Chapter Text
Tommy has never been to a bank before.
...
He decides he hates it.
The floor is unnaturally clean. Like, Tommy could eat off this floor, he’d be able to pour dirty water on this floor and all the dirt would immediately evaporate. How’d they even manage that?
Tommy is brought of of his musings by a sharp cough from his newest foster father, Darryl, who wore a permanent scowl on his otherwise perfect face.
Tommy resists the urge to roll his eyes, that just wouldn’t end well for him. Tommy dutifully steps forward, pulling on the mask of a posh little princeling.
...
There's a huge fucking fountain outside the bank.
It's not even a cool fountain either. A while back, Tommy had these foster parents, Sam and Ponk, that would occasionally take him out to this chinese buffet place that had an awesome fountain that they would always throw a coin into for good luck. Puffy's, if he remembered correctly. Tommy missed Sam and Ponk. They were much better than his current foster parents.
Money, in Tommy's humble and entirely correct opinion, made everything worse. Now, don’t get Tommy wrong, he’s loving the lavish life he’s currently living, he just feels so out of place in this bank.
His newest foster mother, Linda, dug her stupidly sharp nails into his shoulder.
"Come along, honey," She crooned, saccharine and perfect. Like she actually gave a shit about him. If her husband was perfect, Linda was practically plastic. Her long blonde hair fell into perfect curls, her make up was carefully applied. Even her steps were perfectly measured to be quick, yet dainty.
Tommy felt almost clunky as her followed after her..
He fit in visually, at least. Darryl’s height and build and Linda’s blonde hair and blue eyes, a perfectly tailored suit that obscured a war zone of fresh bruises and aged scars.
Only he doesn't actually fit in. He's like this ugly duckling or some shit, or a cuckoo chick. He was Tommy, the homeless orphan avian. Not the son of a pair of upperclass dicks from fucking Wall Street, He hated these people and this house.
They wanted wanted a perfect darling boy that would make them look good and follow their every order. They got Tommy instead.
Another point for Tommy’s money makes bullshit argument is that in his poorer foster homes, he could just be gone and his caretakers wouldn’t ever notice. These rich pricks had so many stupid rules and times of day that he had to be there for. Private lessons on how to properly socialize and random history that he’ll never have use for, being grilled in to recognize who is from which family and had connections to who. Darryl seemed certain, if reluctant, that Tommy would inherit his business. Darryl was a “well-known” lawyer. Tommy had no interest in that.
And of course, broken rules come with disproportionate consequences. Which would be the reason for the thick concealer hiding a large bruise of his face and the twisted ankle and the bruised ribs.
Maybe it's all that pain that makes the bank feel terrible, but Tommy was pretty willing to bet that this would be a shitty experience anyways. Even if he wasn't aching all over, he'd still hate the place. Money did that to things. Covers a rotten soul with a string of pretty pearls.
He wonders how long he has to wait until they could leave. This bank, this house, this stupid fucking town full of rich bastards who are pretty and perfect on the outside.
Tommy's a piece of shit too, don't get him wrong, but at least he didn't hit kids and pretend to be a saint.
Linda’s nails dug further into his skin.
"Keep up, sweetheart, you're lagging and we need to keep up with your father."
That's another thing, the bastards insist on calling themselves his actual parents, even at the house. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. As if these jerks would ever be enough to be his flock. Fat fucking chance.
"He's not my dad." Tommy mutters, unable to help himself with the words of defiance.
A high heeled shoe twists into his path as he takes a step forward. There was no avoiding or dodging it. He yelps as he trips, barely holding in a distressed chirp as he crashes to his hands and knees, not helping his ankle or ribs at all.
"Oh, be careful darling." She crooned, "Are you alright?"
Linda stands over him, eyes glinting. They were so similar to his own, only a shade off, but so much colder.
"Yeah, fine." Tommy muttered, baring himself as he hauled himself back to his feet, wincing at the pain of the movement. Darryl had put in a bit too much force when trpping him the other day and his ankle hadn't had any time to heal.
Shadows move from beyond the frosted glass of the bank’s fancy doors, indicating that someone new was about to enter the building. Tommy looks over, wondering what rich fuck would walk in next.
There are three men entering the bank. They're dressed in suits and carrying briefcases, like every other guy there. Tommy rolled his eyes and looked towards the slowly approaching teller’s desk.
Turns out those weren’t briefcases, they were fucking guns.
“On the ground!” The guy in the lead shouted as he shot at the ceiling, making everyone hit the deck. The few who froze quickly followed when the guy shot again. He was a big guy too, built like a fucking mountain and the envy of every would-be professional quarterback who got injured in high school.
The men fan out through the lobby. Tommy cam see the tall, lanky one lingering at the doors, messing with them. Tommy didn’t really care what that guy was doing since he was the least of a threat at the moment.
Quarterback guy is at the front, sweeping his gaze over the crowd of cowering rich people, his gun poised to shoot at any given moment. The dude turns to face the direction where Tommy laid, letting him get a goos look at the mask the man wore. It was a fucking pig.
Well, not really a pig. Tommy was once fostered by farmers, he knows what pigs look like. The mask this dude wore was more like a wild boar, with wicked tusks and a snarling maw.
The one meddling with the door was some kind of canine, maybe a fox or a wolf, Tommy isn't sure. The last one, he’s shorter than his partners, is a bird. Something dark like a crow or raven. He terrifies Tommy the most. His stupid brid instincts were telling him that the man was a real crow, a predator that had a habit of going after sparrows like himself. His body is locked up, his wings trying to puff up under his bindings to make him look bigger and scare the threat away.
Crow comes to a stop in the middle of the room, Pig keeps prowling around, and Wolf finishes whatever he was doing to the doors and joined his partners.
Everyone was holding their breath as they stared at Crow. He was obviously dangerous, if he could invoke that kind of reaction. The man may be small but the sheer size and intimation that radiated from him more than made up for that.
“Well,” Crow says, and holy shit this guy is mega fucking dangerous-
Everyone was on the floor, watching him, waiting for what he'll do.
"You all know who we are-" Except Tommy very much didn't know who these bitches were- "You know what we want. Give it to us and we won't be here long." Crow says, "Does that sound good to eveyone?"
There's a muffled sob from somewhere behind a desk. Linda was trembling beside him, shaking like leaf and almost using him as a shield. Darryl is glaring at the robbers-- because what else could they be? really aggressive investors?-- like he wants to tackle them, like he could tackle them. Dumbass.
Alarms go off, ringing sharply in his ears. Tommy flinches, a few people scream. The light go dim and there's a horrible screeching sound as thick metal sheets fall over the doors and windows. The metal slams into the ground and the bank is silent and oh so tense.
There's a growl from Pig and a commotion from behind the teller's desk. A woman is dragged out from behind the desk, screaming and sobbing as she thrashes in Pig’s hold but he barely seems to acknowledge her struggles.
"She hit the panic button." Pig growls, throwing her at Crow’s feet.
Crow bends down to look the teller in the eyes.
Crow remain silent for a moment, only letting out a small ‘tsk’ of disappointment that cuts through the lobby louder than the gunshots. The teller is staring, terrified, up at Crow as she waits for his retaliation. Tommy watches too, they're all watching, waiting to see what Crow will do. Will he kill her? Beat her? He rasies a hand that Tommy can now see is adorned with heavy rings and back hands her, sending the woman to the ground and knocking her probably-too-expensive glasses clattering across the floor. She stays down, silently shaking on the floor as she curls up into a ball.
Crow sighs, "Guess we'll have to do this the hard way then."
Wolf and Pig nod, their body language tense and almost resigned. Crow shifts, standing up straight. If he's going to kill her, it'll be now. Tommy squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into the cold marble as best he could. He tenses, waiting for the firing of a gun.
"Everyone. Against the wall." Pig barks, instead.
Tommy looks up. Pig has dragged the teller over to the far wall. She's still crying but her glasses are back on now and she's not dead. Either they're letting her live or they're all going with her.
"That wasn't a suggestion." Wolf snarled, taking a menacing step towards them.
Linda whimpers and scrambles back, grabbing her husband and pulling him with her. The rest of the people follow her lead. Tommy knows he needs to move too.
Move. He frantically orders his limbs, tears starting to form in his eyes. He has to move. He has to cooperate.
He can't. He can't make himself so much as twitch. His instincts are still screeching that he has to stay still, if he's still enough the predators won't be able to see him and he'll be safe but he's not safe because they can still see him and oh god he's gonna die-
Tommy feels outside of himself as he watches Wolf stalk closer, staring him down like a real predator. And Tommy knows how helpless feels, it’s an emotion that he’s well aquatinted with but he has never felt so utterly useless in his life. His heart is jack-rabbiting as Wolf is close enough to stare down at Tommy. Wolf glances over at Tommy’s foster parents. Tommy knows they won’t do anything, he’s not worth it to them, he’s just an accessory to them.
Tommy chokes back a mixture of a sob and a distressed, pained cheep but half of it escapes out of his chest anyway. He can practically feel all their gazes snapping to him at the sound. Wolf crouches over him and Tommy squeezes his eyes shut.
"Come on, kid," Wolf said softly, "To the wall."
A hand nudges his shoulder and Tommy flinches away with a hiss of pain. The touch finally has his instincts acknowledging that simply freezing up will only up his chances of getting killed. He scrambles away and Wolf lets him. Tommy watches him carefully until his back hits the wall. The person next to Darryl apparently scooted over to let him get in. That was nice of them, Tommy dimly notes. His foster parents hardly register his presence, glancing at him briefly but that's it.
Wolf tilts his head again, but he finally turns away. Wolf walkes over to his partners where the three converse in low tones, occasionally glancing over at the hostages. (They're looking at him but it's less scary to think they're looking at all of them so that's what he choses to believe.)
What felt like an eternity passed as the men paced up and down the wall, keeping an eye on them. Tommy could feel Darryl tense further each time one of them passed. Tommy made a quick glance over to see a familiar mounting fury on the man's face. At this point, all they'd have to do is make eye contact and Darryl would blow up. Tommy shifted nervously as Pig approached, stopping practically in front of them to talk to Crow. Tommy felt his foster father tense even further (seriously, this dude needs to relax). And, boy, if looks could kill, they'd be out of this situation already.
Then, like the total idiot he is, he lunges forward, making to tackle Pig. Which, that in and of itself was so incredibly stupid, the guy was built like a fucking tank. Tommy was quick to spring up, grabbing Darryl and hauling him back. Pig, Crow, and Wolf had trained their guns on the man the second he had moved. Now he was fighting in Tommy's grip, landing another blow to his bruised ribs, making Tommy groan in pain.
"Let him go." Crow says. Tommy released his fuming foster father who sent a glare over shoulder that promised a beating the second they got out of here. The man stood tall, strightening out his suit jacket while clearing his throat. Tommy could practically feel the anxiety raditaing off the other people.
"Kneel." Crow demanded, gesturing with his gun.
"Darryl." Linda hissed when her husband made no moe to follow the order. Wolf came around, shoving Darryl to the floor. Crow pressed the muzzle of his gun to his forehead.
"You've got balls." Crow chuckled, Tommy saw Darryl's fists clench, "Does he get this angry often?" The question was directed to Tommy but his foster mother jumped in.
"No! No, sir." She smiled weakly. Crow didn't acknowledge her, still turned to Tommy. He nodded slowly.
"Oh, don't listen to him." Darryl spat, "He's just an ungrateful brat."
"Watch it." Wolf snarled. Darryl shut up. Crow crouched down, still holding his gun to Darryl's head.
"Tell me, what were you hoping to achieve with that little stunt, hm?" He wasn't even given the chance to respond, "Whatever." Crow turned to Pig, "You want him? He was going for you, after all."
Pig tilts his head as if considering the offer, "Sure." He said with a shrug.
Crow backed away but Pig took his place before Darryl could commit any more acts of heroism. It suddenly occured to Tommy that Darryl was about to die. His wife, Linda if he remembered correctly, was going to be a widow. He couldn't bring himself to care. Neither of them were good parents or good people. Tommy watched, detached yet captivated, as Pig his gun to Darryl's head. Linda was crying but it sounded so far away. Time seemed to slow as Pig's finger squeezed the trigger.
BANG
A flash of something warm splattering across his face, an intense coppery smell consumed his senses and all Tommy could see was redRedRED-
He could hear the screaming, the crying, but he couldn't look away. His eyes were fixated on Darryl's corpse, almost facinated with how the bullet tore a gaping hole into the flesh. The pool of blood grew, creeping closer to Tommy's shoes. It would ruin the leather but Tommy didn't shrink back, letting the liquid soak into his shoes.
He looked up, metting Pig's eyes through the holes of his mask.Pig looked away after a moment and soon the three were talking in hushed tones.
They broke apart after a few minutes, Crow grabbing glasses lady and Wolf tugged Tommy to his feet. Cold metal was pushed to his temple as Wolf pushed him to walk forward. They were led to the back of the bank where a ridiculously large safe stood. Glasses lady was pushed forward.
"Open it." Crow demanded. She hesitated but Wolf pressed the gun closer to Tommy's head.
"Now." He growled.
She was trembling violently as her hands fumbled with her access card, nearly dropping it several times as she tried to swipe it. She got it eventually though, the red light flashing green with a loud beep as the door swung open. Crow stepped into the safe. still dragging glasses lady with him.
"If you would be so kind as to lead me to this box." He handed the woman a slip of paper. She took a look at it and nodded, leading Crow further into the safe. Wolf and Tommy lingered in the doorway. After a moment of tense silence, Wolf spoke up.
"What's your name kid?" Tommy glanced up at the snarling wolf mask. It was completely clean, not a drop of red despite how Darryl. Tommy could feel the blood splatter drying on his face, becoming sticky and uncomfortable.
"...Tommy." He finally said after a long moment of just staring at the man. The hand that was on his shoulder, keeping him in place, squeezed lightly.
"Tommy." Wolf repeated to himself, almost savoring each syllable as they rolled off his tongue, "Well, Tommy, when we go back out to the front, you'll stay with Zephyr, Protesilaus, and I, alright?"
Wolf probably didn't actually need Tommy to agree but he nodded anyway. There was a loud, now familiar, bang that echoed horribly against the metal of the safe. The sound grated of Tommy's sensitive hearing, making him clap his hands over his ears as he winced and stumbled a bit. Wolf steadied him, leaning Tommy against his side. Crow reemerged from the rows of metal, a splatter of blood on his suit and a flash drive in hand, but he was alone.
"Zephyr." Wolf said, sounding somewhat amused.
"Lupus." Crow- well, Zephyr he supposed- returned with a lsight incline of his head. Zephyr turned his gaze to where Tommy was pressed against Lupus' side which made him tense and press further into the robber's coat. Zephyr said nothing at that, simply brushing past the two and back into the bank lobby. Lupus followed, pulling Tommy with him. Pig- Protesilaus- greeted Lupus with a curt nod and a squeeze of the shoulder. Lupus let go of Tommy's arm and walked over to go speak to Zephyr but Tommy stayed where he was, ignoring Linda's beckoning.
"Thomas." She hissed, attempting to be quiet but the sound of her voice was amplified in the high, vaulted ceiling and drew the robbers' attention.
Lupus walked back over, slinging an arm over Tommy' shoulder casually. The contact had Tommy biting back a hiss of pain, the added pressure adding more strain on his injuries. Linda glared at the robber, just as anger prone as her husband was. Lupus nudged Darryl's corpse with his foot.
"This your husband?" He asked, mockingly.
"Don't fucking touch him!" She snarled, lunging at them. Lupus would have been able to side step the attack if he wasn't leaning on Tommy. There was a loud thump as they hit the ground, Tommy letting out a high, distressed trill. Linda starting punching Lupus as Tommy curled up on the floor, cradling his ribs and trying to regainhis bearings.
Protesilaus pulled Linda off his partner and flung her into the wall before he kneeled to check on Lupus. The two talked in low voices, Protesilaus' hands hovering over Lupus like he wanted to touch the man to make sure he was really okay. Zephyr stood next to Tommy's prone form but the robber was glaring Linda down.
She was as stupid as her husband because she was glaring right back.
"You already killed my husband." She spat, "You're not going to kill my... son too." Tommy gave a wheezing laugh at her hesitation.
"What's so funny, mate?" Zephyr asked, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on Tommy's side. It was warm. Soft in a way that Tommy had always craved. He dispelled the thought from his mind as he struggled to sit up.
"I'm- ow, fuck- I'm not her son." He said, feeling a slightly crazed smiled spread across his face, "I'm a fucking foster."
His face was taken into Zephyr's hands, a thumb brushing just under his makeup-covered bruise. All Tommy could see was the bright blue staring back to him. The exact same shade as his...
Zephyr used the sleeve of his suit to gently wipe away what makeup he could, slowly revealling the darkened flesh. Tommy let him, dangerously close to leaning into the man's touch. He winced when Zephyr pressed a little too hard, hissing an instinctive StopStopStopOwThatHurts.
His heart froze when Zephyr cooed back a SorryLittleOneSorry.
Oh no.