Chapter Text
The night was quiet, though it wouldn’t be for too much longer. Red grunted as he ran, throwing himself over the side of a building quickly. Clinging to the ledge with one hand, he dangled before dropping on the top of a rusty A.C. unit right beneath him. He inhaled before he jumped yet again, just barely catching himself on the ledge of a rusty fire escape, the old metal groaning precariously beneath his weight as his body slammed painfully into the metal.
Red hissed, stunned for a second before he managed to haul himself up.
He didn’t exactly have a moment to spare. He knew the heroes would be on his ass soon. He at least hoped the flash bang would give him a few more minutes to spare. The building he scaled was abandoned, though it wasn’t empty. He made it down two flights of the fire escape before he found an open window, slipping in silently, disappearing into the depths.
The broken glass and trash crunched quietly beneath his feet. He ignored the glaring eyes of a few shadows that he passed, huddled in a half-circle, eating, it seemed. A few men, with deep sunken eyes, one snarled at him as he passed, flashing yellowing, blackening teeth in Red's wake. On the first floor, there was a wiry woman, dancing, humming tunelessly as she swayed from side to side. Red paused, watching her for a second, then he continued. Red stopped by one of the first-floor windows, watching quietly for a while. There were no beating wings, no quiet slithering, or any signs of life. He was sure there would be enforcers out…but his pursuers were gone. After another beat, he slid out a slab of plywood tied haphazardly by a piece of cord, settling back out into the night
Tommy huffed, passing between alleyways as quickly and quietly as he could. He kept out of the main streets, already well deserted by this time of night. Usually, there were some stragglers, but if the number of enforcers he’d seen already said anything, they had already been picked up and taken to jail. He did not have time for that. He froze, pressing himself tightly against a wall when he saw one of the enforcers pass by the opening of the alleyway. He couldn’t exactly tell what the hell they were, if they had any powers, or if they were a blanker. He glared at them, watched as they paused, looked around, before they whipped out their phone, leaning against the wall right beside the entrance. Typical, of course, they had to block his damned way. Tommy took a few seconds before yet again he took careful steps back, turning on his heel and starting his walk again.
It took him twenty minutes and far too many close calls to finally get close to his apartment. Tommy scaled the half-wall between his apartment building and one of the shops just behind. His backpack landed first with a heavy thump, and he followed right behind. There was a short field, really just a small patch of yellowing grass, leading to a small hill, and then the first set of balconies. Tommy…hated the slope, his Converse slipping a bit uselessly on the well-worn grass, the slick dew from the rain earlier that day not helping. He prayed for good traction when he reached the first balcony, climbing up, balancing precariously, before he made another jump, grabbing onto the little ledge of the next small balcony of the apartment above.
Three up, one to the right, he slung his leg over onto the cluttered balcony. Michael’s small garden was getting a bit out of hand- the boxes with planted potatoes, a few herbs, and onions were taking up nearly half the balcony's space. Tommy made an admittedly unmanly noise as he tripped over a watering can, cursing as he nearly fell face-first into the sliding glass door. 'I really had to get Michael to clean out here-' The thought stuck as he quietly (as quietly as he could, at least with how the thing liked to get stuck halfway open) slid open the glass sliding door, slipping inside the darkened apartment.
Tommy’s first step was taking off his shoes, Rose’s rule near automatic as he bent over, his laces undone and shoes in his hand. His second…going to his closet by the front door. In the foyer (Tommy felt the space was far too small to call it that; Michael liked how fancy it felt, though), they had a shoe rack, Rose had two of the shelves, Tommy had one, his Converse were deposited beside a pair of sneakers he had, and his work shoes. The closet was opened, a small set of plastic drawers took up a majority of the space, the hamper bag Tommy kept his dirty clothes in was smushed right beside it, nearly full, Tommy settled his backpack on top of the drawers, taking out the soiled clothes he had inside, making sure to empty its pockets of anything. God knew Michael would give him a hard time like last time if he forgot a knife or his cash in his clothes.
Tommy paused, hesitating for a second, and then he rifled through the drawers. He must’ve been too loud, because the next thing he knew, Michael was behind him. He was quiet when he wanted to be; the carpet helped with that. Tommy felt him, though, the heavy feeling that usually came with one of Michael's stares. It was late, Michael had work in the morning, but Tommy knew he wouldn’t sleep, not without knowing Tommy was ready.
“I’m going to shower.”
Tommy muttered quietly, not trying to wake up Rose too, turning to look at Michael’s shadowed form. He could tell Michael was out of it, yet he gave a quiet nod. Reaching over Tommy to grab the back brace hanging up alongside his clothes.
“Alright, don’t take too long."
Came Micahel’s voice, a bit rough, low, and soft as he nodded to the couch.
"I'll make you something to eat, too."
Tommy huffed at his roommate, a quiet, grateful noise; he wouldn't keep Michael waiting.