutes before, shaking his head for a moment as wind went through his hair. A slight laugh left his lips, before he walking to the edge. Tommy grinned, taking a step off, before letting himself fall, and shift mid air.

Just a few feet before he hit the ground, Tommy flapped his black wings, soaring up through the air, wind whipping through his feathers. He let out a caw, flapping as he let himself glide through the sky, an unassuming crow. Tommy probably wasn't even going to get much done, not actually going to stop many crimes, but it would most definitely help him organize his mind.

After a few minutes, he swooped down to an alleyway flying through, before swooping up slightly and landing on the edge. He shook his head, folding his wings up to his side, before looking around, unsure of where to go next. He was in the nicer part of town. Not quite where the big guys lived, but nice enough that heroes would patrol around here. He winced at the thought.

Tommy had sat there for a few minutes, beginning to move his wings to lift off, before freezing at the sounds of footsteps on the rooftops with him. He sucked a deep breath in for a moment, unwilling to turn around, before flapping up a little bit, flying over to a telephone line and landing, glancing at the roof he was just on. He stared silently, taking in everything about them.

One was a larger man, though Tommy would estimate him only being a few inches taller than himself. A duller pink hue in his hair, tied in a braid tightly, with an askew gold crown buried in it, a red, green, and blue gem all put there individually. He wore a white dress shirt, covered by a cape, gold for the top half, with a pattern that mimicked blood splatters at the bottom in a dark red. It could have been actual blood splatters, Tommy noted, based on the man's appearance. The skull of a pig was his mask, tied together by two leather straps attached at the back, and Tommy could spy gold jewelry all over him. He had to repress the slight urge to go over and steal something. The man's belt had the sheath of a slim sword attached to it, the same blood splatter pattern on it as the cape, tainting the silver sheath. Protesilaus, Tommy recognized, wincing, which meant he was Techno. God, was he going to meet every one of his past family members today?

The second figure Tommy didn't recognize (at least, he thought he didn't. He ignored the small image in the back of his head, of the two friends he had before he got kidnapped. Ignored the memory, pushed it away. He didn't want to think about that), but seemed to be a hero, or hero-in-training of some sort. He'd have to do some research on him.

Still, Tommy glanced over him, making sure to remember every detail. Brown hair, a with his bangs pushed to the side, one white, one black. A mask covering the lower half of his face split with the same colors, but the opposite direction, and extending to his ears, covering them and making them appear slightly longer. A pair of goggles, one lens a bright red, the other an emerald green, with two horns, the same coloring as the mask, poked out from it, pushing his bangs further aside. A tied cape, maroon in coloring, held together with a pin that looked like a turquoise eye, one singular black slit down the center that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Under it, Tommy could see what appeared to be a purplish-black set of armor, though he caught glimpses of a gray shirt underneath. He had a dagger loosely tied to his belt, enough that Tommy could probably pry it out fairly easily even in this form. When the shirt ended on the sleeves, a pair of gloves was placed just on top of it, matching the colors of his mask, though the highlights were red and green. He wore black pants, which were wrapped up in the end by bandages, before two purple boots ended it off. The guy was slouching, and seemed to be glancing around nervously, though Tommy couldn't see his eyes, and he mentally noted how the guy would probably be easier to take down than Techno would be.

He tilted his head. Neither was talking, but Tommy cold see the way that the younger edged towards Techno, seeming to look around, Tommy idly wondered whether he had some sort of danger sense power, where he could tell that someone was watching him. After a moment, he shook the idea off. He wouldn't suspect the random crow on a wire near them.

Still, this felt like the perfect opportunity to give them a hint of who he was, of his relation. Something personal, that would remind them of him before, but also link it to him as Theseus. Maybe...

He paused, an idea coming to mind. Stretching his wings out, he flew in front of them, to the ground, before scratching a pattern out in the dirt, and placing a couple of rocks on it in specific locations. After a second, he scratched out a couple of words below it, before flying back up to see them a few buildings away from him. He let out a huff. Now all he needed to do was get the loose dagger from the black and white boy.

Not giving himself a chance to back out, he flew forward, swooping in front of them and flapping a few times. The guy with a pig skull seemed to blink, furrowing his brow.

"Hallo?' he tilted his head, "does Zeph-"

Tommy didn't give him the chance to finish, he dove towards the younger, grabbing the dagger and flying backwards, squawking. He ignored the indignant shouts from both parties, and the footsteps following him, instead flying over to his pattern in the ground. After a moment of making sure they were following him, he stuck it in the ground, blade first, before flying up and spying the image before they finally came up.

A drawing of a crown, etched out in the ground, with a few rocks placed upon it's points. The words 'Corona Borealis' etched out beneath it. When they finally approached him, he flew away, uncaring of if they followed or if they figured out the clue. He gave them it, it was up to them if they solved it.

He spent the next few hours flying through the city, uncaring, before he landed in an alley, nearly three hours after he had left the casino, and shifted back into his human form, stretching, and already missing the feeling of soaring through the air. Still, he hefted himself onto the edge of the building and pulled out his phone, pausing at the messages form not even ten minutes ago.

Orpheus: Tommy, get the fuck back here

Orpheus: we found something

And dear god, if that wasn't foreboding.

Chapter Text

I’m sorry I’m writing this, I hate Author’s Notes just as much as you, but…fuck.

I’m taking a bit of a break from writing for a bit to deal with the news of Techno’s death. He was…a huge inspiration and comfort to me. He got me through a tough time in my life, probably my lowest point. 

I’ve been crying for the past few hours, and just…I want to write this now, because I know I’m not going to sleep tonight, and writing it in the morning is going to be harder than right now while I’m sleep deprived.

It doesn’t feel real. But it is, and that’s impossible for my brain to wrap around. He was a true legend, and I don’t think I will ever forget all he’s done for me, for this community. He may not be here, but his legacy will always live on, because he’s amazing. 

I hope that he’s happy, wherever he went. I’m not a religious person at all, but I hope there’s something after life just so he can go and live in the best place there is up there, because he fucking deserves it. Much more than a lot of people I know.

Techno gave this world so much, put his all into everything, and I hope he’s wrecking havoc among whatever government is with him.

He left his legacy behind, one that I don’t think anyone truly deserves, but fuck if I’m not going to treasure the memories I have of watching his videos. 

He meant so much more to me than I have ever realized, and I hope that he is up there with the very gods that he loved to tell stories about. Whoever is in control up there better not have hesitated to put him in the best place possible, because he deserves it.

Chapter Text

Tommy stared blankly at the phone, barely registering the way that his hand was clamped around it, his knuckles white as his eyes traced the words again and again. Fear was clear in his eyes, though they were still hidden by the mask.

After a moment, he took a deep breath. He had to stay level headed for this -all of his stress and anxiety and rage could be filtered out later; right now, he had to get back to the casino.

With barely hidden tension in his form, he ran from roof to roof, making it back to the casino faster than he ever had before, and nearly loosing his balance when he landed on the roof. It was annoying, but he paid it no mind, forcing himself to steady, before going and slamming the roof access door open and slipping inside, listening idly to make sure it shut behind him. 

He made no effort in being quiet as he sprinted down the halls towards their room, prying off his mask and goggles as he did so. His heart thumped in his ears, and Tommy could feel worry building up higher and higher with every second.

Once he made it to the door, he wasted no time in slamming it open, stepping inside, before shoving it closed behind him. Tommy ignored the loud thump that echoed from it, his eyes firmly latched onto the crying form of Drista, who was sitting in the corner with Shroud trying to comfort her, Purpled standing a few steps away and looking as though he didn't know what to do.

Carelessly, he tossed his mask and goggles onto the couch, slipping beside Purpled as he glanced at Drista, "what happened?"

Purpled sighed, his eyes turning to him, but Tommy could see the fear behind them, "we...you know how you found Dr. Marcus?"

Tommy shivered at the name, but nodded, "what about it?"

"Well, we were looking at heroes, ones that you might have known," Purpled trailed off, before shaking his head, "no, c'mon. I think I need to just show you."

He walked over to the computer they had, one that Quackity had given them, before flipping through a few tabs, eventually landing on one before beckoning Tommy to come and look.

"Does he look familiar to you?" Purpled questioned, moving the cursor over one person in a picture of three.

Tommy tilted his head. The guy had dirty blond hair, and was wearing what looked to be a dark green hoodie, cut short and ending just above the belly button. He had black under armor on, and was wearing brown gloves, along with various belts that seemed to be made of the same fabric as the gloves. White pants, with bandages wrapped around the bottoms, replacing the socks, and black boots on. Covering his face, he had a white mask, nothing but a simple smile on it in black, though it was pushed up slightly, and Tommy couldn't see a grin just beneath it. In his right hand, he was holding a sleek black axe, almost purple in the light, with the word Nightmare carved into it.

He squinted at the picture, "not...really?"

Purpled sighed, running a hand through his hair, "he didn't to us either. Until I found this."

The other switched to the next tab, which had a paused video on it, the man the closet on screen. It seemed to be in the middle of a fight, and a few other heroes were visible during it, but the main focus was on the hero.

Tommy tilted his head, "that...doesn't really help me."

Purpled sighed, but zoomed in on the man's right shoulder, which was facing the camera, and also where a majority of the hoodie and under armor had been ripped off. Tommy felt himself freeze at the sight. Because there, despite being buried under some blood, ripped fabric, and blurred, was something he didn't think he could ever mistake. Not again.

G-126.

"Shit," he hissed, eyes flicking to Drista, before he furrowed his eyebrows, "why...why is that such a big deal though? My family is made up of heroes too. Why's it so bad that....what's his name again? Is a hero?"

Purpled sighed, "Dream. And the bad part isn't that he's a hero, that's the good part."

Tommy ignored the pounding of his heart to look Purpled in the eyes, "really?"

"Yeah," he sighed, pushing his head into his hands, "do you remember what Dream's power was?"

Slowly, Tommy shook his head, "not...not really..."

"Figured," Purpled shrugged, dropping his hands but not making eye contact, "G-126. His power was called Glitch. It....It lets him take control of another person's body, completely, but there are..." Purpled sucked in a breath, "drawbacks."

"I don't like where this is going," Tommy muttered it under his breath, but he knew Purpled heard him anyway.

He sighed, "anything over three hours in the other person's body will result in him..." Purpled grimaced, "he'll start to take on their personality, essentially. Or, at least, a part of himself will begin to take on that personality. And, the longer his consciousness stays in that body, the more...distorted his physical form becomes."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, "part of himself?"

"Similar to having multiple personalities, I suppose," Purpled looked at the screen again, before switching tabs again, and Tommy had to force himself not to freeze.

He looked similar, body wise, to the previous pictures, but just...wrong. A black hoodie, with multiple slashes through it, as though he had been brutally attacked while wearing it, skin clear underneath. Bright green gloves, and black pants, with black, knee-high boots.

But the thing that was telling was the skin. What was tan skin in the other pictures was now pitch black, a neon green replacing his eyes, mouth, and various markings on his skin. Under his hoodie, his skin was visible, and it was clear enough that you could see the guy's ribs, and looked almost as though the skin was melting off his stomach, though Tommy had a feeling that was not what was happening. His hair was almost entirely black too now, except for the ends, which faded to that same neon green. Literal glitches were visible throughout his body, covering up sections of skin, voidy black patches with green outlines, blending the difference between...whatever Dream saw when he possessed people and reality.

"Holy shit," that was only thing he was able to get out in response.

Purpled sighed and raised a hand, "this is Error, a massive villain and thorn in the heroes' sides. He has never been in a battle against Dream, and Drista confirmed that he looks similar to what Dream looked like when he overused his powers."

Purpled rubbed his face, sighing, "based on what we can tell, whenever he overuses his powers now, he gains someone's personality -we haven't figured out who, though we have a couple of guesses-, and acts like this. As Dream the hero, he fights powerless."

Tommy rubbed a hand through his hair, "holy fucking shit. This just got, like, ten times more complicated."

"No kidding," Purpled grumbled, "it gets worse."

"You remember how I mentioned Dr. Marcus before?" he questioned, and Tommy felt himself tense up, freezing, "yeah, well, here."

He switched tabs, and, low and behold, there was a picture of the glitched version of Dream, a grinning Dr. Marcus visible within the crowd watching him. And then he switched tabs again, and Dr. Marcus was there again, and then another picture and another. More and more pictures of Error and Dr. Marcus.

Purpled leaned back, and Tommy could identify the shake in his hands, and fear in his voice, "we don't know if they're working together, or if Dr. Marcus is just watching him, or if it's something else, but we think that Dream possessed one of the facility members for too long, and it has become an alternate personality for him."

Tommy ignores the icy feeling flowing through his veins, the wetness in his eyes, and the shaking of his hands, "this...could be a problem."

"No fucking shit," that was Drista, looking at him, still shaking a frightening amount, but no longer weeping, "I'm going to wipe the fucking floor with him. I thought he was dead, and apparently, he's decided to become a hero and a villain. At the same time."

And despite everything, Tommy couldn't stop himself from snorting.

He ignored the shakiness of their voices, the fear that was clear for all of them. Dr. Marcus had hurt all of them, just like Dr. Samuel hurt all of them. Just like Dr. Kayla had hurt him, like Dr. Brook had hurt Purpled, and Dr. Wilson had hurt Drista. Because all they felt was fear, fear that they buried, had learned to bury after years and years of it being perceived as a weakness.

Chapter Text

Tommy had to admit, it had been a while since he had gone to the casino.

Between researching people that they might have known in the past, coming up with bullshit clues to try and lead people towards them while still being obscure and vague, and patrolling, he hadn't had much time to go down to work.

But today was one of the rare days where he wasn't patrolling, but Purpled was training with Charlie, Shroud had come with them to watch, and Drista was apparently with Sam  in his lab right now, so he was left alone in the rooms, bored and antsy.

His hands twitched with every thought that raced through his head, and he couldn't stop himself from zoning out for a few seconds before blinking back and repeating the process. Earlier, just thirty minutes or so, he had woken up from his attempts to sleep the hours away, memories from the facility clear in his mind, an aborted scream caught in his throat.

Hands holding him down as he tried to move. Water filling his lungs as they filled up the room for an 'experiment', 'accidentally forgetting to turn off his cuffs so he could use his power. Him being forced to watched as a blade cutting his chest open, restraints preventing him from doing anything to stop it. Blood staining his hands from all those he had killed, the first casualties he had caused at the age of 8, lashing out in a blind panic. The feeling of being thrown into a cage, knowing that he would be forced to fight against some other unsuspecting subject, who was likely just as afraid of him as he was of them. Fire licking his skin as they held up a burning hot coal to his stomach as a punishment for lashing out.

He blinked back the tears that wanted to make an appearance, swallowing thickly and running his tongue over his lips, wetting them again. It was probably a bad idea to go down to the casino during the night -actually, no. It wasn't probably a bad idea, Quackity had actually warned him going down there during night because for as shady as the casino was during the day, at night it became a criminal hot spot. If Tommy didn't want to be exposed for being Theseus, he really shouldn't go down there during the night.

But Tommy was really bored. And anything was better than dealing with the looming nightmare that seemed to hang over him like a guillotine.

He let out a sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. That would probably be what he had to disguise the most, and midway through his hand going through his hair, he paused. He could probably shift to disguise the hair, but honestly, he really didn't want to accidentally spill some secret of Quackity's.

After a moment, he shrugged. The worst that could happen was Quackity refusing, and Tommy was pretty confident that he could annoy him to letting Tommy do it anyway.

Carefully, he sat up, setting everything he had on him on his bed, right next to where he was sitting. The only thing he had left was his phone, slipped into his pocket, just encase someone needed him.

Tommy slipped off the bed and out of his room, making his way out of the housing and to the elevator. Everyone who was living on the floor was either an employee who couldn't find housing in another place or a vigilante, so he didn't exactly need to be sneaky, especially as Tommy instead of Theseus.

He stopped in the elevator, pushing the button to the floors where Quackity's office was on, before leaning against the wall and letting out a breath. Unconsciously, his eyes flicked around the elevator, chest constricting at how similar the enclosed space felt to the cages that he would be trapped in whenever they wanted a fighting match. His right hand traced over his left wrist, eyes moving over the scar that lay there from the many times that he had accidentally broken it, to the point that it probably would never be as strong as it once was. Without Drista, it's likely that his wrist would have been permanently injured long ago.

When the door opened, Tommy immediately went out, careful to not look at the walls of the elevator, all too close to the sterile looking facility, where everything was the same. Metal walls that wouldn't bend, flickering and buzzing fluorescent lights, the white tiles floors. The smell of shots and anesthetic, of disinfectant, the uncomfortable heat or biting cold that seemed to linger no matter where you were.

He shivered at the memories.

The hallways of the casino were a bit better. They repeated, over and over, making it feel like he was a mouse trapped in a maze, but...it...it wasn't as bad as the facility. Because instead of white tile floor, his feet pressed against the red carpet on the floor. Because instead of gray, sterile walls, he could see the warm beige color, with dark wooden arches along it. Instead of flickering fluorescent lights, instead of the uncomfortable warmth or biting cold that would always be there, he could spy the chandlers and lamps, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout the hallways. Instead of anesthetic and disinfectant, he could smell alcohol tainting the air, could hear laughter and music.

Tommy wasn't sure exactly how long it took to reach Quackity's office, where he usually was, especially during the night where he would work on different leads and securing relations with other groups. He wasn't sure how long he spent walking, how fast he was going, only really registering anything when he managed to make it to the wooden door, glancing at the closest person to check that no one was inside with Quackity right now, and the girl nodded before returning to her work.

Swallowing down the bile in his throat, he knocked on the door, his lips twitching into a smile as he heard the faint 'come in' from Quackity. The door was easy to push, lightweight for how menacing it looked, and he carefully walked in, shutting it behind him. He didn't bother sitting down, knowing that he would be getting up soon anyway, instead leaning against the wall and staring at Quackity.

The older raised an eyebrow at him, pushing the paperwork he was doing aside, before leaning back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table.

"What brings you here, Tommy?" he questioned, his good eye tracking him.

Tommy leveled him with a stare, "I want to know the rules of the casino at night."

Quackity squinted at him, "...please do not tell me you want to go work there right now after I specifically told you not to."

Tommy didn't say anything, biting his lip slightly, and Quackity groaned, "c'mon kid! You're going to out yourself."

"I mean, it's not really your choice," he shrugged, "either you tell me what I'm allowed to do and I don't tell people things I shouldn't, or you don't and I go down there anyway, talking about shit that you don't want people to know."

It was silent for a few moments, a silent staring contest between the two, before Quacktiy looked away, dragging a hand down his face, "I can't believe I'm being blackmailed by a child."

Tommy scowls and lets out a huff, "I'm not a fucking child you dickwad."

"Sure, sure," Quackity waved an idle hand, before looking him up and down, "how exactly do you plan on going down there without someone realizing that you're Theseus? If it's someone that you fought, they might make the connection."

Tommy sent the man a deadpan look, before focusing on his power. He didn't want to change a lot, so he could keep up the form longer -though he'd have to get hair dye from Quackity, since it wasn't natural. Make his hair a little shorter than it already was, the hairband holding it into a ponytail behind him falling to the ground limply, and he grew about an inch, his skin a slightly tanner shade to replace his unnatural paleness from being trapped inside for nearly ten years with very few times that he was taken outside. Most of his scars were carefully covered, new skin showing up over them, and his eyes were a darker blue, looking more like a stormy gray than a bright blue sky. He grimaced at the fact that this was probably going to make him ache for quite a while, depending on how long he stayed shifted, even with just minor modifications.

Once he was done, he sent him a cheeky grin, glancing at himself, before shrugging, "I probably want to get one-day hair dye though. You got any?"

"Forgot about that," he heard Quackity murmur, before the man cleared his throat, "probably. I employ vigilantes, there's probably something similar, most likely in the room they use for undercover disguises."

Tommy leaned back, "you gonna take me there?"

It was quiet, before Quackity groaned again, "fine. I'll explain the rules on the way there too."

He got up, pushing the door open, to which Tommy quietly followed behind, keeping up step with the other, though purposely staying just a little behind.

"Rule one," Quackity started, still filing through the hallways, "don't tell anyone your real name. Nor your vigilante name. You'll probably just be referred to as 'kid' until someone gives you a name."

Tommy paused, faltering in his footsteps momentarily, "gives me a name?"

Quackity nodded, "yup. Criminals come here all the fucking time, you don't want them making the connection to you as a civilian or vigilante, so once you do something noteworthy, you'll get a name that correlates to it."

"I'm to be referred to as 'Croupier'. They're the dealer at a gaming table, and it's the name everyone knows me by," he sent Tommy a glare, "do not call me Quackity, under any circumstance."

Tommy nodded, "makes sense. Any other names I should know?"

The man paused, hesitating, "Foolish is Thunder, because the people who piss him off usually get electrocuted," he snorted, "Sam is Pandora," Quackity glanced back at Tommy, "it's a prison. He used to work there, one of the most well known in the country. Casually listed ten separate ways to get out that he knew to one of the guys that bragged he survived it."

"Anyone else you probably don't know. If you do, don't say the name, wait for them to tell you what to call them," he shrugged, "rule two -don't tell anyone anything about what you do here. As far as they know, you're a new bartender."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, "bartender?"

He had worked at the bar a few times, usually when Foolish was there to guide him on what to do, and he was fairly fluent in making drinks, but it was still a little odd, considering he was usually playing in games of cards.

"Yes, bartender," Quackity huffed, "I don't want you pissing off people down there right now by winning every game. They'll beat you up -or, try to. I know you can hold your own, but I'd prefer not to have that come up."

Tommy paused, taking that in, "if they're harassing someone, you know I'm not going to just leave them be, right?"

"I had a feeling," he shrugged, "and you don't have to. Bar fights are something you're allowed to handle, and it's not exactly unlikely that you would know how to fight to some degree, just try not to go too extreme? And give them a chance to back out at first."

Tommy let out a few grumbles, glancing at the door that Quackity was heading for, "fine."

When the man pushed the door open, Tommy moved in, before blinking. The room was probably the most colorful one that Tommy had seen in the casino, clothes along the edges, both hung up and stacked, with mirrors in the back, a few realistic wigs, some hair dye, and a little makeup there too. He blinked, slightly annoyed that he wouldn't get the chance to use most of this with his abilities, but impressed nonetheless.

He let out a low whistle, glancing around, "your people disguise themselves often?"

Quackity shrugged, moving to lean against the wall, "sometimes. Not a bunch though."

Tommy moved to the other side of the room, moving the hairsprays aside as he listened to Quackity idly, "Foolish isn't working tonight, but there will be another bartender there, so I'll come out and introduce you, say that you're a new night-time recruit."

Vaguely, he let out a hum of confirmation, before picking up a thing of hair dye, glancing at the back, "dark red, or dark blue?"

"Red," Quackity responded immediately, and Tommy was fairly sure that he didn't even really think about the question, "you should shift to have a characteristic physical. If people see that you have something visible -animal ears, a tail, you get it- it'll be less likely that they'll say you're Theseus."

Tommy let out a hum of confirmation, tossing the bottle of dark red hair dye between his hands -Makeup For Hair the package read. At least he wouldn't have to wait for it to dry, he'd just need to get a hair dryer, "you got a blow dryer somewhere so I can use this shit? Don't really wanna let it hair dry."

"There should be one in your personal bathroom," he shrugged, "you got any idea what physical characteristic you're gonna do?"

Moving towards the door, Tommy glanced around. He...wasn't sure. If he was making a choice based purely on what he normally did, he'd probably choose a wolf or crow. Maybe a polar bear, to remind him of Techno. But...

He had been using those a lot. And though he was fine with it -he loved those forms after all-, deep down he ached for something different. Something new. Something dangerous.

His eyes caught on a selection of clothing, patterns of a snake winding up the sleeves on one of the jackets catching his attention.

Tommy supposed it was the perfect compromise. A few things, just to change his appearance a little more. A winding tail, slitted eyes.

Fangs. Preferably with venom.

A grin slowly made its way to his face. He'd have to do a bit of research for the venom and fangs before he could shift, mostly to make sure he didn't end up hurting himself with venom, but it'd probably only take some careful research on his phone to do that.

After a moment, he turned towards Quackity, "I think I snake would work rather well, wouldn't you agree?"

Quackity sent a matching feral grin back, winking at him with his good eye, before turning around, stepping back outside to the hallway, "go back up to your room and deal with your hair dye. I'll look forward to hearing what you've done tonight."

"You do realize that there's going to be something fucked up happening just because I'm there? My luck is not exactly in my favor, or your casino's, for that matter. Sorry if it ends up destroyed, but you're not allowed to blame me, " he called back, watching Quackity's retreating figure from the doorway he was leaning on. It looked like he was heading towards Sam's lab.

All he got in response was Quackity flipping him off, and he responded with laughter, leaving after a few more seconds to go back to Quackity's office, and then the elevator through the repeating hallways. The scent of alcohol got stronger the closer to the office he got, and once he was in the elevator, it was practically all around him, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to rid the bile in his throat.

Despite what he had told Quackity and Foolish many times, the reason Tommy didn't want to drink wasn't because of the fact that it was illegal. No -that part he was fine with, being a vigilante had shown that he had no problems with doing illegal things after all. But the idea of not being fully in control of himself, of saying something sensitive or personal, of revealing something that he shouldn't, at least not yet, that terrified him. The first lesson anyone learned in the facility was to always have your guard up.

A part of him was afraid, too, that if he were to drink, his attitude would turn uncomfortably close to that of the facility guards and scientists. Because even when he was in control of himself, he could feel the power thrumming under his veins, the thrill of having more control, of being stronger than someone else. He kept it buried, hid it away to prevent himself from focusing on it, but he didn't want to know what would happen if he was drunk. Because his instincts would have nothing to block them from coming out, and Tommy had been forced to kill too many times in his life already. He didn't exactly feel like adding more red to that list.

He admitted there was a comfort in going down to the casino, especially now. Even with his hatred for alcohol, he had to admit that being there, being able to see everything that was going on soothed his guilt a little. It felt like, despite the red that stained his life, the blood that seemed to constantly cover his hands, dull his eyes, he was able to help. it helped in the same way that being Theseus did -though in different ways. As Theseus, he sought out danger, helped the people being mugged, raped, anything that he heard. He barely ever stopped it before it began, but it was soothing to help people.

But at the casino, even though he had only even been there during the day, he couldn't deny the fact that he had seen more people being threatened, groped, anything of the sort. He couldn't do much as Tommy -fighting someone three times his size and winning might have been slightly suspicious, especially since he hadn't exactly decided to shift and change his appearance before-, though he made sure to kick each and every person he caught doing something out, threatening to call Quackity to get them out. Every person who he had helped sent him a wavering smile, sometimes just a twitch of their lips, and he would nod, giving them his own, before returning to whatever he was doing before.

And later -though he wasn't sure by how much, he hadn't been paying attention to the clock-, when he was standing in front of the mirror, bangs dyed a dark red, fangs peaking out of his grin, slitted blue eyes, edging on green in the corners, staring straight ahead, and tail wrapping around his legs as it twitched, he couldn't help but wonder who this new person was going to be.

Because Theseus was a vigilante, and Tommy was a civilian, but the person he was now? He didn't have a name yet, didn't have a purpose, but he was alive, and so very different.

So he took a deep breath, tightened the collar of the casino outfit he had changed into minutes before, and grinned, eyes gleaming ferally, and nodded at Quackity, who was waiting for him. The older pushed the door open, and Tommy slowly followed Quackity out, excitement bubbling in his chest. He supposed it was time to figure out who this new facet of his personality was.

Chapter Text

After Quackity introducing him to the bartender, who apparently hadn't managed to get themselves a name yet, he pretty easily fell into a rhythm. He had been at the bar before, preparing drinks and chatting with the people sitting there occasionally, but it was...different this time. Because then he was Tommy, and now he's not.

Though he wasn't sure how long it had been since he started -maybe an hour? Maybe two?-, at some point he looked up, glancing around the room. It was clear to see why Quackity hadn't wanted him down here -he was fairly certain at least one person in each other the big groups was armed, which was...slightly off-putting but he prayed that things would be fine for now. Knowing his luck though, everything would probably go wrong.

He paused his attempts to categorize everyone in the room when two new people came up. Slowly, he glanced over at them, squinting his eyes as they got closer. The hair that framed their faces -black and brown respectively- didn't seem to quite...fit. It was off, not quite natural, and he could see the barest glimpses of white or pink underneath when they shifted in certain ways, likely so small that unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't notice it.

Barely, he contained the look of how he felt when they approached him, sitting down opposite of the table. Though, Tommy guess it was a little hard to change your appearance to the shapeshifter, who had gone years analyzing every detail so he could change into any person he wanted to (and, though he wasn't sure yet, it wasn't exactly unlikely his powers gave him photographic memory too. He'd have to test that with Sam, see if it was true or not. It would certainly explain how he never seemed to forget things), seeing that small flash of color was as obvious to him as if they didn't have the wigs on at all.

Still, he forced his face to remain neutral, leaning over the table as they paused, "can I get you something to drink?"

The one with a brown wig, and white hair that was now covered to the point that he couldn't see it, nodded, "I'll have a..." she paused, "champagne. Don't care what type. Uh...Audrey?"

"I'm good without," she shrugged.

Tommy nodded, glancing over them again. It didn't escape his notice how the first person hesitated when saying Audrey, as though that wasn't the name the person usually used. Barely there, yet so obvious. Another point towards them not being who they say they are.

Still, he grinned, making sure his fangs were on display, "alright ladies, I'll bring it right over to you. You can sit down here if you'd like?"

He turned around, not checking if they did so, though their voices remained close as they murmured to each other, so he assumed that they took him up on that offer. Even as his hands worked through grabbing the champagne for her, his brain flew wildly, trying to figure out who they were, why they seemed so...familiar.

He pushed at how familiar 'Audrey' sounded. Like someone he had heard before, heard recently...

'It's fine. You, uh....it's coming close to when he was taken, right? You...you doing okay?'

'It's...I'm sorry Wil. Thomas was a good kid. What was the date he got taken again?'

'Because I'm going to come to your apartment and stop your ass from doing anything you might regret, obviously, why else? the only time that it's worse for you is his birthday, and lord knows I remember what happened this year when that happened.'

Tommy faltered for a moment with the drink, before going back up, and glancing back at her, a grin slipping onto his face. Why hello there Nemesis.

He glanced at the other lady too. If that was Nemesis, it was likely this was another hero two. White hair, works with Nemesis...what are Nemesis and Captain doing in a shady place like this?

After a moment, he looked back at the champagne he was making, carefully setting it down as he closed the bottle again, slipping it back into place, before grabbing it and carrying it over.

When he placed it in front of Captain, though he didn't move, instead keeping careful eye contact with them. They seemed to freeze, and he glanced around to make sure that no one was listening, before raising an eyebrow at them, "pray tell what, exactly, Nemesis and Captain are doing at a place like this?"

The both froze, though Nemesis broke out of it first, looking around nervously, as though they hadn't been watching him the entire time. With a sigh, he leaned back, waving away their concerns, "I haven't told anyone, and I won't tell anyone, because for as much of an asshole as I may be, I don't exactly want to be the reason you get maimed down here. The only reason I knew it was you is because I have better memory than most, knew your faces immediately."

"Fair enough," Nemesis grumbled, though they both still looked nervous, "what do you want then?"

He shrugged, "I want to know why on Earth you would decide to come here of all places. Information? A target?"

Tommy had a stare off with Nemesis for a moment, before Captain sighed, "we've been researching a group that's been a hassle recently. Assaults, robberies, but everything's carefully planned and hidden, enough that we can find much of anything. Found a lead that led us to here. You heard anything?"

"I hear a lot of things," he responded, almost automatically, pushing through in spite of the little voice in his head going so I'm mysterious like this? Good to know, "got anything to help me narrow it down?"

Silence for a moment, before- "red eyes."

He blinked, "red eyes?"

"Yup," Nemesis nodded, and he could feel a bit of hostility coming from her, though he carefully ignored it.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on any conversation he overheard from people with red eyes. A couple of groups had one or two people with red eyes, though he usually assumed it was a style choice, or a power of some sort. But a whole group that had red eyes, he didn't...

"Most of the heroes will be out of town next week for a council meeting. He said so himself. It wants us to attack then, infect more people," a person, red eyes and blond hair, a white hoodie holding it together. It felt...wrong to listen. As if his mind was telling him that he didn't have to, that he should forget it.

The other person, brown hair draping over her, roses braided into it, spoke back, and he had that same urge that he didn't have to listen, that he shouldn't listen, " when? It is too quiet, but I can't go near it. Not yet."

The guy leaned back, "He says that we should start it close to the hotel that's near here. I think the same guy that owns this place owns that place too. See how many people we can get infected there. Tuesday, 10:00 pm, we'll plant the seed. It'll start helping people the next day.  And make sure that the distraction for the heroes is planned, we need to have the chemicals ready for him by next week."

The memory was...foggy. Fuzzy. Like he shouldn't remember it, shouldn't have even registered it in the first place, but he...did. Maybe that was one of their powers? Make people ignore you and who you want to be ignored, make them forget that they saw you? He wasn't sure, though if his idea about him having some sort of photographic memory from his power was true, it would make sense why he was able to remember it, even though it seemed pretty obvious he shouldn't have, because then they wouldn't have spoken so clearly and loudly.

He looked back at the two, who were looking at him expectantly, and sighed. Carefully, he picked up a glass from one of the other people who were there, beginning to wipe it cleaner, "the hotel that Croupier owns, Tuesday of next week, at 10:00. They're planting something to control people...infect people?" he wrinkled his nose, "not sure about that part. That help?"

They both stared at him, before Captain started blinking, "how do you..."

"I'm quiet when I want to be," he shrugged, "people forget I'm there. Possible photographic memory probably also helps. If that's all, though, I'll be requesting payment for the Champagne."

Once he received the money, depositing it, he carefully went about the bar, serving more people and acutely aware of the eyes from both Nemesis and Captain that followed him. Still, he was thankful for the lack of anything really happening after that.

...Which lasted for about thirty minutes. God dammit he hated his life.

He wasn't even sure how his attention was brought to it, but he became aware of one of the guys he had been serving -a middle aged man who was fairly average in height and weight, he noticed, with almost no visible muscles- clearly harassing one of the girls who was at the bar. Flirty comments at first, which he could for the most part ignore, since neither seemed...uncomfortable, but then he caught the dude slipping something into the girl's drink, and seemed to get closer, and Tommy decided he was done with the bullshit.

He was close, cleaning a glass, and without look up, stood in front of them, "sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave her alone."

The man had rolled his eyes, pushing him slightly, "buzz off, roadkill."

"I'm sorry," his grin grew sharper, more feral, and he was well aware of how terrifying he looked, eyes sharp and menacing, even with how skinny he was, "I said I'm going to have to ask you to leave her alone."

The man groaned, before reaching a hand over and shoving him onto the floor, causing the glass in his hands to shatter. Tommy blinked for a few seconds at the blood on his hands, glass shards piercing it, before he look up, staring dead at the guy. Sorry Quacks, but if that's how he's going to play, than I'll play right back.

Carefully, he stood up, plucking glass shards out of his hands, moving to leave the safety of the bar. Distantly, he was aware of the man's friends moving to surround the two as they got closer, and the silence that was clear close to them, waiting to see what would happen next, though most of the casino was still bustling with noise.

"Now," he hissed, "you have not only harrassed someone, you've assaulted one of the employees here. I don't care that you're drunk off your ass, you have exactly 5 seconds to get away before I start defending myself."

The guy scoffed, and Tommy barely stopped himself from recoiling at the stench of alcohol in his breath, "what're you going to do twig? Tickle me?"

"4," Tommy spoke, staring him dead in the eyes. A part of him hope that the guy wouldn't back off, just so he could get a good few punches in. His skin was itching for a fight.

"Stop tryin' to intimidate me fuckass, it's not gonna' work."

"3," he was well aware of how most people that could see them had gone silent, watching them, though a couple were cheering and crying for a fight.

The guy growled, taking a step closer.

"2," his voice was as smooth as ever, the dangerous edge to it making most people recoil.

A fist was raised, aimed straight at him.

His already slitted eyes went further, and he grinned ferally, "1."

The punch came forward, aiming for his head, but he automatically lifted a hand, catching it before it even got close, and raising an eyebrow at the astonished look on the guy's face, "you've run out of time, so sad. I warned you though."

Immediately, he twisted the guy's arm, before shoving him to the ground violently, and pressing a pressure point, listening intently for the moment that the guy would pass out. Once it was done, he carefully stood up with a sigh, only for an arm to worm around his neck, squeezing, and he let out a sigh, before grinning. I am so glad I have snake fangs right now.

He bit the guy's arm, fangs sinking deep into his flesh, and he was let go with a yelp. It was clear the person who was holding him was a friend of the first guy, and he sighed, brushing the blood on his lips away.

He glanced at the final guys, who look at him with fear with how easily he had taken down two of them. Carefully, Tommy pointed to the first guy, "I hit his pressure point, he'll be knocked out for a while," and then gestured to the person behind him, "and I bite him. He has venom going through his system now, but it won't kill him. He'll pass out and be sick once he wakes up, but as long as someone takes care of him, he'll be fine. Now take them, and get the fuck out of here."

Immediately, he turned around, stepping over the guy behind him, before glancing back, "by the way, you people could use a couple of mints."

As he went back to the bar, he felt his lips twitch up as people started chanting 'Viper' after he had finished. Looks like he had a name now, and only one day taking the night shift. Huh, things really do like to happen to him. The universe totally hates him.

Still, it didn't sound so bad. Theseus, the vigilante, Tommy, the civilian, and Viper, the informant and bartender.

His lips twitching into a smile at that. He wondered how long it would take for them to figure out that they were all the same. After all, he had interacted with heroes as all three. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't even sure why he was out.

It had been a dreary day, just three after he created Viper, and he had managed to stay inside for the nights then, working at the bar. No one else had come to him for information, which wasn't really surprising, though he hoped that someone would at least stop by after they got rid of whatever that guy was talking about -a plant or some shit? He wasn't sure, though there was a good chance that they wouldn't come back.

The sky was clouded and gray, yet not a single drop of rain had fallen all day. Few people milled about, still forced to be outside even in this weather, though they paid his little mind, even when he did start running across the roofs, footsteps likely waking a few residents up from their apartment. A part of him felt guilty, but the other part felt free, and that overpowered the first by so much that he barely even felt the guilt, letting himself run wild.

Dully, he noted that he should probably make himself an open jacket to wear, with a zipper, as it was only early February, and he could already tell that he wouldn't be able to wear the full hoodie much longer comfortably. He probably could wear it, considering he did before and L'Manburg didn't get too hot, but it was still something to think about.

He glanced up at the sky, pausing at the edge of a rooftop for a moment, breathing in a bit of cold air through the mask. The baseball bat in his hand sat limply, tip touching the concrete below him as he paused.

Tommy probably should have gone back. It looked like it was about to rain at any moment, and had been a quiet night, but something....there was a prickling in the back of his neck, an uncomfortable feeling building in his gut. There was something big happening today, he was sure of it.

Still, it had been nearly four hours since he had come out, and nothing had happened yet, nothing to alert him, nothing to cause significant, it was just...nothing. No people to stop besides the occasional mugger. The streets eerily calm, a few homeless people wandering around, but that was really it.

Maybe that should have been his first hint for how bad things were about to go.

Because one moment, he had turned around, preparing to go back to the casino and tell Purpled about how boring things were on patrol.

And then the next, explosions echoed out from around him, the building -a warehouse, he realized- he was standing on collapsing under his very feet. His ears were ringing, even through the protective casing of the mask, and Tommy couldn't have even imagined what would have happened it he didn't have it.

The collapsing building made him fall almost twenty feet, hitting the pile of rubble beneath him with a thud, air leaving his lungs with a gasp. Bits and pieces of rock, glass ,and wood embedded themselves into his hoodie, back, and arms, and he swore that he heard the telltale crack of bones breaking, though at this point, couldn't be sure.

For a few seconds, the world was silent, and he stayed laying on the rubble, trying to force air into his lungs with gasps, before he finally managed to get some air in, and look around.

The building he was on didn't seem to be the only one that had an explosive in it, which probably meant that they weren't specifically aiming for him. There was no one around that he could see, and the eerie silence from before had returned, causing him to tense. There was something else coming, they had to have a reason for attacking, it couldn't have just been random.

So either there was something they needed here...

...or this was a diversion. Fuck.

He shot up, wincing at the sharp, piercing pain that shot through his chest -definitely cracked, if not broken, ribs- before forcing himself to get up. Tommy wasn't going to sit here as something, or someone, tried to hurt civilian or do...whatever they were trying to do. This wasn't a coincidence, Tommy was betting on it.

His body seemed to groan under his movement, sprinting out of the rubble of the collapsed buildings and heading for the nearest roof he could climb on, but he had done more in worse condition.

Before he was placed in higher containment, Tommy had two guards on him, max. On in front, one behind.

Just before he got placed in higher containment, there was an incident where he tripped, and one of the guards threatened to brand him again, causing him to freak out. The Scientist leading them told them to continue, but after a few seconds, he heard gunshots and screams.

He turned around, expecting Tommy to be on the floor, having attempted to attack the guard that threatened him.

Instead he found one guard with her throat ripped out, and the other shot several times in the chest with the first guard's gun. Tommy was dripping with their blood, and was staring directly at the scientist.

Just a little before, he had gone through an experiment involving how fast he could get out if trapped beneath rubble. They were heading to Drista for her to heal him so Tommy could continue his experiments.

He had a broken wrist, three broken ribs, two cracked ones, a broken nose, and a sprained ankle.

He managed to kill two fully armed guards, both with knife-proof and bullet-resistant jackets, with access to his shock collar, the power suppressor still active on his wrist, in less than a minute.

Tommy was eleven, at the time.

Let it be known that Tommy does not get sloppier when fighting provoked.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, effectively drowning out any of the pain that he felt. Instinctively, he climbed up the outside of a fire escape, not bothering to actually go inside and use it the correct way. He wasn't sure where to go, wasn't sure what to do. They could have been anywhere in the city -from the other side of town to the building he was standing on. He didn't have any leads, he didn't have any-

"-you haven't even have any of the goddamn chemicals we need to subdue X-02!"

"-and make sure that the distraction for the heroes is planned. We need to have the chemicals ready for him by next week."

Goddammit. Why did everything in his life have to connect? First the heroes and his family, and now the red-eyed cult people and Dr. Marcus? Couldn't anything be easy for him?

Chemicals, chemicals. They'd need something strong, something powerful to subdue X-02, given that it was a genetically enhanced artificial creature built to withstand basically anything, so something that could knock it out, something that could keep it down for long enough to transport. The only things Tommy could think of to do that were a chemical that government had made that he didn't know about, which would be both hard for him to stop or find, or-

...or fucking medical anesthesia.

It was a long shot, and there was probably a good seventy percent chance that this was entirely different, but based on how the rest of his life was going, and how all of the facts lined up, Tommy had a feeling that it probably wasn't a coincidence. Fuck.

He immediately started moving once the thoughts have fully processed his thoughts, whipping past buildings faster and faster, jumping and leaping and praying that he was right and that he made it there in time to stop them from getting their hands on whatever they needed before they got enough of it.

There were five hospitals that Tommy could think of in the city. The one in the lower end -which it would make no sense for them to raid, most of it was the shitty cheap medicine you could probably purchase underground for basically nothing. There was the one on the edge of town, small with basically nothing, now functioning more as a nursing station than an actual hospital. In the middle-class section of the city there was one, nice enough -but again, most of the things there you could get on the black market fairly easily. The nice part of town had one, but Tommy had been in there, and quite frankly, it was mostly just for show. Which left one hospital left….

The one in the heroes’ headquarters. Which also made the most sense if they needed something to subdue X-02. Well, this was going to be fun.

He pulled out his phone -which, thankfully, wasn’t broken from the fall. A little cracked, but still functional-, dialing Purpled’s number, praying under his breath that his friend would pick up. When the chime came through indicating that he hadn’t, Tommy cursed, dialing again as he ran.

It rung three times before Purpled picked up, answering in a very annoyed and tired voice, “Toms, you’re my brother in all but blood, and I love you, but why the hell are you calling me at-“ he paused, and Tommy could almost imagine him reading the clock, “-two in the hood damn morning? I was actually sleeping for once.”

“Okay I’m sorry, but this is actually important,” he was well aware of how out of breath he sounded, a little wheeze exiting his throat as he struggled to breath fast enough for his lungs while still running due to his broken ribs, “if I, theoretically, needed to break into the heroes’ headquarters because there’s going to be a break in, like, right now because people from the facility need a specific chemical from it, how would I do it?”

Dead silence from the line, before- “Tommy what in the actual fuck happened tonight? And why do you sound so out of breath?”

The heroes’ headquarters was still 10 minutes away, maybe 5 if he shifted, and Tommy let out a huff of annoyance, “explosions, not important. Answer the question.”

Quiet again, “ you know how Sam has been teaching Drista hacking?”

“Mhm?”

“She hacked into the hero headquarters protocols so we could find files about your family.”

“Duh, we knew this P-Orpheus,” Tommy was starting to get annoyed again.

Purpled sighed, “the building is shielded by biometric scanning to prevent outsiders.”

“Okay?” 

“Tommy, you were in their system before you got taken, and they never took you out, because if you weren’t dead, then there was no reason to, and if you were, there wasn’t a reason either. You can go in now and it won’t alert anyone. With your level of clearance, you can shift into a bird and fly to the level you need, and the building will automatically open a window for you. The odds are even better if you’re a crow.”

Tommy was silent, processing the words, before a grin broke onto his face, “Orpheus, you amazing, amazing genius. Do you think one of Sam’s EMPs he gave you would disable the cameras of wherever I land? I don’t want them to see me shift.”

He paused, “probably, honestly. They’re mostly normal cameras, it’s the biometric scan that enhances them. If someone unauthorized goes in, then the cameras swap out for ones that most EMPs won’t work on. I’d say you have a…” he paused, though Tommy knew he was probably talking with Drista, “30 second time period where the cameras are disable for you to shift,” Purpled paused for a second, “Drista says that she can override it through the code, so you have thirty seconds to get in and shift before the camera turns off. Can you do it?”

Tommy grinned, “is that even a question?”

Purpled snorted, “ I’m going to end the call and Drista and I are going to connect our masks, okay? I know you’d get there faster, but wait a second before you shift.”

Tommy grumbled, but muttered out a fine, still running as fast as he could across the rooftops. Distantly, he registered people traveling -cars, a few other figures on roofs, and two in the sky- towards the explosions, but paid them no mind, not right now. The heroes might not understand it, but he was saving all of their asses right now.

“Tommy?” He head Drista’s voice in the mask, “once you shift, we’re not going to be able to talk to you, and any conversations we have in the headquarters might be able to be accessed, so you’ll be on you own. I’ll erase all records I can of Thomas Craft entering the building, try and make sure they don’t know it was you. Can we know why you’re going into the heroes’ headquarters though?”

Tommy let out a grunt, jumping over a hurdle as the heroes’ headquarters becoming barely visible on the horizon, “you remember what I told you about X-02 before, right? Ridiculously strong, an artificial being, all that shit?” She let out a hum on confirmation, “they made a distraction for the heroes so they can break into their private hospital and steal some medicine they need to subdue X-02 from there.”

There was silence for a few more moments, “fuck.”

“Exactly,” Tommy agreed, grimacing, “I’m gonna have to shift, like, now. Think you can still track me while I’m shifted?”

Drista hummed, “take off the token Q gave you -the casino chip? It has a tracker in it. Tie it around your foot as a crow. Also, just so you know, medical floors are from 38 to 39. There's medical staff on floor 38, but it seems that 39 is closed for cleaning. There's some people headed for it right now though, and I don't think they look like cleaners.”

Tommy grimaced, "he put a fucking tracker on me? And yeah, that would be them."

"You have a phone, Tommy," Purpled deadpanned, "it wouldn't have been that hard to track you anyway."

After a moment, he shrugged, "fair enough."

The heroes' headquarters was standing tall in the horizon, and he hesitated, before sighing, "if I don't want to get caught on camera, I should shift now before there will be a million. I'll try not to get caught guys."

It wasn’t like he couldn’t escape from them if he wanted to. He very much could, fairly easily in fact, but he didn’t exactly want to hurt his family, even if he hadn’t properly interacted with them in years. Tommy had been trained for ten years to use his powers to the fullest extent possible, how to ignore injury and do what he needed to anyway, and fight impossible battles -both with and without his powers. He was an escape artist -that’s why he was in Higher Containment, because they couldn't break him, no matter how hard or how long they tried. 

Ten years, 462 escape attempts, 327 kills.

They had trained Tommy to be a perfect weapon.

It was kind of ironic it was being turned on them now.

Chapter Text

The shifted form of a crow was familiar to him, and he fell into it easily, body shifting mid-fall as he started to beat the newly-formed wings to keep himself upright.

Actually, his dad being fucking Zephyrus made a lot of sense for his attachment to crows. What even was his dad's power again? Because as much as his whole gimmick was centered around crows, he was fairly sure that that wasn't actually about crows. He'd have to ponder that.

A few pieces of his costume fell to the ground, not having touched his skin or been too heavy to shift with him, but the baseball bat was pressed to his neck, and the tablet was pressed to his wrist. Those were the only two concerns for him, though he promised himself he'd come back later to get back whatever wasn't scavenged up. His claw gripped the tracker tightly, hoping that it would

As he flew, the wind soared by him, pressing his feathers further against his small body, and it almost relaxed him, despite the tense situation. There was something so...freeing about being able to soar amongst the clouds, a whistling filling his senses. It was...nice, though his heart still sped with adrenaline, and worry still gripped at his chest, aching to be set free.

It took maybe a minute to reach the facility, and he hovered around the outside for a moment, hesitating to go inside the massive building in front of him (56 floors, he remembered as a random fact he read in a book at the Facility. Why the fuck was this building so big? Like, Tommy got that they had a lot of people do the paperwork for missions, PR statements, medical employees, cafeteria staff, trainers, housing for the heroes if need-be...actually, never mind. He knew why it was so fucking big) that was the residence of his family, the ones he hadn't seen in years. This could go so wrong in so many ways -he could lose the fight, he could be taken by the heroes, his family could find out who he was, they could be disgusted by who he came to be. There was just...a lot at risk here.

He shook his head. There were more important things than his own moral dilemmas. If they managed to get their hands of X-02 -or, god forbid, R-01, then they'd all be fucked. Tommy only knew what Purpled had told him, and Purpled only knew what he had overheard in the Facility workers' minds, but the little bit they did know about X-02 and R-01 was horrifying. If Tommy's record was bad, then theirs was soaked with blood.

He glanced down, mentally counting the floors until his got to 39, before swooping towards the window quietly, an unsuspecting crow.Even from outside during the night, he could see several people walking through the rooms, throwing boxes onto the ground or ripping through things to find whatever they were looking for, though none of them were looking at the window right now. He took a breath in. Now or never.

As quickly as he could, Tommy flew forward, bracing for the chance that the window wouldn't open for him and he would instead slam into the clear glass. Instead, it slid open silently like clockwork, and he could already hear the mental timer going down in his head for how long he had to shift.

Tommy glanced around, before inhaling deeply. None of them spied him yet, but as soon as he started shifting, the bright light would inevitably give him away. There was no way it wouldn't especially with how dark it was outside, and he winced as his already throbbing ribs protested against the thought of getting more injured.

Still, he pushed forward, not giving himself the chance to debate anymore about shifting. He could hope that he wouldn't get injured, but there really was no saying what would happen here. Tommy could only hope.

Distantly, he heard the people closest to him let out questioning noises, all of them vaguely threatening, but pushed on, not even wincing at the familiar pain of his bones rearranging themselves back into the form of a human.

When he opened his eyes, he was staring straight at a person, whose gun was trained on him, and who also had a vaguely astonished look on his face, probably from how Tommy got up here. Instinctively, he sent the guy a grin, despite the fact that he couldn't see it.

"I'm going to take a swing in the dark and say that you're not here for medical attention," it seemed to startle the man out of his confused state, the pistol he was holding cocking.

He took a step forward, "I don't know how you got up here vigilante, but I'll take great pleasure in being the one to kill you."

Tommy tilted his head like a confused puppy, though his eyes shined with malice, "yeah, no thanks."

The guy took another step forward, and Tommy raised an eyebrow, surprised he hasn't tried to shoot at me yet. Ah well. His mistake.

Without giving him any time to react, Tommy used his hands to push his legs up, hitting the guy in the jaw, before landing in a crouch. He let out a grunt of pain, and Tommy shot down, listening to the rain of gunfire as people shot at the corner, hearing the commotion and responding accordingly.

His eyes traced over the fallen form of the fallen form of the guy, pistol launched from his hand, slowly moving up. Mentally, he catalogued everything he could see about the guy, hoping that the rest of the people had similar gear so he knew what to expect.

A vest under his shirt -bulletproof or just resistant? he wasn't sure. The legs didn't seem to have much protection. Hidden knives around his body, though he only had one gun. Tommy wasn't sure how much that could affect the other people there too. No physical traits to show powers, which was unfortunate. Be prepared, don't let your guard down.

The guy sent him a look Tommy couldn't decipher, before shooting his hand forward, the gun automatically attracting to it. He can attract objects, got it. Is it just metal, or maybe small objects? What's the limit? How- not now Tommy. You have to focus.

He didn't let the guy have a chance to shoot, grabbing hand with the gun, before twisting it as hard as he could. There was an audible snap, and he heard the guy grab out in pain, but paid it no mind, instead grabbing the other hand, snapping three of the fingers on it. He probably wouldn't be too much of a problem now.

After a moment of hearing shouting and approaching footsteps, Tommy forced himself to stand up, pushing the medical equipment to the side. His head tilted, and he mentally tracked the people he could see.

Twelve people in front of him. How many more were in other rooms? He guesses he'll find out. All seemed to have similar gear to the first guy's, though they had different amounts of guns. Three had physical powers: one with elf-like ears -some kind of hearing enhancement?-. one with rock-like skin, and one with gills and fins covering her body. The other nine people were mysteries, and the first physical-trait wasn't exactly a full-proof assumption. He'd have to remain cautious.

Tommy cocked a grin, forcing his posture to remain slouchy -appear weak, they won't think that you're a threat. At least, the won't think you're a threat if they're as smart as the average person-, tilting his head slightly, "hey fellas. You wanna tell me what you're looking for, or are we going to do this the hard way?"

Twelve guns cocked on him, and several knives were aimed his way too. Tommy let out a sigh, "hard way it is I guess."

He vaulted over the medical bed in front of him, skillfully flipping to the side, though a bullet grazed his calf, and he let out a barely audible hiss. That was one lecture from Purpled already, plus a session with Drista.

The closest person to him was just a few feet away, and he grabbed his arms, twisting them behind the guy, who let out a cry of pain, before several bullets were being shot towards them, three embedded themselves in the guy he was holding in front of himself, and another hit Tommy's arm. He swallowed down the noises of pain he wanted to make. Tommy had experienced far worse.

The guy was dropped to the ground, and Tommy grabbed the gun, cocking it and shooting at the two people furthest away from him -one of which was the person with gills and fins- both shots landing somewhere mid-waist, though Tommy moved on immediately, dropping the gun. They'd take a few seconds to move after that.

A knife was held to his throat, and Tommy instinctively grabbed it, flipping himself over the guy, pulling the arm back with him, before kicking the guy in the back, watching as he fell to the floor.

It became like a record in his mind. Kick, punch, flip, grab, get hurt, get punched back, attack, repeat. Again and again, until he wasn't even sure if it was himself fighting, or some other person. More and more people came into the room, and Tommy swore that with each new rush of adrenaline he grew less in control. At least three of the twenty or so knocked down people in the room were dead, most of the others suffering grievous injuries or knocked fully unconscious. There were three left standing, and Tommy barely even felt his wounds anymore.

Seven gunshot grazes, several broken or cracked ribs, three gunshot wounds that were fully implanted into his flesh -one in the thigh, one in his shoulder, and one in the arm-, most likely a concussion of some sort, cuts and stabs all over himself, and he'd probably have tons and tons of bruises appear in the morning. Most of the wounds didn't look that bad from the outside though.

He flipped the guy in front of him, slamming him into another guy and knocking them both to the floor, before slamming his hand into the already beat up guy behind him, probably giving him a concussion at least, though for good measure he spun around and kicked the guy in the throat too, before ripping the gun out of his hand and shooting at the two people he had knocked down before, watching after three bullet wounds appeared in the first guy's chest, and the second had two. They were both probably dead now, or would be very soon.

The hand with the gun dropped to his side, and Tommy took a step back, glancing at the guy who was injured behind him, before bringing his foot down on the guy's head, probably crushing his nose. It was bad that this didn't even affect him anymore -the amount of blood in the room, the death and pain he had just caused that was surrounding him. At this point he was just...numb to it. It was normal. The facility had raised him to be able to do this, they just probably didn't expect it to be used against them.

His breathing was uneven, coming out in huffs again and again as he struggled to breath normally. Adrenaline was still rushing through his veins, and he didn't look up until he heard a low whistle, instinctively moving the gun in that direction and taking a shot, his head whipping up to stare at whoever it was.

The person standing there was just a normal guy, no armor like the rest of them, though he seemed to be the least nervous too. A smoking bullet hole was in the wall right next to his head, just slightly to the right, and Tommy wondered whether the guy had dodged or if his aim had just been the slightest bit off, enough to let the guy live.

He nudged the body closest to him with his foot, turning him over with a slight chuckle, "you truly are a force to be reckoned with, aren't you? You know all the rumors about you seem to indicate you're nothing more than a bored child doing this for fun."

"Rumors aren't always correct," Tommy growled, tossing the gun to the side, his finger reaching and fiddling with the knife on his belt.

A smile flickered on the guy's face, and his red eyes focused on Tommy, "true. The Egg would love to have you as a part of its ranks, if you would join."

He growled, “I’m not really a fan of cults of criminal gangs, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I thought that would be your response,” he shrugged, “thought I’d offer though.”

He stepped forward, and Tommy fully gripped the knife, pulling it from his belt, “you’ve become quite the thorn in our side S-264. You interrupted our operation here, and we’ve heard you’ve been interrupting our people out of here too.”

Tommy tensed at the words, full on freezing at the use of his experiment ‘name’. Instinctively, he shot forward, pressing the guy against the wall, knife against his throat.

“Who the fuck told you about that?” He ground out, pressing the knife further into the skin when the guy just laughed.

“The people you’ve talked to aren’t as loyal as you might think,” he smiled sweetly at Tommy, “they suggested we handle you immediately. We disagreed, you’re a valuable unit. I’m beginning to think we should have though. I mean, we only got one dosage of the chemicals needed to subdue X-02 today! You’re becoming quite the hinderance.”

Tommy growled again, pressing the knife closer, “what’s your plan?”

“Go ahead and kill me,” he hissed, “there will always be someone to replace me. It doesn’t matter how many of us you take, there will always be more. You don’t scare me. No amount of pain you cause me will get me to break.”

He paused, moving the knife away from his throat. Trigeminal nerve. Not a fun thing to have someone put a knife in.

“Are you sure?” He murmured, pressing the knife in slowly, listening intently as the guy let out a scream of pain, before stopping midway through, glancing at the guy, “I’ll ask you again, what’s your plan?”

The guy spit at him after a few moments of catching his breath, a splotch of red in it, “go fuck yourself kid. You’re just as bad as your caretakers.”

Tommy let out a laugh, though hatred at himself for being similar to them at all buried itself in his gut, “wrong. At least I don’t experiment and torture perfectly innocent eight-year-olds. I do think that gives me a leg up on them.”

Just as he was about to push the knife back in, the window crash open, and the elevator door dinger. Several footsteps, the wind picking up, and guns cocking.

An achingly familiar voice called out to him, cold and angry, “put your hands behind your back you fucking psychopath.”

“Now now,” he heard himself call out, dropping the guy and putting the bloodied knife back in his belt loops, “I’d watch your mouth. Wouldn’t want Tempest to get a reputation for swearing.”

Tommy was fucked.

Chapter Text

Tommy didn’t think there was ever a time he had been as grateful for his ability to appear calm in high stress situations as he was now. 

Because he was currently surrounded by dead and passed out people, all injured in some way. And across from him was his brother who didn’t know who he was, behind him was his dad, wings enlarged like a threatened animal, and behind his first brother he could spy his other one, face stoic but still disturbed.

Tommy forced his hands behind him, tilting his head, “you can shoot me if you want, but I can guarantee you’ll end up regretting it.”

A few guns were aimed towards him, and he heard Zephyrus shuffle behind him, “you saying that to get out of dying?”

Wilbur glanced to a kid in the crowd, around his age, who nodded subtly. He wondered what they were talking about.

“Nope,” he popped the p, shrugging, “I’ve wanted to die for a long time. There are just things I know that I doubt you’d like to not be informed of. Like why these people were here, for example.”

Techno blinked, tilting his head, “Sage?”

The kid’s hand tightened, and he nodded.

“Fine,” Wilbur ground out after a moment, and Tommy heard his Dad shuffled closer again, “but you’re coming with us for interrogation.”

Tommy shrugged, “fair enough. You can cuff me with power restraints too if it’s make you feel more comfortable.”

He’s tucked his hands in front of him, turning to his Dad with a raised eyebrow, who blinked at him in surprise. The power restraining cuff was in his hand, just like he guessed, and he stuck his hands forward again.

They all seemed to be looking at him with an unreadable expression, “you’re okay with having your powers restrained? I’ve had those things on for minutes and it feels like a part of myself is being taken away.”

Wilbur sounded incredulous, and Tommy snorted, forcing himself to suppress a wince as the cuff went around his wrist, his sleeve pushed up, and he felt his powers disappear, the thrum in his veins he had grown used to going silent.

“I was forced to wear experimental versions of these cuffs for years. And those were designed specifically to be painful for me. I think I can handle ones that aren’t meant to be painful. Besides,” his grin grew feral under the mask, and he eyed the people inspecting the bodies, “I’m not exactly scared I’ll be unable to fight.”

He didn’t elaborate, ignoring any questions they gave him, and instead tilting his head at his Dad, “am I going to the elevator?”

Slowly he nodded, and Tommy couldn’t help the elation at being so confusing to the heroes. There was something so satisfying at being able to confuse them with simple, truthful words.

He walked towards the elevator in long strides, well aware of the people and guns following him. Under his breath, he hummed lightly, a pleasant tune directly contrasting the element of the room. He was great at that, he supposed, being a conflicting factor to everything else that was going on around them.

The elevator was a slight squeeze with the heroes and himself, but he managed. It was quiet, suffocatingly so, but he didn’t let up on his humming, taking the time to analyze them.

Wilbur, Techno, and his Dad were obvious. Tommy knew what they looked like now, could hear their voices more clearly in his head, had memories attached to them. He remembered flying with his Dad, Wilbur playing guitar to him at night, Techno reading to him. They were…familiar. Not quite to the point of memories resurfacing, but enough to make him relaxed around them.

There were three other people there with them. Two of them seemed to be around his age, and one of them was Nemesis. 

The two kids seemed close together, unsure of the situation. One was the kid people kept looking at, the one that Techno called ‘Sage’, and the other kid he had seen out on patrol with him before, the one with black and white hair. Neither had masks on of any sort, and Tommy took a moment to memorize their faces, hoping to find out who they were later.

He saw Wilbur reaching towards him out of the corner of his vision, and rolled his eyes, sending him a look, “if you touch my mask or goggles, I guarantee the only thing you might get out of it is a missing hand.”

That seemed to startle him slightly, obviously not expecting to get caught, and Tommy internally rolled his eyes, wondering if anyone had ever taught them not to show their emotions to the enemy. They would inevitably try again, but Tommy wanted their game of cat and mouse to continue on a little longer. Besides, he could always drop a few hints here and there about their brother for them.

It was silent for a few more seconds, until the elevator dinged. Most of the people filed out, and Tommy obediently walked along, subtly looking down at his cuff to determine how hard it would be to escape. The inside was smooth, unlike the sharp, bumpy version that they gave him at the Facility, built to dig into his skin and leave, at the very least, bruises behind, if not cuts and a bloodied wrist.

Considering he managed to escape from those cuffs in twenty minutes, though his wrist got thoroughly shredded without being able to cut it off, Tommy guessed that the cuff on his wrist currently would take...maybe three or four minutes for him to get out of. He'll say six, since he'd both need to be quiet, slow, and they seemed to be the finished versions of the cuffs he had worn at the Facility.

They lead him to a bland room, gray walls and a table in the center with three chairs there. He snorted at how cliche it looked. Still, he walked to the other side obediently, sitting down on the cold metal chair with no complaint. His eyes scanned around the room silently, watching as people sat in the chairs outside of the room, obviously listening in, before Wilbur and Sage sat in front of him, one staring at him with an angered and annoyed expression, the other with worry.

He leaned back in his chair, watching as Wilbur clicked on a device, likely a recording.

“Theseus,” he ground out, “are you prepared to answer our out questions?”

He paused, before shrugging, “depends on the questions.”

Wilbur scowled, before nodding, “we’re going to have to take your mask off and identify you to do this.”

“No.”

They blinked at the change of tone, “no?” Wilbur asked incredulously, “you don’t get a say in this Theseus.”

“The hell I don’t,” he ground out, “you don’t scare me. I killed for the first time at eight years old. I’ve been trained to be the perfect soldier for most of my life, I was able to nearly escape from a high tech facility several times, and was the closest to doing so in years. Let’s be clear here, for now, I am operating with you willingly, but one wrong move on your part, if you set me off, there’s no promise that you won’t end up just like the people upstairs. Don’t test me.”

Wilbur stared at him, slightly mortified turning to Sage, who swallowed thickly, before murmuring out a quiet ‘truth’ that Tommy probably wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t listening for it.

So a lie detector power. Let’s seen how far he can push it.

There was silence for a few moments before Wilbur swallowed, “fine, keep you mask on for now. You’ll have to take it off eventually. Let’s start with the questions.”

He leaned forward, and Tommy tilted his head, “how did you get into the tower? We found you because of the cameras going offline and then back on, but none that we’ve found so far have shown how you got in. Even then, the biometric would have automatically switched the cameras.”

Tommy tilted his head, “I didn’t do anything to you systems, if that’s what your asking. The biometric scan was a fault on your own makings.”

“Did it have to do with your power?” He pushed, before pausing, “what’s your power Theseus? Are you a telepath, hydro kinetic, something else?”

Tommy grinned, “ I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Sage seemed confused, probably not used to people making such weird half-truth sentences, but slowly muttered out a ‘truth, all of it,” to Wilbur.

Wilbur let out a breath, before flicking himself in the forehead. Tommy felt the come a little looser on his wrist as he moved his hand out of it. His thumb was definitely going to be dislocated later.

“What were the people in the tower that you…” he paused, staring at Tommy, “stopped doing here?”

Ah. That was one he could answer.

“That story goes kind of far back. Have you ever heard of Project Generations?” He questioned. It was a long shot that either of them knew it, but it would be nice if they did.

Thankfully, Wilbur nodded, though his lips were tilted down into a frown, “yeah, it was a project by the government to create a perfect new generation of heroes. They got people to volunteer and trained their powers far away from society.”

“That’s what they told people?” He blinked, “yeah, that is incredibly off base. That’s what Project Generations was to you, it was very different to the people there.”

He shook his head, “that’s not important. What is, is that Project Generations started with artificial creations rather than already alive humans. The first two of these creations are incredibly dangerous, and are known as R-01 and X-02.”

“They both managed to escape the Facility early on in its development,” he shivered, “but it seems that the people from the Facility managed to find out the location of X-02, and hoped to subdue it. In order to do that, they’re going to need something incredibly powerful to knock him out. Like, say…”

“Anesthetic that’s used for people with powers that require higher dosages,” Wilbur finished, glancing at Sage, who nodded, before looking back at Tommy, "how'd you know that?"

He shrugged, "I hear a lot. As a civilian, I'm pretty unassuming, and people don't care about talking next to the person who looks like a twig."

"Alright," he sounded hesitant, before leaning forward, "you...how do you know about Project Generation? That's a government file."

Tommy snorted, "I was one of the experiments."

Wilbur stared at him, and he swallowed thickly, "I...everyone who was a test subject there volunteered. Everything was in the contract you should have gotten."

"Contract?" Tommy outright laughed, "I got kidnapped before I was even nine. They take you, throw you into a cell with cuffs and the dangerous units get a collar where they could shock you at any time they wanted. You got branded with their name for you, and were forced to watch as we were torn apart and put back together differently. We were bruised and burned and drowned. I had to watch, wide awake, as surgery was performed on me. They trained me to be the perfect weapon, the perfect soldier. And I still am. I'm just using that power against them right now."

Dead silence. He couldn't even hear their breathing, or his own, but his heart beat in his chest. No one moved, not even a twitch, and despite Wilbur having his blindfold on, Tommy could feel his eyes on him.

And then Wilbur, still staring at Tommy, before speaking, "Sage, go outside."

He seemed hesitant, but slowly, he got up, moving towards the door as his eyes kept flicking back to Wilbur and Tommy. His footsteps echoed on the cold floor, but Tommy kept his eyes on Wilbur, staring intently. They didn’t even move when the door shut behind him.

Tommy, you are in so much fucking trouble.

To his credit, Tommy didn’t react, still staring at Wilbur, but not moving a muscle. He didn’t even smile, though he did feel the small need for his lips to twitch up.

Yeah, I figured. You got a way out for me?

Can’t you get out yourself?

He almost snorted, oh, easily. But it’s more dramatic if you do it.

Bastard.

…

Drista’s turning off the lights on my command. There’s a vent not too far from you, we saw through the cameras, and you have to go in. Well turn on the lights once you get fully inside.

Thank you! Wait until I tell you to turn off the lights, I gotta get the cuff off .

And?

…

…and I wanna see where this’ll go. Now shush.

Wilbur moved his hand, still keeping his head angles towards Tommy, though he couldn’t tell if he was still maintaining eye contact, and pressed two buttons on the recording device. The recording clicked off, and massive grates flew over the windowed wall where the other people were visible.

“It sound proofed the room,” Wilbur noted, watching Tommy stare at it, “we can still get in and out. I want to ask you some…personal questions, if that’s alright.”

Please let it be about Thomas, please let it be about Thomas, “yes?”

“When the Project Generation Facility stopped responding, we were sent to see what had happened. Instead, we found a carnage’s building,” Wilbur started, and Tommy didn’t know how to feel about how it was going.

Still, he tilted his head, “ you want to know if I did it?”

Wilbur shook his head, “no. I…I had a little brother, who was taken nearly ten years ago. He…we never managed to find him. He got taken into the woods that the Project Generation facility was in, but we never managed to follow, because it’s government property, and we couldn’t get a warrant to search there. But I memorized the license plate on the last camera shot we got on the car.”

“…and in the carnage, you found the car?” He guessed, hoping that Wilbur hadn’t made the connection to himself and Tommy just yet. Tommy wanted to play a little more.

He nodded, “exactly. I don’t care about if you did it, I want to know if he’s alive.”

Tommy tilted his head, “shouldn’t you involve Zephyrus and Protesilaus in this decision?”

“They think he’s dead,” to his credit, Wilbur didn’t even ask how he knew about their familial relation, sounding bitter at the reminder, “they won't believe that he's alive on the word of a vigilante, I need proof before I can tell them anything. I don’t…if he’s dead, I just want closure. I want to know I can stop looking. And if he’s not…I want to bring my little brother back home. This stays between us, Theseus. Please.”

Tommy blinked, before pausing, “tell me about your brother.”

Wilbur visibly hesitated, “…he got taken when he was 8, his name…his name was Thomas, but he always insisted to be called Tommy. He could shapeshift, had bright blond hair and blue eyes without it. He…he was my sunshine. I loved him- still do. I won’t stop looking for him until I know he’s dead.”

“I…” Tommy didn’t know what to say. It was obvious that Wilbur still cared about him, would keep fighting until he knew he was dead, but…

“Please Theseus,” Wilbur sounded so hopeful, Tommy didn’t think there was a chance that he could have stood against it.

He heaved a sigh, “I don’t enjoy lying to people about possibly-dead family members.”

Wilbur wilted under those words, but Tommy pushed forwards, “so I’ll tell you this.”

You ready Purpled?

Duh.

"You brother was kidnapped when he was eight."

Tell Drista to do it.

"He was eighteen when he staged an escape to get out of the facility with his friends, freeing myself and several other hundred people from their clutches, ending up turning the building into the rubble you saw."

And before another word was said, the lights went out, engulfing the room in darkness.

Chapter Text

"You are an idiot."

Tommy sighed, "I know."

"A goddamn, fucking stupid idiot."

"I- shit," Tommy winced, the bandages around his torso tightening, "fuck- I know."

Drista didn't say anything else, working on the bandages. She was too tired to really do much else on the healing front, but his ribs were just cracked now, and most of his bullet wounds were partially closed at least after they took the bullets out. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for him to survive.

On the other hand, Purpled was currently anxiously pacing through the room, sending various glares towards Tommy as he winced and flinched. Tommy had no doubt that he was going to get a major lecture as soon as Drista was done, and it seemed that she was almost there.

Sure enough, Drista leaned back after a second, running a hand down her face, "alright, that's all I'm going to be able to do for now. Please, for the love of god, try not to injure yourself more."

"Oh trust me," Purpled ground out, taking a few steps towards him, "he's not doing anything that's going to aggravate his injuries. Right Tommy?"

Tommy frowned. As much as he didn't want to piss off his friend, he also couldn't deny how the idea of not doing anything until he was fully healed unnerved him. He was used to running now, to never having a still moment, and sitting around reminded him too much of the Facility.

He opened his mouth briefly, only to have Purpled cover it, sending him a glare, "Right?"

Tommy paused for a second, before sticking his tongue out, grinning in triumph as Purpled pulled his hand away quickly in disgust.

"Did you just lick my hand? That's disgusting! Tommy!" he sent the younger a glare, and Tommy let out a laugh, grinning at his friend with a glint in his eye.

He stuck out his tongue, "suck it!"

"You both are children," Drista rolled her eyes, but Tommy could see her struggling to hold in a laugh.

Purpled sent him a glare, "you're lucky you're injured right now and I don't feel like making it worse."

Tommy put the back of his hand on his forehead, "oh yes, I'm so lucky for being injured to the point of bed rest. Why must you treat me this way?"

"You dramatic bastard," Purpled elbowed him in the stomach, ad Tommy let out a laugh, elbowing him back.

They dissolved into laughs, three friends laughing on the bathroom floor after they had just nearly saved the life of one of their friends. He unconsciously grabbed Purpled's arm, pressing his face into his friend's shoulder to try and muffle the laughter.

After a few minutes, the laughing died off, but they stayed sitting in their positions, lazy grins on their faces as their eyes flitted around the room. Tommy leaned his head back after a moment, staring at the ceiling.

He let out a sigh, "I want to help him."

"Hm?" Purpled sounded confused, but Tommy closed his eyes.

"Wilbur," he clarified, "I want to help him found out who I am."

He could almost feel Purpled's raised eyebrow, "you want to reveal who you are?"

"No," he shook his head, "I want to give him hints. He has to figure it out for himself."

"Wasn't that the original plan?" Purpled questioned, confused.

Tommy squinted his eyes open, raising an eyebrow, "no, before I wanted to give them all vague hints that couldn't directly be connected back to me. Now, I want to directly give them information to find Tommy as Theseus. Saying I know him, saying I saw him," he shrugged, "maybe showing him footage from the Facility."

"How would we even get footage from the Facility, didn't we destroy it all?" Purpled questioned.

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, before pausing as Drista let out a suspicious cough. They both turned to her with a raised eyebrow, and she gave them a sheepish grin, "you know how I was allowed around the Facility until I was 10, when they started making security better and thought I might be a risk? I downloaded all the files until then -they're on a flash drive in my room. We could edit yours to be alone on a different one, make it harder to recognize you, and then you could give it to Wilbur as Theseus if you want."

It was silent for a few moments, before Tommy burst out laughing, sending her a grin, "Drista, you beautiful asshole, I love you. This is going to be so entertaining."

Chapter Text

Tommy groaned, pushing his head further into the cushion of the couch that he was laying on. He skin itched with the want to move, but he didn't have a reason to.

Going outside by himself felt like a bad idea, like he was becoming a wide open target, and both Drista and Purpled were down in the lab, though Sam wasn't there today. Despite having the files that Drista downloaded, they were both encrypted and needed to be edited so that no one could mistake the person on screen with Theseus without making a few other connections first.

Still, as much as he was grateful for everything they were doing for this, Tommy couldn't help but wish that one of them was there to let him do something comfortably. He pushed his head further into the cushion, ignoring the background noise of the TV as he tried to focus on the grounding feeling it gave him.

After a few moments, there was a tug on his pant leg, and he tilted his head up, glancing back, only to be met with the seven eyes of Shroud staring back at him. His brow furrowed in concern as he saw the tears pricked at the edge of them, and carefully, he pushed himself into a sitting position, patting the area next to him as an invitation for the thirteen-year-old to join him on the couch.

When he didn't, seeming to curl into himself more, Tommy felt himself become even more concerned, "Shroud? Buddy?"

The spider-hybrid ducked his head, muttering an apology before hoisting himself up onto the couch. Tommy moved an arm around his shoulder, hoping that touch was what he needed right now, and internally cheering when the other seemed to melt under the touch. It was a little more of a struggle than before, especially since Shroud had been growing more and more, but Tommy managed, thankful that Shroud was a little shorter than most.

He raised his other hand to brush the hair out of the younger's face, before resting it on his cheek, "something happen?"

After a moment, Shroud moved to tuck his head against Tommy's shoulder, burying it in the crook of his neck. Tommy let out a small laugh, before moving his arms around him in a hug, as awkward as the position felt to him.

"You wanna talk about it buddy?" he questioned quietly, hoping not to make anything worse for him.

It was quiet for a few moments, the TV playing softly in the background, before Tommy heard a sniffle, and his scarf started to get damp. Immediately, he murmured words of affection into Shroud's hair, hugging the younger tightly.

"Hey, hey, it's okay buddy. Let it out, just let it out," Tommy wasn't' the best at comforting people, but he could try at least, for Shroud's sake.

Shroud stopped after a moment, wrapping his own arms around Tommy, "I...I thought we were back-that all this -that this had been a dream! And I was -so scared, I thought -Toms, they were there and standing over me, and -I thought I lost you guys, and everything was so bright and white and I-"

He cut himself off with a whimper, pushing closer to Tommy, and the older instinctively tightened his grip around him, "hey, hey, Shroud. I need you to look at me buddy, alright? I'm not mad, I just need you to see that I'm not going to lie."

After a moment, Shroud tilted his head back, tear-filled and red eyes staring into Tommy's blue ones. He let out a small breath, before maneuvering to push his forehead against Shroud's own.

"If I have any say in out future buddy, you're never going back there. I don't care what it takes, I don't care what I have to do," he squeezed his eyes shut, "you lost most of your childhood to them already, you're not loosing anymore on my watch. I promise you Shroud, you're not going back."

The promise weighed deeply on him, a reminder of how he might not be able to keep it, but he pushed through. Shroud was still crying slightly, but after a few seconds, he let his lips twitch up and let out a small laugh.

Tommy grinned, though he could still see the slight shakes and tremors to his body. His grip tightened as he silently vowed that he would do whatever it took to help Shroud, before pausing.

Was this how his brothers felt all those years ago, when Tommy was only a child? Granted, he had been a bit younger than Shroud, but the feeling of keeping him safe, of promising safety and doing whatever it took..was that how they felt?

He really hoped that he could do a better job of keeping that promise than they did. As much as they tried, they obviously didn't have enough to keep him out of the hands of the Facility.

After a few minutes of letting Shroud shake himself out of the anxiety of what Tommy assumed to be a nightmare, he nudged the boy, grinning when the seven red eyes turned up to look at him.

"You want some hot chocolate?" he questioned, "or we can go outside, look around a bit, just get some fresh air."

After a moment of consideration, Shroud grinned, "both? Please?"

Tommy pretended to look deep in thought, as though he was thinking of protesting, before agreeing. The cheers from Shroud made it worth it, and he forced himself to get off the couch, though Shroud was still hanging from him like a koala.

Even as he struggled to move around the kitchen, grabbing everything he would need, complaining about the added weight Shroud brother, he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. Yeah, he could get used to having a younger brother.

Chapter Text

Tommy tapped the wall behind him idly as he waited for Shroud to get ready. He had sent the younger out to go get some proper clothes on, and had changed himself, though he was much faster than Shroud. Distantly, he wondered if that came from getting used to changing into a vigilante, or from something in the Facility. He wasn't sure, and he probably never would be.

With a sigh, he slipped his phone out from his pocket, typing the password in, before opening the messages conversation he had with Purpled and Drista. He paused for a moment, considering, before typing out few short messages.

Red: im heading out with Shroud for a little

Red: msg me once u finish with the files

Red: and have Wilbur's contact info

Nodding at the words, he slipped the phone back into his jean pocket. It would be enough for them to know what was going on, and his location was on already, so if something went wrong, they'd know where he was.

He turned his head towards the rooms, where he knew Shroud was getting ready, and let out a huff. It wasn't the kid's fault he was so impatient, but he couldn't help but have the need to move bubble up under his skin again as he waited, itching with the need to fightrunjumpfightprotectrunhelpfight escape the confines of the building.

Instead, he forced himself to move to the bathroom, mentally running through the checklist of everything he needed  to have for when he went outside. His phone was in his pocket, and he had grabbed forty bucks from his room in case they needed to buy something. He had the small pocket knife with him too, just in case something went wrong -you could never be to careful. In his other hand, he had a chapter book, one called The Hidden God that Tommy hadn't gotten around to reading yet, but thought he might be able to, depending on where Shroud chose to go.

Tommy pushed the door open with his shoulder once he was in front of it, before closing it behind him to stare at himself in the mirror. It was startling, in a way, to see how he looked now when the image of how he looked nearly a year ago was still burned into his head -an image that would never, ever leave.

His hair had been tied up into a ponytail -a few strands had fallen out and were framing his face. The only time they had cut it was once after their initial escape, and a few months ago. He fumbled with one of the ends, noting that they'd have to cut it again soon.

A bandaid covered his brand, and the scarf Charlie had given him was still tied around his neck, covering the burn scars. It had been a while since he'd seen Charlie, Tommy noted, and made a mental note to seek out the vigilante at some point. Maybe he could do it the next time that he went down to the Casino to work.

His t-shirt was one Purpled had bought him a month ago for Christmas, in a bundle with a couple of Greek mythology shirts. This one depicted a silhouette of Icarus, falling from the sky, and he couldn't deny how much he loved it. On top, he had put maroon flannel, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His arms were covered with black finger less gloves -he didn't exactly want to broadcast his scars to the world, it wasn't theirs too see. Tommy didn't owe them anything.

More so, he didn't want Shroud to see the thin, long marks on either wrist. They were a reminder of his weakness and selfishness, when he knew that there were people who relied on him, and he tried to give it all away anyway. He didn't want to remember that, and Drista and Purpled knowing was already too many people.

Tommy had thrown on his favorite pair of jeans too -dark blue ones that were a little loose, made him seem a little less thin to most people, unless they were looking closely- and his only pair of shoes besides his works ones -both casino and vigilante-, a pair of red converse that were only slightly too big for him.

It was slightly rushed, and it didn't exactly match the best, but he...Tommy couldn't deny how much better he looked now compared to how he had all those months ago. His hair was clean, his eyebags -while not even close to gone- were fading slowly, his clothes were new(ish, at the very least), he had a device, he had a family. After a moment, his lips twitched up into a smile at the thought. Even though he was trying to find his biological family, he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to. He was...different now. No where near the innocent little boy they had lost.

Tommy shivered at the thought that they would hate him. That they would hate him for what happened to him and who he became.

Slowly, he pushed the bathroom door back open, slipping outside, before glancing at Shrouds, and huffing at the fact that he could still hear the younger running around in it.

With a sigh, he stalked towards it, before lightly rapping his knuckles against the wood of the door. Instantly, all movement stopped, and Tommy let out a small sigh.

"Shroud?" he questioned, dropping his hands, "you almost done?"

The movement started up again ,and Tommy could hear Shroud move towards the door. A muffles, "coming, sorry!" came through the wood, and Tommy backed up until he was barely an inch away from the wall directly facing Shroud's door.

Almost as soon as he stopped, the door swung open, and Shroud stood there, fully dressed, and smiling brightly. One of his teeth was missing, Tommy noted. A right canine, and Shroud's tongue was peaking through it idly.

The boy was wearing a gray shirt -the only picture on it a small black and red spider, which Tommy had embroidered, near his left collarbone- and a pair of light blue jeans. He had a light blue hoodie pulled over the shirt, and his black sneakers shuffled around a bit anxiously below him.

Tommy nearly wanted to awe at the sight, but refrained himself. Shroud would probably get indignant, and that was the last thing Tommy wanted right now.

After a moment, Shroud frowned up at him, "you okay Toms?"

"Huh?" Tommy startled for a moment, fumbling for an answer in his head, "oh- uh, yes. Yeah! I am, let's, uh, let's go -right?"

Shroud let out a laugh, before fixing him with another stare, "you sure you're okay? You're crying."

Tommy opened his mouth instantly, before pausing. Crying?

He lifted a hand to his cheek, wiping away at the wet drip that had made it's place there. When had he started crying?

"Hm," he murmured, before looking back at Shroud and smiling, "I'm fine buddy. I guess..." Tommy let out a small huff, "I just realized that I have a family, I guess. Everything felt like it was so easily taken away in the Facility, I think I just never registered that you guys were...are my family. It's...a nice thought."

Shroud huffed, "well duh we're your family. Who else was going to put up with you?"

Tommy let out a laugh, before stalking forward and grabbing both of Shroud's sides tightly with his hands. The younger let out a squeak of surprise as Tommy lifted him up, spinning him around.

"That means you're stuck with me as an older brother~" he said in a sing song voice, laughing at how Shroud struggled.

The spider-hybrid let out a sound of indignation, "never mind! I don't wanna be your family if you're just going to betray me like this!"

Tommy set him down slowly, though not without another hug, "seriously though, I couldn't as for a better younger brother," he murmured into his hair, before standing up again.

He clapped his hands, "alright then -out we go?"

"Finally," Shroud moved towards the door, "I wanna go to the park."

Tommy huffed out a laugh and began to follow him, "so demanding."

It took nearly ten minutes to reach the entrance -probably because Tommy had grabbed Shroud and tickled him for nearly a minute, which resulted in the spider-hybrid running away and both of them getting even further from the entrance-, and when they finally did, and were out in the open, Tommy couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief. It was so refreshing to breathe in the fresh air, and no matter how many times he went outside, it still felt like a commodity.

Tommy still expected that familiar stuffy air every time he woke up. The slight tinge of blood he could always seem to smell, the humidity that was just unbearable enough to agitate him, and the heat that always filled it. He was used to it, and as much as he hated it, a part of him missed that certainty of what he would wake up to, everyday without fail. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.

With a sigh, he started moving in the direction of the park, idly wrapping one of his arms around Shroud's shoulders. He had to reach down to do so, but the comfort it brought him of being close to the younger was worth it.

It was peaceful out, even though it was the middle of the day. There were some people milling around the area, but for the most part, they got left alone, for which Tommy was grateful for. He didn't think he could deal with too much social interaction with a stranger -Shroud by himself was enough, thank you very much.

When they made it to the park -Prime Park, to be precise-, Tommy noted idly the kids that were running around. There weren't a lot of adults around either, he noted ,and ignored the way that his gut turned at the thought.

People not paying attention to a kid was how half of the Facility got there. The others either sold themselves into it so they wouldn't die of starvation or getting beat to a pulp on the streets, or were born there. It wouldn't be a stretch to Tommy if someone he met was stolen from this very park.

He let go of Shroud, looking around, before sending the smaller a smile, "have fun bud, I'll probably just be sitting down over there reading," he nodded his head towards one of the benches.

Shroud frowned," don't you wanna come with me?"

Tommy frowned sadly, ruffling his hair, "sorry, I just..." he hesitated, "I don't exactly look like the cheeriest fellow to a lot of other people Shroud, plus, it'll be good for you to make some new friends. I'll just be over there -you can get me for anything you need."

After a moment, Shroud nodded, giving him a small hug, before running off in an attempt to find someone to make friends with. Tommy let his lips twitch up into a smile, before he wandered towards the nearest bench, sitting down quietly, and flipping open the book on his lap so he could start reading.

By the time he looked up -nearly seven chapters into the book-, he finally realized how long he had been reading. Though he couldn't tell the exact time, it had, at the very least, been several hours since they left, and with a sigh, he forced himself to stand up, tucking the book under his arm again, before stretching.

He had to go find Shroud before he could do anything else, and carefully took a moment to glanced around the park. Most of the other families had left -there weren't many kids now, though he could see a few still on the playground equipment.

After a moment, his eyes locked onto the familiar form of Shroud, sitting underneath a tree with another boy who Tommy didn't recognize. His lips twitched up into a smile. Looks like Shroud had managed to make a friend after all.

As much as he didn't want to break up Shroud's time with his new friend, they really did have to head back to the casino now. Not only so that Purpled wouldn't think they had been kidnapped, but Tommy was itching to see if Purpled or Drista had managed to isolate the files he wanted to give to Wilbur.

With a sigh, he started walking over, hesitating just a little away from them, before making up his mind and going up to the tree, knocking on the wood. The other kid flinched away at the sound, looking up at him with fear, and Tommy wondered if something had happened in his life or if he really just looked that scary.

Shroud, on the other hand, looked up unbothered, smiling brightly when he met Tommy's eyes.

Tommy smiled fondly at them, "hey Shroud, and, uh..." he hesitated, glancing at the other boy. He had pig-like features, Tommy noted, with floppy, yet sharp, ears, fingers that were somewhere between claws and hooves, two little tucks peaking just out of his lips, and a thin tail sticking out. Across his right eye there was a massive scar, coating his skin in a whitish color, and almost making it look like it was bone. He was wearing a yellow sweater that was too big for him, and a pair of blue overalls too.

"His name's Micheal," Shroud stated in a knowing voice, before he turned to Micheal, "Micheal, this is my brother T-"

"Theodore," Tommy cut in, glancing around anxiously. He didn't really want people to know his name, even if they were just some random person with no importance that could affect him. Kids might not know who they could or couldn't tell something to, "but you can call me Theo. Thanks for keeping this one company -hope he didn't annoy you too much."

Shroud let out a gasp, shoving him, "fuck you T-Theo!" he hesitated over the name, but Tommy sent him a grateful look, "I'll have you know that I'm a delight!"

Micheal let out a small laugh, and Tommy sent Shroud a questioning look. The younger glanced at Micheal for a second, before leaning towards Tommy and quietly whispering in his ear, "he doesn't like to speak -we've been using lettering to communicate, like you taught me!"

Tommy felt his lips twitch up, before he turned to Micheal again, nodding at the boy, "did you two have fun today?"

Micheal held his hands out instinctively, before pausing, seemingly unknowing if he knew sign language. Shroud nodded encouragingly, "Theo's the one who taught me sign language! We only know the alphabet, but he's better at it then me."

Nodding, Micheal signed a small 'yes' and Tommy grinned, nodding his head in acceptance, before turning to Shroud, "we should probably be heading back now bud," he refrained from using the word 'home'. As much as he liked the casino, it wasn't a home. It was more of a home than the Facility ever was, but it still wasn't a home. It wasn't ever close. He hesitated for a moment, seeing the pout on Shroud's face at having to leave his friend, and sighed after a moment, turning to Micheal.

"Are your guardians nearby? If you want, I wouldn't mind exchanging numbers with them if you guys want to meet up again soon," he advised, silently hoping that Micheal would take him up on the offer. Tommy didn't want to separate Shroud from the first friend he had made out of the Facility right now -but doing it permanently? He didn't think he could realistically do that without wilting to Shroud's cries.

Thankfully, the pig-hybrid nodded, pushing himself up and brushing the dirt and leaves that stuck to him off, before moving in the opposite direction that Tommy had been sitting at. He glanced around anxiously, unsure of where exactly they were going, and unsure how to feel about being led around by a little kid.

Seemingly sensing his anxiousness, Shroud gripped his hand tightly, nudging his side and staring at him with those wide eyes that made him want to keep the younger safe and protected forever. He was annoying, and the bane of his existence, but Tommy would never give anything up for Shroud. They were brothers, and Tommy would do anything for him.

He wondered if this was how Wilbur and Techno thought about him before he was taken, or if they had already given up one him before he was even gone. The thought made him want to scowl, made him question why he was trying to reach out to them in the first place.

Eventually, it became clear that Micheal was leading them to two people, looking no older than Tommy did, though one of them was obscenely tall, sitting together on one of the benches and talking. Immediately, and instinctively, he started categorizing everything he saw about them, both behavior wise and physical wise.

The taller one was wearing a plain black shirt, with a gray hoodie wrapped around his shoulder, a pair of dark blue jeans on, and a maroon beanie. His hair was brown, with half of the bangs colored white and the other half colored black. The most notable thing about his appearance, Tommy had to say, was his eyes. They were mostly brown, but around the inner circle of his eyes, just outside the pupil, there was a circle of red on one eye, and a circle of green, and underneath them, he had small scars that almost looked like burns, which went down to the bottom of his face. Almost unnoticeable to the untrained eye, but Tommy had grown used to seeing the minute details so he could impersonate someone almost perfectly. He seemed more timid than the other one -no, timid wasn't quite the right word. He had the same confidence around him, that same knowingness as the other one, there was just a tinge of...nervousness. He was quieter, and almost hesitant in all of his responses that he made.

Sitting on top of the other's legs, the shorter one looked...similar, to the other, but also so, so different. He was wearing a green button up shirt, with a brow jacket on top, that looked fairly light, should it not have been for the, quite frankly, obscene amount of fluff that decorated the hood and sleeve cuffs. He was wearing black jeans and a pair of boots that matched the coat too, fluff and all. His hair was brown, but a little lighter than the other's hair, and Tommy noted that it kept falling in front of his bright blue eyes, to which he kept wiping it away with a huff. The right side of his face was covered with a burn scar that looked almost similar to his own burn scar on his neck -deep tendrils reaching across the face, though they all stopped at the nose. He seemed a lot more physically confident than the other, and he spoke a lot louder too, but there was still that tenseness, buried deep into his instincts that caused him to look around every once in a while, as if waiting for an attack.

He noted that they both had a golden ring wrapped around one of their hands. Tommy wondered what they meant to them, he wasn't exactly one to assume.

Micheal went over to them without care, and though Tommy was a little hesitant to head over, he forced himself to go against his instincts and head towards them, still gripping Shroud's hand tightly, and watched as their attention got dragged to them, looking between Shroud and Tommy with a small bit of confusion, before looking back at Micheal and smiling.

The smaller one hopped off the bench, kneeling down onto the concrete pavement, before picking Micheal up in a hug, "hey there! Did you have a fun time?"

Once he was let go, Micheal nodded vigorously, gesturing at Shroud, to which the older looked at Tommy for an explanation.

Tommy sent him a smile, "Micheal and Shroud hung out while we were here. I don't think I could permanently separate them in good conscious, so they were wondering if we could exchange phone numbers so they could meet up sometime?"

They paused for a moment, before the shorter sent him a bright smile back, standing up and brushing the dirt off of his knees and extending a hand to Tommy, "we'd love to! I'm Tubbo, and that's Ranboo. We're designated to the hero-in-training committee of L'Manburg -and we're Micheal's designated carers, though he's pretty much like a younger sibling of ours at this, edging on son. Nice to meet you..." he paused, hesitating.

"Theodore," Tommy paused, moving a hand to him, before hesitating briefly, "Theodore Karmi. But you can call me Theo."

The taller -Ranboo- stood up, towering over Tommy, though he slouched significantly, making them nearly the same height, "nice to meet you," he paused, sending a look to Tubbo, before looking back at Micheal, "you guys can go play for a little bit while we talk. We'll call you over once we're done."

They cheered -or, rather, Shroud cheered while Micheal pumped his fist in the air- and ran off towards the nearest tree. Tommy didn't have to heart to tell them to stop, and watched them run with a fond smile. He barely knew Micheal, but the younger had almost stolen his heart away already -he hoped that they ended up staying friends, Micheal seemed like he might be a good influence on Shroud.

After a moment, he glanced back at Tubbo and Ranboo, who were watching him curiously, and Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, ignoring the blush that built up on his face, "sorry. Shroud, uh...he hasn't made any friends since we came here. It's nice to see him have someone to hang out with."

They smiled in understanding, and Tubbo pulled his phone out, which Tommy repeated, ignoring the way that his heart rate sped up when he saw the messages from Purpled. He had to keep up appearances right now -he could freak out about the message later.

"Micheal hasn't gotten the chance to make many friends yet either," Ranboo commented, eying them as Shroud climbed the tree, trying to drag Micheal behind him, "his parents died in a house fire, got taken in to the hero program soon after that since his closest living relative was a hero. They died too, but he was already too deep in to leave, and we got assigned his caretakers. There aren't exactly a lot of times to make friends while training to be a hero."

Tommy sent them a look, pulling up his phone number quietly, "you'd know?"

He let out a laugh, "yeah, been officially part of it since we were fifteen, but we've been unofficially training since we were six. We..." he frowned, "we had a friend back in preschool and early elementary. His family were heroes, and we got connected to them through it. He disappeared when we were eight or nine though."

Tommy froze, before forcing himself to keep up appearances. The story sounded really fucking familiar, and it would be just his luck if they were related to him as well. Was there anyone in this city who wasn't?

"I'm sorry," the words felt foreign coming out of his mouth, "it sucks you didn't get to know him well."

Tubbo shrugged, "we don't remember much about him, but I know we were really good friends at the time. His brothers tell us stories about dumb shit we used to do."

It was silent for a moment as Tubbo made a chat with the three or them, before Ranboo coughed, sending him a slightly-awkward smile, "anyway, that's enough about us. What about you and Shroud?"

"Ah," he thanked the heavens that they had created a cover story in case something like this happened, "Shroud isn't my biological brother. His parents died when he was young, and my parents adopted him. They died a little less than a year ago, and we moved here -with my other siblings- to stay with a family friend for a little while we figure out our situation."

Tubbo nodded, slipping his phone back in his pocket, and Tommy heard the buzz that came with getting added to a new group chat, "makes sense. You have a job right now?"

"Our friend owns a casino," he said, "I work there during the day sometimes, dealing cards out and helping people get situated."

"Owns a casino," Ranboo murmured, before perking up, "Quackity? Your family friend is Quackity?"

Tommy blinked, "uh, yeah. How d'you know him?"

"He's friends with our family friends," Ranboo let out a laugh.

Tommy hesitated briefly before sending them a smile, "you're training to be heroes, right? You got names yet so I know who I should be rooting for?"

"Not that hard to figure out who we are," Tubbo laughed, "but I'm Sage -lie detector- and this one," he jabbed Ranboo in the stomach, who let out an indignant yelp, "is Lethe. He teleports."

Sage. Tommy had to bite his tongue to stop himself from mentioning Sage. He felt like an idiot, not realizing who they were before. Ranboo was the one who was out on patrol with Techno -teleporting still didn't feel like the full extent of his power, and Tommy wondered what the logistics were- and Tubbo was the one with a lie detecting power that they used on him when he got taken in with the heroes. He'd have to be very careful not to actually lie with Tubbo in the room.

"Good to know," he murmured, before focusing back in on the conversation and sending them a smile, "I have photographic memory, just so you know," technically, it wasn't a lie. He was fairly sure that having photographic memory was at least part of his power, so he just wasn't telling them everything.

He glanced back over at Shroud and Micheal, before looking down at his phone. 5:38.

Tommy sighed, "we should probably start heading back now. I'll message you in a day or two to see when they can meet up again?"

"Sounds good!" Tubbo called behind him, before turning towards Ranboo and starting a murmured conversation with him. Tommy wondered what they were talking about, and how much of his cover story had registered as a lie. He really hoped that most of it didn't, because that was going to be a nightmare to explain if they asked.

He stalked over to the tree Shroud had climbed, where Micheal was standing, though he stopped at the base, raising a playful eyebrow, "Shroud, we have to go, c'mon down."

"Never!" he called through the branches, and Tommy rolled his eyes.

"I will come up there to get you," he threatened, and he wondered how seriously Shroud would take the threat, even though it was halfhearted.

He heard a scoff from up above, "I'm not scared of you, I can climb much faster."

"Maybe so," he relented, before grinning deviously, "but I can absolutely throw away all of the hot cocoa we have at home."

It was quiet for a moment, before he heard the rustling of leaves, and Shroud stuck his head out of the bottom of the tree, staring at him, "you wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" Tommy was well aware of the shit-eating grin on his face, which only grew as Shroud huffed and dropped out of the tree, expertly landing on his feet, before standing up and staring at Tommy with a pout, crossing his arms.

After a moment of their staring contest, Tommy looked away, instead focusing his attention on Micheal, sending the younger a quick smile, "we're gonna head home now -I'll message Tubbo and Ranboo in a day or two so we can talk details about you two meeting up again."

He nodded in acceptance, moving to head towards the older two still waiting for him, before almost being knocked to the ground by Shroud, who ran towards him and tackled him in a hug.

After a moment, he let go, smiling brightly at Micheal, "it was good meeting you, I can't wait to hang out again!"

Tommy tuned out their goodbye, instead pulling his phone out to the conversation with Purpled and Drista, which he had - notifications for.

Purple: We're almost done isolating and distorting the files you wanted.

Purple: and we got your brother's phone number

Purple: here

Underneath, there was an attached contact, and after a moment's hesitation, Tommy clicked on it. Sam and Drista had worked to make their phones near untraceable, which Tommy was thankful for, but it didn't stop the slight fear that they would still be able to track him.

He paused, shaking his head. Tommy couldn't do it on this phone -especially not since Tubbo and Ranboo seemed to know Wilbur and Techno. If they figured out that Theo and Theseus were the same person, they'd know exactly where to find him. He wanted a bit more of a game out of it than that.

With a sigh, he pocketed the phone again, glancing up at Shroud, who was watching Micheal walk over to Tubbo and Ranboo with a slight frown. Tommy sighed -he knew that separating Shroud from his first friend would be difficult, that wasn't really a question.

He moved other and nudged Shroud's shoulder, "c'mon. You'll get to see him soon, and we should be heading back."

"I..." he hesitated, before turning towards Tommy with a smile, "yeah. We'll see him soon. Let's go!"

Shroud scampered on ahead, and Tommy huffed out a laugh, before following him slowly back to the casino, careful to never let the spider-hybrid out of his sight. Shroud could defend himself, but Tommy felt safer knowing that, should he need to, he could leap in to defend his brother too.

By the time they got back, Shroud had gone straight to bed. Drista and Purpled were still nowhere to be found, so Tommy assumed that they were finishing up with the files, editing them a little more to make it seem a little bit less like Theseus, and he smiled at the thought of how much care and effort they were putting into them. It made him feel...good. Happy. Appreciated.

Still, he grabbed the burner phone Sam had given him, input the number, and stared at the screen for nearly thirty minutes, unsure of what he wanted to write. There was so much he wanted to say right now, so much he wanted to tell him, but not enough time, and too many options if he wanted to make it a game for them. He had to tell enough that Wilbur would know it was him, but little enough that no one else would if they found Wilbur's phone. He paused, taking a deep breath in, before writing what he needed to, what he should write to Wilbur.

You: Hello Tempest, or should I say Wilbur Soot, formerly known as Wilbur Craft? You questioned me about my knowledge on your missing brother, Thomas Craft, for which I have information on. Though I'm no fan of heroes, I do love reuniting lost families, so I'd love to give you the information I have.

You: Should we come to an agreement on a neutral place -and private place- I would be happy to show you the files Orpheus, Atalanta and I have gathered over the years. If it would soothe your worry, I'd even be happy to give something of worth of my own up, should it not reveal my identity.

That seemed like a good enough olive branch to him.

Chapter Text

Tommy sighed, brushing a hand through his hair.

Two days. It had been two days since he had sent that message to Wilbur. It had taken a bit of convincing for him to believe Tommy wasn't lying -both about being Theseus and knowing about his brother-, including him giving up his baseball bat and knife in exchange for Wilbur meeting him.

Picking the place had taken even longer. A neutral ground, but somewhere private. Somewhere they could talk uninterrupted until Wilbur had to go back to the hero headquarters.

Tommy wasn't allowing Purpled or Drista to listen in. He had a distress button, should something go wrong, but he had a feeling that Wilbur wouldn't risk information about Thomas for something like a petty grudge against a vigilante. Truly, he hoped that Wilbur was alone. It would be so much harder to tell him what he needed to know with another set of prying eyes there.

Eventually, they had landed on one of the abandoned buildings out at the edge of the city -specifically, one of the churches, part of his broken down, and weathering, but still there, unused. It was neutral enough ground, and Tommy had gone to check and make sure that there weren't any cameras there, so they would most likely be fine.

He twisted the flash drive in his grip, glancing at the laptop that sat next to him. Wilbur hadn't wanted to risk the flash drive being a virus, so he had asked that Tommy bring the laptop for them to watch on, which was understandable, he supposed. A little offensive, but understandable.

At the moment, he was dressed up in his Theseus outfit, waiting in the church for Wilbur to eventually arrives. A part of him desperately hoped this would go well, while the other hoped that it would go horribly so he'd never have to worry about having Wilbur back in his life again. He wasn't sure which he believed in more -wasn't sure which he should believe in more.

The screensaver on the laptop flashed again as he swiped his glove over the mouse, before leaning back. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait without literally bursting at the seems with anticipation for how this would go. This was the make or break moment for him -would he even try and let Wilbur, Techno, and Phil back in his life? He wasn't sure yet. Maybe he wouldn't be sure after, but maybe he'd be a little closer to being sure. He hoped he would be, at least.

As if sensing his thoughts, he heard a thud outside of the building, and held his breath. The wind picked up again, and after a few tense moments of waiting, Tommy heard footsteps, quiet, but noticeable, echoing through the hall of the church.

When Wilbur appeared from the hallway, tense as he stalked through the room, Tommy felt his eyes trace over his form. Despite the blindfold covering his eyes, he looked so...tired. Exhausted. Like he had been stressing over this for a long time. He might have, honestly, since he was the only one who believed that Tommy was alive.

"Tempest," he greeted, "how are you?"

Wilbur ignored him, moving until he was standing directly in front of Tommy, towering above him as the vigilante lounged on one of the church benches, "you have information regarding my younger brother, Thomas Craft."

Tommy sighed, sitting up, before waving the flash drive at Wilbur, "that I do. Video files covering from the first day he was taken to just over 3 years ago. They're a little distorted, and the audio isn't the best, plus there might be some missing files, but it's all there, at least, all of what we were able to salvage is there."

Wilbur was silent, so Tommy continued, "I will leave, if you'd like, or I'll stay if you'd prefer, so you have the comfort of being able to strangle me, should this turn out to be fake."

He'd meant it to come off as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but Wilbur growled, "should this turn out to be fake, I'll do so much more than strangle you. To give me false hope about my brother being alive, and then take it away? I don't care what it does to my reputation, you will suffer."

"Please," Tommy scoffed, logging into the laptop and plugging in the flash drive, "should I ever lord a lost sibling over someone else's head, I ask you to shoot me yourself. I never wish to become the person who does that to someone else."

There was silence for a few moments, before Tommy clicked on the folder of the flash drive, pausing, "would you like me to stay or leave? It's up to you."

Wilbur stared at him, contemplating, before nodding his head, "stay. Should this be a joke, I would much prefer to be able to punch you immediately."

Tommy shrugged, "fair enough," he hovered the mouse over one of the files -he wasn't sure which one it was, though it seemed to be the 234th experiment conducted on him-, and slowly, he turned to Wilbur, "are you absolutely sure that you wish to watch the files? You will...they're not pretty. I have watched very few myself," because he was the one there, "but they are...brutal. This is not going to be fun, for either of us."

"I don't care," Tommy almost though Wilbur sounded like he was already crying, "I don't care if they turned my baby brother into a goddamned murderer. He's my brother, and I'm going to do anything in my power to get him back."

Tommy stared at him, ignoring the way that his heart warmed at the reaction, before nodding, "very well. Do you want to start at the first file, the last one, or just a random one?"

Wilbur stared at the screen, "the first one. I want...I want to see how he grew."

Slowly, he nodded in acceptance, scrolling to the bottom, before clicking on the file titled Subject S-264, Experiment #1. With a shaky hand, he pressed play, swallowing thickly.

The footage was grainy, and slightly tinted, but the person on screen was undeniably him. There were tears falling down his cheek, and Tommy remembered that moments before, he had activated the hell that was the collar, which had been his damnation for years. Wilbur sucked in a harsh breath, muttering out a quiet, "oh Thomas," though he said nothing else, and Tommy forced himself to focus on the footage.

"Subject S-264, Experiment 01," a voice called out, mechanical and monotone, though Tommy now recognized the faint hints of malice in it. Now, he knew him as Dr. Samuel, one of the main scientists who had 'worked with him'.

"Wha-What?" the Tommy on screen called out, his tear filled face looking around, scared at his not knowing. He didn't bother to hide his grimace, knowing that Wilbur couldn't see it, nor did he know that it was him on screen, but he couldn't deny that he felt so exposed at having someone else see this. Drista and Purpled were special -his two best friends who had experienced largely the same treatment. But his brother? Tommy didn't know how to feel.

"Experiment 01 will be conducted to see how S-264 is able to react to surroundings in its alternate forms. We will start off with the first trial; water," the monotone voice called out, and Tommy grimaced at the reminder of the trials. There ones hadn't even been that bad -bare minimum, especially compared to the later trials, but he couldn't deny how much they had scared him for life.

The clasp around the Tommy -for simplicity, Tommy was going to start referring to him as Thomas. It made things a lot less confusing in his mind- on screens wrist beeped, and he watched as Thomas wilted visibly in relief at having his power back. He didn't hide his grimace. That wasn't going to last long.

After a second, water began pouring to fill the room, and Tommy heard Wilbur's sharp inhalation of breath, though he purposefully ignored it. He was just some random vigilante to Wilbur -he didn't have the right to comfort him.

Thomas started looking around the room frantically for an escape until the water reached his knees. He could see the moment that he gave up on screen, relented to what they wanted and closed his eyes, focusing on his power.

It took so much longer than he remembered -a few minutes, at least, before he finally took the full shape of a shark swimming around in the water. It stayed like that for a minute or so, before the voice finally spoke up again.

"Water trial has been completed. Let the second trial commence; cold," as soon as he was done, the water began to filter out of the room, much faster than it had filled up, and Thomas shifted back into a human once it was around tall enough to reach his knees when he stood up. He watched the last of the water drain, before Thomas began to shiver and Tommy winced.

Though his resistance to cold had been built up over the years, just as his resistance to heat had, Tommy began to hate both extremes. They were a reminder of what he had gone through, of what he had suffered through.

After about a minute, and Thomas curling into himself to try and keep the cold out, he finally spoke again, "C-cold."

The on screen version of himself was shivering violently by this point, teeth chattering, before he slowly started to shift into a polar bear, taking on the shape after a minute, and curling up in the corner. Soon enough, the speaker crackled to life again.

"Cold trial has been completed. Let the third trial commence; heat."

Immediately, he watched Thomas shift back, barely lasting thirty seconds in the heat before giving up and crying out, before shifting into a camel. Tommy swore he saw a tear slide down Wilbur's cheek, but he couldn't tear his vision away from the camera. It hurt to look at, hurt to remember, but it was a part of who he was, for as much as he hated it.

Barely fifty seconds after he did so, the speakers crackled to life again, "heart trial has been completed. Experiment 01 on S-264 will now be brought to a close."

After a moment, the video turned to black, and Tommy exited it, before turning to Wilbur. He barely bit back the sound of surprise he wanted to make at the fact that Wilbur had taken off his blindfold and was openly crying in front of him.

Wilbur wiped the tears away, letting out a broken laugh, "look at me. It wasn't even that bad, and I'm already crying like a baby. It's just-" he broke off, letting himself fall to the bench next to Tommy, "if that was the start, who knows if he even wants us to be part of his life? He might hate us for not getting him, for all we know."

Tommy barely bit back the 'I don't Wilby. I'm right here, I promise. Don't leave me again, please' that he so desperately wanted to escape. He had to be Theseus right now. So what would Theseus say?

"You know, your brother came up with our names."

He wasn't sure why he said it, but Wilbur looked up at him, curious where he was going with it.

With a sigh, he continued on, "he couldn't remember much about you and your family by that point, but he remembered some things. He remembered that the middle brother, his beloved Wilby," he ignored the way Wilbur flinched at the name, "used to play him music to soothe him. He remembered his dad used to take him for midnight flights and would show him the stars. And he remembered his oldest brother used to read him Greek mythology."

"In response," he continued, looking away, "he learned how to play the guitar, memorized star charts, and read Greek mythology, so that he would never let himself forget you. He gave us our names -Theseus, Orpheus, and Atalanta- because of his memory of his family. Of you."

Tommy leaned his head back, sighing, "Thomas is not who you have to worry about here. If you try -if you genuinely try, I can guarantee that Thomas will accept you into his life. But you have to try, have to accept him for who he is. Don't try to change him, don't try and fit him into who he used to be, just accept him. And he will fit you into his life, I promise you."

It was silent for a moment, before Wilbur sent him a watery smile, "thank you, Theseus."

Another pause, "what was Thomas' name?"

"What?" Tommy blinked, confused.

"Theseus, Orpheus, Atalanta," he elaborated, wiping his tears again, "what was Thomas'?"

Tommy blinked, "he...he didn't have one. But if I had to give him one..."

He hesitated. Thomas, who he was, he wasn't Theseus. Tommy was Theseus now -the one who tried so hard to be the hero he was cast out because of it. But Thomas? Thomas was closer to...to...

"Icarus," he finally settled on, "he was Icarus. He grew so comfortable with being protected that he fell prey to being taken, to disappear. Thomas fell under the tides of the water, but unlike Icarus, he didn't die. When his wings melted away under the water, after the hot wax finished melting his back, he swam. As fast and as far as he could, in the hopes that he would find his family again, that they would still be searching."

Tommy leaned back, "but they forgot Icarus could swim, and gave up on him, however unwilling. He was left in his own personal hell -not one of flames, but one of water. Forever fighting against the tide as he struggled to make his way to land. But he did it, he made it to land, and brought the rest of the lost and abandoned in the ocean with him too."

He glanced at Wilbur, "Tempest, if there is even the smallest of chances you will hate your brother for who he became after what these people did to him, I ask that you leave now. For I will not be another who puts him through his own personal hell."

Wilbur shook his head vehemently, "I'm not abandoning him. I did that once already, I refuse to do it again."

Tommy looked through his eyes, trying to search for even the smallest lie, the smallest recoil of hesitance, but all he saw was pure determination. A need to find his brother, a promise that he would do everything in his power to do it. Institutionally, he opened his mouth, speaking before he even realized what he was doing.

"If you are serious about that, Tempest, then I promise you this. I will help you find your brother, help you understand him, but the rest is up to you. I cannot help you with that."

He really hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake.

Chapter Text

Tommy had only watched a few more videos with Wilbur before he left, not able to handle watching videos of his life. A part of him was confused -this had been his only constant for years, and even though he was getting used to a 'normal' life, it was still strange to think that other people had grown up completely void of the things that he had experienced at the Facility. That they weren't hurt, that they were part of loving families and had loving food to eat, that they got to travel, got to see outside all the time.

He couldn't bear to look at Wilbur, and realize all of the love that he could have been raised with. All the love that was replaced with cold metal walls, electric shocks, surgery, and so much death. Tommy had been reduced to an object, an asset, and was nothing more.

Huffing, he fidgeted with the corner of the blanket on his bed. His mind was racing with possibilities of what Wilbur did with the flash drive, what his reactions were, how much more of it he watched without Tommy. It hurt, a little bit, having to watch as his brother learned about his life. Learned about the life that Tommy had never wanted him to know about.

He let out a growl, pushing the blanket to the side. His head was throbbing, and everything just felt too much. Too bright, too dark, too loud, too quiet. He just...Tommy wasn't sure what he wanted. Just that he wanted to sleep. 

But apparently, that wasn't an option either.

He grumbled as he shuffled through the hallway towards the kitchen, hoping to make himself some tea. Something to calm him down before he tried to sleep again, which would almost certainly not work. There wasn't a light on, and his lips twitched up as he realized that the rest of his friends were either asleep or very thorough in pretending that they were asleep. He hoped that it was the former, but there was always a chance of the latter.

His fingers drummed against the counter when he sat down, internally debating whether or not he really wanted to make tea. A part of him did, but...the itch that was just under his skin, the one that screamed it wasn't safe to stay in one place for too long, he didn't think it would be so easily bested. Tea wasn't going to be able to beat that.

With a sigh, he pushed himself towards the door, pausing at the entrance to glance down at his clothes. His t-shirt was rumpled, and one of the legs of his shorts was folding up a bit, but it was good enough. Still, he tried to smooth them out before he started walking through the hallways of the building.

He wasn't sure when he ended up right in front of the lab door. There was a chance that Sam wasn't even here today, let alone at this hour, and yet, something in him wanted to go in there, something compelled him to start knocking on the metal door.

For some reason, he wasn't surprised when a tired-looking Sam opened the door, rubbing his eyes and looking slightly surprised that someone was down there. His eyes brightened slightly when they saw Tommy, before dulling ever-so-slightly again.

He sent the man the best attempt of a smile Tommy could make, which probably looked more like a grimace, before shifting on his feet, "h...hey Sam."

"Tommy!" the man grinned, one that looked much more real than Tommy felt his did, "something happen?"

He hesitated, briefly, he straightening up, "bad night. Couldn't sleep. Thought I might...I don't know, do something useful."

Sam nodded, though he didn't pry more, which Tommy was thankful for, and stepped a little further into the lab, granting Tommy what he assumed to be permission. Carefully, he slipped forward, sinking in on himself slightly at how barren the walls were, how much they reminded him of the facility, before turning back to Sam.

"Do you have anything I could do? Just...something to keep my hands busy?" he questioned quietly, hoping, praying for a distraction from his hyperactive mind.

Sam tilted his head thoughtfully, idly playing with one of the objects on the table nearest to him. After a few moments, he gestured over to a corner where Tommy could see a couple of boxes stacked precariously, a few overflowing with objects. He raised an eyebrow -for how organized the rest of the lab was, this felt oddly messy.

"A friend gave me some of his stuff when he was cleaning out his house," Sam clarified, coming to stand next to him, "it's been there for a year or two, never really gotten around to clearing it out. You could look through it, if you want. Keep anything you find in there that's of interest to you."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, "anything?"

Sam shrugged, "I haven't looked in those boxes since I got them. Haven't needed to. I think that shows how much I need them."

Slowly, he nodded, "t...thanks."

Carefully, he worked his way over to the pile, pausing in front of it, before glancing over it. He was almost at a loss to start, where he should go with the pile, but Tommy forced himself to take a deep breath in. If he was smart, he could do this. He'd just have to be slow.

The boxes were heavy, he noted, as he started picking them up and bringing them over to the nearest table. It had a couple of blueprints on the end, but, with Sam's permission, he had stacked them on a different table, giving him free access to the current table. Mentally, he created four stacks he could start making in his head.

Stuff to throw away, stuff he thought Sam might like, stuff he thought could be useful to someone, and stuff that he wanted. Tommy had a feeling that the pile was going to be either really big or really small. It probably depended on who Sam's friend was.

Carefully, he pried the first box open, glancing over the contents on top. A couple of cigarette packets -part of Tommy wanted to keep those for himself, but he had no doubt that Drista and Purpled would be furious if they ever caught. He didn't wanna risk the hell that would be that lecture-, a few books on psychology, a few CDs, one pair of earbuds, and what looked like the head of a stuffed animal peaking out around the corner of one of the books.

Tommy rifled through it, setting the books into the pile for Sam, and throwing the cigarettes -which hurt, slightly, knowing that someone could use them, but Tommy wasn't going to risk it- and the earbuds away in trash bag he had hung on a chair. He hesitated on the CDs, hand grabbing one of them before stilling. Almost cautiously, he turned it around, eye tracing the cover. It didn't any words on it, just a drawing that looked like a child made it, sloppy but very clearly made with care, time, and colored pencils.

The drawing was familiar. Like he knew it from somewhere, like he had seen it before.

Tommy was going to murder someone if this ended up being another thing connected back to his family, because that was too many goddamn coincidences.

With a sigh, he grabbed the rest of the CDs, shuffling them into a small pile, before hesitantly putting them in the pile for himself. If all else failed, he could bring them back later, but he was curious about what they had on them.

He grabbed the head of the stuffed animal, pulling it out and turning it almost cautiously in his hands. It was a cow, brown and white and black, with beady eyes that stared at him. It was...cute, in a way, he supposed. Not something he'd love anymore, not after so long and being so much older, but maybe he could give it to Shroud? He nodded. Sam probably wouldn't get much use out of it, and Shroud would appreciate it. Maybe. Hopefully.

The rest of the box was mostly just broken toys or parts, with the exception of a mug that he thought Sam might like. There wasn't much of note in it or the second box that he opened.

When he got to the third box, opening it, he was greeted by a book laid on top of everything else. It almost looked like a scrap book, but what caught his attention most was the writing on top. The Life of Thomas Craft.

He scowled, barely stopping himself from cursing up a storm. What the hell? Why was everything that happened connected back to them! It was all to fucking perfect, all to planned. There was something here, something that made this all wrong. It couldn't be a coincidence.

Still, he cautiously flipped the book open, hand trailing over the first page. It was filled with baby pictures, a few with his brothers holding him, one of his mom, one of his dad. His heart swelled. Baby picture. He had baby pictures.

It was weird to think that he had baby pictures. Tommy had speculated that his family had cared for him, had hoped and prayed that was the case, but never like this. It felt like something he shouldn't touch, shouldn't corrupt -visible proof of a life he had before the facility. Not just memories, lost and partially forgotten, but proof.

Delicately, he turned the page. Then again. And again. Pictures of him riding a bike for the first time, his first shifts, his friends, his parties. Anecdotes were written all over the page, three different colors. Blue, Red, Green. Wilbur, Techno, Phil.

He blinked back the tears in his eyes, gingerly shutting the book and setting it in the pile for himself. Right now wasn't the time to look at that, wasn't the time to get teary eyes. Maybe later, he would look at it with Purpled, would let himself fall apart and have tears dribble down his eyes as he cried unabashedly. He would fall apart in the arms of his friends, and slowly put himself together.

But not now. Now, Tommy was sitting in the lab with Sam, and as much as he liked Sam, Tommy didn't trust him enough to see that. Sam hadn't seen the same things that Purpled, Drista, and Shroud had, hadn't seen what he could truly do and still not cared like Purpled, Drista, and Shroud had. It wasn't trust between them.

He cleared his throat, moving away from the pile to go through the rest of the box. Tommy paused as he reached it, glancing over the stack of paper with a furrowed brow. Carefully, he pulled them out, brushing the dust away as best he could, before glancing over it.

It looked like a...criminal file? A manila folder, paper upon papers on information inside of it. He raised an eyebrow. Why the hell had there been a criminal file put in here?

He paused, glancing over the five or so files that had been put there. Maybe they were dead cases? Cases gone cold? That would make sense. He paused, running a finger over one of them titled Toxicant Case.

Cautiously, he flipped it open, blinking at the image he was granted with. It was a blurry picture of a figure, half-covered with what looked like a thick, gaseous element around their entire body. From what Tommy could tell from the picture, the person wore a gas mask, and a dark green cloak with little gold bits around the edges. The gas seemed fairly random, until the head, where it was held perfectly in an 'X' shape around the face, blocking out the eyes, nose, and any hair that may be there.

He glanced at the description. Toxicant. Antihero. Very little is known about Toxicant -the fog they produce clouds over almost any cameras nearby. All that is left behind are the bodies, almost entirely intact and normal, except for their brains. Nerve endings in the brain are damaged, and often parts of the brain almost seem to be infected with something. Though the virus has died by the point we find the bodies, we have found few alive before we get the chance to record findings in their brain. All symptoms and factors point to a type of poison, neurotoxin, or disease that is emitted through the gaseous clouds. Unconfirmed.

Tommy paused, shutting the file and looking up. That sounded real fucking familiar. He grimaced. Based on how his life was going so far, he wasn't really willing to be that it wasn't a coincidence. 

He sighed, setting the files in his pile. Part of him really hoped that he was wrong, but Toxicant? Possible neurotoxins emitted through gasses? And the image of how Toxicant projected themself was all too familiar.

Well then, he thought, looking up at the ceiling with a grimace, this is going to be fun, X-02. I've always wanted to meet one of the other two to stage an escape and destroy the facility. Let's hope this goes well.

Chapter Text

Tommy tapped a beat against the wooden counter of the bar, timing it with the ear-splitting pop song he could hear being blasted from somewhere else in the casino. He tapped his feet against the ground as he moved, chatting idly with the people sitting at the bar as he served them their drinks.

For as loud and rambunctious as it was, there was something so...god damn freeing about this. Being down in the casino, shifting into Viper and getting to just be.

Because Theseus had expectations, Tommy had fucking trauma , but Viper? Viper only existed in the casino, and it was fucking amazing. A part of him almost felt bad for the people who could shapeshift -he was fairly certain that the ability to shift personas on a whim to escape whatever one was dealing with had helped him so many times.

He had been chatting with one of the patrons -who was obscenely drunk, he had realized about three words in as he served the man another drink when his eye caught on three patrons all standing to the side, not yet having gotten a clear spot on the bar that Tommy was serving in. Curiously, he recognized the first two -Nemesis and Captain were familiar faces after the last time they had dropped in, though they never actually came back to tell him if it worked-, though the third was mildly unfamiliar.

Well, mildly unfamiliar for Viper. Theseus, not so much. His lips twitched into a grin as he recognized the familiar face of Tempest standing awkwardly next to the slightly less awkward faces of the previous two.

Carefully, he ended the conversation with the person he was talking to, giving him his drink and apologizing that he needed to go serve some customers. It was entertaining to watch the man try and blubber a response back, but Tommy forced himself to slip away. Whatever meant the heroes coming here was either really bad, or strangely funny to him. He hoped that it was the latter this time round.

He leaned against the wooden counter they were standing in front of, setting his head on his hand as the elbow dug into the wood.

"Well hello heroes," Tommy forced his voice to be more sing-song than it normally was, almost like a taunt, though he did make it quieter, despite most of the people around being off the rails drunk, "what brings you to this little bar? Captain, Nemesis...Tempest, I presume?"

Wilbur blinked, clearly startled at being recognized so easily, but the other two didn't even pause, Nemesis speaking out before his brother even got the chance to, "you're good at information, we need information."

Tommy raised an eyebrow -he would almost certainly give them the information that they wanted, but it would be fun to play with them a bit first, "not even a hello? I haven't seen you since that whole thing, you never even told me how it went. Was my information correct?"

"It was," Captain sighed, leveling him with a stare that made Tommy want to burst out laughing, "but really, we need information, and if you're able to help, it'd be doing us a huge service."

He paused at the serious tone of voice, internally contemplating if he wanted to provoke them a little more before helping them. A part of him wanted to -but that look in their eyes, no matter the contacts. One that screamed that something was going on, something they couldn't fight alone.

Slowly, he huffed out a sigh, glancing to a couple of open spots at the end of the bar, "go ahead. Can I get you anything to drink? I have a feeling this is going to take a while."

They sat down slowly, though the Captain was the one to speak, "I think just a couple of waters. If we want to get information and remember it, I think we should probably be properly sober."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, moving to stand up next to them, though he grabbed a glass to clean so that he could fidget with something while they talked, "so, what's up?"

Nemesis leveled him with a stare, glancing up and down the upper half of his form, before leaning forwards, "how much do you know about our civilian lives?"

Tommy shrugged, pushing down the panic building up in his chest, "as much as anyone else."

"Don't play games," she hissed, pausing when the Captain laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head, "this is important. How much do you know?"

He paused, hesitating. This was something he had to be careful about -not too much detail, enough to make himself seem like just some guy. He paused. Maybe he could add a little in, saying that he researched them when they came to the bar last time? That could work...maybe.

Tommy sighed, nodding at Nemesis, "Nihachu Waters, Puffy Chester, Wilbur...Soot or Craft? I can't remember."

Captain paused, "you know our names? Nothing else?"

"Was..." he raised an eyebrow, "is that a trick question? I feel like there's no right answer here."

"Just answer the damn question already, kid," Wilbur grumbled, and Tommy barely resisted the urge to flip him off.

He huffed out a grumble under his breath instead, setting the glass to the side as he finished it and picking up another, "Nihachu Waters, runs a bakery with Foolish Totem, Tubbo Chester, and Ranboo Ender. Your power lets you make yourself more believable -not mind control, people just trust you better."

"Puffy Chester," he started, ignoring the slightly surprised looks from the three, "you've been sighted as Nemesis' bakery a lot, though you also do therapy as a side job, especially for traumatized heroes. Your power lets you feel and change the emotions of those around you in a 10 foot radius temporarily, and only in minor ways."

Carefully, Tommy set the glass down on the table, looking to stare Wilbur dead in the eyes, "finally, Wilbur...Soot, I believe? Used to be Wilbur Craft, changed your name, familial connection with Technoblade Craft and Philza Craft. You have a band you work with part time, and occasionally record and publish your own songs."

He reached below the counter as he spoke, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting the cap off. Once he finished, Tommy took a sip, still looking Wilbur in the eyes, before setting it down roughly once he was done, grinning with a feral look in his eyes, "that enough detail for you?"

"How the hell do you-," Wilbur swallowed, glancing at them, before a brief spark Tommy associated with remembering something flashed through his eyes, "how the hell do you have that memorized?"

Tommy shrugged, "if I had to guess, I'm half-certain I have photographic memory. It's how I knew who they were when I first saw them, and how I know so much. Never really had anyone confirm it though. Plus, I did a bit of research on those two and anyone heavily associated with them after the last time they showed up here."

Nemesis raised an eyebrow, "wouldn't something like that be obvious from early childhood?"

"Please refrain from asking me about my childhood," Tommy sighed, "it wasn't exactly conventional. But we're not here to talk about that -so why'd you need me to tell you that anyways?"

Both Nemesis and Captain looked at Wilbur, and Tommy tilted his head curiously at him. It this was another thing about Thomas, it was going to be really hard not to fucking laugh. A part of him could wait for the reveal that Viper, Thomas, Tommy, and Theseus were all the same person. Their reactions were going to be fucking amazing.

Wilbur stared at him for a moment, maintaining eye contact, before sighing and brushing a hand through the black wig he was wearing, "recently we've come across some...information regarding a government program called Project Generations. Supposedly, the entire program got destroyed during an..." he grimaced, " incident a while ago, but we've been looking into it more recently, and have come to think that it hasn't entirely been disbanded."

He hummed non committedly, propping his head up with his arm as he glanced between them, "so you want to know if I have any proof that they're still active, or if I've heard anything of them being around the city?"

"Yes," Nemesis butted it, "and any details you might have heard."

Tommy paused, tapping his fingers against his thigh in a constant rhythm as he debated what he could tell them without giving too much away. Enough that it wouldn't seem incriminating, or draw a major connection between himself and Theseus. 

After a moment, he paused, letting out a breath, "I know that it hasn't been disbanded, and I've heard it be mentioned a couple of times around here, so I'd say it's safe to assume that they're active around the city. If I had to guess," he smoothly took another drink from the water bottle he had set on the counter, "I'd say they're here to get something."

"Something?" Captain questioned, leaning forward a little.

Tommy shrugged, "or someone. L'Manburg is a big city, and based on how you're avoiding talking about what they actually did, I'd say it isn't something that they'd want to go public. My assumption is that they're only here because they need something or someone for whatever they're doing."

"Of course," he spoke, cutting off Wilbur who was about to speak again, "I have no proof of that, so don't quote me. Just an educated guess."

He glanced over them as they processed his words, before looking around and sighing, "look, I have to go pass out drinks to more patrons. I'd love to continue this conversation later, but if whatever you have can wait another night, am I allowed to go back to doing my job?"

Carefully, Captain nodded, and Tommy took a step away. He glanced back after a moment -it was clear they had more questions they wanted to ask, but were holding themselves back so they didn't interfere with him doing his job.

Slowly, he sighed, taking a step forward with a hand pressed against his forehead.

"If you want to talk to me outside of my night hours in a less," he glanced around, " compromised place, tell one of the daytime workers a time, place, and Viper. They'll pass on the message and I'll meet you there."

He stepped back, flashing them a fanged, predatory smile, "provided, of course, I have nothing to do."

As Tommy went back to serving drinks to the other patrons, the feeling of eyes settled on his back didn't leave for another thirty minutes. He was still tense, but there was a little hope peaking around the edges of his heart. Hopefully, if they got their shit together, Tommy wouldn't have to deal with the Facility ever again.

Hopefully.

A part of him knew that this was nothing more than a prelude. He would never get lucky enough to never have to deal with the Facility again -they would always haunt him from the dark, lurking around a corner and threatening to rise again like some sort of Hydra monstrosity. His hopes were hollow -they would never end up coming true, not with his luck, not with his life.

The endeavors of the heroes, no matter how good their intentions, would just be the calm before the storm. The Facility was their nightmare -the nightmare of his family, or himself. No one would be able to fight that battle for them.

People have tried, but how do you fight an ocean?

Sink or swim, you have two options.

Tommy tapped his hand against the table. Sink or swim.

Take down the Facility to the point where they can't hurt his family ever again, or allow himself to succumb to their ways again. To the torture and surgeries, to the white sterile walls and gripping smell of anesthetic. He'd never allow himself to fall to them again -whether that be by death or being trapped within their walls again. But fighting them seemed like an impossible task.

Sink or swim, he mused. An immovable object meets an unstoppable force. Two impossible options.

Though, Tommy supposed he was nothing if not an impossible person. Someone who had survived more than should be possible, who had learned to be someone more than he should have.

He wondered whether he was always supposed to turn out this way -bruised and hurt from all done to him. Maybe he was supposed to die in the Facility, or maybe he wasn't' supposed to get taken at all. Who knows with fate, after all.

Carefully, Tommy glanced at where the heroes left.

Sink or swim, Wilbur Soot. You wish for the impossible. Sink or swim, Tommy Craft. You follow an impossible life.

When two impossible factors meet, perhaps they are no longer impossible.

Perhaps, at that point, they are merely improbable.

Chapter Text

"Tommy come on!"

Shroud tugged his arm as he dragged Tommy through the streets, pouting vehemently. He laughed in response, but picked up his pace to match the excited child dragging him along.

"You excited to see Michael again?" he questioned, shoving his other hand in his jacket pocket as he glanced around, inhaling the smell of dew from the rain the previous night. His hair curled around the nape of his neck as the wind blew from behind them, and Tommy let out a small laugh as all of Shroud's hair blew in front of his head, covering his eyes, and causing the younger to sputter.

Still, he pushed the hair behind him, sending Tommy a smile, "yeah! We were gonna continue our game this time!"

Tommy smiled at the excitement from the child, before glancing around the area. They were meeting up with Ranboo and Michael at an ice cream shop nearby -apparently Tubbo had been busy with something Tommy hadn't really asked details about. He was a little nervous to interact with Ranboo so directly, and especially without knowing or remembering pretty much anything about the other, though he supposed Ranboo was at even worse of an advantage than he was. At least Tommy knew who Ranboo was, or had some idea at least. Besides, the kids would probably make good icebreakers and manage to keep awkward silences to a minimum, at least for a little bit.

"Remember," he started when the ice cream shop came into view, "you have to-"

"-call you Theo only, not mention anything about the vigilante stuff, and stick to our backstory. I know. You've reminded me four times already," Shroud huffed, rolling his eyes.

Tommy rolled his eyes, lifting his hand from Shroud's grasp to ruffle his hair, "brat."

"Paranoid," he shot back, shoving Tommy's hand away with a huff.

"I was literally kidnapped and raised by scientists who tortures me," Tommy pointed out, "I don't really think it's paranoia."

Shroud rolled his eyes, "just because it's warranted paranoia doesn't mean its not paranoia."

Tommy blinked, "paranoia literally means that it can't be warranted -what is that supposed to even mean-"

"Shush," Shroud gave him a small shove as they approached the door to the shop, "you, of all people, do not get to comment on what I say not making sense."

"I'm not that bad!" he exclaimed, pushing the door open, and listening to the little ding that sounded as they slipped inside, "besides, Dris is worse! She literally refuses to talk in complete sentences sometimes just to piss Purp off."

Shroud scoffed, "and we respect her all the more because of it."

Tommy tilted his head, "touché, gremlin. Touché."

He paused, glancing around the shop, and nearly freezing when he made eye contact with Ranboo, who was sitting in one of the booths with Michael, who was excitedly kicking his legs under it. Tommy raised a brow, turning his head down to face Shroud.

"You going to say hi to your friend or completely ignore him?"

The smaller perked up, swiveling his head around the shop, before letting go of Tommy's arm when he spotted Michael, slipping through the tables as fast as he reasonably could in public to greet the other. He laughed, before doing the same, though noticeably slower than his younger brother.

Tommy stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving Ranboo a polite nod of his head, before glancing at the kids, "you guys have any idea what you want?"

"Hmmm," Shroud frowned, glancing over at the menu above the counter, and Michael tugged on his sleeve, almost as though he was trying to pull the spider-hybrid towards the counter. He glanced up at Tommy, who smiled, ruffling his hair.

"You two go see what you want," he suggested, "just let us know so we can buy it for you."

Shroud tilted his head, considering, before nodding, "alright. Come on Michael!" He tugged the other away, and Tommy watched with a fond smile as Michael squealed before following, though he wasn't going quite as fast as Shroud was.

"They clicked fast," Ranboo noted, and Tommy turned back to face him, sliding his bag off next to him as he moved onto the seat, pushing it against the wall as he sat in front of Ranboo, "Michael doesn't usually like people, so I'm a little surprised."

Tommy snorted, "Shroud doesn't either. The first time he properly met Quackity, not including the time he was asleep, he tried to bite his arm off. I never realized how hard it was to wrestle away a child from biting someone."

"Really? I feel like Quackity would kill someone if they did that to him," Ranboo chuckled.

He grinned, leaning forwards, "don't let him fool you, he's a sucker for Shroud."

Ranboo paused, blinking, "am I allowed to give that to Wilbur? He wants more blackmail for Quackity."

Tommy ignored the tightening in his chest at thought, his smile becoming a little more of a grimace, though he forced himself to keep up his persona, "sure. Anyone is welcome to annoy Big Q with my knowledge."

His phone wrung, interrupting their conversation, and Tommy cursed, reaching in his pocket to glance at the caller ID. Purple.

"Shit, sorry," he sighed, rubbing his neck unconsciously, "it's my brother. Do you mind if I take this?"

Ranboo shook his head, "not at all."

Tommy slipped a hand in his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing a ten dollar bill to Ranboo, "if they decide what they want while I'm taking this, just pay for Shroud's."

"Alright," he nodded, before pausing, "do you want me to order you anything?"

He waved his hand, "nah, I'm fine. I don't need anything right now."

With that, Tommy slipped away from the booth, pushing the door of the shop open, before exiting. It chimed behind him, and he carefully slipped into the nearest alleyway, fingers tapping against he back of his phone and he chewed on his lip nervously. if was a bad habit, and he really had to break it soon, but now wasn't really the time.

As soon as he was out of sight, Tommy pressed the button to call Purpled, tapping his foot impatiently as the phone wrung. It better have been important, because otherwise, he was so going to be bitchy about Purpled interrupting Shroud's time with Michael.

"Tommy!" Purpled voice wrung out loudly as soon as the call was accepted, and Tommy just barely bit back a hiss, before freezing at the tone of voice.

"Purpled?" he questioned cautiously, "what's wrong?"

From the other side of the phone, he could hear wind blowing, along with the screeching of a tire, "we just got a message from Wilbur. They're doing a raid with a possible lead they got on the Facility tonight -he wants to meet up with us now so he can convince the others we can be a part of it."

Tommy blinked. He supposed that made sense why Purpled was calling him, but... "couldn't you and Drista just do that by yourselves? I don't wanna ruin Shroud's fun."

"We would," Purpled sounded frustrated, though Tommy couldn't tell if it was because of ruining Shroud's fun or just Wilbur's message, "but he specifically requested you go. He's not sure if he can trust us, so he thinks that you should be the one with him trying to convince the others to let us on the mission."

He blew out a breath, "how am I gonna get my gear? I don't have any of it with me."

"I'm coming to you now," Purpled cut in, "we're gonna swap out -you go to the thing with Wilbur, I take care of Shroud. I have all your stuff with me now. Plus, I'll text you the location."

"We going with work emergency?" Tommy questioned, ignoring his rapidly beating heart, "or family?"

Purpled hummed, "work, probably. We could say you're older than me, and Quackity needs more workers today since a bunch called in sick, and we could use the extra cash."

Tommy nodded, "sounds good. Can you message Quackity so he knows to agree to the story if they mention it to him?"

"Yeah," Purpled sighed, "I'm really sorry about this Toms, I know you were looking forward to taking Shroud out today."

He grimaced in response, "duty calls. I'll make sure to let them know. See you in a bit?"

"You know it."

Tommy quickly hung up the phone, slipping it back into his jean pocket before slumping and heading back out of the alley. He huffed out a breath -so much for a free day.

As he pushed the door of the ice cream shop open, his eyes flicked to the trio he could see sitting in the booth -Shroud and Michael both had ice cream cones, and were happily chatting away while they snacked on it. Ranboo had an ice cream cone too, and he observed that there was a cup with one scoop sitting in the one open seat in the booth.

As Tommy walked over, Ranboo's eyes flicked to him, and he gave a small, weary smile, "I know you said you didn't want anything, but I figured it would be rude to leave you out. Wasn't sure what you wanted, so I figured chocolate was a good choice?"

He huffed out a laugh, glancing at the cup, before they flicked back to Ranboo, who was watching him with inquisitive eyes. It was clear he wanted to ask, but didn't think he had the right to yet. After a moment, Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Work problem, sorry. My brother will be coming by to take my place and drop off my work clothes, and he'll watch Shroud with you," he gave a sorry smile, trying his best to convey how he really didn't want to do this.

"Purpled's coming?" Shroud's curious voice cut through his thoughts, and Tommy let his eyes move over to the younger, glancing over his form.

After a moment, Tommy nodded, "yeah. Work problem, so he's coming to watch you guys with Ranboo while I go."

Shroud's eyes shined with understanding -he was fully aware that Tommy wasn't talking about the casino-, but Ranboo just nodded, "alright. When's your brother supposed to be coming?"

Tommy twitched, feeling a familiar presence nudge at his mind, as if saying I'm right here!

"Any moment now, if I had to guess," as if reading his mind, which he might have been, to be honest, Purpled pushed through the door. It wrung behind him, and Tommy noted the beanie and makeup he was wearing to cover up his markings, giving them all a slight smile as he swung the bag off of his shoulder to hand to Tommy.

He raised an eyebrow, "you have really good timing, you know that?"

"It's one of my specialties," Purpled responded, giving Ranboo a friendly smile as he handed Tommy the bag, who rolled his eyes, though he did stand up.

"Enjoy your ice cream, hope you like chocolate," he said sarcastically, already heading to the door, before pausing, and glancing back, "I really do appreciate this Ranboo. I'm sorry about the hassle. And pick up my bag on your way out Purpled!"

With that, he slipped out the door, swinging the bag around his shoulder and heading towards the park. While, theoretically, he could just change  in an alley, he still had some sense of dignity left, and there was a park right there. It wouldn't be hard to slip into the public bathroom, get changed, shapeshift into a bird, and just pretend to be a bird that accidentally flew in. It wouldn't be that hard, most likely.

He sprinted over, slipping inside one of the bathroom stalls, and trying desperately to ignore how disgusting it looked (why were public bathrooms always so gross? They had better ones provided in the Facility) while he glanced over the contents of the bag.

His hoodie, mask, goggles, a pair of jeans, gloves, most of his lighter under armor, knife, and baseball bat. Tommy nodded, his lips twitching up for a moment. This was either going to be horrible, or absolutely amazing. Maybe both, honestly. He glanced at his phone, checking the building Purpled had sent him, before nodding. Tommy could do that.

Quickly, he swapped his clothes out, before pressing the knife, bag, and baseball bat to his forearm, and closing his eyes, shifting into the form of a crow. He breathed in for a moment, adjusting to his new form, before flapping upwards when he heard the door begin to open, shooting towards it and flapping out of it.

He shot through the city, shifting just a few blocks before he reached his destination, and leaving his clothes and bag sitting in the alleyway. They were high up, but Tommy just hoped that they'd be here when he came back. Purpled might kill him if they weren't.

Quietly, he ran the next few blocks in the alleys, slipping through them, before climbing up the fire escape of the building Purpled said Wilbur messaged him. He sucked in a quiet breath, pricking his ears once he reached the top of the fire escape.

"-sure he's coming Tempest?" that was Sam's voice speaking, and Tommy bit his lip to keep from speaking out, pausing to listen for a moment.

There was a scoff, "yes I'm sure."

"Don't blame us for worrying, mate," that was his dad's voice, and Tommy almost felt like crying at how familiar it was, how happy it made him to hear it again, "you've been obsessed with this Facility case for weeks now. Just out of the blue, ever since we caught Theseus. No explanation, nothing."

"I had good reason!" Wilbur cut in, and Tommy shook his head, muttering a curse to himself.

He hoisted himself up, jumping onto the roof, and landing in a crouch, head tilting as he observed the group.

Wilbur was in the front, with Phil (Dad), Techno, and Sam standing next to him. Behind them, he was Tubbo, Nemesis, Captain, and two other heroes he didn't recognize (one had parrot wings curling around him, the other a gray helmet on with a green suit one).

The first thought to go through his head was 'Fuck.'

The second was 'So that's what Tubbo had to do today?'

Instead of voicing that, Tommy gave them a smirk, though they couldn't see it, and stood up, giving a little bow, "all this for me? I'm a little flattered, I'll be honest."

He was so screwed.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to have fun with it though.

Chapter Text

"Theseus," Wilbur's voice greeted, and Tommy felt his lips twitch up into a smile again as his eyes flicked between all of the forms, "so good of you to join us."

He barked out a small laugh, "well, when you get a private request, I just couldn't bring myself to refuse!"

Zephyrus -Phil (Dad)- moved to stand in front of Wilbur, his eyes just barely visible below the edge of his hat, "keep in mind, Theseus, you're only here because Tempest requested numerous times for you to be. None of us like this."

Tommy nodded in understanding, "it's fair that you don't. I've done nothing to earn it for you," he paused, before tilting his head with a grin, "yet, of course."

"Uh, can I ask something?" that was Tubbo's voice, and Tommy let his eyes flicker to the other's form. He had a similar headband to Ranboo when he was in his hero gear, with two ram horns curling down the side of his face, and a pair of thick goggles covering his eyes, the lenses tinted to look like nuclear symbols. His hair fell thickly over the goggles, just barely pushed to the side, and he wore a thick winter coat, and jeans underneath, "Tempest, you still haven't told us why we're investigating Project Generations anyway. Or why you've been referring to it as 'The Facility' now. Like, I know that it was bad," he glanced over at Tommy, "we have no proof that they're even in the city, and you haven't explained why you're so focused on it anyway. Can we, like, be informed before we go perform a raid on it?"

Tommy paused, glancing over at Wilbur, who seemed to be glancing at him through his blindfold, before sending a similar look to Captain an Nemesis. Clearly, he had no idea the best course of action from here.

He let out a huff, rolling his eyes at Wilbur, before turning to Sage, "as you know, I was," Tommy paused, "involved in the Facility before. We have reason to believe that they're in the city, hunting down several of their past experiments. As for the reason Tempest is so focused on it..."

"That's something better to be discussed in private," Tempest cut in, voice thick with an undecipherable emotion, and Tommy nodded in agreement. He didn't particularly feel like discussing the numerous parts of his trauma, or showing them the video where someone might be able to see it in broad daylight.

Phil and Sam shared a look, before Sam sighed, sending him a look that screamed 'why have you done this to me gremlin?', "we can either go to the HQ, or we can go to one of our safe houses. I'm in favor of the second one, personally."

Tommy shrugged, "I can do either, but I'd understand if you didn't want to show me where one of your safe houses is, considering I'm still a vigilante you don't know the identity of."

"You're willing to head to the HQ?" the parrot winged one questioned, his wings twitching in something that reminded Tommy of surprise, though it wasn't like he could see his eyes through the pilot goggles.

"I could very easily take you all on," he shrugged, before pausing, glancing at the other two, "I don't know who you are, by the way."

Wilbur let out a noise of surprise, "really? It feels like you know every heroes' identity."

Tommy scoffed, "I know most heroes' identities, asshole. Including all of you, Wilbur Soot, Phil Craft, Techno Craft, Puffy Chester, Niki Waters, Sam Pandora, and Tubbo Chester. I just don't know them."

They all gaped at him in disbelief, though he ignored them, his eyes glancing over the city that surrounded them with false interest.

"Uh," the one with the gray helmet cut in, "I'm X, this is-"

"Poultry Man!" the other cut in, his voice riddled with mirth and humor.

X elbowed him in the stomach, and 'Poultry Man' coughed, letting out a noise of indigence, "sorry, he's dramatic. We call him Watcher."

Watcher pouted, "you're no fun X! Why can't I be Poultry Man?"

"Don't worry, I'll always think of you as Poultry Man," Tommy barely kept a laugh in as he said it, but the look of betrayal he got from X and excitement from Watcher was worth it. 

Wilbur pressed a hand to his temple, "maybe we should start heading to the HQ if we want to get done with this anytime soon? Preferably, before the raid is supposed to happen?"

Tommy sighed, "fine Tempest. Jesus, you're such a prick, you know? Can't even let out have a bit of fun."

As he spoke, Tommy walked through the crowd of heroes, taking a bit of glee in watching them separate around him, before pausing on the edge that faced the hero HQ, crouching on the edge with a small grin, "what window are we entering?"

"...4th from the top I think? It'll be open when we get there. Don't you want a ride?" Wilbur questioned, "we're gonna get there way before you if you don't."

Tommy sent him a raised eyebrow, standing up and facing him, "wanna bet? I'm faster than you think, bitch boy."

With that, he let himself fall backwards, twisting around midway through to grab onto the last layer of the fire escape before letting himself fall fully onto the ground. He couldn't get there faster than them just by running, but if he was able to get away...

Quickly, he sped through the alleyways, taking a few twists and turns until he was sure he was alone, before pressing the items to his skin and shifting into the form of a crow, Flapping upwards to try and beat them. There was still a good chance that they would beat him, but if he was lucky.

As he flew, Tommy spotted them, behind him, still on the rooftop, looking curious. He would have snorted if he was still human, though it wasn't like he really could right now. They obviously underestimated him too much -hopefully, they'd learn against that soon. Once he beat their asses in this unofficial race.

His body twisted, and he hesitated as the HQ came closer and closer. Going right to the window would probably end up making them suspicious, even as he was a crow, but...Tommy hesitated, swerving up a little higher than he originally planned. Getting into the ventilation shaft would probably be his best bet, and that probably involved a lot less lying in order to get out of the situation he created himself. 

Tommy landed on the top of the roof, still a crow, before walking around, trying his best to look like an innocent animal. It wasn't uncommon for crows to fly around the HQ -likely due to his dad, at least partially, but it also gave Tommy a cover for being there.

He slipped silently through the ventilation grid after prying off one of the corners with his beak and claws. His feet pattered against it, wings ruffling in the air, and Tommy thought he did the bird equivalent of a bird nose wrinkle at the smell.

Once he was a good distance in, Tommy shifted back into a human, grinning slightly. It was going to be absolutely amazing if this worked out to him getting there before them -no doubt, their questions of his power would only increase over time, and he would have so much fun not answering them.

He pushed himself down through the shaft, mentally counting the floors in his head. Every time that the shaft went down a floor, it was fairly obvious, which he couldn't deny he was thankful for. It would have been a nightmare trying to navigate them without that nice detail.

When he was above the fourth floor (he was fairly certain? Tommy hoped he was, at least), he worked on opening the ventilation grid that he found, his fingers wringing around the edges. After a few moments of fiddling, Tommy managed to pull two of the screws off, and the ventilation grid flew open. 

Quickly, he flipped himself down, hanging from the grid with hands, feet dangling just an inch or two off of the ground. He let go, landing in a crouch on the ground, before tapping a finger to his mask.

"Atalanta?" he questioned, glancing around the hallway. It was almost entirely white, with rooms branching off from it, glass giving him a clear look into them. 

The com inside his mask cackled to life, "Theseus? Is everything okay?"

He snorted, "I challenged them with a race to their HQ, and I'm waiting for them now."

"They're in for a fucking surprise," Drista huffed out a laugh, before there was shuffling, "anything you need?"

"Can you take out the footage of me flying in as a bird from the camera? Try to make it look as seamless as possible," the only thing that would make all of this even better would be if they weren't able to find any person or oddly flying bird heading to the hero HQ.

Drista hummed, "probably, man. Let us know when you're done with them and we can come help?"

"Sure," he murmured in response, before closing off the com, and sighing.

Carefully, Tommy stood up, waltzing over to the end of the hallway where he could see the windows, and leaning against one of the walls, arms crossed as he tapped on his arm, head tilted as he contemplated how he was going to explain their situation to them all without making too many connections between Thomas and Theseus.

When the window finally opened, and Zephyrus and Watcher flew in, each carrying someone (his dad carrying Techno, Watcher carrying X), he simply smirked a little at their surprise that he was already there. And when Wilbur came in a few seconds later, guiding the wind to carry himself up, Tommy gave him a bow, a sharp smirk on his face.

"You don't know everything about me, Tempest. I'm much more of a wild card than you give me credit for," he bit out, tilting his head, before standing up and adjusting his hoodie.

He craned his neck to glance between those who were able to fly -the others he assumed would come once they managed to make it through the city, "now, I believe I have some information you'd be interested in, heroes. Time is ticking~"

"Ticking for what?" his dad's voice cut in, and Tommy's smile grew, though it was a little sharper, and his eyes were a little narrower.

Tommy waved his hand, heading towards the elevator he could see on the other side of the hall, "the time to find Thomas, of course. Now, are we staying on this floor, or heading up or down?"

Behind him, he left a dead silence, and turned around to see that all of them, except for Watcher and X, who only looked a little concerned, and Wilbur, who already knew, stared at him. After a few seconds, it was broken by Wilbur speaking with an annoyed tone of voice-

"I told you I had a good reason, assholes."

Chapter Text

"Thomas is alive?"

"You know Thomas?"

"Who's Thomas again?"

The questions are all spoken in tandem, and though Tommy sighs, after sending a look Watcher a slightly amused look for his question, though he doesn't warrant it with a response at the moment. Tommy can't say he was exactly surprised by the questions, though he can see his father and eldest brother gearing up to ask more and more questions, and holds up his hand quickly, before glancing behind him towards the elevator, sighing.

"Well, I guess we're staying here for now," he murmurs, shifting a littler further away from the elevator, before his eyes flick back to their waiting forms, and sighing again, running a hand through his hair unconsciously, "look, I'll tell you everything in due time, but can we get somewhere at least slightly private before I start telling you about your missing family member? I don't care where, but I'd prefer not to tell you out in the open, hero HQ or not."

They all glance at each other, and Tommy taps his foot impatiently, letting out a huff, "god, is it that hard for you. Just fucking pick one, bitch boys."

Wilbur sends him a look that Tommy can feel through the other's blindfold, and amusement rises in Tommy's chest because that feels a lot like the look that he gave Shroud something. The 'shut up you're being insensitive' look that definitely meant 'you're right but please make a good impression'. He had seen it many times from Purpled, rarely, if ever, from Drista, and had used it many, many times on Shroud, especially since they were no longer stuck in the Facility.

It was a look that he had only ever used on family, and the though that he might have accidentally gotten across to Wilbur at a subconscious level that he was their lost family member was absolutely hilarious. Because he obviously didn't realize who Tommy was yet, but this was most definitely the peak of any of his little acts, or personalities.

"We can take you to the mission conference room," X suggested, "it's on this floor, and is sound proof, since everything said in there is highly confidential."

Phil tilted his head, considering, before nodding, "that'll work. Someone should go down to let the others know where we are."

"I can do it!" Watcher lifted his hand, and Tommy could almost imagine the feral gleam in his eyes as he did so.

X huffed, "I'll go with him. This seems like a more personal thing, and I don't trust him not to blow up the building by himself."

Watcher pouted, "aw, do you have so little faith in me X?"

"Absolutely none," he confirmed, guiding the other into the elevator and pressing one of the buttons, the doors clinking shut before Tommy could hear anything else that consisted of their interaction.

Tommy glanced back at the three that were left, raising a cautionary eyebrow, "well then, shall you take me there?"

Silently, they began guiding him through the hallways, Tommy strolling behind them leisurely, whistling out a tune as he did so. It was fun, he had to admit, acting the exact opposite to how most people would have acted right now. Somber, or maybe angry. Quiet, tentative to not hurt them.

All Tommy could really feel at the moment was hilarity, so it wasn't like that really applied to him.

Eventually, they ended up at a completely sealed off room, no windows unlike the majority of the rest of the conference rooms on the floor. Instead, there was just a door, with a scanner next to it, which his dad slipped a card he grabbed from his pocket into. It lit up a green color, and the door clicked, gliding open the slightest amount. Wordlessly, the group of three slipped in, and Tommy followed, his eyes unconsciously flitting around to catalogue all of it.

The room was mostly white, which sent shivers down him, the instinct to run pushing up, but he forced it down. Now wasn't the time to let the instincts instilled in him run rampant. In the center, there was a large metal table, chairs scattered around it, and a TV screen on both sides of the table, mounted to the walls. The only real bit of color that was in the room was the green plants in the corner, and that didn't do much to lower the instincts that fought against his mind in his chest, even as Tommy gritted his teeth and forced them down.

Tommy forced himself to act casual, dropping down into one of the chairs -which spun, much to his delight-, giving the heroes a lazy smile that he hoped they could feel through his mask, "hey there assholes."

They sat down across from him, on the opposite side, and it sent a pang of familiarity  through him to the last time he was here. It felt like an interrogation, he mused.

“Well then, where shall we start?” He added a degree of amusement to his voice, before sobering up slightly, “no, but seriously, what do you want to know?”

They were doing a good job of masking their emotions, Tommy had to admit, but to a keen eye, it was obvious that they were masking a level of fear and tension. They almost looked like they were going to start crying, and Tommy…Tommy couldn’t exactly blame them.

“How do you know that Thomas is alive?” That was his dad questioning him.

He inclined his head slightly, “one year ago, Thomas Craft blew up the Facility, a place where we had both been taken to be experimental subjects unwillingly, and became friends. He freed the entire Facility, and we went our separate ways. I haven’t had much direct communication with him, but I know that he’s still alive.”

“And what do you get out of helping us?” That was Techno, his voice thick with something that Tommy couldn’t decipher.

Tommy shook his head, “I lost my family just like Thomas. If I can give someone the Facility ripped from their life their family back, I will."

It hurt, partially, to have what he lost in front of him, right for the taking, right where he could rip off his mask and try and get his family back, but it wasn't something he could rush. They hadn't come for him -he wasn't going to run back to them just like they. He had a right to be angry, and they had to prove that they meant they were going to stay.

Techno still looked skeptical, but Wilbur butted in, "I can tell them more about the details with Thomas later, and show them the..." he trailed off, swallowing thickly, and Tommy swore he could see tears coming to his eyes, "the videos. For now, we should probably inform you about the details of the raid."

He nodded, watching Phil clear his throat, drawing the attention of the room, "on the river, just on the edge of town, there's a couple of warehouses that are along the coast. They sometimes transport products up and down the river to the neighboring cities."

"We've already been aware due to outside sources that the Facility has been working within L'Manburg," Wilbur cut in, and Tommy stifled a laugh at the thought they were telling him about the information he gave them without realizing it, "and now we have reason to believe they've been using these warehouses to transport what's left of their program, including any experiments left and some of their workers."

Tommy nodded, "and we'll be going there to put a stop to it tonight."

Wilbur let out a hum, and Techno picked up where he left off, "we're experienced, but Tempest insisted that we call you three vigilantes in, as well as any others that you want to add, in order to help. I guess now, seeing as you were in the Facility originally, I can see why."

"I'll do my best," he grinned, "Orpheus, Atalanta, and I will certainly be joining you, and I'll see if I can contact any other vigilantes as well. If it would help," Tommy added on, "I'd be happy to look around through their files once we're done to see if they have any extra information we didn't have on Thomas, just to see if it would help you in your search."

Phil nodded slowly, "that would be appreciated, Theseus." He hesitated for a few moments, "I still don't trust you. It's been ten years -if I find out that you lied, and my son is still dead after you reopened this, I assure you it will not end well."

"Grief knows no end," he agreed, before pausing.

Tommy slowly shook his head, before standing up and moving a little closer to his dad, peering down at him carefully, "I am not a good man Zephyrus. I have killed, I have tainted my hands with the blood of the guilty and the innocent. And for the rest of my life I will have to live with that. I am not a good man, and I have accepted that. But I will do my best to bring your son home." He glanced at Techno and Wilbur too, "alive."

"I don't know if I believe you," Phil muttered back, turning away slightly.

He huffed, "I don't expect you to."

Carefully, Tommy stepped away, going a little towards the door, before Wilbur interrupted him, "you shouldn't have had to kill anyone. Thomas shouldn't have either, or Orpheus of Atalanta. I'm sorry we couldn't save you."

"We shouldn't have," he agreed, arm tightening slightly at the direction the conversation was going, "but we did."

"Do you regret it?"

Tommy paused. He regretted that they had to die, he regretted that they were there in the first place -regretted that he was there in the first place.

But the Facility was not a place for regret, not if you wanted to survive.

"I do not regret surviving," he said in response, a cold tilt to his voice, "and I don't regret Thomas killing to survive, or Orpheus, or Atalanta. I wouldn't feel anger if someone had killed me to survive -because that's how things worked in the Facility. Survival of the fittest."

There was a pause, "it's out fault that Thomas had to kill to survive."

Tommy wasn't even sure who said it -all that he could do was grit his teeth to try and keep from crying.

"Yes it is!" he finally snapped, slamming one of his hands on the metal table and turning around to face them, a snarl on his lips, "it is your fault he had to kill, it's your fault he was even there in the first place! Because you never fucking saved him. Do you know how many times he sobbed over the fact that his family wasn't coming to get him? Of the fact that he was fucking alone? Because I do! I was there. I watched as he fell apart and had to build himself back up, again and again and fucking again."

He took a step back, "but your goddamned pity party isn't helping anyone! You fucked up, now you fix it. Thomas owes you nothing -just like I owe my birth family nothing. The Facility was a fucked up family of children, and we learned to love each other for it. Killing was another part of our live -you wake up, you eat, you do the experiments, you kill, you go to sleep, simple as that."

The room was silent for a moment, and Tommy took a step towards the door, huffing and forcing himself to continue facing away from them, "prove to me that you're worthy of seeing Thomas again, that you'll love him unconditionally no matter what, and I'll reveal to you exactly where he is. Until then, it's up to you to figure it out. I'll help, but good fucking luck. We'll meet you outside the docks later tonight. Message me the rest of what we need to know."

With that, Tommy shoved his way out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and pressing a hand to the side of his mask.

"I'm coming back now Atalanta," he said, voice cold and lacking emotion, shoulders tight with tension as he walked, "I'll give you guys updates there."

As he walked away from the room, he ignored the tension building in his gut. As he walked away from the room, he ignored Sam's worried looks at how silent he was. Ignored the forms of Watcher, Nemesis, Captain, X, Sam, and Tubbo walking towards the room. As he walked away from the room, Tommy couldn't decide whether it felt good to get all of that out, or whether he just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

As he walked away from the room, Tommy couldn't ignore the feeling in his gut that the raid wasn't going to go as well as he was hoping it was.

Later that night, when it was turning more to dusk than anything else, Tommy would give all the details of Purpled and Drista, and would tell them what he said, how he lashed out. He would tell them of his gut feeling that things were going to end differently than they all thought. They would head out early, and corner all the other vigilantes that they could find, asking them to join in the raid as extra help.

Later that night, Tommy would be content in the knowledge that he was allowed to be angry. He would be content in the knowledge that they were as prepared as they possibly could be.

It didn't stop him from feeling like this raid was going to be a turning point -and not in a good way.

Chapter Text

Tommy had always loved the form of birds.

Comparatively, it was the form her had always felt the most free in, even while in the Facility. He could hide, he could fly -no, he could fucking soar and it was so, so freeing. Crows, specifically, had been a favorite but even other versions were amazing to do.

Of course, his favorite part of being birds was how often people looked over them.

They were so common that no one ever batted an eye at them, or paused to think if it was staring at them. It was just...normal to people. Which, granted, it probably should have been for most people.

It made his job a hell of a lot easier though.

One of his talons tapped against the shipping container her was perched on, the cool wind going through his feathers and chilling him to the bone. His beady eyes surveyed the area, watching over the guards that patrolled around, as he waited for the signal.

He didn't exactly have the hardest job -all the heroes knew was that he was going to let them in, and search for any information he could find about Thomas within their systems. They still didn't know his power or anything about him, and with any luck, he wouldn't have to see any of them for the rest of the day.

Them apologizing for causing his outburst might make him explode.

When the signal went off, the bright burning light courtesy of the other vigilantes, and just out of sight of the cameras, he was off instinctively. His brain didn't truly process any of his surroundings, or what he was doing. Tommy let his body take control instead, flying to the gate after most of the guards had left and wedging a small fragment of metal between it, just enough to keep it open without drawing too much suspicion, hopefully.

All his mind could think of was his outburst, how he had lashed out at them. He was going to have to confront them about it eventually, whether he liked it or not, but all he could think about was how angry they were going to be, how disappointed, and god they weren't going to want anything to do with him-

In. Out. He was fine.

Tommy's head throbbed, and he fought the urge to shift again, to become human again. He could once he was alone in the control room, and the cameras were disabled. Then maybe he could get his head to stop throbbing, his mind to stop racing, his body to stop aching-

In. Out. Everything's fine. He's fine.

He wasn't sure how he managed to find the security room. He was only vaguely aware of the people who were in there, or when he shifted back.

Tommy didn't even notice when one of them called for backup. He didn't notice how more people came filtering in, or how his back began to throb and ache as he punched and dodged without paying attention, not even bothering to throw witty one-liners or even try to antagonize them.

Distantly, he realized it was probably unwise to continue fighting and putting himself in danger like this.

He also realized he didn't care. The adrenaline that soared through his veins was enough to add some spark to his numbed mind, and that was enough to get him addicted. Even it he had to deal with more injuries later, it was worth it.

In. Out. He was fine. He had to be.

Tommy wasn't even sure when it had gone wrong. Between one breath in the next, he was no longer in the security room, having gone through the files and finding nothing of use, and so he left, wandering, searching for the rest. They were somewhere, he assumed, but he just couldn't tell where. And so he had ended up on the edge of the docks, watching the waves lap against the edge, and then people had stormed in, and there were so many-

Between one breath and the next, there was a familiar object wrapping around his wrist. It dug uncomfortably into his skin, but Tommy barely even noticed it. All he could feel was the lack of a hum under his skin, seeping through his veins, in his control.

All he could focus on was that he didn't feel like anyone at all.

Tommy was fine.

And then, once finally, finally, all of the people in the group were down, passed out or dead, a voice spoke out, loud and booming. It echoed through the area, through his ears.

And all Tommy could feel was fear.

He wasn't fine he wasn't fine he wasn't fine-

Dr. Marcus, a distant part of him registered. Tommy couldn't even tell what the man was saying, all he could focus on was the fear fear fear fear fear-

Something was creaking and shifting, swinging back and forth in front of him, and Tommy barely registered it before it was crashing into him, and it was piling on top of him as he was pushed down into the cold water. It seeped into his skin as he was brought back to awareness by its stinging pain, and it was all he could do to keep from gasping out.

He choked on a cry, blinking rapidly as he tried to swim upwards, even as pressure crashed around him, pushing in at uncomfortable angles, pushing and pulling and-

Everything hurt. His vision had black dots and his brain was foggy. Everything moved so slowly and he just wanted to sleep.

His body let out a breath, and water filled his lungs. His vision faded in and out, flashes of water, or falling shipping containers, or even just his own arms.

Distantly, he registered something pulling him out of the water. A long, spindly limb grasping his torso and pulling him up. The being -whoever it was- tugged down his mask and Tommy sputtered out as much water as his exhausted, battered body could.

A hand curled around his face as a mask, different than his own but similar, was placed on his face, and a voice spoke out.

"Rest, child. Your story is not over yet. Before, you had too many ties, but now you are a blank slate. Rest, and heal yourself. We have much to do once you awake."

The last thing Tommy registered was a mask staring down at him.

A mask with a stark 'x' across it.

And then there was nothing.

Chapter Text

For a while, Tommy wasn't sure what was going on.

A small part of him was aware of the water coating his lungs as he hacked it up, or the small pricks in his arm that dug into his skin. There was darkness, for a while, besides faded, distorted voices, flashing in and out of his hearing, almost like he was underwater, and whoever was speaking was above water.

His vision flashed too -small flashes of color and blurred movement. It was undecipherable, to his muddled brain.

It should have been concerning that he didn't recognize any of the voices, or the figures, but he was too...tired to do that. Everything was dragged out, tedious, and even staying aware of what was going on around him felt like an impossible task.

Still, after a short period of time and yet not long enough at all, he blinked awake, the world blurred around him and heavily muffled, but he was aware. His limbs felt heavy, like they wouldn't move no matter what he did, though he tried his best to let his eyes moves slowly around the room he was in.

It wasn't familiar, nor did it look very...welcoming. It was bare -white and grays in a way that was reminiscent of the Facility but so startlingly different the thought didn't cause too much of a pang of fear dead in his chest. There were no bright colors or personalized objects. It was just...bare. Empty. 

He blinked heavily, letting out a heaving sigh as he tried to flex his fingers, feeling oddly like he was running them through a bowl of molasses, "wha...?"

It was muffled, and he realized there was something covering his mouth. Slowly, his hand moved towards his mouth, pressing onto the object, trying to figure out what it was through touch alone. Shakily, he peeled it off his skin, furrowing his brow at the...oxygen mask that had been plastered to his face. Why did his need an oxygen mask? What had...what had they been doing before this? Why couldn't he remember?

The memories of what had happened before he had passed out were blurry, not quite there. He could see them, but it was like...like he couldn't quite remember anything about it, which was...weird for him. Considering he remembered people from years ago with perfect precision, not being able to remember what had happened to him felt like a big gap in his memory.

Slowly, he forced his body into a sitting position, ignoring the sharp pains that shot through his chest. There was a small grimace on his face, because he felt...weak. Stiff, burdened, but like all the muscle he had spent years building up so he wouldn't be prey in the Facility were gone. He frowned, glancing at his wrist which looked oddly...thin. Like he hadn't been able to eat in the same way he hadn't eaten at the very beginning of his time at the Facility.

His tongue felt like lead, and there was still cotton in his ears, but he ran a hand up the clothes her were wearing. With a start, he realized that he wasn't wearing his costume anymore -not even the under armor he had worn underneath his hoodie. It was just a plain shirt and loose pants, neither of which seemed like someone he knew would have used to patch him up. 

Running a hand on his skin, he noted that there were bandages wrapped around most of his body. His ribs, mainly, which probably explained the burning pain that shot through them whenever he moved, but his arms and legs too. Tommy wondered, idly, whether or not they were for small scrapes or bruises underneath, or maybe even broken ribs in the case of his chest, which would probably explain the tight feeling.

It wouldn't have explained why Drista hadn't healed him yet though, he noted. After a moment, his hand froze at the thought, and his mouth parted in a half-hearted 'oh'.

Because if he wasn't healed yet, that probably meant Drista wasn't here. And if Drista wasn't here, Purpled probably wasn't either, and that meant it was someone he didn't trust that had unmasked him and he was alone again theyhadseperatedthemagain-

His hands were shaking, he realized, and Tommy forced them to grab down onto the thin, scratchy bed sheet below. It was uncomfortable, but enough to keep him ground with the unique texture.

Tommy fought the urge to freak out again, because this felt so like the Facility, like being stuck in that white room for days and days without even hearing a voice and slowly going insane. Like clawing at the walls and begging to see someone, hear someone, even if it was one of the scientists that would experiment on him. Anything to know that he wasn't alone, that he hadn't been forgotten. 

If he had to do that again, he wasn't sure he would survive it this time. After getting a glimpse of freedom, and then having to go back? Tommy would never go through that again. Not if he could help it. They'd have to bar down his arms and legs, suppress his power forever and never let anyone take their eyes off him, because he refused to be subjected to that torture  again.

Never again.

But it wasn't the same, because he couldn't see a lock on the door, and there was a little bit of furnishing in the room that they would have never given him at the Facility. 

Despite his clogged ears, he was still tense, listening for every movement. It was how he worked in unfamiliar environments, especially when he didn't have Purpled or Drista or anyone to rely on. When he was alone.

Which is probably why he was able to register a few footsteps and the twisting of the door handle enough to move himself to the edge of the bed, pressing against the corner defensively as though he was a caged animal preparing to hurt.

The door slid open slowly, though there weren't any creaks, and Tommy couldn't even recognize the person on the other side. A cloak obscuring their body, besides two feet enclosed with stiff looking black boots and their head. Even then, there was a mask with a distinctive X marked over it, a crack on one side of it that left it feeling oddly familiar.

He blinked as a brief thought came to him, of the figure that towered over his body while he felt like passing out. The figure that had dug him out of the water, raising him from his early grave-

Tommy blinked, pausing; water? When had he...

This felt wrong.

If the person was surprised to see him awake, they didn't show it, pausing just a few steps into the room after the door was shut to look at his hunched body. At least. he presumed so, though the mask made it hard to tell, even with the feeling of eyes on his body. It felt oddly like he was being assessed or evaluated, and Tommy shivered at the feeling, biting his lip to keep from letting out a snarky sentence.

Eventually, the person seemed to decide something, moving over to the other side of the bed from where Tommy was hunched before lowering themself into a sitting position, still staring at him. Still, they inclined his head, murmuring out a low greeting, "Theseus."

Tommy, for all he wanted to stay silent, recognized the prompting for a greeting back. In the moment, he wasn't exactly sure what was pushing him to respond; his Tommy side of the instincts that had been burned into him from years at the Facility.

Speak when spoken to.

"Hello."

His voice felt weak, and his throat felt like something slimy had slithered down it, burning and making it weak with sludge. It was almost painful to properly talk, and he twitched his fingers as if attempting to express his discomfort and annoyance.

"I wasn't expecting you to be awake so soon," they commented, leaning back with that X still staring at him, "are you feeling comfortable? We attempted to keep it as simple as possible, as we were unsure what would feel comforting."

Tommy really should have responded to the pleasantries, but he was impatient, and wanted to know what the hell was going on, "who a...are you?

His breath was raspy, but it didn't seem to bother them, as they just tilted their head further, "I'm...oh goodness, I don't know which name you would recognize I have so many. Perhaps..." they paused, "Toxicant? That's one you might know."

Tommy froze. Toxicant. Toxicant.

The mask seemed a lot more familiar to him now.

In lieu of an answer, he whispered out just one word, "X-02?"

It was hesitant, but Toxicant let out a huff of laughter at the name, "indeed. So you haven't forgotten your years in imprisonment then S-264, have you?"

"Forgot?" Tommy felt a flare of anger in his chest, and fought the urge to lash out against the other, "forgot? I'm never going to forget that..that hellish place. Not even if I wanted to."

"Good. You never should," under the words, there was a low hiss, "I'm sure you're confused, aren't you Theseus?"

He snorted, uncurling slightly, "course I am. Why'm I here? Where'r Pur-" he hesitated, "Orpheus and Atalanta? Where even is here?"

Toxicant sighed, "do you remember your...objective with the heroes to end an outpost of the Generation Program's?"

Tommy blinked. That sounded...familiar. Strikingly so. It was there, just under the surface, brushing against his mind. Like...like...

He was drowning. His lungs were full, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. His body was aching and there was a dull pain in his torso and his mouth was full of salt water that was scratching down the inside of his throat and it was burning him alive-

He sucked in a sharp breath, a hand rising to grip at his chest where he could still feel the dull ache from being hit with a shipping container and forced under the water. No wonder he was wrapped with bandages, some of his ribs were definitely broken if not shattered completely.

Everything was fuzzy, but the cold helped. The cold of the water that was drowning him, dragging him under again and again and again and oh god they were going to fulfill their promise to him-

Tommy grit his teeth, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. It was fine. He was fine. He should be getting upset because of this, he had lived through far worse. He was fine. He was...was.

Tommy was fine, he had to be fine.

His eyes, sharp and predatory, snapped to look at Toxicant, the temptation to tears things around him to shreds right on the edge.

Instead, he spoke, quiet but voice filled with a low malice, "what happened to them?"

"You were unsuccessful. I managed to grab you from the water before you were to die from it, but your friends were not as lucky. They are currently locked in one of the backup locations for the Facility in the city," Toxicant's voice almost sounded pitying, but all Tommy wanted was to tear something apart in despair at the news. 

They were back. They had finally gotten free and now the universe decided to say fuck that and bring them back in to all this bullshit. He was going to fucking murder someone, though whether or not that would be someone else or himself remains to be seen.

At least they didn't get Shroud.

"The heroes too?" he murmured, pausing for a moment before adding on, "they were taken too?"

Toxicant nodded gravely, "with the exception of X, Watcher, and Hephaestus, both of which are heavily injured

"And me?" because if Tommy was here, and no one else was, he didn't exactly like what that insinuated they thought.

The other sighed, "they assume that you are dead, Theseus. As do the Facility. All of your personas, Theseus, Tommy, Thomas, Viper, Theodore -there was Theodore, correct?- will be unable to make any appearances in public from this point onward, as the Facility was aware and monitoring them all."

Tommy didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he was missing his friends, and every life he had worked so hard to meticulously build was being torn to shreds by one single failed task. Because he was stupid enough to go into it without being in the right head space. On the other hand, he was also now free of the burden of the Facility because they thought he was dead. This was the perfect opportunity to bring it down.

Permanently.

"You are a blank slate, Theseus," Toxicant continued, "for you to mold in whatever way you wish to rescue your friends, and..."

They paused, "and perhaps destroy was has been plaguing both of us in the process, wouldn't you say?"

Tommy didn't answer, staring blankly ahead of him. This was wrong. He was Tommy; he had to be Tommy, Tommy was all he had left now. No friends, barely one ally he could actually contact, no personas to fall back on or places to hide, the Facility was back on his trail...

He couldn't be Tommy.

Subconsciously, his eyes followed Toxicant as they stood up and left the room, stepping through the door and shutting it behind them. He was alone -he was so goddamn alone.

With a snarl of rage, he slammed his hand into the mattress. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rip someone from the Facility apart with his bare hands and watch as blood seeped from their goddamn throats-

He sucked in a breath, canines digging into his lip and causing beads of blood to swell, and a sharp pain to spike, though it was nothing compared to the aching of ribs. Anger was helpful, yes, but too much was dangerous. And he...

Tommy and Theseus were built to handle anger. They were created in anger -fused deep within and existing to target the remnants of the things that had hurt him as a person. He...

He wasn't them right now. He just was.

Bruised and bloodied and injured, but he was alive. 

At this point, he didn't know if he counted as human anymore.

He wasn't supposed to be like this.

Wasn't supposed to be-

Be-

"You're a blank slate, Theseus."

Blank.

He was blank. Blank in the whiteness of the voice, in dull eyes and a lack of emotions. Blank in a hollow voice and blank in movement he picked for himself.

He was...he was a true blank slate. Every personality he had created before had almost instantly had their personality, because that's who he needed to be. But now...now...

Now he needed to learn through experience. Tommy and Theseus both had a screw vision of ethics and morality because of their experiences with the Facility and the lingering fear. Viper had to be cool and slick and slightly sadistic to survive in the criminal-ridden bar. Theodore needed to be the doting older brother to show he wasn't a threat to the others.

He needed to be blank. He needed to learn and grow in ways that he had never gotten to before. Sure, faster than most people, but it was the only thing that might be able to help him win this fight.

His form, he noted, shifted with his thoughts. He wasn't Theseus anymore, no matter what others said, Theseus was dead for a while.

Betrayed and tossed off a cliff to drown.

White hair shifted around his face, falling and scraggly, like it hadn't been washed or cut during his life. Though it wasn't by much, his skin paled, and the scars covering his body darkened, accenting themselves against his ghostly pale skin. His eyes, a bright blue before, faded, receding into a stormy gray.

He thought he looked like a ghost.

The ghost of the Facility. Of his past and everything he had been forced to live through and moved past. Even though there was a spark of satisfaction that flickered in his chest, his lips didn't move, staying resolutely in place.

He needed a name.

The ones before couldn't be used, they were dead. He needed something else, something different, something-

"You're a blank slate, Theseus."

"-a blank slate-"

"-blank-"

Blank. He was Blank, and he would end this cycle of torment the Facility brought. He would learn and grow, but mostly...

Mostly he would would be the past coming to haunt people.

A very much alive ghost, still stalking the past. Ready to prowl, ready to to kill.

Ready to prove himself.

He refused to fail this time. Damn the consequences.

Theseus was dead, as the story stated it would always happen. Theseus was temporary, something that would never, could never last. 

But his ghost? That would never die. His memory would remain in legends and stories, and the ghosts that lurk just behind doorways. They would remain in things that would never be wiped away, and that was enough.

They had given him an opportunity, and that was their downfall. He was Blank, and he was ready to haunt.

Chapter Text

"The backup location of the Facility is worse than the original one you were in. That's why it took them so long to find us -they were attempting to create a prison that they hoped could contain us permanently."

Toxicant sat across from him in the rather small room, blueprints of the building hanging on the walls and scattered on the table between them, and even a few dropped and folded on the floor. Every page was covered in meticulous notes and diagrams, carefully crafted theories and ideas left.

He hummed in response, barely glancing up from the ventilation layout that sat slightly crumpled in his hands.

They clicked their tongue, "extensive questioning to be hired, security cameras that cover every inch of the place. The cells are heavily reinforced, and higher containment cells are made of a combination of pure steel and titanium. Guards are stationed at every hallway intersection, and there's a constant patrolling perimeter around it, with no trees anywhere in a 400 foot range. Plus the core that they use to power the facility is now patrolled by triple the amount of guards, and automatically reset every day through an online software. Cuffs are inspected every other day for bugs, and have been designed to wrap completed around your hands like gloves, making them even harder to get off."

Blank whistled, "so they want to keep people in and keep us out. How long did it take you to find this stuff anyway?"

"Our best bet," Toxicant continued, unbothered by his interruption, "would be to find a...non destructive way of infiltrating."

He raised a brow at that, tilting his head up to stare at the sleek mask that covered their face, "and how would you suggest we do that?"

Toxicant sighed, "there are only two types of people in the building -prisoners and guards."

Blank sucked in a breath, his body tensing, "you want me to sneak in."

"Correct. If, at all, that is possible for you," they shrugged.

He bit his lip, "if I go in as a subject, I'm not going to be able to get out again."

"You will if we do this properly," Toxicant countered, "though they have designed it in an attempt to counter my abilities, they haven't designed it to counter yours."

They leaned backwards, head tilting as Blank looked away, "I'm not going to force you into it, Blank, but I am more beneficial to us outside of the Facility. Once they have me, it's hard to tell what they'd do to the building so that none of us left. They still think that you're dead -we must use that to our advantage."

Blank considered, tilting his head to the side even as fear seized his chest at the idea of entering any Facility location again, "wouldn't a guard be better? I've hard the opportunity of the surprise, and there wouldn't be as many regulations on my powers or location."

"It would," Toxicant agreed, "however, we'd need to find the appropriate candidate and opportunity. Someone too high ranking could case suspicious or be harder to get alone, while someone too low wouldn't be able to get us the access that we need. They'd need to have an easy power for you to fake replicating, work in the correct department for you to have access to everything you'd need, and be alone enough that we could find a time to keep them far away from the Facility."

He frowned, wanting to argue even if he knew that Toxicant was right. There was no way that Blank would be able to infiltrate as a guard without the right circumstances, but even if they managed to find someone who met all the right criteria, he'd need to wing it on his duties inside of the Facility. by all means, it would be easier for him to go in as a subject than it would to pretend to be a guard.

Blank...he didn't know if he was ready for that. To sit in the same maddening white cell again and to wake up to the same food again and to be tortured and experimented on and be seen as something less than human. He wasn't sure if he could live seeing those white walls again, or seeing the disgusting look in the eyes of scientists, as if he was nothing more than a lab rat, another experiment for them to toy around with until they got it right.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to see the look in his family's eyes if they realized who he is. Was. He's not Tommy anymore.

Maybe, he thinks, they already know. Maybe the Facility told them in order to try and break them down more, or maybe Purpled and Drista wanted to give them hope to continue onward.

Blank really isn't sure whether or not he wants them to have found out already. Whether the relief of not having to tell them outweighs the terror of not knowing how they reacted to the news. He thinks, maybe, he'd prefer for them to never find out at all, even with all he's been doing to help them along.

He feels like a little kid again, locked in a dark truck against his will, only one person at his side, a unsure  future filled with terrifying possibilities. Only this time, he's not a kid, and has already seen the horrors that this world has to offer.

He's only terrified of them coming up with worse.

Water filling up his throat, sharp objects cutting at his chest and arms, being strapped down, helpless in his thin underfed body to do anything against those that hold him captive.

"We'll research first," he decides verbally, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

"I'll research first," Toxicant corrects, head still tilted in his direction.

Blank turns to him in confusion, a flare of anger sparking in his chest, "excuse me? Toxicant, with all due respect, my friend are in there, and you're trying to ship me off in there too, I'd like to at least be involved in the conversation about the possible end to my freedom-"

"That's not what I'm saying," they hold up a hand, "Blank, you are powerful. A strong opponent to be sure, but you lack..." they pause for a few seconds, "...refinement. None of your abilities or techniques are refined. You must learn discipline; both with your skill and your...temper, should you want to successfully infiltrate the Facility. Neither of which, I'm afraid, I will be able to teach you well, especially not while I'm working on researching to make sure that the plans works flawlessly."

He huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back and glared, "then who will."

Toxicant reached down below the desk, rolling their shoulders, "I do believe you already know him, Blank."

With that, they raised their hand, setting a stack of papers down on the mass of blueprints and plans that covered the desk. It looked similar to the file that he himself had discovered in the old stuff Sam had kept down in his lab, the ones that detailed Toxicant himself.

Hesitating, he reached a hand towards the paper, pulling them closer to look at them. The front page was covered with only a picture, a few notes and a headline.

A headline that read G-126: Dream/Error.

Fucking shit.

Chapter Text

Blank didn't know what he was more concerned about -Dream finding out that he he was a vigilante, Dream finding out his sister had been kidnapped, or the fact that Dream was going to 'discipline' him.

Whatever the hell that meant.

Nonetheless, he followed the address Toxicant had given him, slipping in and out of alleys as he pleased. Even with his altered form, he really didn't want to be found after so recently being presumed dead, and one could never be too careful.

His body ached. Drista would murder him if she knew he was walking around with such tenuous injuries, but he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't, because they're alone and back in the one place he swore they would never be again, and it's all his fucking fault-

The outer edge of the city was in the worst condition he had scene anything, even with his limited time outside of the Facility. He'd been there occasionally, but never for leisure. The closest he'd come to that was taking Shroud out on walks so the younger boy could get his energy out, though they'd never walked close enough for him to see anything beyond a few dilapidated buildings.

Tommy doesn't want to think about Shroud. It lurks, in the back of his mind, that his younger brother must be so terrified, praying that they're coming home soon. He wonder's, belatedly, in the back of his mind, behind the persona, how Shroud felt when he heard the news of his death. He wonders who told him.

Tommy thinks he should stop thinking. Blank's in control for a reason.

He doesn't bother knocking on the rusty metal door that separates the building from the outside world. There's no reason to, really, not when he can just shift to-

Blank ends up climbing through a second story window, shoving it upwards just enough to fall to the ground with a duck and roll. It makes his ribs ache and his lungs seize in their sensitive state, but he ignores it.

He's good enough to work, and there's no time for healing when they're planning an underground war against the Facility.

There's no one waiting for him inside. Blank can't tell if he was expecting that or not -Toxicant seemed to think that Dream was fairly punctual, if not early most days.

Granted, Blank isn't sure if the Error persona has changed how Dream thinks now, or if his arrival time depends on which persona he puts on. It's hard to guess when he isn't even really sure how his own power works, let alone the older brother of one of his friends who he never even really knew well.

Something moves behind him, and Blank twitches.

He wonders if its too late to grab a blunt object to throw at whoever is behind him, Dream or not.

Still, he doesn't turn around, despite his fingers twitching for something to grab, "Hello...Dream?"

There's a few moments of tense silence, before a familiar-sounding huff sounds. Blank whirls around on his heels, makes eye contact with the man standing behind him, and promptly decides that he hates Dream.

Drista's brother or not, he wants to beat the shit out of the man who already has a smug expression on his face. Tommy wonders what it would be like to shift into a wolf, whether ripping out his throat would feel the same way clawing at the Facility personnel had felt when he first did it. He wonders if a vindictive pleasure would grasp at him again while-

Blank shoves those thoughts away. He swears he feels his powers twitch in the back of his head, and his skin glows for a moment, lighting up despite the pitch darkness of the building.

He's fine.

"Theseus," Dream greets, and Blank scowls.

"Not Theseus," he corrects, because Theseus is dead dead dead, "Blank."

The older man waves him off, "Of course, of course, how could I forget? Toxicant told me of your...circumstances."

Blank hates the way he says that. He hates the way he moves like he owns the world, hates the way that the lazy smirk on his face never leaves. He hates the way that his intonation feels like that of the people who would study him in his own personal cage. He hates everything about this situation.

He hates everything about Dream.

Blank has the feeling that he's going to regret agreeing to XD's plan.

"I hate you."

He isn't entirely sure where the blunt statement comes from, but he can't really bring himself to regret it either when it wipes that stupid look off of his face. The look of pure confusion isn't much better, but he prefers it to the smugness that reminds him all-too much of the Facility and their workers.

If nothing else, he supposes, at least spending time with Dream means he'll get to piss him off. There had never been a chance to do that with the scientists he knew from the Facility.

At least, not without getting strapped down to a table and having his rib ripped out.

Tommy had learned where the line was when that happened. He still woke up, sometimes, scared and clawing at his chest as he begged for it to stop, for fucks sake, why won't it s t o p-

He's fine. He has to be, because Tommy is shoved away, and his powers have always worked before, but he's Blank and not Tommy so Tommy's thoughts aren't there.

They're not.

They can't be.

He wants to lunge forward and bury his teeth in Dream's throat. He wants to hear him scream, wants to bring him to his knees with blood gurgling out of his mouth as he tries desperately to scream for help-

He feels dangerous.

He doesn't know who's talking anymore.

Dream shifts his head, the mask plastered to the side of his skull shifting with it, "You're not what I thought you'd be, Blank."

The way he emphasizes the name means something, he's sure. Blank just can't tell what.

His head hurts hurts hurts. He's shaky and his powers are flickering and the lines between who he is and who he was and who he could be feel like they're getting thinner and thinner.

Blank has a feeling this plan isn't going to work very well.

Chapter Text

"How does your power work?"

Blank shifts from position against the wall, ignoring the throb of his power as it begs him to turn back, to let go and stop holding up a form that is so wrong.

He sends Dream an incredulous look, tucking his head a little further into the embrace of his hoodie. The man already knows what his power is -he's a shapeshifter, and judging by the amount of information he had on him, Blank was willing to bet that XD gave him a handmade file.

The man rolls his eyes, adjusting the mask slightly so it settles fully in front of his face, "There is a difference between knowing what your power is and knowing how it works, idiot. Given what I know about you, I'd guess you really only know the first."

Blank's face shifts into a glower. He knows how his power worked already -knowledge on biology lends him the ability to shift his form into any natural element. It's not fucking hard to understand, and the unnecessary questions from Dreams are pissing him off.

He's questioning his knowledge.

It makes Tommy want to rip his throat out. Dream will see if he's knowledgeable one here when his guts are strewn on the floor.

Something tight wraps around his throat, catching his breath before it can get out, and all he can focus on is the fact that he can't fucking breathe.

Dream rolls his eyes, "You're such a child. Look, on your file, it says it's harder for you to shift into a person than a human, right? Why is that, or are you too stupid to even try and figure it out?"

"Fuck off," he rasps, grimacing at the fact that the release doesn't seem to loosen his throat, "I'm not a child."

"You're certainly acting like one."

Blank huffed, crossing his arms before choosing to settle for sending a glare in the man's direction. Still, he lets his mind wander for a few moments.

Why was shifting to a person harder? He hadn't done it much; a few times with Purpled, once or twice with Drista, and he didn't really know if his fictional personas truly counted. Everyone else felt too...distant to do it. Even if they were a normal human he knew the biology of, it didn't matter. All he could think about was that he didn't know them and then even when the process of shifting would happen he'd end up right back in his normal form.

He was missing something.

"Ah, there we go," Dream hums, his tone far too smug for Blank's liking, "You're thinking about it. What's different, Thomas?"

The use of his original name makes something within him snarl, pulling at him to run and fight and do anything but stay in the presence of this man.

It feels like that small part of the little boy who was trapped in a van. Like the terrified child who lunged out and ripped and tore so he could stay alive.

Like the part of him that would do anything to survive.

Whatever is wrapped around his throat loosens at his rage long enough for him to hiss out, "Don't fucking call me that."

Dream waves him off, and the fact that the man is so dismissive makes the vines tighten stronger than they were before, and it makes Blank want to vomit. 

The man raises a...semi-valid point though. What's different about people? Organically speaking, they should be easier to shift into. He was already human, so it wasn't like much needed to change through the process, just a little of their size, maybe an organ or two depending on the power, a couple of physical characteristics, and-

Oh.

Blank felt like an idiot.

"There it is," and despite Dream's self-satisfied tone, he can't bring himself to care because he's been living with and learning about his power for years and he never even considered that the brain was what gave his power life.

It should have been obvious. The brain was the most complex organ, formed of billions of nerves -of course it would be an issue. His perception of the person or creature has always affected them physically, so why wouldn't it affect them mentally? It would explain why he couldn't mimic less-known people; he didn't have a grasp on their capabilities or personalities, so of course the brain wouldn't be able to fully develop and his power would automatically revert to his natural form.

Everything about his power depended on his perception.

Half of his brain was wondering if that was why all of his animal forms were so violent and protective of the people he cared about. Whenever he shifted as a child, all he could focus on was that he was alone and wanted to be protected, and that extended to his form. His perception of the world altered his shape shifting.

The other half of his brain could only think one thing;

What the fuck.