Chapter Text
“Dream’s recent attacks have been reckless, and desperate, since the death of Nightmare, the other half of the terrifying duo. Two Heroes, Odysseus and The Captain, say that although this might mean an easier capture, citizens still need to be careful because he’s so unpredic-” The TV clicks off.
Memememememeh- villains, villains- like the heroes are any better?
Tommy had never enjoyed being a villain. He’d always wished they could go about things a different way. Because no- don’t be a fucking asshole — but what are the alternatives? Be a hero in a seriously corrupt system? No thank you.
They could’ve been vigilantes, but Dream always said they don’t make any actual change. No one has any reason to listen to vigilantes! They’re just wannabe heroes. If the Heroes Association gave them a chance to be a hero, they’d take it. Without a second thought.
But still, he could be different. Hell, he thinks with a smirk, I already am. He’d been a vigilante for about a week now, and he was never going to be a hero.
Right now is one of his rare off days. He’s not patrolling and he’s not working at Puffy’s. Now, he’s taking some time to relax. The news just didn’t get the memo.
His stomach gurgles and Ew. Guess it’s time for lunch. As he stretches and walks to his kitchen, he wonders what he’ll find stashed around. Probably expired microwave meals, he snorts.
Tommy, in all honesty, is poor. You could tell with one look at his apartment — in L’Manburg’s lower districts, with a couch he’d found on a curb, an old TV, and stains and cracks littering his walls. He was barely able to afford rent, let alone proper meals.
Besides, he opens the fridge, big men can live off bread alone. And there it is, his last 3 slices of bread. No microwave meals , he thinks bitterly. The bread has a little mould. It’s not that bad, but it’ll be inedible if he doesn’t finish it now. But if he finishes now he won’t have anything for tomorrow, and he doesn’t have the money to go grocery shopping yet.
Guess he’ll have to go to the ‘food bank’ again. It’s not really a food bank, just a spot in the middle districts where they like to keep out free food for the ‘less fortunate.’ Tommy only ever goes during rent weeks when he can’t afford food any more— he hates the walk and the pitying glances always sent his way— but it’s safe, because one of the top heroes are usually there to help their image.
They only go because if they help poor people, the public will think better of them. If they have a scandal, just watch, they’re gonna swoop in and give a ‘generous donation’ and it’ll be all over the News. Tommy doesn’t wanna be part of some cover up more than necessary. No thank you. Not again.
—
“ Dreeeammm, where did I come from?! Where are my parents?” He was 7. ████ was all he really knew, and he wanted some answers.
“
If I tell you, you’ll shut up and leave me alone for the rest of the day,” ████ responds. He’s answered with a nod. ████ sighs, “Right.”
“
I found you. When you were 3.”
███████ sits, expectantly waiting. They sit for a second, “aannddd…?”
████ sighs, clearly annoyed, “Your… ‘parents’ were heroes ,” he spits, “and I was going through their house. Looking for… something. Doesn’t matter,” he tries to trail off, but ███████ wasn’t having it.
“When I didn’t back off, they abandoned you in your crib. Took the other kids instead. I… felt bad for you and… I mean, well. I took you in. And now I’m stuck with
you
.”
“
...They left me?”
“ They left you.”
—
On second thought, Tommy really can’t eat this bread. And he has nothing else. The bread is completely covered in green and white mould, and he knows from experience that eating something this mouldy is more trouble than it’s worth. So, he can either walk to the middle districts or starve.
...I guess the walk isn’t that bad.
Walking down the apartment’s staircase (after locking his door, of course. He had 4 locks and was going to use them. Even if he has nothing worth stealing.), he ignores the mysterious stains and his weird neighbours.
The streets of Lower District L’Manburg are not something you can ignore, though. Zoning out is how you get mugged. It takes too long to get to the Middle Districts. Once he’s there, he looks around for the good stuff and, of course, spots a hero. Achilles. Just his luck.
You see, Achilles is one of the few heroes he actually tolerates — maybe likes. He just seems cool. And he doesn’t get nearly as uneasy looking at him as he does Epimetheus. Epimetheus’s not scary or intimidating , he just brings out a… bad feeling of deja vu. He feels unsafe.
The same thing happened with Dream, sometimes. When he was carrying his iron axe, or when he got a certain look in his eyes, or when he said something familiar , or when-
It was very circumstantial. He doesn’t need to think about it.
He walks up to the food already laid out. Most of the tasty stuff is gone, but some of the stuff that lasts the longest are still here. He starts filling his bag with canned food, occasionally grabbing some water bottles or some microwave meals from the coolers.
He never likes to take too much, so he grabs just enough for max 2 weeks, eating once a day, being careful with what he grabs and what he doesn’t. The goal is to get in and get out as fast as possible. He only notices Achilles standing behind him when he backs up into him.
Tommy looks back, slightly panicked, eyes wide and scowling, “What the fuck is your problem? Didn’t come here to pick up any food, I’m guessing? ” Achilles seems surprised.
“Uh… No. I’m here because of peer pressure,” he says. Tommy raises a brow. “Do… you wanna go get lunch?” Achilles asks.
Tommy snorts, “Can’t- too busy with my Michelin star microwave meals. Don’t worry, I’m sure someone else can help you afford your lunch,” Tommy rolls his eyes and starts walking away.
“I’d pay.”
“Deal.”
—
A 5 year old boy had walked into the bedroom, tears streaming down his face, lips wobbling. He barely held back tears, heaving himself up onto the bed to hide. He’s always safe with a grown-up!
He slips under the blankets carefully, trying to get warm when- “Whhat the fuck…?” ████ mutters groggily, moving to wipe his eyes. He turns around, towards ███████.
The boy relaxes, knowing he’d be safe and watched-over while he slept. Nothing would steal him away. He’d be okay. Then he was pushed onto the floor, hitting his head on the hardwood.
“What exactly did you think you were doing there?” ████ asks, angrily. He was sitting up, and staring at the boy. Worse than a glare. It was observant, analyzing. The tears bubbled back up into his eyes.
“I-I’m- I had- had a- hic - badd-hhh-dream!” He cried out, sobbing. He reaches his arms out hesitantly, wanting a hug. Comfort. But scared of the pain it could bring.
And he was right to be. “Well, you’re gonna want to start running, ███████. You just woke up a nightmare.”
—
Achilles brought him to a small bakery. It was wooden- a calming mid-tone oak, complemented by smooth pink and darker polished wood. “Not what I was expecting, Achilles, but it’ll do,” Tommy says. It’s a nice place, run by someone named Niki based on the sign. He was just expecting… something more filling. Nutritious. Not a bakery .
“Achilles! Welcome back, who’s that with you?” A lady with pink hair says. She’s behind the counter, probably working there. Achilles goes to respond but- “Tommyinnit, Big Man extraordinaire. I would like the most expensive things on your menu, please,” Tommy breathes out. “I’m paying,” a head turns, “out of Achilles’s wallet,” he adds. (He swears he hears a quiet ‘bruhh’ at that.)
Niki smiles Tommy’s way, “Achilles, is this gremlin eating through your wallet?”
“Can I have my usual? Thanks, Niki,” Achilles asks. “Yes, yes, thank you Niki, I love women,” Tommy adds. Niki smiles and goes to make their order.
“So… you love women.” Achilles says after a couple moments of silence. “Yes. I hate men,” Tommy tacks on, leaning against the counter.
More awkward silence. Achillies clears his throat, “What’s your opinion on… anarchy?” “BAHAHHA- ANARCHY?- Achilles, you are employed by the government- why is your small talk anarchy?”
“Odysseus is my boss, not the government. You may have heard about my last meeting with the President,” Achilles says casually.
“What did you do ?” The Big Man is getting some blackmail. He is getting dirt on THE Achilles.
Achilles gets a smug smile, “Let’s just say I greeted him with a crossbow to the face-”
“ A crossbow? Man, you are cooler than I thought. Do you want to do crime with me, Big Man?” Tommy offers. He’s not sure why, the last person he did crime with-
Let’s not think about that right now.
“ Heh? Crime? How about organised violence to push political ideals. I’m sure Epimetheus would commit some crimes with you, though,” Achilles says.
Tommy scrunches his nose up. “Epithemus is a dumb bitch. Why the fuck would he be named that? It’s cuz he’s stupid, isn’t it.”
“Wait- why the hell are you named Achilles?? Isn’t his whole thing like… that he has a bad ankle? Is that your weakness? Your ankle? ”
“I… No. I’m Achilles because I represent strength. Achilles was an extremely strong warrior in the Trojan War, and he should be known for his successes. Not to mention, the achilles tendon wasn’t in his original myth. And it wasn’t his fault, everyone has a weakness,” Achilles states.
“Sure, but that’s a shit weakness. All someone needs to do is bite his ankle and-”
“Achilles! Your order’s ready,” Niki calls. They head over and Achilles pays, while Tommy makes fun of him for having shit ankles, then they take a seat at one of the tables. Tommy kind of forgot his order, so he’s a little surprised when he finds 4 pastries and a hot cocoa. Probably not the most expensive things, he thinks, but probably the best.
It is delicious. He doesn’t remember ever having freshly baked pastries, or fresh… anything, really. This is a fucking treat. And don’t even get him started on the hot cocoa. It’s possibly the best thing he’s ever tasted… Achilles just watches him dig in without a complaint. It’s weird.
Once Tommy’s done with most of his pastries, he clears his throat and asks, “Why did you take me out to lunch? I’m a minor so this is very creepy, actually.”
“Well, Odysseus and Epimetheus said that you come around once a month and stockpile food. We figured you might want to eat out. Microwaved food doesn’t usually taste that great,” Achilles explains.
Oh. “Don’t you patronise me, dickhead! I will- do shit to you - bitch!” Achilles looks at him with amusement in his eyes. He thought there was something else there. Fondness? But that wouldn’t make sense. He’s just seeing things again.
“Anyway, Big Man, I appreciate you paying for me because you should- you made the right decision - but I must go back to a busy day of laying at home and watching Up. Farewell, King,” Tommy says, getting ready to leave.
“Uh- runt, wait!” Tommy glares, I’m not a runt, “same time next week?”
Tommy automatically nods and speed walks away. Oh. Same time next week?
Welllll shit.