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Tommy’s mask is destroyed.
The red and white covering that typically sticks to his face is hanging on by a thread, burnt edges barely holding on for dear life.
Tommy’s barely holding on for dear life.
Burns covers him from head to toe, and it’s a miracle his suit is still on his body. Still, steaming hot pain keeps spiking occasionally, and Tommy lays on the ground inside a burning building as his limbs jolt every time more hot ash lands on his skin. He can’t breathe very well, and a part of him wants to get up.
But he can’t disappoint his family like that.
Turning as slow as a snail, Tommy rolls over onto his stomach. A cry escapes him as the movement tugs on blazing hot skin, and he knows that parts of his body are literally peeling from the burns.
He tries to use his water manipulation powers to push back the flames a little bit, but there’s no water to pull from the air. He’s useless.
The building creaks, and Tommy starts crawling to the bright outside shining in from a hole about 10 feet away. A piece of his mask is hanging in front of his eyes and in a split second of judgment, Tommy rips off the entire mask.
Gasping for breath but inhaling smoke filled air, Tommy fills his lungs. It doesn’t help, sending him into a coughing fic that threatens to collapse his crawl as he has to bring a hand to his chest.
His chest is tight, but if he doesn’t make it to that open hole, he will die. Resuming his crawl, and trying to ignore the choking hold over his throat, Tommy moves towards the hole.
It’s almost unreachable, the ten feet equivalent to ten miles in Tommy’s head. And it’s so hot his tears are evaporating before that can drip to the dirty foundation.
All because Tommy wanted to play hero like his older brothers and dad. All because Tommy couldn’t handle a no, that he’s too young to go out and almost die to save others.
How laughably correct Wilbur was when he said that.
Limbs heavy and scorching ash and fire licking his sides, Tommy’s almost to the exit. It’s just within reach, and his unprotected face has no barriers from the heat.
It feels like his face is melting, like his skin is dripping down his face like a burning candle. The places where his suit is ripped or has melted off feel the exact same. Tommy won’t be surprised if he’s been burnt to the bone in some places, at least, that’s what it feels like.
Even when he was stabbed in the side by that mangy mugger a few months ago didn’t hurt as much as this. He was able to use his water manipulation to push the person away.
Crying out, Tommy’s arms give out from under him, sending him face first into the hard, hot, concrete. It ignites even more again on his face, and he can’t find the will to crawl the remainder of the way.
In a last ditch effort as he quickly loses consciousness, Tommy sticks his hand through the hole he was meant to go through.
So close, yet so far.
Wilbur stands outside a burning hotel with his hands on his hips. Him, Techno, and Phil have done everything they can and now have to watch as firefighters attempt to kill the fire.
It’s not Wilbur’s fault his pyrokinetic powers get out of hand sometimes.
But, in their hero personas, Wilbur’s family minus Tommy rescued everyone from the building and stopped the villain they were trying to catch. Now they’re just making sure nobody gets hurt while water sprays from hoses.
Moments like these make Wilbur wish Phil hadn’t told Tommy “no” to becoming a hero; his water powers would be insanely useful right now.
But Tommy is only 17, and he’s safe at home, probably watching the fight while doing homework.
“Ember!” Techno calls, “they’ve got the fire situated, we can go.”
Wilbur nods, stepping over some rubble and taking one last glance at the building burning down. Scanning the ground, Wilbur furrows his brow. It must be a trick of the light.
He leans closer, and freezes.
It’s definitely not an illusion.
There’s a hand outreaching from a hole about 6 inches big, close to the ground. Wilbur snaps back into action, sprinting over to the hand and starting to dig.
Fire doesn’t affect him, and what should be burning through his hands feels normal.
Breathing heavily from exertion, Wilbur years at the hole piece by piece under it’s about a foot big. Wincing at the thought of how much pain this’ll be, Wilbur grabs the hand and pulls.
“Hercules!” Wilbur calls for Techno. He needs his brother’s super strength because the person keeps snagging on debris. If Techno can hold the entrance up then Wilbur can pull the person out. Hopefully they’re alive.
Techno runs over to Wilbur, skidding to a stop. Luckily, Techno has his fireproof gloves on (even then Phil’s healing ability would help him there), and he quickly pushes the entrance higher, high enough for Wilbur to go in.
Squinting his eyes as gray ash flitters in the air, Wilbur blindly picks up the unconscious—well, hopefully unconscious—body and throws him over his shoulder.
He can slightly feel a chest breathing on his shoulder, and Wilbur sighs in relief. The person is at least alive, thankfully.
It’s a short half-jog to the ambulances lining the streets a block away. Dozens of people with burn wounds and other injuries are being tended to, and Wilbur spots Phil flitting among them, healing people with just his touch.
Flipping the person gently down on their back, Wilbur freezes for the second time of the day.
It’s Tommy.
Footsteps walk up behind him, and Wilbur can feel Techno’s shock radiating off him. It’s their little brother, all 17 years old of him lying prone with his face slack.
Burns decorate his body with the worst being his arms to his palms and knees to his feet. It’s safe to assume Tommy—Tommy—tried to crawl out of the building.
Rationally, Techno calls Phil over, and Phil immediately gets to work, his golden power healing over Tommy’s burns and leaving the faintest scars.
Phil’s hands finally touch the palms of Tommy’s hands, and Wilbur frowns at his dad’s sullen look.
“He might lose feeling in his hands, palms, and top of his feet,” Phil says, almost disconnected. Wilbur doesn’t blame him. “I’ll do what I can.”
“What was he even doin’ there,” Techno says. Even though Wilbur can’t see his older brother’s face, he knows that his monotone voice does not reflect his expressions. “He’s s’posed to be at home.”
Wilbur’s nose scrunches, and he inspects the clothes Tommy is wearing. They look… familiar.
Glimpses and memories of a vigilante with water based powers invade Wilbur’s mind and his jaw drops.
“He’s Cascade, Techno,” Wilbur realizes, nudging Techno’s side. “Look, same suit around his middle. He’s that vigilante.”
Gasping, Phil shoots his head up. “I told him no.”
“What?” Wilbur says, confused.
“He told Tommy ‘no’ to becoming a hero, and a week later a new vigilante with powers similar to Tommy’s entered the field,” Techno explains further.
Wilbur pieces the information together, and yeah, it checks out. At least Tommy’s alive.
Not for long, however, with how deadly Phil’s lecture is going to be when Tommy wakes up.