Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   It’s a dark and cloudy day- well not really. It’s just night, and the ‘clouds’ in the sky are more of just pollution in the upper districts. Tommy hasn’t left the upper districts since he was five. When he got his power. When he first started training. That’s actually what he’s doing now, actually.

   He ducks, dodging his mentor’s fist.

   He’s been Dream’s sidekick for three years. He has to train, since his power isn’t really for fighting. Tommy is a healer, but that doesn’t mean he can just stay on the sidelines. At least that’s what Dream says. He was originally trained to be a healer until he became Dream’s sidekick. Dream saw Tommy’s potential and from there came Red Chaos. He has even fought some of the top tier villains!

   “Good work, Tommy. You’re dismissed.” Dream says, holding his hands behind his back. Tommy walks back to his small room and finally takes off the frowny mask. His mask is made to look like Dream’s in a sense.

   Dream’s mask is white with a simple black smiley face painted on it. Tommy’s mask is black with a simple white frowny face painted on it. He lays back on his bed, arms spread and lightly kicking his feet. He’s lucky to be given the chance to protect people under the number one hero. That’s what everyone says at least.

…

   Tommy is eating breakfast out of costume at the mall when he gets an alert on his phone, causing his wings to slightly puff up at the sound.

!!VILLAIN / HERO FIGHT ON ## STREET!!

   Shit. He quickly wraps his food up and puts it in his bag. Clutching his backpack close, he rushes to the bathroom. The avian digs through his backpack and takes out his costume. He gets changed into it and wiggles his wings into the costume.

   His costume is a black bodysuit with a red hoodie on top. Almost exactly like Dream’s, except Dream’s has a green hoodie and no wings. Tommy’s bodysuit is made for avians so it has wing shaped pockets in the back to allow avians to fly without getting their wings cold. People do theorize about what color Tommy’s wings are under the black fabric that surrounds them.

   He puts his mask on, making sure it’s secure, and puts his earpieces in. One is communication, the other is for canceling out Siren’s power. He presses against a tile a few times, copying the beat of his heart. The wall tile comes out. There are a few of these among the upper districts for heroes in a hurry to get to a fight. He shoves his backpack in the storage spot, quickly closing it and sneaking out the small bathroom window. As he makes his way out, he presses on a button under his mask to activate the voice changer.

   Thankfully, the fight isn’t happening too far from the mall. When he’s close, his earpiece buzzes as it connects to the surrounding heroes’ ones. Dream’s voice comes through the small device, “Red Chaos, you got Siren.” Tommy doesn’t bother responding, knowing that would only distract his mentor.

   The young hero just finds Siren and quickly throws a punch from behind. The villain stumbles forward slightly before turning around to face the attacker. “Oh. Hello, copybird.” Siren greets, taking out a throwing dagger. The blond doesn’t respond. He already got a lecture on the last battle for talking during a fight.

   Red Chaos manages to dodge a few daggers, catching some by the handle midair and launching them back to the sender. Obviously some manage to scrape him. He’ll just need some more training. He hears the flap of wings and ducks, feeling a dagger embed itself in his leg while he’s dodging the villain who swooped down. The Angel of Death. His taloned hands almost grab the hero by the shoulder, but only manage to grab his earbuds instead.

   “Fly to district 48.” The commanding voice of Siren rings out, melodic and as sweet as poisoned honey. The avian hybrid immediately stops and, as if he was a puppet, flaps his wings. No matter how much he tries, he can’t stop himself from flying.

…

   After around two hours of flying, he swoops down, landing roughly. Damnit. He tries to flap his wings to fly back, but a horrible pain shoots up his wings to his spine. Two hours of training does tend to do that. He tries flapping them more, but he’s unable to take off. He can’t just power through this, not this time at least. Dream is going to be so pissed when he gets back. You may be asking, ‘Why doesn’t Tommy just heal himself?’, well he can’t. His wounds may get better a tiny bit faster, but he can’t heal himself.

   Tommy slowly gets up, wincing at the pain in his lower leg. The dagger is still in his leg. He freezes when he hears footsteps approaching and quickly looks up to see two low ranked villains. They rarely ever appear.

   Ender. He only shows up to teleport an injured member of the Syndicate a bit away. Teleporting isn’t his power, but some enderian hybrids are born with the ability to do so. Their power is that they can make someone freeze by making eye contact, whether it be through their goggles or a camera. As long as someone sees the faint purple glow, he can make them freeze.

   Ender’s costume is just a pitch black bodysuit that covers every part of their face, minus their eyes. He has purple tinted goggles on to make it difficult to know whether he’s using his power or not and to obscure how his eyes look. His enderian tail is like a very thin black string with a ball of black-white fur. His ears are either pitchblack or something. Like Tommy’s wings, they have their ears out but covered in fabric. He’s also a tall motherfucker, also due to being an enderian.

   Bombee. He usually just teleports into fights with Ender’s help to deliver some tech that he made and immediately leaves. He sometimes has had to use his power to escape heroes. His power is explosions. He can make explosions with only his hands.

   Bombee’s costume consists of a green button up over some bullet proof undersuit, a winter jacket (that he sometimes doesn’t wear when it’s too warm outside. Lucky ), and classic black pants. He has medium brown hair, not hidden by his mask. He wears a gas mask, painted like a bee. He has two little ram horns sticking up from his hair along with two brown ram ears on the sides of his head. He is shorter than Ender by a noticeable difference and a few inches shorter than Tommy.

   Tommy shakes his head and puts his fists up. “We’re unarmed.” Ender says, the two of them pausing and putting their hands up. The hero doesn’t lower his fists, simply replying with, “And? You’re still villains.” He notices a small glow from Ender’s goggles and feels his limbs go rigid. Shit.

   “Bee, what should we do?” The tall bitch asks, keeping eye contact with Tommy. Or at least not moving his head. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do when we’re at a standstill with an injured high rank.” His friend replies, walking closer to Tommy.

   Fuck. He can’t let any villain unmask him. Even before he started working under Dream, they told him to never let anyone see his face as a healer. Thankfully, the villain doesn’t reach for it. Instead, Bombee kneels and pulls the knife out. Motherfucker! If he could move right now, he’d have many different words for the two. To Tommy’s surprise, a green cloth was secured around the stab wound. “If I look away, will you attack us?” The enderian asks, walking closer. “Fine.” The blond mumbles, feeling the bitch’s power return. Sometimes Dream has had to make deals with villains to make sure he doesn’t die, so he hopefully won’t be too upset at Tommy for not arresting them.

   After a mile of walking with the villains, the two insisting on coming along to make sure he doesn’t fall with the wounded leg. When they get to a place with more people, he expects the normal he gets when walking in his costume in the upper districts. Instead, he gets either dirty looks or just completely ignored. A lot of people in this area are poor, and Tommy can’t see any signs of heroes. Maybe they all had to go to help with the fight? But that should have ended by now. Along with that, it doesn’t explain the glares.

   Tommy finally speaks up, looking between the two, “Why are they so upset with me? I’m a hero. Where are the other heroes too?” This causes the two villains to pause and look at each other. “They probably think you’re here to arrest a vigilante. Most heroes don’t come to these districts unless there is a vigilante.” Ender explains, as if it was obvious. “That’s why we’re part of the Syndicate. They saved us from getting arrested by Dream while we caught a mugger.” Bombee adds on, disdain in his voice when he says Tommy’s mentor’s name.

   That can’t be right. Crime is more likely here and there are enough heroes to spare and send here. People shouldn’t hate heroes. “But heroes are supposed to help everyone?” Tommy argues, glancing around. People really don’t seem to like him. Nobody here does. A little spider hybrid passes by and his mom pulls him closer as if protecting him from Tommy. 

Something is wrong.

…

   They make it there, traveling through alleyways to get there. The tall villain told Tommy it’s not that good to teleport people while they’re injured. “Cameras are broken so there is no point telling Dream.” Ender comments, putting their hands in their pockets. Tommy knows he should tell Dream. He knows it would be useful. But… Something feels off about his travel through the lower districts.

   When he enters the hero tower, Dream makes him train with dodging and shit. Dream apparently picked up his backpack for him at least. He goes to bed, bruised and exhausted. He’ll look into the lower districts- not that he doesn’t trust the system or his mentor. They’re doing good. They are helping people. Right…?

Chapter Text

   Tommy can’t stop thinking about his visit to the lower districts. So, during the weekend, he goes on a midnight walk in civilian clothes to the lower districts. He climbs some fire escape ladder when he reaches District 47 and sits on the rooftop, in hopes of seeing some hero on night patrol. But he gets distracted after a few minutes. The sky. He can see all the stars in this district.

   He is admiring the vast sea of stars and the moon when he hears the flap of wings. Turning around, he sees the fucking Angel of Death. Shit. Was he followed? “Hey, mate. Are you alright?” The winged villain asks, voice nothing like the cold tone he uses in fights. His eyes glance over the scars. Ah. He doesn’t know. That doesn’t explain the gentle tone.

   “You look tense. Are you doing something dangerous?” The villain sits next to Tommy, looking down at the bandages on his leg. “No. Just admiring the stars. I’m not used to seeing them this clearly.” The teen explains, looking back up. He has to make sure the villain is in the corner of his vision, just in case this is a trap. The older avian chuckles as he walks over and sits by the younger, and he says, “That makes sense. Usually people raised in these districts aren’t so tense around me.”

   Huh.

   He’s the most dangerous villain in Esempi. He has the third highest kill count. Wouldn’t most people be scared of him? “You seem confused. The News likes to villainize my sons and I.” The Angel of Death clarifies. Tommy looks back over at the other’s bird-like plague doctor mask. Tommy has fought him before. Of course the News will villainize a villain. “Yah, because you’re definitely not a villain.” The younger blond replies sarcastically, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

   “Depends on your definition of villain, mate. The hero system is messed up and the Syndicate just wants to take it down so a better one can be built.” The other explains, looking up. Tommy furrows his eyebrows and asks, “How is it messed up?” The older man shrugs, resting back on his palms. “Well, for starters, some of the minor heroes and healers are kids, the youngest I could find being five years old. I ’found’ some documents of the five year old having healing powers being brought to train as a healer. The rest of the kid’s records were wiped. Probably was a casualty of either a fight from the sidelines or of being overworked to the grave.” The villain rants, his fists slightly tensing and his voice has a hint of disgust. Ah, that’s where the last of Tommy’s records went. He remembers overhearing some of the trainers talking about it when he was taken up to be Dream’s sidekick.

   “It’s most five-year-old’s dream to help the heroes and Esempi.” The younger defends, not believing his own words. “That doesn’t mean they should be on the battlefield. Or be trained until they are 18. They don’t know what they are agreeing to at that age. They should be having a childhood. Imagine if you had to go out and fight some grown adult each week until you were burnt out.” The older counters, obviously oblivious to who he’s talking to. “What kind of childhood things would they be missing out on?” Tommy shouldn’t be having this conversation.

   He’s a hero. He is happy that he got chosen as a healer when he was five. He doesn’t care what he missed out on. Because it was an honor to be chosen. He has saved many people. Besides, healers are useful and can get really strong if trained early, so it was necessary to start training so young. Does he miss some people from his last group home? Yes, but that doesn’t matter. He protects them and so many other citizens. Does he sometimes dream of waking up to a happy family and a breakfast of eggs and bacon? Sure, but that doesn’t mean he’d rather have that. He probably wouldn’t have been adopted if they didn’t take him. They saved him from a life of being passed around from group homes to foster families. They gave him a purpose. Right?

   “Snow days, the normal school experience, movie nights, game nights, playing in the park, sleepovers, hanging out with friends, and other things like that.” The other lists off, turning his head to look back at the teenager. Tommy’s eyes definitely don’t tear up. Why would they? Tommy doesn’t need to experience those kinds of things. “You okay?” The Angel asks, concern evident in his voice. “Yah. I had a friend a few years back that randomly disappeared. Just thinking about if that’s what happened to them.” He lies, looking down.

   “It’s getting late. Do you want help getting back home?” The villain offers, standing up and stretching. “No thanks.” The hero mutters, also rising to his feet. He should report this, but what the Angel of Death said makes sense Dream would want to know why he came down here and he doesn’t have an excuse for him, and it won’t really help them catch the villains. No reason to mention where he went on a walk if asked.

…

   When Tommy gets back, Dream is by the door. He already changed into his hero costume before coming, so he doesn’t need to get ready. For whatever Dream needs him for. “Finally. You can’t disappear like that without telling someone where you went! You are so lucky that I don’t have time to lecture you right now.” His mentor rants, sounding pissed. That’s what Tommy forgot to do.

   The Warden is passing by when he pauses. The Warden is a tech hero, but he sometimes comes onto the battlefield. “He told me he was going on a walk.” The creeper hybrid lies. Dream sighs, before grabbing Tommy’s arm and bringing him to the elevator and into the medbay. There are about 13 heroes in the room, laying on the two rows of beds on either side of the room. Flame is sitting on one bed with bandages wrapped around his shoulder. Tommy doesn’t recognize the other injured heroes there.

   Without needing to be told, the young hero walks up to Flame and puts his hand on the fire hero’s injury. His hands glow orange and he begins healing. A numbing pain spreads to his shoulder, but he just keeps going. When healing people, he feels the same pain as the person he’s healing, but worse. He has gotten used to it though. He has 12 other heroes to get to anyways and he wants to finish before sunrise.

…

   He returns to his small room, his whole body sore. It feels like his conversation with Angel was forever ago, but he can’t stop thinking about it. Memories of seeing parents hold their kids close while behind the police tape during fights, of watching movies where the family is having a movie night, of playing with his two friends in the group homes that he somehow grew up with. He can’t even remember their names now. Then he starts imagining what could have happened if the hero system didn’t snatch him up.

   He pictured playing with the two, causing chaos as teenagers. Their faces are blurry, forgotten over the years. He does remember one of them was a ram hybrid with brown hair who loved bees. The other was an enderian hybrid with split black-white hair who was pretty tall for his age. He can’t stop the tears that fill his eyes. No matter what he thinks to justify it, it’s only things that others told him. He can’t come up with his own justification that feels right. 

More tears fill his eyes.

He could have had a family.

His mask feels too tight on his face.

He could have had his own, normal, civilian friends.

It’s hard to breathe.

He could have had his own life.

Holy shit, he can’t breathe.

He could have been able to be a kid.

Unconsciously, his hands grab his mask.

He’s the only five year old they took in.

He throws the mask, unable to hear the impact. He only hears static.

He didn’t have to get so many scars.

He starts just stomping on his mask, screaming.

He didn’t have to be tortured by Dream.

He can’t even process what he’s doing.

He doesn’t want any kids to go through what he did.

He starts to just claw shit up, that being the only way he could let out any emotions as a hero.

He doesn’t want to be a hero anymore! He wants to have a childhood.

He turns to rip the green bandana off of his bed frame, but pauses. Ender and Bombee.

He wants to make sure no kids go through what he has. Never again.

Chapter Text

   Tommy grabs his black mask, the material cracked. There are pieces missing from the bottom corner and the top corner, cracks through the frown and across the left eye. He grabs the bandana and ties it around his neck and puts the broken mask on. Thankfully, his adrenaline doesn’t decrease. Glancing around, he finally notices the mess. His sheets are ripped up, his pillow in pieces. Shit. That’s his que to leave. A small part of him is satisfied with destroying the cursed room.

   He looks at his fingers, his nails a bit more sharp. Part of being an avian is that their nails will eventually become sharper while developing. Guess the breakdown jump started that. The teen grabs his backpack quickly and makes sure no trackers are attached to it. He also removes the one in his hoodie.

   He looks at the small one way window near the ceiling, the glass broken. Huh, when did that happen. He’s squeezed through smaller windows before. He lands on his knees in some shards, his framed hero certificate on the ground. So that’s what he threw.

   He starts running, finding alleyways to travel through. It’s probably around four in the morning, so there is a high chance he won’t find them tonight. It’s still worth a shot, besides his adrenaline increase is still going strong.

…

   Tommy makes it to district 48, where he found them the first time he was down here. It only takes a few minutes before he sees the two. He limps over, some of the glass having gotten stuck in his now cut up knees. The two turn at the sound of rushed limping. “Red Chaos… Holy shit, Red Chaos!” Ender rushes forward, catching him. The hero’s adrenaline finally goes when he finally finds the two.

   “I don’t want to do this anymore.” He mutters, before promptly passing out.

…

   Tommy wakes up slowly, which is the first sign something is wrong. He’s also in a comfortable bed, the second sign. His head hurts, his eyes feeling dry and heavy, and his body feels like it was hit with a train. The third sign something is wrong is the faint voices coming from a different room. His room’s walls are soundproof, people just using the speakers in his room to tell him when they need him. His eyes blink open and he sits up, ignoring the shitloud of pain. His mask is off on the table, broken. He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in.

   Then he slowly starts remembering the previous night. He talked with the Angel of Death. He healed a lot of heroes. He returned to his room. And… He broke down. Shit. Dream is going to be so pissed- it doesn’t matter now, though. He can’t go back. Never again. He shouldn’t have run away. He shouldn’t have acted so dramatic. They helped him. He’s being selfish. No, no. He needed to get out. After he ran, where did he go?

   Purple. He remembers purple particles. There is only one enderian that Tommy has had a conversation with recently. The door opens and two teenagers walk in, looking close to Tommy’s age. The shorter one has brown hair and brown eyes, having ram features. The tall one is an enderian hybrid with split hair, one side of their hair is black with a green eye and the other is white with a red eye. Oh.

   “Red Chaos.” The enderian hybrid greets, glancing at some of his scars. “What did you mean when you said you ‘didn’t want to do this anymore’? What do you not want to do anymore?” The ram hybrid questions, standing next to his tall friend. “I was pretty  out of it, but I probably meant that I was done with fighting for Dream.” The hero ex-hero answers, studying their faces, and continues with one of the biggest movie cliches, “It’s a long story.”

   “Good thing we have time. Need water?” Bombee responds, looking unimpressed and sounding annoyed. Ender sighs and orders, “Your bandages need changed anyways too, so start talking.” The tall bitch teleports out in a flurry of purple particles and reappears a bit later with a medkit and a cup of water.

   “Well, I got my power when I was five in a group home. I was a late bloomer when it came to hybridity, but I guess not when it came to powers.” Tommy starts the rant, taking a sip of the water, “That’s when the hero system took me up. They erased all of my records. I was trained as a healer for a while, being allowed on the field when I was six. Then, I was 12 when Dream decided to make me his sidekick.”

   He turns his gaze down to the cup and continues the story, “And almost every record of me as a healer was destroyed, but one. One that I recently found out the Angel of Death took as proof they trained kids. It held no connection to my identity as Red Chaos. I came to visit the lower district a few days after we met to see if there would be any heroes. I had a conversation with the Angel of Death while in my civilian clothes and realized a few things about my ‘childhood’.”

   He chugs some more water and keeps going, “And I returned to the hero tower, only to be brought to the medbay to heal injured heroes. When I was done, I returned to my quarters and…” He pauses. He threw a tantrum. “And I got upset. Then, once semi-calm, I ran away through the window. I was sore and exhausted, yet pure adrenaline kept me running for hours until I found you two and… Well, you know. How long was I out for?”

   They are staring at him, Ender is now as still as a statue with one hand holding a cloth to one of his injured knees. “You were out for a day and a half.” Bombee answers, tapping his friend on the shoulder. “You should lay back.” Ender finally speaks, glancing at the brunette and getting back to cleaning and rebandaging his knees. “I’m fine.”

   The room is nice. It’s a fairly big room with a TV in front of the bed and the curtains drawn. Talking about the TV, a remote is placed in his hand. Huh. He flips to the News channel.

“Photos of Red Chaos’s room have now been released to the public a day after the hero’s disappearance. The Syndicate still are the top suspects. The room was destroyed, claw marks in basically everything. A few pieces of his mask were found against the opposite side of his room than his bed. Dream and the rest of the heroes are doing everything they can to find him, but no evidence of where he was taken has been found.”

   The room is a mess. He forgot how much he destroyed it. “You did not hold back, did you?” Bombee comments, glancing at the other. “Yep.” He replies, laying back down. He is still very sore and his eyes still sting. “So, Red Chaos, how old are you?” Ender finally asks, finishing up the bandages on both knees. “15. And, it’s Tommy.” The other replies, his own name feeling weird on his tongue. He hasn’t had to say it in a really long time.

   “I’m Ranboo, Bombee’s name is Tubbo.” The enderian introducing, B- Tubbo giving a nod. “So, are you done fighting in general or just for the heroes?” Tubbo asks, muting the TV. Tommy doesn’t even hesitate to answer, “Just for the heroes.” He needs to make sure no other kids go through what he had. “Tomorrow, we can design your costume and the Syndicate will make it.” Ender explains, their tail slowly swaying.

   “What do I do right now? Is there anything I can help with?” Tommy asks, trying to push himself up. “Recover. We’re going out to do vigilante stuff.” Tubbo orders, putting his hand on the other teen and pushing him back down. The avian hybrid responds with a huff, but doesn’t argue back.

   Before they walk out of the room, Tommy mutters, “Can you guys not tell the Syndicate who I am?” They two look back at him. “Sure, that’s your information to share.” Ranboo agrees, turning the lights off.

Chapter Text

   Tommy happily has gotten better after around five days. He’s just lounging around on the couch, watching the News. The costume he designed is still on its way.

   The shirt he drew is a white baseball t-shirt with long red sleeves, a red collar, and red wing covers. According to Tubbo and Ranboo, the Syndicate leaders don’t let minors fight on the battlefield, and Tommy’s wings give away his real age, so it’s important that he keeps them covered but still usable. He also drew black gloves attached to the sleeves so they can’t get pulled off. On the neck area, he illustrated a black voice modifier like the ones his two friends have.

   For the pants, he drew black cargo pants with two pockets on each side. He also included a belt with a red pouch and spots to sheath daggers. The shoes he drew are black army boots with some type of knife pocket for emergencies.

   He plans to wear a gas mask under the green fabric Tubbo gave him when this all started. He also designed goggles with a black frame and dark red lenses. It may not hide his golden hair, but he plans to dye it to a more dull blond, and maybe he can add a white stripe in the bangs. In the notes, he requested an earpiece in the goggle strap to make it hard to pull out.

   He is pulled from his thoughts at the door opening. In walks Ranboo with Tubbo leaning against him. There is a stab wound in his side. “Hey, Tommy. Watch Tubbo while I get the med kit.” The tall enderian asks, leading Tubbo to the couch next to Tommy. He then turns and leaves the room.

   They have been letting Tommy stay here and have been helping him so much with this, he needs to be more useful. He leans forward and puts his hand on the wound. An orange glow encompasses the wound. Tommy doesn’t stop until it’s fully healed.

   “I have the- Oh.” Ranboo walks back in, the small box in hand. They both share a look, before turning their gazes back to the blond. “Yesterday, you said that it hurts when you heal people. You do know that you don’t need to heal us, right?” The tall teen asks, a worried look in his eyes. “I don’t mind. I’ve healed much worse than a small knife wound.” Tommy assures them, looking back at the tv. The pain is slowly simmering down.

   “Thanks, bossman.” Tubbo thanks as he headbuts the younger in the arm enough to make it slightly numb. “Yah, yah.” The blond says, pushing his friend’s head away.

…

   Tommy is just watching some tv when the room door is slammed open. Tubbo is smiling in excitement, ram tail shaking back and forth. “Toms! Come, come. Break ends soon, so let’s go. We need to get you school supplies!” The brunette explains, pulling Tommy away from his comfortable spot amongst the mini nest of pillows and blankets. “Wait- why do I need school supplies? How the fuck did you sign me up for school?” Tommy questions, turning the tv off and tossing the remote onto the bed.

   “We told Phil- Angel of Death- that we were helping a teen get back on their feet after running from a bad home life and needed a fake id and him to be signed up for school. We told him it wasn’t the same person as the person wanting a costume. We actually told him that we didn’t know your identity when we asked for the outfit. Now go get changed out of your pajamas.” Tubbo rants, before pointing to the closet and leaving the room. Huh. Guess Tommy gets to go to school

   The blond stands and starts getting changed into this pain blue jumper and black jeans, letting his mind drift. Dream did make Tommy learn school things, but mainly only in his free time. He says it’s in case schools call him in to teach a lesson to the kids. Dream does have to do it sometimes as a way to encourage kids to pay attention and to become heroes.

   Tommy is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Ranboo’s voice can be heard from the other side of the dark oak door. “Sure, just putting my shoes on.” The blond calls out, followed by the door opening. “I wanted to know if you need help preening your wings? I’ve helped preened Angel’s before.” He offers, walking over and sitting beside Tommy on the mess of blankets and pillows. It does sound nice for another person to help preen, since Tommy tends to pull feathers out when he tries preening them.

   “Sure, just be careful.” Tommy decides on, spreading his wings out as he finishes tying this pair of basic black and white running shoes. He relaxes into the touch, letting the feathers get moved back into place. His wings are white, each feather fading to gold at the end. He also grabs a brush that had been discarded on the nightstand and brushes through his now dull blond hair. Last night, they got a lot of dye products and watched a few tutorials to make bright hair more dulled down. It was genuinely pretty fun.

…

   They are walking down some street, past some shops. “First on the list is writing supplies.” Ranboo reads off, looking at some long ass text message. “To the art store.” Tubbo announces, pointing to some pastel pink and gray building. It has multiple signs up in it. In the middle, in big bold and pink letters it says “Rose Petals” and in smaller letters on the side of the building says “Cloud Café.”

   The three teens make their way inside and grab a cart. They start looking through different aisles before arriving at one full of pencils, pens, lead, paper, and other supplies like those. “Which do you prefer: mechanical or regular?” The tallest teen asks, leaning against their cart. “Mechanical seems more efficient.” He answers, finding a small pack of pencils with animal designs on them. It comes with a few containers of 0.7 lead and some extra erasers. Tubbo reaches forward and puts the pack into the cart.

   Ranboo glances at their phone, before commenting, “Pens, highlighter, some paper, and whiteout.” They also pick out some colored markers and pencils, designed hole punchers, and stamps. They move on to the next aisle.

   As they pick out notebooks, folders, and sticky notes, a tall creeper hybrid walks over. He has green hair, braided back, and completely black eyes. Green freckles dot his features, a warm smile on. “Hey, Sam. Come to visit Hannah?” The enderian greets, throwing some stickers into the cart. “Yah. This a new friend?” The man- apparently named Sam- replies and gestures to the blond.

   Tubbo nods and says, “Yep. His name is Tommy.” When his name is said, he holds his hand out. The creeper hybrid shakes the offered hand, glancing at some of the scars. Sam turns to the other two and nods, saying, “Well, hope the shopping goes well. I need to get back to work.”

   “Bye.” The two respond as the adult walks off. “Next on the list is clothes. Let’s purchase this stuff and go to the Undying Fashion.” Ranboo reads off from his phone.

…

   They make it to a desert-like building with “Undying Fashion” in big glowing green letters. Inside, there are a lot of clothes scattered in many sections separated by signs hanging from the ceiling: androgynous youth, masc youth, fem youth, androgynous adult, masc adult, and fem adult.

   “Which section first?” Ranboo asks, looking around the giant store. “Masculine adult.” Tommy answers, already making his way over there as Tubbo goes to grab the cart. There are sections for different hybrids there too, marked with words on the floor. They make it to the subsection for avian hybrids and start looking.

   After half-an-hour of looking, they find around 23 different outfits for Tommy to try on. “Tommy! C’mon! Put it on and come out.” Tubbo whines, the smirk evident in his voice. “Really, Tubbo? I know you fucking put this in the mix.” The younger replies, staring down at a fucking chicken costume. It even has wing covers designed to appear like chicken wings. “Please.” The ram hybrid pleads. The brunette snickers as he hears Tommy agree, “Fine, but I will break your phone if you take a picture.” With that being said, he puts the costume on and walks out with a scowl.

   It earns him a snicker from Tubbo and a muffled laugh by Ranboo. “Fuck off.” Tommy curses, no real heat in the words. “You mean bock off?” Ranboo comments like a bitch. He huffs and just goes back into the changing room.

…

   The three stop by some gas station on their way back to the huge apartment in district four. Apparently, the Syndicate pays for it, which makes sense with the fact neither Tubbo or Ranboo have jobs besides for the Syndicate and vigilante work. Thankfully, they didn’t have to carry the bags everywhere, because Ranboo teleported home to their house whenever they left a store and just teleported back.

   “C’mon. Let’s get slushies.” Tubbo declares, the two leading Tommy over to the slushie machine. Sure, Tommy knows that slushies exist, but he can’t remember ever drinking one.Tubbo grabs a cup while Ranboo pays for three slushies. Tommy grabs a cup himself and hesitates. He can’t decide which one he should get. Then, he notices that Tubbo is just getting every flavor.

   Huh. Couldn’t hurt to try. With that thought, he grabs his cup and does the same thing as Tubbo. When he sips it, he freezes. It’s an overload of flavors, all sweet. There is a small hint of sour mixed in with the multitude of flavors. “Oh.” He comments, looking down at the swirls and layers of colors. Ranboo repeats what the two previous teens did by getting all the flavors.

   The three exit the grocery store and go to some park. The two lead Tommy up a small hill to a bench by a tree. Tubbo starts playing some playlist on his phone titled “Disks.” They all sit down and lean against each other as they sip on their drinks and talk with the music playing in the background.

Chapter Text

   Finally, it was Monday- Tommy’s first day at actual school. He has all his things packed in a backpack with a cow on it. He stands by Tubbo and Ranboo, whilst the taller teen explains how the lockers work and shit. “Who’s your first period teacher today?” Tubbo asks, glancing at Tommy’s schedule paper. “Physics with some dude named Manifold?” The blond reads, getting a snicker from the brunette.

…

   Tommy understands Tubbo’s reaction after a few minutes in class when Mr. Manifold’s examples for terms and shit to all have something to do with nukes and shit. That guy has to be on some hero watch list. Tommy didn’t really interact with him during class. He may not have even noticed that Tommy is a new student.

   The next class was music, piano specifically for Tommy, Mr. Jared just had Tommy show him what he knew about the piano - which isn’t much but it’s something. Nothing much worth telling about really happened.

   His schedule says ‘Second Lunch,’ which Ranboo said meant that he goes to lunch after his third period. After a tiny bit of searching, he finds his third. On his schedule it says math class and the teacher’s name is actually fairly cool. Bad Boyalo.

   Walking in the room, he pauses. He notices a certain ram hybrid sitting in the front left corner of the classroom. “Tommy! Come, there’s no seating chart.” Tubbo says excitedly when he notices his blond friend. The avian happily does so, sitting by his friend and talking with him until the bell rings.

   A demon hybrid with brown hair and nearly white eyes. Not like pure white, he still has a pupil, but more of a very light gray eye color. His red demon tail flicks about and his small red horns protrude from the sides of his hair. He is wearing some green shirt with a small pixelated diamond a bit down and to the side of his collar. Along with that, he dons a pair of black jeans with black and white sneakers.

   “We have a new student today. Come on up and introduce yourself with a fun fact.” The teacher instructs, smiling nicely. The teen stands and walks up to the front. “I’m Thom- shit, sorry. I’m Tommy. I like to- uh, fuck- I like going to the park, I guess.” Tommy greats, mainly looking at the only one he knows in the class. “Language.” The teacher orders. Without hesitation, He answers, “I speak six languages.” For some reason, part of the class chuckle as if that was a joke. “Just be sure to not curse, please. You can go back to your seat.” Mr. Boyalo instructs, shaking his head slightly.

   He starts taking notes as the demon hybrid writes numbers on the board. The class continues like that until the bell rings

…

   Once class ends, the two get up and go to the cafeteria, Tommy just following Tubbo there. When they arrive, they meet up with Ranboo at some long table in the corner. Ranboo already got all three of their school lunches at some point: milk, some types of sandwich, and fruit. Sitting down, they two others thank the taller and from there arises a conversation about Prime knows what.

…

   Tommy says farewell as he walks to where they said the gym is. Last on his schedule for today is PE with ‘Puffy.’ Ranboo had earlier told Tommy that Puffy just doesn’t need to include her last name since she doesn’t believe one should be judged about who their family is but of what type of person they are.

   Once he arrives, the woman seems oddly familiar, but he can’t place from where. She is a sheep hybrid with fluffy brown hair, her bangs dyed white. She has two curled horns on either side of her head. Under the fluffy bangs are two green eyes. She is wearing some white tanktop and black sweatpants with a red jacket tied around her waist. It looks like the color scheme of the “retired” hero, Captain. Oh! That’s where he recognizes her from! Tommy skims his memories of the Captain.

~~

   He had only met Captain like two times before she quit, and it was while he was still just a healer. He was close to nine and was an on-field healer. He had run through to the injured hero, having dodged some villains and heroes fighting. There was some stray attack that had torn off the left corner on his full-face mask, exposing one of his once bright blue eyes, a scar he had next to his eye, and the corner of his mouth. As he healed what seemed to be a slash on the Captain’s leg, she stared at him, as if trying to see if he really was one of the hero’s healers.

   “How old are you?” The sheep hybrid asked, her voice modifier a bit glitchy but it still made her voice sound echoey. Tommy was taught to not talk outside of the hero tower, so he simply just finished healing her leg without answering her question. She narrowed her eyes, looking at the young looking eye. Once he finished healing, he was off to the next injured hero.

~

   A few days after that interaction, he was walking around the halls, seeing if anyone needed his help with anything. Suddenly, he heard some arguing from the office of Schlatt. The president of Esempi and the owner of the hero tower. “-kids, Schlatt! Y’know what? I quit!.” The semi-familiar voice of the sheep hybrid yelled, followed by the sound of a slam.

   Storming from the office comes a maskless woman with fluffy brown hair, wearing the costume of the Captain. When Tommy walked by the room, he had noticed the sheep mask sitting on the president’s desk as he stood by the big ass window-walls. Bingo. That’s where Tommy recognizes his PE teacher.

-

   He freezes, staring at her like she had stared at him nearly six years ago. She does glance at the recognizable jagged scar, which is now accompanied on his face with many more, but the glance only lasts a second. She extends her hand, a soft smile on her face as she greets, “You must be Tommy. Welcome, go find a place on the bleachers.” He stands there for a moment, still processing this new realization.

   “Captain?” The words fall from his mouth by accident, not registering the slip-up his training must’ve gotten rusty during the months away until she pauses herself. “What did you just call me?” She asks, her eyes slightly narrowing as if trying to find out how this random ass teenager knows that. Tommy’s face slightly reddens from embarrassment and he just walks over to his seat. This is the second time that he has ever just not answered her question.

   She hums slightly, but doesn’t push further.

…

   Once she marks attendance, she explains to the class the basic exercises they have for the day. Just some basic stuff: running the track, sit-ups, ect. Some of the other students groan, dragging their feet on their way to the track, whilst some try to race their friends there.

   Tommy gets to the track and starts running, quickly passing everyone. When training to become a field healer, they taught him a faster way of running to make it easier to get to injured healers. Along with that, Dream had him practicing for ten hours a week when he started working as his sidekick. As he finishes his seventh lap, he hears a whistle blow and stops. Students move over to some mats in the center, as Puffy walks to Tommy.

   “Need a break?” The older ex-hero asks, counting concern. “Why would I need a break? We’re just starting.” Replies the younger, following the other teen’s examples and getting on the mats.

   There are some people putting straps across their feet, while others just brag about being able to do sit ups without needing to have their feet held down. Tommy just starts doing the exercise, not wasting any time bragging or setting up the straps.

…

   The rest of class goes on as such until the bell rings. Now, nearly everyone is dragging their feets. “Don’t forget about the power day next week!” Puffy calls put as the students leave. Tommy waits on the bleachers for Ranboo, who had texted him to wait for them in the gym a few minutes ago.

   “Tommy, right?” The sheep hybrid says, sitting by the younger. Once she gets a nod from him, she continues with, “Waiting for someone or did you have any questions?” He glances at the door to see if his two friends are almost here. “Just, waiting.”

   Three minutes of awkward silence pass until purple particles break out in the doorway. Ranboo is there with Tubbo, both having smiles on their faces. Ranboo shifts Tommy’s backpack from both hands to one hand so they can wave at Puffy. “Hi, Ranboo. See you in class tomorrow.” The sheep hybrid says, proceeding with, “Bye, Tommy. Tubbo. Hope you had a good first day.” Tommy takes his backpack from Ranboo, as Tubbo waves at Puffy, and the three disappear into the same burst of purple particles.

…

   Tommy didn’t have much homework to do since it was the first day back after the break. The next day, they walk him to his first period, theatre with Mr. Slime. The room is fairly spatios. It’s like one of those indoor rooms that Dream sometimes gives speeches at. The class is… energetic?

   Mr. Slime is a slime hybrid with random patches of skin having a green slimy-ish texture, his eyes a matching green color. He has brown hair, which looks both slightly fluffy yet a bit messy. He wears a white t-shirt with three red lines in the middle. Aling with that, he has light blue jeans on with red and white sneakers on. For the first day back, he starts teaching them all how to act like a ‘suspiciously normal person’.

   After that class, he has history with Mrs. Ideekay, which comically sounds like the acronym, ‘IDK’. What a coincidence. She just goes on a long boring rant about Esempi. He has first lunch on B days with just Ranboo. The two hang out, nothing that really stands out too much. But the next class is a bit more interesting. It’s english with Mr. Craft, who has a cool ass first name. Techno Craft.

   The teacher isn’t there when he walks in, the words ‘Out for Coffee’ written on the board. Tommy quickly finds Ranboo sitting in the back of class by the teacher’s cluttered desk. Standing by the taller’s desk, they start talking about the class.

   But their conversation is interrupted by some asshole going behind Ranboo with a water bottle in hand and… Ranboo lets out a loud and deeply pained enderian screech as the water drips down and subsequently burns his skin slightly. On instinct from years of training, Tommy has his fist up and flying. The asshole is on the floor in less than a second, his nose gushing blood.

   The teen’s scream gets the attention of the random teacher in the neighboring room, who storms in. “Follow me!” The adult demands, not listening when another kid tries explaining what happened. They lead Tommy to the principal’s office and instruct him to sit in some chair.

…

   It takes around 37 minutes for them to finish his suspension form, and for them to contact the other kid and his ‘guardian’. Tommy has no clue who the Angel of Death put for his emergency contacts, but he’s about to find out. The principal is some tall dragon hybrid, his name plate saying. ‘Mr. Whoknow.’

   Suddenly the door opens and in comes a man. He has straight blond hair going to his shoulders and blue eyes that look slightly concerned. He has a gray hoodie on with black sweats and green slip on shoes. He’s a bit taller than Tommy, but shorter than the principal. He turns his gaze to Tommy, glancing at his slightly bloodied knuckles. “What happened?” He asks, kneeling in front of the teen.

   “He punched-” The principal tries, getting interrupted when Phil holds his hand up. “I was asking my son.” The older blond says coldly, continuing with a much softer warm tone, “Now, what happened, Tommy?” That quickly shut the principal up, his mouth shutting immediately. “I was talking with Ranboo and someone walked up and poured water on him. So, to stop the water, I punched them.” The younger blond explains, turning to stare at his knuckles. “I have a suspension form you need to fill out.” The principal adds, sliding the form over.

_____________________________

Suspension Form

To the guardian(s) of Tommy Innit Craft,

We regret to inform you that your student got in an altercation at school today involving another student. Tommy punched him for what the student claims to be a harmless joke. Although he is new, he is still held to the same standards as our other students. As a penalty, we have decided to suspend him for three days.

Guardian signature(s)

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Student Signature

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Principal Signature

_ Mr_Whoknow_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________

  He picks it up and reads over it, before setting it back down with a bit of force. “I’m not signing this. I have a few issues with this. The other kid isn’t here too.” The older blond states, his anger obvious in his tone. “S-Sir- Mr. Craft, he had to get to the medbay and his mother insisted on bringing him home.” The other stammers, putting their hands up in a placating gesture.

   “So, the other kid gets off scot free, while mine gets in trouble for defending his friend? This is bullshit and you know it. Now, if that is all, my son should return to class. He has already missed enough of his class.” His tone leaves no room for argument, causing the principal to back down and just put the paper in the trash. The two blonds exit the office and the older follows with him to the class. Wait. Mr. Craft? “C’mon, let’s get you back to Tech’s class.” He gestures forward with his head when his pseudo-son pauses.

   When they enter, a piglin hybrid with long pink hair stands in front of the class. Ranboo is in the same seat in the back, sipping on some juice called ‘Healer’s Brew!’, which seems to be helping with the burns. The piglin hybrid, piglin brute to be specific, stands taller than both blonds and is a bit more strongly built. His triangle-shaped piglin ears are decorated in golden earrings, along with his neck and wrists.

   Something he hadn’t noticed before was the necklace the older blond has hanging around his neck. Its chain is made of diamonds with an emerald on the bottom. He only now notices because one of the pinkette’s necklaces is the same, but with a gold chain. He has his hair tied in a neat ponytail that cascades down to about halfway down his back. He still had some hair out and down the side of his head next to his blood-red eyes. He has a few scars, but not as many as Tommy. One of those scars goes across his nose. He is wearing a white button up with a brown cardigan and black dress pants. Under the pant legs are two black business shoes.

   “Phil? Who’s?” The piglin starts, but gets cut off. “Just dropping off your brother, Tech’. I had a small conversation with the principal, and Tommy’s not in trouble.” Phil(?) explains, interrupting his son(?). Techno(?) glances at his role, before looking back up and nodding. “Bye, see you at home.” The older blond says, waving at the two. Tommy just goes over to the back and sits by Ranboo, glancing over to make sure he’s okay.

…

   The bell finally rings, and Tommy picks up his things. “Hand.” The teacher commands, approaching the younger once everyone but him and Ranboo left. Hesitantly, he holds his hand out, blood still staining it. The piglin hybrid goes to his desk and grabs a cloth and a water bottle. He gets the cloth wet and carefully grabs Tommy’s hand to presumably clean the blood, but he pauses when the younger one’s wings flare out a bit.

   “This is just water, promise.” The monotone voice of the adult assures, waiting for confirmation to continue. Once Tommy nods, he slowly starts wiping the blood, being surprisingly gentle with his rough calloused hands. It takes around a minute for all the blood to be cleaned, and Techno lets out a small chuff and nods to Ranboo once done. “Go to your fourth period. Don’t be late.” The pinkette says. With that, Ranboo grabs Tommy’s hand and teleports to their fourth period, coding.

   Tubbo is there, sitting on a long desk with three empty chairs. There are monitors and keyboards on every desk, with the computer consoles under the desks. Standing in the front of the room is a man with black hair fluffing upwards. He has random spots of diamonds on his face, hands, and neck, staying on as if glued. He’s the second non-hybrid teacher at this school. His eyes are a coal black. He wears a diamond blue hoodie with a duck drawn on the front center and black sweats. He had matching blue crocks on.

   “Hi. Let’s get started.” Mr. Diamond (according to Tommy’s schedule) says. The rest of class continues as such, nothing too big happening but a lesson on soundboard technology.

Chapter Text

   It’s finally the weekend. It hasn’t been too hard at school, but it feels good to have a break. Tubbo and Ranboo are out getting some groceries, when there is a knock at the door. Tubbo and Ranboo can just teleport in if they both forgot their keys… Tommy grabs the gun Ranboo had gotten for him a little while back. He can’t see anything outside the door. Someone is covering the peephole on the door.

   Quickly, he opens the door and raises the gun. There stands a phantom hybrid with brown curly hair and eyes. His skin has a blue tint to it and the white of his eyes has a small green tint. He wears round wire rimmed glasses, both sides missing the lens. He has on a yellow sweater and black cotton pants. Along with that is a necklace, an emerald attached to a silver chain like Phil’s and Techno’s. He just has black slip-on shoes on.

   In his right hand is a box. “Oh. Is Ranboo and Tubbo here?” The bastard asks, not at all bothered by the gun pointed at his head. “No. If that’s for them, I’ll give it to them when they get back.” The blond answers, narrowing his eyes at the lanky motherfucker. “Hm. Or I could Text Ranboo to quickly teleport here. Hope you understand, mate.” Fuckin’ weirdo- Oh. Ranboo did mention that the costume should be arriving today. So this guy could be a member of the Syndicate. The brunette pulls out his phone and sends something.

   Once Ranboo teleports next to the brunette, Tommy decides to lower the gun. “Ah. Thanks, Wilbur. I’m in a bit of a hurry, I need to make sure Tubbo doesn’t fill the cart with caffeinated things.” Ranboo says, grabbing the box. He teleports inside, sets the package down, and teleports away. Tommy backs up and shuts the door, locking it.

   The blond opens the package and there it is. Exactly what he had drawn. He’s definitely going out in this later.

…

   Ranboo and Tubbo are fairly tied when they return from shopping. Ranboo randomly had teleported in and out of the apartment to drop off bags, Tommy putting the food away when they teleported away to gather more or to go to another store.

   “You sure you’re ready for your first non-heroic patrol? You still don't have to join the Syndicate if you don’t want to. You could also wait for tomorrow so we’d have enough energy to come along too.” Tubbo asks, helping Tommy set up the voice modifier. He decided on making his voice sound deeper and a bit wavy. “I’m sure. Besides, I’ll be fine on my own, I’ll just use the earpiece if I have to.” Tommy assures, adjusting his wings in the covers. “Okay. Be safe. Bye.” The ram hybrid sighs, putting the voice modifier around his friend’s neck. Tommy waves, replying with, “Bye!”

   With that’ he’s out, the green fabric secured around his gas mask and the goggles tied tightly over his face. He had made sure to cover up the white stripe in his hair by using a hair pin thingy to tuck it under all the other fluffy layers. He just flies up to the roof tops. He decided to start with the lower districts and make his way up. He makes it to District 48, before starting his patrol.

…

   He makes it to the roofs in district 29, having mainly stopped petty crimes and shit, before he ran into a familiar brute. The Blood God. He’s one of the three leaders of the Syndicate, along with Angel of Death and Siren. He almost instinctively gets ready to fight until he remembers that he’s not a threat anymore. Hopefully. It’s been two months since he ran away.

   “Hey- uh- coworker? Boss? Whatever.” Tommy greets, getting a grunt from the other. He probably noticed the younger before he even landed on the same roof as him. The piglin brute looks familiar enough to confirm his suspicions. The Crafts are the leaders of the Syndicate. Meh. It makes sense since Angel did set up his school form and Philza Craft showed up.

   The Blood God has his hair in a neat brain instead of the ponytail he sees it in at school. He wears a white button up. Up-close, Tommy can see old light blood stains on the shirt. The piglin has a red cape draped around his shoulders with a fluffy white collar. He also has black combat pants on and black combat boots. To hide his face, he wears a boar skull mask. During fights, the red of his eyes sometimes seems to be visible and glowing through the lifeless eye sockets. He still wears a fair amount of gold along with a belt for weapons.

   The Blood God just sits on the edge of the building, eyes glossing the landscape. “Whatcha doing?” Tommy asks, sitting beside the villain. “The heroes have been on our asses for that sidekick’s disappearance. As such, I’m looking for any proof that it’s not tied to us. Just waiting for Chat to get back to me on it.” The taller responds, his voice box deepening his voice and giving it a small echo. ‘Chat’ is a group of shadows that Blood God can talk to and travel through. Sometimes Chat can focus their voices on one person or many.

   Once, they focused on Tommy during a fight, successfully distracting him. Dream had him wearing headphones blasting many news channels at once for a whole week after that to teach him to deal with it. It hurt. “I see.” The younger replies and looks around too to see the shadows. He sees some areas where the shadows get darker before a glop of shadows shoot out of it and to the next area.

   “So, how do you do that eye glowy thing I see on the news?” Tommy asks, slowly kicking his feet. “I have retractable pitch black plates in my mask and I press a small button to make them go back and then chat covers everything but the red of my eyes.” Techno explains, no annoyance in his voice. “Ah. I would have expected that kind of dramatics from Siren.” The avian teases, leaning forward to try seeing if a shadow is chat or a normal shadow.

   Coincidence, Techno gently smacks the back of the blond’s head as retaliation to the dramatics comment. By doing this, it gets Tommy off balance and accidentally sends him over the edge of the building. Shit! He flaps his wings, barely catching himself before he hits the concrete.

   “That was on purpose, you bastard!” The blond accuses before flying back up onto the roof. “Happy accident actually.” The bastard corrects, shrugging. “Fuck you-” Tommy starts before his earpiece starts up. “Tommy? Are you okay?” Tubbo’s statically voice starts up, something in his mask probably reporting the alarmingly quick movement down. “I’m fine, Bombee. Blood God pushed me off a building by what he claims to be an accident.” He replies into the mic in his mask, before continuing with, “I should head back now anyways. It’s getting late.”

“Bye, Blood God, good luck.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

…

   The next morning, he is rudely awoken by Tubbo shaking him. “Tommy! You got a villain name!” The shorter tells the other excitedly, his small ram tail wagging slightly. “What?” Tommy nearly yells, shooting up. He usually wakes up around four in the morning - a habit that won’t go away. “Theseus! Someone posted a video of you getting pushed off the roof, like that old Greek story.” Tubbo elaborates, pulling up something on his phone and showing it to Tommy.

_____________________________

Random_B176h  - 1:23AM

How does “Theseus” sound for this new dude?

[Insert Video]

#Villain? #Vigilante? #Falling #Fails #District29 #New #Firstsighting? #GreekMythology #BadSleepSchedule

_____________________________

   Huh. “That’s pog, I guess?” Tommy replies, glancing at the clock above the door. 3:00AM. Tommy went to sleep at 1:40AM. “Someone posted this on EggNet! You should make an account!” Tubbo suggests, smiling at his friend. “I didn’t even have one as a hero.” He contemplates, before saying, “I’ll decide tomorrow.” With that, he lays back and falls asleep.

…

   He still wakes up at four and waits for one of his friends to wake up. Ranboo is the first to wake up around 10:30 in the morning. After talking with Ranboo about what Tubbo suggested, he decides why not. As such, Ranboo helps install some software to make it virtually impossible to track him from EggNet. But this account isn’t for his villain- Vigilante?- persona. No.

_____________________________

EGGNET

RedChaos_Reborn

Made- 1 second ago

Followers- 0

Following- 0

Shells- 0

Likes- 0

Bio

F*ck the heroes. You took my childhood, now I’m going for your reputation.

_____________________________

   “You sure?” Ranboo asks, glancing at the screen. “Definitely.” He says matter-of-factly. “Can we teleport to district 50 real quick? I know what I want as my profile picture?” He continues, getting a nod from Ranboo. Tommy grabs something, before the two teens teleport there.

…

   It takes a moment to find the perfect angle and set up. A certain black, broken, circular mask lays on the floor with his costume layed out under it with the words “CHILD SOLDIER” painted on it with white paint. Boom. Perfect profile picture. After putting that as his profile picture, he and Ranboo teleport home.

   Before watching a movie with Ranboo, he made his first post.

_____________________________

RedChaos_Reborn  - 11:23AM

This isn’t a fan account or a fake. I wasn’t taken by the Syndicate, I ran away. Pay attention to the healers during fights when their masks tear or burn, some will look younger than you’d expect. More information will be provided later.

#Heroes #RedChaos #News #Explanation #TBC #Red_Chaos @OriginsNews @Dream @Smaj0rNews @EsempiNews

_____________________________

…

   After around five hours, after Tubbo had already joined them, they all binge watched some documentaries and popular movies. Tommy glances at the news app on his phone and pauses.

_____________________________

Red Chaos - Reborn or Long Gone? 

Live

OriginsNews

[Insert picture of EggNet post]

_____________________________

   Tommy quickly grabs the remote and goes to the news channel. “Huh? What’s going on?” Tubbo asks, before he reads what it says on the bottom. “Oh. Forgot to tell you, Tommy made Red Chaos an account to expose the heroes.” Ranboo explains casually.

Clementine: “Well, if you zoom into the profile picture, it seems the pieces missing are an exact match size wise with the shards the heroes found in his room.”

Henry: “Sure, but they could have edited it to be a match.”
Clementine: “But it is possible that it’s real. That would have to be some editing with how the shadows and lighting look. Guess we’ll see later though”

   Tommy smiles proudly at the screen before he decides to switch it back to the movie. Tubbo leans forward and says, “I love this scene…”

…

   It’s Monday yet again. Well- last period on Monday. It was a fairly long day, but a fun one. He and Tubbo had jokingly tried getting Mr. Boyalo to curse. Sadly, today is the power training day in PE. See, powers are like muscles. The more you use them, the stronger they get, so it’s basically a work out day for powers.

   “Okay, get into your sections marked by the papers. Don’t forget, be careful.” Puffy dismisses. Tommy is the only one who goes to the corner for people who are uncomfortable to do it in front of people.

…

   When the bell rings, Tommy gathers his few things. “Tommy, I need to talk with you before you go.” Puffy says, sounding a bit concerned. “Sure.” He replies, ignoring the few ‘oOoOo’s’ he receives from his peers. The teacher seems to wait for everyone to leave the room before sitting on the bleachers and patting the spot next to her. “So. What is your power exactly?” The sheep hybrid asks when the younger sits. In response, he mutters,  “Doesn’t matter.” She hums, looking at the scar by his eye.

   “I once saw someone with that exact scar. At the time, that was the only scar visible to me, but then again he could have gotten more if he’s still alive.” Puffy comments, the concern never leaving her gaze and voice. Tommy only responds by turning his gaze downward. “They usually don’t erase every file they have on a healer unless they die. So, why could we only recover one file before all of them were gone?” She asks, deciding to cut to the chase.

   “Dunno what you mean.” Tommy replies, biting the inside of his cheek. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow and says, “I won’t tell Angel of Death, if that’s what you’re worried about.” A moment of silence passes as he contemplates what he should or shouldn’t say. She was Dream’s mentor. But, there was a rumor that she and him had an argument about her quitting.

   “Red Chaos.” He decides on. If Ranboo and Tubbo trust her, hopefully he can too. She freezes, eyes wide and a look of pity sympathy sneaks into her eyes. It’s silent for a moment, until Ranboo teleports in. “You ok? You- What’s going on?” The tall teenager pauses, glancing between the two seated besides each other. “She knows I was Red Chaos now.” Tommy answers, mumbling with his gaze down.

   “Oh. Don’t tell Phil, please.” Ranboo requests, looking at Puffy. She nods, agreeing, and offers, “I’m a licensed therapist, if you ever need to talk.” Tommy stands up, stretching a bit. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Cap.” The avian hybrid replies, refusing to look up for too long. He then grabs Ranboo’s hand and- Vrooop.

Chapter Text

   Tommy is currently alone at home- well kind of alone. Tubbo is asleep in his room. He suddenly gets an alert on his phone.

Hero-Villain fight: District 3

Main Heroes on scene: Flame, Ant, Pnz, Warden, E-Pants.

Main Villains on scene: Blood God, Angel of Death, Jester, and Slimecicle

   This is his chance. Dream is probably busy with ‘Red Chaos’s’ new EggNet account, so he doesn’t have to deal with that shithole of emotions. He rushes to his room, being careful as he changes to avoid waking his friend in the room across. With that, he is out the door, a coat over his costume and the rest of the visible gear in his pocket.

   Once he gets to an empty alleyway, he hides the coat in a small hideyhole in the back wall. Once he’s done attaching his gas mask, goggles, and bandana, he is rushing to the actions. He almost reaches up to touch his mic and reports being there on instinct, but stops himself. He rushes into battle, running past the lesser known heroes and villains to send a punch at E-Pants, who was fighting Blood God. Tommy rarely interacted with E-Pants when he was a healer and hero, so he felt less guilty decking him in the face. The piglin ‘villain’ grabs Tommy and throws him way up in the air. When he looks down, wings flapping, he notices that he had saved him from one of Flame’s fireballs.

   He swoops down and continues his fight with E-Pants. It seems like he is off on his training, since Tommy is easily winning the fight. Loser. But, alas, Flame manages to lose Angel of Death and comes to help E-Pants. Shit. He dodges a fireball but, for the first time during this fight, E-Pants lands a hit to his stomach. “Finally found out how to hit, huh?” Tommy taunts, already up and ready to keep going. “Says the ones who are losing.” E-Pants retorts, and, after glancing around, Tommy realizes that he is right. Even with the advantage in numbers, the heroes still are winning due to the fact they have way more healers.

   Flame seems to be targeting Tommy during this fight, thinking he’ll be easier to take down. He is both right and wrong on this. Right before a lower time hero throws a dagger while he’s distracted, Angel of Death swoops down and lifts him up into the air. The stray dagger lands in Flame’s upper shoulder. Ha. The older winged villain flies back down, lets go, and goes back up to the skies to help in the fight.

   A hand touches his shoulder and he glances over to see a boar skull. “Go grab a News camera and bring it here.” The Blood God orders, nodding over to the police border keeping the public away. Like the little soldier he was raised as, He runs over and jumps on some officer’s face and yanks one of the News reporter’s cameras and microphone. He books it back, dodging any minor heroes that try stopping him. When he returns, Blood God grabs E-Pants and holds his sword up to his neck. An unguarded neck? It’s a surprise he’s considered a ‘well-known hero’.

   Tommy holds up the camera, seeing Angel of Death swoop over to protect the three. “Retreat and let us go or I slit his throat on live TV with our new member.” Techno orders into the microphone. Phil takes the camera from Tommy, his wings making it easier for him to shield it from any attacks. The pinkette nods Tommy over, which the young blond listens to, eagerly. He keeps the microphone up to Techno. “Have any comments, Theseus?” The Blood God asks, looking down to the young villain.

   “Just the basic stuff. Fuck the heroes. The hero system will fall. Ect.” Tommy says, moving the mic to talk into it. Most of the villains had regrouped by the hostage situation. The heroes all look hesitant, until Flame speaks up, “Fine. Let him go and we’ll let you go.”

   “We’ll let him go after we get a safe distance.” Techno replies, now leading all the minor and major villains away. At some point, Angel of Death drops the camera. As such, Tommy drops the microphone.

…

   They reach district 46 before letting E-Pants go. “Good job for your first big fight. You sure you want to be in the Syndicate? Las Nevadas is more fun and we have casinos.” Jester offers, jokingly. “Tempting, but nah. I’ll stick with the Syndicate for now.” He responds, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, Q- Jester. Casinos can’t beat popularity. Want me to call Ender, Theseus?” Angel of Death asks, ruffling the younger’s hair as a way of saying ‘good job’. “Actually, do you have any training places I can go to?” He asks. He had to get saved twice; he needs to train more, so he doesn’t bring anyone down with him.

   “Yah, we have a few at some bases. Chat could bring you to the main one if you want.” Phil responds, looking over to Techno. Tommy hums, considering it before agreeing, “Sure. That sounds good.” The shadows under him darken and he hears indistinguishable whispers before sinking into the cold darkness.

   He comes out from the winter-like shadows in a basic training room: wood floors, basic walls lined with weapons, practice robots, and punching bags. Tommy goes over to the practice robot with a fire symbol on its cheek and turns it on.

…

   It’s around four hours when Ender walks in. “I- Blood God said Chat brought you here a few hours ago.” His friend comments, leaning on the doorway. “And? I’m behind on my training.” Tommy replies, now fighting with a robot with a green string on its cheek. Most of the robots have some symbol on their cheek to show which hero it’s designed after. “They have someone watching the cameras around here. Both security guards say that the only break you had was one single five minute one where you worked out and drank some water.” The taller explains, nodding over to the camera in the corner and continuing, “It’s time to go back home. You need to rest.”

   “But I’m fine.” He argues, dodging a string from the robot. Ranboo huffs and teleports over, powering the robot off and teleporting back over to the younger. “Ran-” He starts, getting interrupted by a small hiss. “This isn’t debatable, this is unhealthy.” Ranboo says, teleporting the two back to the apartment. “Did you hiss at me?” Tommy asks, a bit teasingly. “Just lie down. We’ll train later.” The taller says, sitting on the couch. Tommy lays next to him, yawning slightly. He slowly finds the sweet calmness of rest.

Chapter Text

   He awakens in his small room at the early time of four in the morning. He needs to get to training, Dream already isn’t in a good mood. He rushes into costume and goes to the training room. Dream is already there, ready for training. Dream isn’t usually there this early, but he’s probably making sure Tommy gets extra training after Tommy [[[[[[]]]]]]. “C’mon. Fists up, Red Chaos.” His mentor orders, sounding more cold than normal.

   They both throw a few hits, Dream fighting more harder than normal.

“Again!”

“Try harder!”

“Ungrateful!”

“Selfish!”

“Do that again!”

“Did th-se vil—ns t—ch you no—ing?”

“Waste of materials.”

   “This is getting nowhere. Go grab some food.” He says after some training, sounding both annoyed and disappointed to help water the guilt he had planted in Tommy’s gut years ago. As Tommy moves through the halls, some of his fellow heroes give him nasty looks. Instead of traveling to the mall food court, he just goes to the cafeteria in the hero tower. As he gets food, he notices the whispers around him.

“Is that the guy who ________?”

“Tr—t-r.”

“Vi–ain.”

   He eats quickly and goes back to the training room. Looking over, he sees a cuff sitting on the table. Fuck. He puts it on and prepares. Dream cuts his hand and holds it out. “Try to heal this.” Dream orders, his hand palm up and in front of Tommy. Power suppressors are uncomfortable as it is, but trying to use your powers with one on hurts, different types of pain for different powers. But what else is Tommy supposed to do? This is his Pun—me-t for —---.

   Tommy pushes his power out to try healing it. Tommy has a weird blood thing which he discovered altered power suppressors. Tommy’s power basically heals wounds by transferring the wound to him, but, technically, it mentally transfers without actually making Tommy take the wound physically. That’s why he feels the same type of pain as the person, but it’s more painful because his body doesn’t see a need to protect a non-existing wound so it does nothing to lessen the pain.

   Why is this important right now? Well, Tommy’s blood reacts weirdly with power suppressors. He can’t heal people, but his power will still try to transfer the wound. By doing so, he’ll develop the same injury physically, since the suppressor will block the part of his power that makes sure it’s not physical and the part that removes it from the other person.

   When Tommy pushes his power to try healing Dream’s hand, his hand starts hurting, and it starts bleeding. Tommy is about to pull away, when Dream snaps, “Did I say to stop, Red Chaos?” The area around his wrist burns more and more. It takes an hour until Dream is satisfied. His mentor then grabs a knife. “Y’know, it’s been a while since you’ve trained to not crack under interrogation.” The green clad hero comments, cruelly.

…

   It feels like hours in that small caged room on that shitty chair. During that, Dream has yelled, hit, cut, kicked, and so so much more. It’s a training exercise to prepare him for if he is captured by the villains and interrogated for sensitive information. It’s a way for Dream to torture him for messing up. Although, all the injuries feel exactly like other ones he’s gotten in the past. But, to be fair, that isn’t saying much, since he can’t really think of anywhere that hasn’t been hurt before.

   “I gave you everything!” Dream yells in his face. “And this is how you repay me? You know you deserve this right? I care about you, Red. This hurts me more than it hurts you, but I have to so you learn your lesson. It was so selfish of you to join the fucking Syndicate. I have one last thing to say to you, The—eus. Wake up.” Dream orders and everything turns pitch black.

   Tommy is shaking- no, being shook- wait, maybe both. Tears stream down his face, his arms slightly bleeding. Looking at his hands, he finds his fingernails are to blame for the injuries, red stains at the edge of his sharp-ish nails. Ranboo stands over him with his hands on his shoulders. Tommy is also drenched in sweat, his heart beating faster than a drum.

   Tubbo runs in, holding a glass of water with a small pink tint to it. Obviously, Tommy drinks it while Tubbo helps him hold up the glass. It’s a weird sensation. The water is ice cold, but the healing potion causes a burst of warmth in his chest and arms. “Want to talk about it?” Ranboo asks, concern evident in his voice. Tommy quietly replies with a hoarse, “Later, Big R.” Tommy’s blankets are set up in a lazy nest-like shape, some now on the floor, probably from moving in his sleep.

   Ranboo pulls Tommy into a hug, making sure to be gentle. His slightly sharp nails start gently scraping through Tommy’s hair. It’s nice, relaxing even. Tubbo sits beside the younger, slowly preening the downie feathers. Slowly, Tommy’s heart calms down and his eyes droop.

…

   Tommy is in 4th period a few days later on Tuesday. Suddenly his phone blares.

Hero-Villain fight: District 4

Main Heroes on scene: Dream, 404, EPants, Flame, and HBomb

Main Villains on scene: Siren, Angel of Death, Jester, and Slimecicle

   Shit. District four is where their apartment is. Clicking on it, he opens live footage of it. Thankfully, his volume is down. He glances at his two friends in class and discreetly shows them. The fight was right outside their apartment and was already looking to be a destructive one. He watches as HBomb is picked up by Angel of Death and brought way up high, probably to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.

   True to his hero alias, he starts trying to make explosions to get free. Some end up hitting their apartment. Damnit.

…

   When school ends, the trio head to the wreckage site and go to where other residents seem to be gathered. When any place(s) of living are destroyed during a big hero/villain fight, the resident(s) go stay at some hotel building set up by the government for situations like this. They get to the very back of the line and wait.

   When they’re at the front of the line, they scan their IDs. Tommy has his head down. The person in charge of checking residents’ IDs and giving them their keys is Flame. Flame was not as bad as the other two in the Dream team, but that isn’t saying much.

   He didn’t do anything to help Tommy. He watched as Dream basically tortured him and did nothing. Even if he didn’t know Tommy was a minor, it was still fucked to just watch it happen. He didn’t ever see Tommy’s face at least. Not even Dream has seen Tommy’s full face. “Hm. This says you live with your father and brothers in District 2?” Flame says, glancing at his laptop and back to Tommy. “Oh. He’s here for moral support.” Tubbo jumps in, Ranboo’s arm idly wrapping around the younger’s shoulders to help ground him.

   “Why did he hand me his ID then?” The demon hybrid asks, not really sounding that skeptical. “Muscle memory, I suppose.” Tommy answers this time, finally managing to look up at the hero. He remembers when it was the other trying to avoid his gaze in shame during the young hero’s “training” with Dream. “Ah. Since you’re the last ones in line, I’ll help you get home safely. Don’t know if there are still any villains nearby.” Flame says, closing his laptop and putting it in his bag. Tommy knows that refusing could look suspicious, so he just nods.

   “Bye, guys. See you at school tomorrow.” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. Could Ranboo teleport Tommy there? Probably. Why doesn’t he? Well they have a small head injury from when they were playing video games with Tubbo last night. When Tubbo got jumpscared, his controller went flying and hit Ranboo in the head. They tried teleporting to school with his friends and almost teleported into a pond at the park.

…

   They finally get there and Flame knocks on the door. When it’s opened, a familiar blond old man answers. “Oh. Hey, Tommy. Are Ranboo and Tubbo doing fine?” He asks, really good at acting in the role of Tommy’s father or at least how Tommy thinks fathers act like. “Yah. They got there safely and I think there is a bus to drive the residents to that hotel.” The younger blond answers, fiddling with his backpack strap. Phil nods and turns to the hero, “Thank you for returning him safely. Good day.”

   The awkward hero nods and takes this as an invitation to leave and reply, “No worries. Bye, Mr. Craft.” Tommy walks past the man before he closes the door and sighs. “Thanks.” The younger mutters, glancing around. It’s a pretty basic house. Beige walls, dark oak lining and flooring, a fluffy carpet in the entrance hallways that leads to multiple rooms with a staircase off to the right side of the hallway.

   “No worries. If I didn’t let you in, they would look into it and I’d get in trouble too.” Phil comments, leading Tommy into the first door frame to the left. It’s a living room. There are a few pictures of the family hanging around.

   There is a big fluffy white carpet across the floor under a glass coffee table with a black metal frame. Sitting a bit away from the coffee table is a pastel blue couch with 4 decently sized cushions. By the couch there are side tables made from different types of wood on either side of it, like a frankenstein table or a kid’s art project. There are two pastel blue recliners slanted to face a TV hanging above the fireplace, which is directly across from the couch. Atop the fireplace are picture frames of Techno and Wilbur as teenagers, one of Phil with his sons as ten year olds holding their adoption papers up proudly, some metals and awards, and a few nicknacks. The fireplace is made of dark oak and has square tiles lining it for safety.

   After Tommy analyzes the room, he glances at the other and explains, “Not for that. For the rooftop talk a few months ago.” Phil pauses and glances down at the other, who decides to elaborate, “I overheard Tubs and Boo talking about some Syndicate shit. Kinda pog that the Angel of Death is my legal guardian.” He sees the older’s shoulders relax, and he hears him hum slightly. “No worries, kid. Glad you’re doing better. I’ll give you a house tour after dinner is done.”

Chapter Text

   During dinner, Tommy finds out that Techno is out on patrol and won’t be back until late. Wilbur is spending the night in the base medbay from the fight. Right now, it’s around two in the morning, and Tommy is in the kitchen with a cup of water.

   He hears the front door open and he instinctively grabs a knife, forgetting that two of the three residents weren’t home. He hides around a corner, and, when the footsteps get close enough, he jumps out and cuts the “intruder” across the stomach.

   Shit. That’s Tommy’s first thought when he sees Techno flinch back and grab his stomach. “What- Tommy?! What are you doing here?!” The piglin exclaims, clutching the cut. It - thankfully - doesn’t look that deep. “Legal shit. Sit, I can help.” Tommy orders, the only thought in his mind is about healing the older.

   “I know how to take care of a wound, kid.” Techno replies, going for the medkit. “Sit, I insist. I can help faster.” Tommy repeats, scowling. “Okay, but if I have to redo your work, I will give you detention.” The other threatens, sitting down.

   Holding his hands out, he feels his power working to heal the shallow slash. His stomach starts hurting in turn, causing him to wince a bit. He is used to it still, but it’s been a little while since he’s healed someone. He hears a small sharp intake of breath from Techno as the orange light comes from Tommy’s hands. The injury is healed fairly quickly and Tommy pulls away.

   “Healing.” Techno comments after a minute. Tommy replies with a small hum, avoiding eye contact as if Techno’s gaze could turn him to stone. “Thanks, kid. Guess I don’t need to redo it.” The piglin brute comments, giving the younger a small chuff.

   “No prob- wait a second- I’m not a kid! I’m the biggest of men ever! I’m the most pog one too!” Tommy proclaims, proudly. “Ah, really? Any proof of that?” Techno asks, getting up and grabbing a cup of water as he talks. “Yep! You can ask my many wives.” He answers, not minding looking at the other now.

   “Sure. Child.”

   “Fuck you.”

…

   The house is fairly big. His room is cool too, comfortable blankets folded up on the bed so he can make a nest. It’s been two days at the Craft house, when there is a knock at his room door. “Come in!” He calls out before the person opens the door. It’s Mr. Cr- Techno, his teacher. “Need something?” The blond asks, setting his phone down.

   “Here.” The deadpan voice of the piglin hybrid says, as he hands Tommy a necklace. A necklace with an emerald dangling from a chain made of netherite. The avian hybrid carefully takes it and looks it over. It’s almost identical to theirs, except for the chain’s color and material. Without another word, he turns and leaves. The fuck?

…

   Tommy is exploring the house, around a week after arriving. The teen accidentally opens a door to find a room with a pile of golden trinkets with a huge comfortable-looking blanket resting on it and a few other things around: a bookshelf, a few swords on the walls, posters, ect… Sitting on the golden pile is the piglin hybrid, holding a book with his hair tie back in a messy ponytail. He has a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. He somewhat reminds Tommy of a librarian

   “Hello, kid.” Techno says when he notices the younger. “Sorry, I was just exploring and- I didn’t mean to- well-” He rambles, realizing it’s probably better to knock while looking around the house. “It’s fine. C’mere.” The pinkette interrupts, holding his hand up to cut off the younger’s rant before it even begins. Tommy, of course, listens and hesitantly climbs up the piglin’s hoard. “Want to hear a story?” He asks, patting the spot next to him.

   Tommy pauses at that. Techno, noticing the younger’s confusion, elaborates, “We’ll be reading this story next unit, so why not just get a bit ahead.” Tommy sits down next to him, glancing at the title of the chapter. Seeing the chapter title causes him to freeze.

“The Tragedy of Theseus and His Six Labors”

   Theseus. “Why Theseus specifically? There are a lot of stories and chapters.” Tommy asks, trying to mask the nervous tone that’s trying to sneak in. “It has many life lessons.” Techno answers nonchalantly, probably not noticing the tone or just not looking into it too much. He then starts reading. Tommy actually enjoys the time he spends listening to the story.

…

   One night, Tommy goes on patrol, sneaking out the house through a window to avoid setting off their alarm. Before returning, he makes a quick and discreet outfit change, stuffing his suit into his bag. He slowly climbs back into the window, not even halfway in when he hears a deadpan voice. Shit. “Out on a walk?”

   “Yep. Had a hard time sleeping.” He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Where’s that bruise from?” The piglin asks, gesturing to the mark on the left of his jaw. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel like he actually was asking. Almost like he already knew. Or Tommy is just being paranoid, which is completely possible.

   “Fell and hit it against a metal bench thingy.” Tommy answers, looking down. “What’s in the bag?” Techno asks, his monotone voice accompanied with a tiredness as he sips something from his cup. “Water and snacks for the walk.” The avian lies, biting the inside of his cheek.

   “Really, Theseus?” Techno asks, staring at the blond. “Yep, just wat-“ Oh. Shit. “How did you know?” Tommy asks, somewhat hesitantly. “Your personality, your connection to Ranboo ‘n Tubbo, and a few other things.” He answers, nonchalantly sipping from the cup. “Ah. Well then.” Tommy mutters, readjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder. There is a moment of silence that feels like it lasted a lifetime. “G’night.” Tommy mutters, walking up to his room to go to bed. If Techno hadn’t told the others by now, hopefully he doesn’t plan to.

…

   Tommy is called down for breakfast the next morning. Slowly, he gets out of bed and goes downstairs to the dining room. “Don’t forget that you have school today. I set your lunch on the counter.” Phil reminds him. Ever since Tommy started saying here, Phil has packed him lunches to bring to school. They don’t seem to be acting that differently. Chances are, Techno probably hasn’t told them about their talk last night. Huh.

Chapter Text

   It’s currently a B-Day. Tommy goes to third period, seeing Ms. IdeeKay standing up front with an excited look on her face. Tommy makes his way to the back, about to get his history book out. Before he does, he notices the words written on the whiteboard. GUEST SPEAKER! NO BOOKS NEEDED! A guest speaker? Huh.

   After a minute or so, the bell rings and the teacher happily starts, “Hello! Welcome. Welcome. We have an important speaker today! May I happily introduce, Pro-Hero Dream!” Tommy’s world practically freezes. For a split second, his eyes widen in horror, until he quickly masks his expression.

   All he has to do is keep his head down and his mouth shut. In walks the smiley masked motherfucker. Tommy’s posture immediately straightens on instinct. He can’t help the nerves that creep up his spine and wrap around his thoughts. “Hello, class. It’s great to see the future adults of Esempi. Possibly some of the future heroes.” Dream says, his voice sounding distant to the young blond.

   This is hell. Literal hell. Dream is going on a rant about how the hero system started and shit. Tommy had heard this lesson a million times. He had heard Dream explain this many times. Heard him go on and on about how important the hero system is. How great it is. Tommy remembers the first time he heard that rant. He remembers being proud to be part of that system.

   Some kids are whispering in the corner, but Tommy can hardly register it. He’s too caught up in his own thoughts. All the training. Rants. Lectures. Fights. “Quiet!” Dream’s voice cuts through his spiral, causing the young blond to flinch back despite being seated in the back. That must’ve been the second or third time he told those two to shut up for him to talk that loudly in a class. Tommy’s flinch didn’t go unnoticed, judging by Dream’s stupid fucking mask turning to him for a brief moment. A brief, terrifying moment. What if he recognizes Tommy? Shit. Thankfully, he looks away and continues his rant. After class, Tommy tells Ranboo about the whole Dream shit show over lunch.

…

   A few days later, Tommy still is having a hard time sleeping. He keeps thinking about Dream looking at him. Or at least looking in his general direction. Around midnight, he gets up and grabs a certain bag from under his bed. It has his old hero suit in it, the words “Child Soldier” still painted in white bold letters. Time to raise hell.

   He heads to a news station, having disabled the security cameras while on his way out of the Craft’s house. Is this dumb? Yes. Should he not be doing this? Oh, definitely not. With the broken frowny mask covering his face. Earlier, he had added black fabric under the mask so that people can’t see under it from the broken parts.

   This specific news station is known for its beef with the hero system. Dream would always tell Tommy to ignore any of the people from this place. Kinda funny how things work out, huh. He heads in, getting stopped at the elevator by a security guard. “You need to have a pass to go further than the lobby.” The guard comments, looking Tommy up and down. Tommy looks down at his own outfit, before responding,  “I’m not some cosplayer. I’m the real Red Chaos.” The guard huffs, obviously not believing him. “Okay, then book an appointment, ‘Red Chaos’.” He replies, crossing his arms.

   Instead of arguing, he leaves the building and climbs up the fire escape stairs to the top floor. Breaking the window, he enters directly into where they are currently live. The newscasters pause, everyone staring at Tommy. “Elevator trouble.” He explains briefly, grabbing a sofa and bringing it over to be in the shot. “I- Hello. Seems like we have a special guest speaker.” Clementine, the main newscaster, presents.

   “Hi. Red Chaos here. The real one, not one of those copies.” He introduces, looking directly at the cameras and stating, “Hey, Dream.” He crossed his legs, looking back at the main newscaster. “I think we went over your EggNet profile a little while ago.” She comments, glancing at the director. The director just shrugs from behind the camera.

   “How do we know you’re the real deal?” The other newscaster, Henry, asks, deciding to join in on this surprise interview. Some tech person quickly gives him a microphone, the director deciding to basically go with the flow. “Thanks. Well, I was abducted from a group house at five years old to be a healer. Then, when I was twelve, Dream ‘took me under his wing’ and taught me how to be a hero.” The ex-hero explains, leaning back against the backrest.

   “What was training like? How did you train to be a hero?” The moth hybrid questions. “Well, torture. Figuratively, and sometimes literally. I have been beaten a few times by Dream. It was hell. Something nobody, let alone a kid, should go through.” The avian hybrid responds, tilting his head slightly.

   “What prompted this drop in interview?” Henry asks, changing the subject. “My hatred for the heroes. And a bit to spite Dream.” Tommy replies, continuing with, “Aren’t we supposed to stay on the same topic for a bit longer than one question?” That causes Henry to look a bit embarrassed, grumbling something too quietly for the mic to pick up.

   “This is our first- unscheduled interview. My apologies. What were some of your training exercises?” Clementine asks, getting this back on track. “Well, there was the power suppressor training, torture training, Sleep and food depravation trainings, and a few more.” The young blond replies, after a moment of hesitant silence. “By torture training, do you mean he taught you how to torture people?” The cow hybrid, Henry, questions, glancing at Clementine. “No. Dream taught me how to withstand torture by- well… I still have some scars from him.” Tommy clarifies, a bit quieter than before. All those hours upon hours of hell. All engraved on his skin and mind.

   “I have realized that the villains cause less pain to both heroes and civilians than Dream has caused to me.” He explains, looking directly at the camera. “If it was so horrible, why didn’t you run away sooner?” Henry questions, a sympathetic look on both his and Clementine’s faces. “I’m a kid. Ever since I was five, I had been told that it was for the better of the people. That it was an honor. I was also told it was necessary to start building up my healing ability at a young age for the future, yet not that many healers who were kids were able to grow up to adulthood.” He explains, finishing with, “I had believed them until some anonymous people had me rethinking those excuses.”

   “And all the heroes are okay with using kids like this?” Clementine asks, her eyebrows still slightly furrowed. “I don’t think all the heroes know to be honest.” Tommy answers, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, We need to continue this interview later. We are running out of time.” The moth hybrid says, the director holding up a paper behind the camera. Dream was seen leaving Hero Tower.

   Tommy gives a small two finger salute, saying, “Well, I will see you all later.” He leaves out the previously broken window. He manages to find somewhere to change and make it back home- to the Craft’s house.

Chapter Text

   Tommy is training. He knows Ranboo and Tubbo don’t like when he trains for a long time, but he didn’t see anyone in the security camera room, so they probably won’t find out. Unless Techno notices he’s not home at the Craft house, and tells them, but he probably won’t. Hopefully not.

   He ducks when a green string shoots out from the robot based on Dream. Fire shoots out from behind him, barely missing his wing. He has to be ready. He has to be ready to face them. One small mistake is all it takes to lose a fight. He jumps, landing on Flame robot’s head, before jumping off. He can’t be the weak link. He has to make the heroes pay for all the shit they’ve done. A fireball hits Tommy’s chest, thankfully only a projection. He must’ve gotten a bit lost in his own thoughts.

   Tommy runs at the robot of Dream, a green string already launching towards him. He is right about to catch the string when the robots suddenly turn off. He turns to the door, seeing the Angel of Death standing in the doorway, a remote in hand. “Want water?” The villain- isn’t Tommy technically also a villain now?- asks, already holding a water bottle out. “I’m fine.” Despite the younger saying that, a water bottle is still placed in his hands.

   “You held your own against Flame and E-Pants pretty well a little while back.” Philza comments, leaning against a table of weapons. “Yep.” He replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Philza nods towards the door, gesturing for Tommy to follow him.

   The younger blond is led to a meeting. Its walls are colored black with white wooden panels lining the bottom. The floor is a smooth black quartz, reflecting the long, smooth, dark oak table and many chairs made from the same material with the same elegant style. On those chairs sits Blood God, Nemesis, Thanatos, some random minor villains, and… the Warden. The fuck? Tommy pauses in the doorway, staring at the hero who sticks out in the room of villains like a sore thumb.

   “Sit. Sit.” Philza’s voice is full of patience. Slowly, Tommy listens, holding his head down. As Phil sits at the head of the table, Blood God is staring at Tommy. “We need to get some files from the heroes. Thankfully, Our sources-” Phil gestures to Warden, “-has informed us that these files are kept in one of the heroes’ warehouses.” Tommy’s first official mission. He raises his hand slightly, asking, “Is T- Bombee and Ender going to be here? I know they don’t come on missions that much, but shouldn’t they be on standby at the base?”

   “We heard Flame could be there. He’s been in that file room a lot since that possible Red Chaos interview.” Angel of Death explains, continuing with, “This mission is a bit too dangerous to have minors there unless completely necessary.”

   The older blond then asks, “Who wants to come?” Tommy’s hand goes up along with the major named villains and a few of the random villains. Even with the masks, Tommy can feel Techno giving him a slightly pointed look. Thankfully, the piglin hybrid doesn’t call him out on this.

…

   After the meeting ends, Tommy grabs his things and leaves the base. He sneaks back into the Craft’s house carefully. He manages to get there before the other two Crafts. When they arrive, Phil heads to his room to sleep, while Techno goes to Tommy’s room. “This mission will be dangerous.” Techno explains, leaning against the teen’s doorframe. “Yep. I already proved I could handle it.” The younger replies, sitting up on his bed.

   Techno gives him a deadpan look in turn, explaining, “We don’t let Tubbo and Ranboo fight in these big fights. That’s not because we don’t think they can handle it, but because we don’t want kids dealing with that crap. You are a kid.” Fuckin’ villain and his morals.

   “I’m a big man, dickhead. Nobody is forcing me to do this, I should get to choose. I’ll leave if I feel like I have to.” Tommy argues, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If it gets too hard, come to me. Understand? Don’t leave by yourself.” The older orders, before walking out. Probably to go to bed, since it’s fairly late.

…

   Thankfully, the soreness in his limbs from training has resided. It’s been a few days since the meeting, and it’s finally time. They all gather in multiple groups, some random villain using xyr power to see through the walls of the warehouse. There is a small groan from one of the unconscious heroes tied up on the floor. There were two guarding the entrance. “Dream is there. He’s talking to Flame about something in file room R-205. Neither are facing the window.” Xe informs, glancing at Phil. Shitshitshitshit.

   “Blood God, you two keep them distracted, while Theseus and I grab the files.” Angel of Death orders. The other groups are already by the windows for whichever file room they were assigned to. Blood God boosts Tommy and the minor villain up through the window, Phil flying him and his son up afterwards.

“-n’t you trust me, Flame? Of course that wasn’t actually Red Chaos.”

“I do trust you, but I just want to make sure there wasn’t even a bit of truth in what he said.”

“About me torturing Red Chaos?”

“About the heroes using child soldiers.”

“Flame-”

Clang!

   The four land on the floor a bit louder than they meant. The two turn to face them, quickly getting in a fighting position. They need to find file R-C23. Blood God and that random villain are already fighting Dream and Flame. Tommy dodges a fireball as he digs through file cabinet after file cabinet. He can’t think about the tinge of fear that settled in his gut when he heard Dream’s voice. The terror that comes with seeing those damn green strings.

   He freezes. Flame is playing defense, a file held closely. File R-C23. There’s no way he knew they were going for that exact file. Guess his interview really did work somewhat. He launches himself at the demon hybrid hero, barely missing Techno trying to grab his collar.

   He ducks, the only thing on his mind is getting to Flame and taking that file. He has a mission to do. He needs to get that folder. Fame stumbles, not expecting that much determination and skill- despite having fought Theseus before. Guess Tommy’s training with the robots has paid off.

   He grabs onto the file before slamming his fist into the hero’s chest, successfully getting him to let go. A green string grabs his neck.

Fuck!

   He is pulled back by the horrid string, a gloved hand reaching for the file. Aim for the ankle! He slams his foot back into the green bastard’s ankle, quickly grabbing the hero’s wrist while he stumbles and flips him over his head onto the floor. While Dream is getting up, the young villain quickly grabs the file and feels Techno pull him back. “Go! Now!” The piglin barks the order. The younger avian doesn’t get a chance to respond as Chat comes under him and he drops through the shadows.

…

   It’s been a week. Techno doesn’t seem as mad anymore about Tommy jumping into the fight. Tommy is outside his ho- the house, practicing flying. He knows how to fly, but he is self taught and doesn’t fly that fast. A black minivan comes into the driveway, going temporarily unnoticed by the blond. He keeps trying to fly faster, unable to.

   “What are you doing there, Tommy?” Phil’s voice cuts through Tommy’s thoughts. “Practice.” The younger responds. “I see that. Why are you angling your wings like that? If you really want to catch a lot of air, it has to be at a different angle. And to avoid having sore wings.” Huh? Oh.

   “I guess I never really learned that.” Tommy mutters, landing on the floor in front of Phil. “I can teach you how. Get in.” He commands, nodding to his car. It sounds more like a suggestion than an order, but Tommy gets in regardless.

…

   The two arrive in district 50 after a long drive, Phil letting his wings out when they get there. “Ready?” The older asks, getting a nod is response as he locks up the car. He picks Tommy up, his hands holding under his armpits from behind. He takes off, holding Tommy out so the younger’s wings can flap. He swerves up and makes sure they’re high in the air.

“Angle your wings like mine, fledgling…”

   Phil teaches him for an hour, letting go a few times to give him a chance to try it out. It helps a lot, his wings not hurting afterward too. It felt like he was actually one of Phil’s sons.

Chapter Text

   It’s been around nine days since he last saw Flame. But he’ll probably see him soon again, since Tommy is currently sitting in Flame’s living room. The top heroes do have their own rooms in the hero tower, but Flame has always preferred staying in a house outside of the tower. Tommy had come here a few times back in his Red Chaos days, always accompanying Dream.

   Flame is the weak link. He knew he had his doubts. Tommy clutches the files he got. He went on his own solo mission to the healer’s files, which are hidden in one of the warehouses. He hears the front door open, while sitting on a beanbag in the front room.

   The house is fairly big, but is decorated like a college gamer’s house. There are beanbags for couches. A fold up table for a coffee table. At least there is a normal expensive TV mounted on the wall.

   Flame pauses in the living room doorway, his costume off. “Dream called you Sapnap sometimes. Right?” Tommy comments, his black frowny mask hiding his expression. “How did you-?” The hero starts, glancing at the words on Tommy’s red hoodie. “You.”

   “Me? I remembered coming with Dream here a few times.” The ex-hero explains, before continuing, “You’ve recently been looking for things to either confirm or disprove what I’ve said. But they don’t keep the healers’ real files in with those ones. They already had my healer files destroyed.” He lays the files he has across the table. Sapnap seems hesitant, eyeing the files.

   “Lilly. Cat hybrid. Age 12. Parents unknown. Healing type, stitches. Her power can stitch up a wound in seconds with only her bare hands, not needing supplies. Taken when she was 10.” Tommy picks up a file and reads, before showing Sapnap the official hero tower stamp. “I also wrote down which warehouse these are in on this paper.” The avian comments, setting a paper down on the coffee table.

   Sapnap slowly opens the files and mutters, “I- If you’re actually Red Chaos… The torture thing was dramatizing it… right? I remember him and you training by fighting each other… and sometimes going into a room and him locking it…” the doubt is evident in his voice, not fully believing that he is really Red Chaos.

   “Nope. Those hours in that room were him beating the shit out of me usually. I can prove my identity if you need me to.” Red Chaos offers, getting a slight nod from Flame. Tommy pulls out a knife and cuts the other’s hand before he can react. He puts the knife away and hovers his hand above the wound. A reddish gold surrounds both of their hands, the wound stitching itself back together.

   Everything freezes. Everything comes crashing down, and Tommy can see that in Flame’s face. Suddenly, Tommy is pulled into a slight hug. “You should head out. Dream is coming over to play some video games, I won’t tell him about your visit.” Flame informs him, pulling back from the hug.

He’s made a small change.

…

   Tommy doesn’t immediately head back. He checks himself for trackers, just to make sure the hug wasn’t Flame being an ass, and he makes a pit stop at the Syndicate base, his Red Chaos costume still on. It’s just a quick in and out. Leave some copies of the healers’ files there too. In and out.

   As he is about to set the files down, he has a sword held on the side of his neck. The Blood God’s sword. He holds up the hand with the files. He accidentally dropped the hero voice changer on his way here, and he doesn’t want to risk the older hearing his voice.

   A calloused hand takes the files. Tommy can hear the piglin opening the folders. “Why did you bring these?” Techno asks, moving the blade slightly away so the ex-hero can face him. His wings flare slightly in their covers. Techno had retracted the plates in his mask and did the shadow thing so he can only see two glowing red eyes. He points to the words painted on his red hoodie, before ducking and running past Techno, running out of the base.

   He, thankfully, doesn’t hear any footsteps behind him as he runs. Once he’s far away, he makes sure there are no trackers on him. He needs sleep. The avian hybrid changes out of his costume and heads home.

…

   Tommy wakes up to a hushed conversation coming from the first floor. Groggily, he gets up and heads downstairs. The three are huddled around files on the kitchen island, muttering to themselves. “Oh! Toms. Breakfast is on the table.” Phil informs, noticing Tommy at the bottom of the stairs. The younger heads to the table across from the island, the others joining him after a bit.

   “Everything okay?” Tommy asks after a moment of silence. Phil looks at Tommy and answers, “Of course. We just recently received some files from an unexpected source.” Oh, yeah. He hums in reply, taking a bite out of some toast. “How’s school going?” Phil asks, the conversation going on from there.

…

Dream stands in front of him.

Dream is angry.

Dream is yelling at him.

Glass breaks against his face.

The Crafts are angry.

   Tommy wakes up, tears stinging his eyes. His breath is uneven. Static comes from everywhere, overpowering any other sounds. His arms are slightly cut up, his fingernails being the culprits. Someone is holding onto his shoulders. A pinkette, eyebrows creased. They’re blurry. Everything is blurry.

BREATH!
BREATH!
CALM!
CALM!

   Many voices whisper-screams in his ears, harmonizing in a messy chorus. Chat. It’s Techno in front of him. His hair is down and messy, a fraction of sleep weakly clings to his eyes. Tommy woke him up. Shit. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” The monotone voice reassures, calloused hands holding onto his shoulders, propping him up. He looks down and closes his eyes, matching his breathing with his brother’s. His brother cleans and bandages his arms, as Tommy takes deep breaths.

He’s okay.

He’s safe.

…

The next day, there’s a stuffed cow on his bed, a golden bracelet on its neck.