Chapter Text
Tommy Theseus Innes was up to here with customer service. Between self-entitled middle-aged hags that yelled at him for spelling their name wrong (looking at you, Katheigh) or teenage girls who couldn’t make up their freaking minds (did you say you wanted a mocha cookie crumble frappechino, a caramel latte, or an iced tea, Jessica?), Tommy was about ready to throw away his apron (and himself off a cliff).
Tommy stood behind the counter of Captain’s Cafe, hating his customer service smile and ratty T-shirt. His badge read ‘Terrance’, even though that was not his name, and it was upside down. It very much reflected how he felt in that moment, wrong and on his head. He stared at the blond forty-two year old in front of him, who just so happened to be his self-absorbed landlord, Linda.
She was wearing a blue blouse with leggings that were a very disgusting shade of green. She wore those really annoying red shoes with sticks for heels, and Tommy vaguely wondered how women managed to stand on those. He had respect for them wearing those to places, but that was cancelled out for this woman because she was herself. He was glad to be the source of all her grey hairs.
“I’m sorry, Linda, but I cannot just run to the store to buy you protein powder for your coffee. I have a job to do, and I can barely afford your rent as it is.”
“The customer is always right!” she screamed, red in the face.
“In terms of taste,” Tommy corrected. “Not period. I’m sure your protein-powder-latte is splendid,” he spit out the word like it was scalding hot. “But it is not my responsibility to run to the store for you. You can have a regular latte and add protein powder yourself.”
Linda gritted her teeth, glaring at him. “Bring me your manager, I want to speak to her.”
Tommy sighed. “Puffy!” he called. She appeared a second later, her bag around her shoulder as she prepared to leave work for her other job. She worked at the hero tower, as some sort of manager or something, she had told him.
“Yes, Tommy?” she asked, glancing at his upset landlord tiredly. “I see. Go take care of the next customer, I’ll handle this situation.”
Puffy had Linda running out of the shop in less than two minutes, and the sight of her sprinting was enough to make Tommy double over in laughter while he was making a drink.
“I swear, customers don’t know how to behave,” Puffy grumbled, relaxing slightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy.”
“See ya, Puff,” he called back as she disappeared through the front door, a bell ring behind her.
His next customer was a teenage girl with curly red hair and daddy’s money. She asked for a million things, forced him to remake the drink three times, almost had him chuck her cup in her face before pointing her to the door and banning her for life. Thankfully, she was the last customer of his shift, and a man named Bad, the man who took over his shift, walked in.
Tommy tugged off his apron, mumbling angrily. “Freaking, bratty Barbie girl who can’t be simple for the life of her. I swear, I wanna take her two-hundred dollar purse and shove it up her-”
“Someone’s mad,” Bad observed, pulling his own apron on. “I have just the solution, thankfully.” He pulled a tupperware container out of his bag and presented Tommy with one of his signature muffins. “To make the going a little easier.”
Tommy accepted the muffin gratefully. “Thanks. I really needed this, your muffins are to die for.”
“Well, you don’t have to do that,” Bad chuckled. “I’m more than happy to bring you some in between shifts. That’s what friends and colleagues are for.”
The two of them knew he meant that in more ways than one. Bad- otherwise known as Wildvine, when he dons his mask- had saved Tommy’s skin several times, especially in the weeks following his debut. Bad and his partner, Prism, had looked after him and been there as he rose to have the reputation and be the person he was now.
The poorer districts loved him, some of the more wealthy districts did too, though not the ones on the highest end of society. He never really bothered with them, the heroes had that covered. And throughout the three and a half years since his debut, Bad had his back through it all.
Tommy hopped from roof to roof, keeping an eye on the city. His comm buzzed in his ear, and he could faintly hear his accomplices chatting away from the mic.
“Blast,” Tommy addressed one of them. “Are there any illegal activities to report?”
“Not at the mome-” a sharp screech interrupted him, and he continued. “-Nevermind. Small local business being robbed. Florence Flower Shop on Baker Street. On your six o’clock.”
“On it,” Tommy replied. “Silk?”
The accomplice in question let out a hum of acknowledgement.
“What civilians are wrapped up in it?”
“Two civilians, one appearing to be the owner, and the other her granddaughter.”
“Affirmative.”
Tommy dashed from the rooftops, appearing at the shop in no time. Peering down, Tommy spotted the entrance to the shop, and a shady van parked outside.
What’s the best way to get in undetected?
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[hum…]
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{pop}
A thin red line appeared in his vision, just under his feet and led to the other side of the rooftop. Tommy followed it as it led him to the back of the building and in through the back door. The line got thinner, which Tommy took to mean he needed to be quiet.
Tommy crept through the back room, around plant after plant, and stayed low to the ground as he crept into the main room. The storage room was to the side of the main room, whilst the front desk and register was pushed to the back wall. The robbers- a group of four, dressed in black masks and dark clothing, had their backs turned to Tommy as they pointed a gun at the old lady behind the counter. One robber was holding a girl who appeared to be in her twenties hostage.
Like a flash, Tommy was on them, knocking the guy out with the baton he kept on his belt. The thieves whipped around to face him, and one particularly short one was met with a baton to the face before Tommy turned to fight the other two. The one with the gun fired a shot, and Tommy felt an exploding pain in his leg, although it was placed more to the side, so it probably just grazed him. In retaliation, Tommy swept the man’s legs out from under him, pinning the man to the ground with his foot and maneuvering slightly as the last robber dove for him. Grabbing the man’s wrist as he passed, Tommy pushed him to the ground beside his buddy, holding the two down.
“Miss,” Tommy addressed the young woman, who was checking on her grandmother. Said girl looked up at him. “Grab the rope from my belt and help me tie these morons up.”
The girl nodded, doing as instructed. Tommy held the two still as she wrapped the rope around them and tied a secure knot. Turning to the two unconscious robbers, Tommy dragged them over and leaned them up against their friends.
Facing his palms to the sky, Tommy felt a faint red aura surround his hands, hovering a few inches above them. Faintly, he envisioned another sturdy rope, and he watched as his power summoned said item and dropped it into his waiting hands. Tommy tied the other two up, wrapping the two ropes together to make it also secure.
“Oh my, Primes!” The granddaughter exclaimed, and Tommy’s head snapped up to find her gaping at the blood trickling down his pant leg. “Phoenix, you’re hurt!”
Tommy chuckled. “Yep. Guns do that.”
The old woman looked at her granddaughter a second before digging a first aid kit out from under the counter. Walking to the other side of the counter, she gestured for Tommy to sit down. Rolling up his brown pant leg, Tommy let the woman go to work, cleaning and wrapping his wound. “Thank you,” he mentioned, voice distorted with a metallic tinge through his voice moderator.
“Of course, dear,” the woman nodded, soft smile outlining her features.
“You saved our lives,” the younger woman added. “We owe you at least that.”
“Just doing my job,” Tommy responded.
“A job no one forced you to take, but you did anyway. And for that, everyone will forever be grateful.”
Tommy smiled, though they couldn’t see it behind his mask. “Of course.”
The young woman grinned at him, plucking a pink carnation from a nearby bouquet and scissors from the countertop, and she snipped at part of the stem. Carefully, she tucked the flower into his hair, which was still hidden beneath his hood, and looked away before she saw anything she wasn’t supposed to (e.g, his hair).
Tommy’s hand drifted to rest atop the flower, feeling every petal. “Wha?”
The girl shrugged. “It’s a carnation. A flower often used to indicate gratitude.”
Tommy nodded at her just as the old woman finished tying the bandage. He got to his feet slowly, wincing as he bumped his injury against the counter. “Thanks for patching me up ladies. Make sure to call the police, and I should really be on my way. Crime never sleeps.”
The two women nodded. “Be careful, Phoenix.”
Tommy grinned, eyes glinting. “No promises.” He turned around and disappeared out the door.
“So that went well,” Blast mentioned in his ear.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever Tubs.”
“Hey! No identities in costume!” Silk scolded.
“I am too big a man to be told what to do,” Tommy argued.
“Uh-huh, sure, and I’m the tooth fairy.”
“You’re too tall for that, you absolute beanpole of a human,” Tommy retorted, hopping up a dumpster and climbing onto another rooftop. “If anyone’s the tooth fairy, it’s Tubbo.”
“No identities!” Tubbo screeched. “And I am not the tooth fairy.”
“Sure.”
“I will become the tooth fairy and steal all your teeth if you don’t shut up.”
“I don’t think I’d like that very much. I’m very attached to my teeth.”
“Well maybe if you-”
Tommy muted his comm.
Taking a seat at the edge of the rooftop, he stared up at the stars wistfully. “No matter where I am,” Tommy sighed to himself. “They’re there too.”
He laid back on his back, legs still dangling over the side of the roof, and thought to himself.
Yes, it’s true, he was Phoenix, the city-state of L’Manburg’s most beloved vigilante. He had been on the public’s radar since his debut three and a half years ago, but it took a few months before he had garnered the reputation he had now. It was only after a particular black-market bust that was running a trafficking business that he had fully earned the respect of the people.
And brought some changes along with him.
Tommy had been the one to reach out to other vigilantes. Before him, most of them really kept to themselves, did their own things. There were some vigilantes that stuck in pairs- like Prism and Wildvine- but for the most part, they were flying solo.
And then Tommy came along.
He reached out to every vigilante he could, gathering them all at a certain warehouse in district eighteen to discuss a few things. He had suggested some sort of support system, a network where the lot of them could get in contact with each other easily should they need one another’s help with a case or a fight.
There was some initial hesitation, but they agreed, and now, it wasn’t uncommon for vigilantes to team up when fighting a hero or villain.
Tommy found Tubbo and Ranboo not too far into his ‘career’ (if you could call it that). Tubbo found him first, having heard about his reputation and the things he was doing.
(“You have to understand that I can’t just work with any random person,” Tommy explained, staring at the stubborn, bull-headed brunette in front of him.
“I know. But I want to help. I can’t be out in the field, I can’t go get into fights, but I can help you with yours. I have anything you might need- tech-support, money, a base, anything.
Tommy sighed. “Fine. But the second I have a reason not to trust you, you’re out.”
“I would be surprised if that wasn’t the deal,” Tubbo had replied.)
Tubbo never gave him that reason, but Tommy wouldn’t kick him out now even if he killed someone.
Ranboo had come along later, A boy, freshly the adopted brother of a kind hearted woman with a bakery, had come with her to one of the meetings. His sister- Niki, vigilante name, Tide- had brought him along, introduced him to the others, and he became all starry-eyed. He and Tommy had just clicked, and Ranboo became the next addition to their team.
“Are you dead?” a familiar voice teased.
“Feel like it,” Tommy sighed, looking up. There he was, the hero, Void.
Void was an oddity. He was the only hero Tommy really knew- or had actual interactions with- that didn’t have a particular vendetta against vigilantes. Tommy heard that Ares didn’t either, but Tommy hadn’t really had to face him.
Void hadn’t been opposed to him originally, but they hadn’t always been friends. That started after a particular incident, where Tommy had found the hero unconscious and bleeding out. Badly.
(“I got a ping from here,” Tommy whispered, ducking into a dark alley. He knew this alley, it let out a few blocks down from his place. Looking around to find where his comm had pinged him, Tommy froze at the sight before him.
The hero Void, sprawled out beside a dumpster, his blood splattered against the wall like paint. He looked like a mess.
Tommy rushed over, examining the hero. He wouldn’t take off his mask, that’s something he didn’t really feel comfortable doing, but he would help with the injuries.
“Silk,” Tommy called, tapping into his comm.
“Yes?”
“Bring me the stacked first aid kit.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, it’s for… someone else.”
“On it.”
Silk appeared a few minutes later, kit in hand, using one of Tubbo’s devices. He gaped at the gruesome sight before him, but wordlessly passed Tommy the kit. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Ranboo mentioned, holding a hand to his mask. “I’m gonna go.”
“Okay, be safe.”
“Right.”
Tommy went to work, pulling back the fabric on the hero’s shirt and revealing a gaping hole in his stomach. Oh, a kit would not fix this.
Tommy took a deep breath, preparing himself. He had not used this power in a while, figuring it was too dangerous for people to know he had, and if this hero found out he used it, it could be bad, but… he was dying. Tommy couldn’t just let that happen.
Placing his hands on the wound, Tommy pressed his thumbs against the two sides of it, concentrating on the energy flowing through his veins. His hands pulsed a soft orange color that got brighter and stronger and brighter and stronger the more he used his ability. Suddenly, there was a flash, and Tommy had to blink the light away from his eyelids.
The pain was immense. Tommy doubled over, clutching his stomach and taking deep, ragged breaths as his stomach felt like it was being ripped out of his body. Tears filled his eyes briefly, but he blinked them away, gritting his teeth with only sharp inhales coming in between.
Then the pain was gone and Tommy relaxed, sitting back up with a wince. He hated his power. Aside from the dangers of having a power as rare as healing, his had one of the worst side effects. He could briefly feel the victim’s pain from when they got the injury, and the worse the injury is, the longer the pain lasts.
Looking back at Void, Tommy found that the wound had healed, leaving a long, healthy pink scar in its place. He was still covered in blood and would no doubt be sore for a while, but Tommy could help with the blood.
Reaching into his kit, Tommy pulled out a bottle of water and a small rag. Pouring a bit of the water onto the rag, Tommy methodically went about scrubbing off the blood from the hero’s clothes. Around five minutes of this later, Tommy heard, “‘Wha ar’ you doin’?”
Tommy looked up, meeting the eyes of the formerly unconscious hero, who stared at him with weary eyes. He slurred his words and still looked to be in pain, but he was awake.
And then he recognized Tommy’s get-up.
Eyes widening, Void whispered. “Phoenix? What? What do you want?”
Tommy scoffed. “Maybe to not find you half dead in an alleyway in my district,” Tommy commented. “There are better ways to die.”
Void was silent for a minute, realization dawning on him. “How am I alive? That- that injury should’ve been fatal!”
Tommy sighed, giving him a look. “Dunno. Maybe someone got to you before me with a healing or regen power, but you totally would’ve died. You’re very lucky.”
Void sighed. “I don’t feel lucky.”
“Yeah, well, almost dying will do that.”)
After that, the two hit it off and had been friends ever since.
“At least you didn’t almost die. I swear I still hear Lady Death calling my name.”
Tommy chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Tell her I said take Sprint instead.”
“We all know that the number three hero will go when his time is up. But the man is annoying, I wish his time would stop taking its time.”
Tommy smirked. “Tell me a story about Sprint being stupid.”
“I have too many,” Void chuckled. “Once, he, Inferno, and Static had gotten into this prank-war thing, and Sprint accidentally pranked himself. With a paint can. He spent a month trying to get green paint out of his carpet.”
Tommy snorted. “Blackmail?”
“Absolutely.” Void pulled up a photo of the #3 hero covered in green paint, smiley face mask practically glaring at the camera.
Tommy pulled out his own phone. “Airdrop,” Tommy mentioned, bumping his phone against Void’s. The screen rippled, and Tommy saw the picture pop up. “I love you,” he deadpanned, staring at the screen. “This is perfect.”
Void snorted. “I have to go. Catch ya on the flip side.” Void shot him awkward finger guns and leapt to the next building.
Tommy sighed, laying back and staring at the stars once more.