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Phil was blissfully asleep before his phone went off, rudely waking him up.
He groaned, not wanting to answer it. This was the only time he’d managed to grab any sleep for at least three days, after all.
He had to, though.
He sat up, hitting the button to answer the call.
“Syndicate sighting, just off Main Street.” Dream said curtly, before hanging up.
For all that Dream was amazing at keeping track of all the city’s villains, his interpersonal skills left much to be desired.
Phil sighed.
He really did not want to deal with this at- he glanced at his phone’s clock- four in the morning.
Unfortunately, it was his job.
(At least it got him out of his empty apartment.)
He shook out his wings, before turning to get ready.
The Syndicate were some of the worst villains in the city, none of the heroes able to capture them.
Phil, or rather Crow, was the only one who’d ever come close, managing to trap Siren and Fury before Blade had knocked him out.
He’d woken up to all three of them gone. His mask had still been firmly in place.
(Sometimes he wondered why they had left him, why they hadn’t tried to find out his identity.)
Now, he was always the one that got called whenever there was a sighting of the three. Or even just of one or two of them.
Which he almost preferred, considering that the other heroes tended to be reckless when they fought the Syndicate.
(That, and the Syndicate seemed to like him. Not that it mattered.)
Almost preferred, because it meant that he got almost no sleep, in between his regular work for the hero agency and the extra callouts.
Phil turned to his balcony, jumping out into the night air, his wings catching him as he flew over to Main Street.
This fight was going to suck, he could just tell.
\(oo)/
He was wrong about the fight sucking. Mostly because it didn’t seem like they were trying to fight him.
When he had shown up, the only one of the Syndicate there had been Fury, in his signature red hoodie and bandana mask. He had looked up at Phil, waved, and took off running, at speeds that would be impossible for a normal human to follow.
Good thing Phil’s wings allowed him to go much, much faster than he could on the ground.
Phil had given chase, tracking Fury through the city.
He had no clue where Siren and Blade may be, but it seemed unlikely that they would use Fury as bait while they did something else.
They hadn’t done that before, at least.
All the members of the Syndicate liked to be involved in whatever scheme they were working on.
So, Phil assumed that they were likely trying to lead him into a trap.
After all, they had tried this before on another hero, six months or so ago, trying to get her out of the way for the day before they tried to rob a company in her area of the city.
They hadn’t managed to succeed last time, so he wasn’t sure why they’d be trying it again.
They had still managed to steal chemicals from that company, which were then used in an attack a month later, so it wasn’t like actually trapping that hero would’ve helped them at all.
But, either way, he would rather know what the Syndicate were doing and where they were, so he was letting Fury lead him into whatever trap it was Siren and Blade had set up.
Fury turned a corner, darting into a warehouse.
Great.
Phil sighed as he dived down to the ground.
He hated it when he had to fight indoors.
Much less room for him to maneuver.
And a warehouse would give Blade and Siren a distinct advantage.
Siren’s voice would be easily echoed, and its location disguised by the large building.
And Phil was sure that there was plenty of metal for Blade to manipulate.
But, he still had to follow Fury, even knowing that he would be at a disadvantage.
His job was to capture them, after all.
He landed, tucking his wings against his back.
He cautiously pushed open the door, seeing that the warehouse was cloaked in shadow.
Good thing that his wings weren’t the only bird trait that he had.
His eyes adjusted, pupils dilating, allowing him to see that the warehouse was full of shipping containers, creating a veritable maze.
Lovely.
He couldn’t see Fury.
Or Siren and Blade, for that matter.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
He scanned the walls and ceiling.
It didn’t look like this place had any windows, so the door would be Phil’s only exit if he needed it.
He’d need to keep track of it.
Shouldn’t be hard, considering.
He snapped out his wings, flying to the top of one of the shipping containers.
The maze of shipping containers would only be a problem in that it would make it harder for him to find the Syndicate.
He scanned the sections of floor that he could see.
Nothing.
He flew to the next shipping container.
Nothing.
By the time he’d made it halfway across the warehouse, he was starting to get seriously annoyed.
What was the point of leading him here, and then not even bothering to fight him?
Usually, Fury would be after him the moment he showed up, Blade not far behind. Siren preferred being on the sidelines, distracting Phil with sonic attacks and his hypnotic voice.
(That aspect of his powers didn’t work so well if the target knew about it, but it was still plenty distracting when Siren started taunting Phil and telling him to do ridiculous things, usually so ridiculous that Phil had to stop himself from laughing.
Like that time Siren had called out in the middle of a fight telling Phil to ‘Kiss a fridge!’
It had taken him so much effort to avoid laughing.
Blade, who Phil had been dodging at that moment, had snorted in laughter.
So had Fury, who Phil hadn’t noticed had been sneaking up behind him.
It had been just enough warning for him to avoid Fury’s kick.
Sometimes, Phil really wondered if Siren had done that on purpose.
Making Blade and Fury laugh.
Giving Phil a little warning.
It was a ridiculous thought.
But the timing had been just a little too convenient.)
Phil huffed as he scanned yet another section of the warehouse, still seeing nothing.
Where the heck could they be?
His answer came a moment later, a shift in the air alerting him just in time to dodge a sword.
Blade.
The man stared, his pig mask hiding all aspects of his expression, wisps of pink hair peeking out around it. As usual, he had his red cape draped around his shoulders, his crown firmly on his head, and his sword held at his side, ready to attack.
“Hello, Crow.”
Phil backed away, his guard firmly up, falling into a defensive stance.
“Blade. Care to fill me in on where Siren and Fury have gone?”
Blade tilted his head.
“No.”
He sprung forward, his sword aimed at Phil’s legs.
Phil unfurled his wings, taking off into the air with a flap, easily dodging the sword.
Of course, that was when Fury jumped onto his back, sending him careening towards the far-off floor.
Phil grunted, trying to grab at Fury to get him to let go.
Fury batted away his hands, still clinging onto Phil as they fell.
When they were barely ten feet from the ground, Fury jumped off, the sudden shift in weight making it so Phil was only barely able to avoid crashing to the ground, sweeping his wings in front of him to cushion his landing with a burst of air.
He managed to land on his feet with a small stumble, looking around for the Syndicate.
He couldn’t see where Fury had dashed off to, and all he saw of Blade was a swish of red fabric on top of the shipping container, before he disappeared from Phil’s view.
And he still had no clue where Siren was.
That was not good.
He brought his wings around in front of him, examining them for injuries.
It looked like Fury landing on them had only broken a few small feathers, miraculously.
Phil sighed, glancing up at the ceiling.
Guess he was going to have to stay on the ground, at least until he had Fury in his sights again.
Phil was not eager to repeat the experience and test his luck again.
He started to walk in the direction that he hoped Fury had gone.
He only made it a few steps before he realized something.
He was completely cut off from the door.
There was no way for him to get back there quickly, not without risking another surprise attack by Fury.
Damn it.
There was nothing he could do about it, though.
He kept walking.
As he walked, he realized that Fury had been acting odd.
Usually, he couldn’t help but chatter at Phil, taunting him and just talking about random things, seemingly never able to be quiet for long.
But he had been silent today.
Strange.
As he turned the corner, Phil began to hear someone humming.
Siren.
Well, at least it sounded like it wasn’t echoing.
Small mercies.
It only took a few more turns until Phil saw him.
Siren stood there, wearing his usual trench coat and domino mask.
His humming cut off when he caught sight of Phil, a wide smile overtaking his face.
It was a genuine smile, throwing Phil off.
Usually, Siren’s smiles were mocking, or cruel, or tinged with madness.
The only time he’d ever seen a genuine, kind smile on Siren before this moment was when the man was looking at Fury or Blade.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, having that look directed at him.
(Phil wasn’t sure when the last time someone had smiled at him, genuinely, had been. Maybe when he had helped those civilians a month ago?)
“Hey Crow. Why don’t we chat, for a little bit?” Siren said.
It didn’t even sound like he was threatening Phil.
It seemed like a genuine offer.
(Phil was almost glad that Blade had been acting just the same as he always did, trying to stab Phil the moment he saw him. Siren and Fury’s behavior was different, and it was messing with Phil.)
“How about we don’t.” Phil said, shifting slightly backwards, ready to throw himself forward to tackle Siren.
Siren sighed, before taking a step forward.
“You know Crow, I’ve noticed something about you, in the year you’ve been fighting us.”
Phil tensed, ready to defend himself if Siren attacked.
(Sometimes he forgot just how new the Syndicate was, for how much of a threat they were.)
(They had only been operating for six months before he was assigned as the main hero trying to capture them.)
“Oh?”
Siren leaned forward, a glint in his eyes.
“You’re lonely.”
Phil blinked.
What?
How did he know that?
(Phil didn’t bother denying it. He was lonely. He hated his empty apartment, hated that hero work kept him too busy to make any friends.)
(But how did Siren know that?)
“What do you mean by that, Siren?” Phil spat, trying to make Siren back off.
Siren smiled, this one the mocking smile that Phil was familiar with.
He ignored the question, continuing like Phil hadn’t spoken at all.
“You can’t stand your empty apartment, can’t stand your lack of friends, can you,”
A pause, a cruel tint to the smile. And something in his eyes, an almost giddy look.
“Phil?”
He stumbled back.
They knew his identity.
How did they know his identity-?
It hit him.
When he had almost captured them-
His mask had still been on, so he’d just assumed they hadn’t bothered to find out who he was.
Oh gods, he was stupid.
They must’ve just slipped the mask back on, after finding out who he was.
They had known this whole time.
For the last year.
Why hadn’t they done anything with it sooner?
Phil felt metal wrap around his legs, and realized that he hadn’t been paying enough attention to his surroundings, the reveal that the Syndicate knew his identity throwing him off his game.
He looked down, seeing pieces of metal wrapped around his legs, probably pulled off the nearby shipping containers.
He knew that it would be pointless to try to get out of his bonds, considering how much metal was around him for Blade to make more from.
He was screwed.
Blade walked past Phil, going to stand next to Siren.
It only took a moment for Fury to join them, darting out of the shadows behind Siren.
Siren smiled, another genuine one.
“Don’t worry, Phil.”
Siren’s smile was mirrored by Fury, who tugged down his mask so that Phil could see his face.
What the hell?
Why would he-
Was that a kid?
Phil stood there, looking at Fury.
He couldn’t be older than 18.
Why had he taken off his mask?
And also, why was a kid one of the city’s most feared supervillains?
Wait-
Phil had thrown Fury into a wall two months ago.
He suddenly felt bad about that, even though at the time Fury had been attempting to kill one of the other heroes who had arrived on the scene of the attack.
(The Syndicate had never tried to kill Phil, only other heroes.)
(Had that been because they knew his identity?)
(Why would that make them spare him?)
Phil shook his head.
Okay.
Just because Fury was a teenager, didn’t mean that Phil had to feel guilty about fighting him.
And again-
Why had Fury taken off his mask?
Phil realized that he’d missed something, too caught up in his thoughts.
Siren was looking at Fury with an exasperated expression, though there was fondness there too.
Fury was pouting.
“You said I could show him!”
Siren sighed.
“I meant later, after we got him home. You knew that.”
Fury pulled back up his mask, crossing his arms.
Siren rolled his eyes, before turning back to Phil.
“Well, guess that’s out of the bag.”
He sounded amused.
“Like I was saying, you don’t need to worry, Phil.”
He started to walk forward, bringing something out of a pocket in his coat.
It was a syringe.
“After all,”
More metal wrapped around Phil, covering him up to his shoulders.
“You won’t have to worry about being alone anymore.”
Siren stepped up to Phil, bringing the syringe to his neck.
He pushed the needle into Phil’s flesh. Phil tried to move away, but the metal wrapped around him held him in place.
“See you when you wake up, Dad.”
Phil’s eyes widened in shock, before the world went black as the syringe’s contents were emptied into his veins.
\(oo)/
Phil woke up with a headache.
What had happened?
He tried to bring his hand to rub at his forehead, but something stopped him.
Oh.
He was handcuffed to the bed.
Wait-
Why was he handcuffed-
The memories of the ‘fight’, if it could even be called that, with the Syndicate slammed into his brain.
Well.
That at least explained why he was handcuffed.
He took a moment to look around the room he was in, seeing that it just looked like a normal room.
There was a bookshelf along one wall, a desk along another.
The walls were painted a deep green, similar to the colors used in his hero costume.
Phil realized something with that thought.
He was still wearing his hero costume, the green cloak pooled around him.
He wasn’t wearing his beaked mask, however.
Of course he wasn’t, they already knew his identity, what was the point?
Phil frowned as he thought back to the last thing Siren had said.
What the actual hell did that mean?
Phil certainly wasn’t Siren’s dad.
Why had he called him that?
The door to the room opened, Phil’s head whipping towards the sound.
“Oh. You’re awake.”
A man stood there, pink hair pulled back in a braid. His voice was monotone, but his red eyes seemed to be full of joy.
Blade had pink hair.
“Blade. What is this?” Phil said, a threat in his voice.
Blade cringed, an extremely odd movement on the usually confident villain.
“It’s Techno. That’s my actual name.”
Why the fuck would Blade, Techno, tell Phil his identity?
Phil snarled, his face twisting in rage.
“What the fuck is happening.”
Techno looked at him blankly.
He turned away from Phil.
“Wilbur! Tommy! He’s up!”
Phil could hear two sets of footsteps running towards the door.
A man with brown hair shoved past Techno, the kid, Fury, not far behind.
Fury took a step towards Phil, but stopped when the brown haired man held out a hand.
“Tommy, give him a moment.”
Fury, Tommy, pouted.
“But Wil! You said that I could-“
Siren, it had to be, or Wilbur Phil guessed, rolled his eyes.
“In a moment.”
Tommy stepped back, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
At least that was normal, Fury was always energetic.
Nothing else about this was.
The Syndicate knew his identity.
They had just told him all of their identities.
Wilbur looked towards Phil, a lopsided smile on his face.
“Hey Dad. Glad you’re up, I was getting worried that I used too much of the sedative.”
Phil glared at him.
“Stop calling me that. I’m not your dad.”
Wilbur grinned, an amused look on his face.
“Oh, but you are. Mine and my brothers, of course.” He gestured to Tommy and Techno.
The Syndicate being brothers made sense, at least. They had always seemed close, in a way that spoke of a deeper bond than just accomplices.
Phil was pretty sure the only reason he even thought about that in this moment was to avoid having a mental breakdown.
He stared at Wilbur, not even knowing what to say in response to that.
Techno sighed, walking over to stand by the bed.
“I told you this was a bad idea, Wil.”
Wilbur rolled his eyes.
“He just needs a bit to adjust, don’t worry about it.”
Tommy looked at Wilbur, who nodded.
He beamed, running over to Phil, just slightly faster than a normal teenager would be able to.
He reached out, taking Phil’s hand, which was still handcuffed to the bed.
“I’m really happy you’re home, Dad.”
He sounded horribly genuine.
Phil tried to pull away from the touch, but he was still weak from the sedative.
Techno’s eyes seemed to soften at his brother’s happiness.
“Maybe this was a good idea.”
Wilbur beamed.
“See, I told you!”
Phil looked between the three of them.
What the hell kind of situation had he just found himself in?
And how would he get out of it?
He had to get out.
Right?
(He wouldn’t get out.)
(In fact, he wouldn’t want to, after a few months.)
(He loved his sons, after all.)