Chapter Text
L’Manburg was always prettier after hours
Sure, it was always pretty, but there was just something so intoxicating about how the city looked when covered in the warm glow of the sun.
Not that Tommy knew much about being intoxicated, the few times he tried alcohol were sips of shitty wine that tasted too much like a mouthful of vinegar and dirt during just as shitty family get-togethers.
As if he needed those losers anyways!
Plus, he was doing just fine without those fuckers, thank you very much. Tommy had his own apartment (that he shared with Ranboob of all people), he ate whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted, (typically take out because the last time Ran had tried to boil water, the kitchen almost burned down) - and he had the coolest job in the world!
Well, according to the law or whatever, vigilantism wasn’t a job. ‘Technically,’ it was a crime, but when was the last time Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit let ‘the law’ be the boss? Exactly. Never.
Besides avoiding the law, however, Tommy currently stands at the rooftop of Schlatt Industries, ducking and narrowly missing the fist of a much larger attacker, if he said so himself, before darting beneath them. Almost instantly, he drives his elbow into their ribs before hissing to his earbud.
“Ender? C’mon- Ender, Ran! Are you there- stupid piece of shit!”
No response.
Quiet static buzzes on the other line, and Tommy resists the urge to scream. He instead lets out a quiet slew of curses, ranging from how he plans on murdering Ender if, and when, he got out of this, to how much stupid this was.
He then ducks, just barely dodging the swing of the attacker, before driving his elbow into their shoulder blade with a huff.
“C’mon now, big man, don’t you wanna talk this out? Maybe over a nice cup of tea?”
He grins as he steps to the side. They pause with an unamused expression, giving Tommy just enough time to kick their side before being pushed off, and all he can feel is the buzzing beneath his skin, the coldness of the railings. He steadies his grasp on it behind him.
"Oi, no need to be so mean-" Tommy nervously laughs, hands up defensively, "You wouldn't hit a fella with braces would you?"
Another swing, another duck.
“I mean, maybe you would, but you’re doing a bad job at it, mate,” Tommy snickers, “Oh! Can you just not hit me ‘cause you're too weak ?”
Their eyes widen with rage and the rooftop begins to light up in a yellow hue. Sparks of electricity fly from their fists, and Tommy’s grin falters as they start to stride towards him.
“What, cat finally got your tongue, you little rat?” They hiss, coming dangerously close to Tommy, “I was gonna let you leave free of harm, if you just compiled and gave me the bag, but I’ll have much more fun shuttin’ you up for good.”
Tommy shuts his eyes, probably for the best, as he hopes that at least his gorgeous face wouldn’t be maimed too badly.
Yet, nothing came.
There was a pause, before Tommy feels himself being immediately dropped, back cracking on the metal bars as pain shoots through his spine. With wide eyes snapping open, he watches his attacker get knocked back onto their ass and a burst of joy rises in him, until he realises who had saved him.
Oh great, of course Spectre had to save him. Why couldn’t it have been someone cooler, like the Blade , even Zephyr or the Captain would’ve been neat.
“I just saved your life, kid, no need to be so rude!” Spectre huffs, trading blows with the attacker, while Tommy steadies himself against the railings, the pain fading into a dull ache.
Did he really say that outloud? Whoops.
“For starters, not a kid,” He bites back, stepping forwards, “And secondly, get out of the way!” Before the striker gets the chance to, Tommy thinks back to moments prior.
Crackles of electricity, blinding yellow sparks.
His hands light up in a similar bright yellow shade, before Tommy pulls back, and swings at them.
The light is almost blinding, and the shock sends him almost doubling over in pain, gripping the railings tightly to steady himself. As the smoke dissipates, relief washes over him to see the attacker hunched over on the ground, seemingly out.
Spectre on the other hand gawks at Tommy.
“What? Take a picture, it’ll last longer, dumbass.” Tommy replies after a moment of silence, stretching his limbs, and going to walk past him. He doesn’t get very far, however, before Spectre steps in front of him, eyes narrowing behind the mask with suspicion.
“That was- who are you? You’re not a hero, are you?” The hero demands, arms crossing as he tries to block Tommy’s path who only nervously laughs in return. He gives him a shrug of the shoulders.
“Hero, shmero, it’s all the same, yeah. See, I don’t discriminate between the two, just like with women, you get me?” Tommy rambles on while he slowly inches towards the rails, centimetres close to freedom. Arms gesture around haphazardly as if to make his point as he continues, “Do you believe in the wage gap, Spectre?”
“I- what the fuck?” The suddenness of the question and the abrupt change in topics only baffles Spectre more, who stumbles back in confusion. He then rubs the bridge of his nose where his mask comes to a point,, as if trying to rid the growing migraine that was the vigilante in front of him.
As he unnerves himself, only then does he notice Tommy, leg hitched over the railings. “You little shit, you’re not getting off the hook that easily.”
“Listen, big man, I’d love to sit and chat, but really, I’ve got places to go, people to see, my many many wives are expecting me, but let’s chat again soon, buh-bye!”
“Oh no you’re not, stay where you are! ” Spectre commands, and Tommy freezes up, horror washing over him, watching the hero go to grab the metal handcuffs attached to his belt.
Gods, he really was in for it now.
How embarrassing it would be, Tommy imagines, that out of all the heroes and villains he’s evaded so far, of course it’s the vocal hero who catches him, not even someone kickass like the Blade.
Confusion washes over him however, as he slowly continues to move his other leg over the bar of the railing, before staring over at the hero. Spectre seems equally as shocked, before repeating himself, “I said, stay where you are! Stop moving!”
Nothing changes.
Admittedly, Tommy had never been under mind control, so maybe it was working, but judging by the hero’s reaction, this wasn’t normal. Probably. Tommy even wiggles his fingers around, while he watches with intrigue. “Uhh, did your power break, or something, man?”
Still, nothing.
When Spectre eventually speaks, it comes out in a confused, horrified shout, as he gawks at the other, “What did you do?” Yes, like this was somehow his fault. It’s not his fault Tommy was just that good that he defied all forms of logic.
“Alrighty, uh, how about this,” This was getting awkward, staring contests were never Tommy’s strong suit, “I leave, you go get that checked out wherever heroes go, and we just… go on our merry little way.. yeah?”
That must’ve struck a chord, because the next thing he knows, Spectre’s grabbing onto his wrist and Tommy's trying to pull his arm away. Before he can, the hero has pulled the handcuffs from his belt, clicking one around his and the other’s wrist.
Sheesh, didn’t this guy know he was a minor?
“You’re not leaving until we figure- we figure this out, you hear me? I don’t know what you did, but we’re fixing this together, you little shit.” Spectre grits his teeth, his cheeks below his mask flushed with what Tommy could only assume is embarrassment.
Who wouldn’t be after being duped by a teenage vigilante who could barely control his powers. What a loser.
“Get offa’ me! I don’t know you, stranger danger, creep!” Tommy yells blindly while trying to shove Spectre away from him. The scuffle nearly knocks him off the edge of the roof, but he’s immediately pulled back by the hero.
Not like the threat of danger would be enough to stop the Tommy Innit anyways, as he keeps smacking at the hero, yanking on the cuffs.
Spectre grabs onto Tommy's forearm again, this time much tighter, as the hero glares at him, venom spitting from his tone as he growls, "You're just gonna make it worse for yourself, so shut it, you little wannabe hero."
A switch goes off in his brain, and it's as if Tommy's body moves before he can process it, just like before and he can’t go back and he’s not going back. The thrumming of electricity from before comes back tenfold, and like a trapped animal, he attacks back without thinking.
His hands are burning as Spectre howls in pain, Tommy wincing and shutting his eyes from the pain.
Then, silence.
Shit.
With hesitance, he peeks open an eye, only to be met with the slumped over body of Spectre, limp and unmoving against the railings.
“Oh shit, fuck, balls, piss— did I just kill him?” Tommy panics, staring horrified at the limp body of the hero. He climbs over the rail and scrambles towards him, crouching.
He glances between the still unconscious goon from earlier and the now motionless hero, and thank Prime there's no witnesses. Well, there was one, but he was now, y'know, either dead or just sleeping, Tommy couldn't really tell. "I'll be back for you, fucker." He promises, glaring at the attacker before focusing back on the matter at hand.
He couldn't just leave the hero there, considering the handcuff situation. Plus, even if they were off, Spectre could blabber to the Heroes Council about Tommy's lack of control of his powers, and that’s the worst case scenario.
So, he does the next best thing.
"Fucking- God, you're a lanky bitch. What do they feed you, asparagus?” Personally, Tommy hates asparagus, but he doesn’t say that, so as to not hurt the Spectre’s feelings if he is conscious. Scooping his arms under Spectre's limp legs and back, he steadies himself, and after a few rocky attempts, Tommy holds him in a semi stable grasp.
Now, Tommy could very easily just hop off the ledge, which had been his initial plan before this happened, he didn't fully trust himself to mimic Zephyr's powers at the moment, even if he had copied the avian's powers many times before.
Though it was that or dragging the body down the many, many stairs of Schlatt Industries, and risking looking more like a murderer. So, instead, Tommy shoves the attacker into the roof's closet, and turns back to the railings.
You got this, you're Tommy Innit, you're cracked, you're an epic poggers vigilante, the Blade wishes he was as cool as you.
After hyping himself up, Tommy takes a few steps back, then rushes forwards, hopping over the ledge. Whistling wind in his ears sings a familiar tune as he falls in the open air, holding Spectre tightly. The cold breeze rustles his hair like a warm welcome from an old friend and he goes through the motions automatically.
Unfolding from his back, his dark grey wings ruffle and stretch out, then he takes off, gliding towards the darkened streets of Logsted.
The trip back home was surprisingly fine, except a few odd looks but then again, the people of Logstedschire had their own code, to mind their business. It was something he grew up with.
More surprisingly, Tommy doesn't run into any more heroes on patrol. However, by the time he reaches his apartment, his arms are sore, so he does the only reasonable thing.
Tommy drags Spectre up the few flights of stairs, ignoring how his head thudded against each stair. After some time, the two arrive at his apartment, cracking open the door.
Ranboo probably wouldn't mind Tommy dragging home the potential corpse of a top hero— right?
"Tommy. Dude, c’mon, what the hell?"
Or
maybe
he would.