Chapter Text
Ah winter..
The time of year most people look forward to. A time where companies raced to push overly expensive, yet festive products for the season. Rebranding older things as new things.. just with a bigger price tag attached to it. A time where Christmas music played from somewhere. Whether pouring from the open doors of a street shop, played overhead through speakers as a playful backdrop or through the radios of passing cars. There was a lot to love about the season… and a lot to hate.
Tommy hated this time of year, not for the reasons you expect. He wasn’t some asshole who hated Christmas and everything it stood for. He didn’t necessarily hate the obnoxious Christmas music that blared 24/7 and he could get over the smell of pine. It was irritating but it wasn’t why he hated winter.
The bench’s wood creaked underneath him, the cold seeping through his ragged jeans. His hands clenching his arms as he shivered, the wind’s nasty bite nibbling at his exposed skin. The newspaper to his left half damp from the excessive snow before the wind picked up once again. Taking away the only form of comfort he could afford.
He hates winter because it increases his odds of dying out in the streets. As if that possibility needed to be any higher. Hated the snow that soaked his clothes and left him worse off than before. It had already been hard enough to find places for him to sleep, the only risk at that time being that he could get mugged for what little he owned or just straight up killed. Now, finding a shelter that was warm enough would be added to his list.
The light above him flickered, the metal creaking as the ice bit at its surface. Under all the holiday cheer of the season, was nothing but desperation for survival for the homeless.
Tommy couldn’t remember his parents, hell— He wondered if he ever had any to begin with. Maybe he was dropped off by the stork and nobody wanted to claim him. So he was thrown away just like all the other unwanted children. In the back of his mind, though he knows that sounds ridiculous. Storks were just a made up story that parents told their kids. However, it soothes his brain to think he never had parents in the first place. The idea of being abandoned hurts worse.
He’s only 15 but he likes to think he’s good at this survival thing. He must be, of course, as he’s been surviving off the streets for about 5 years now. He can, vaguely, remember the orphanage he once lived in. It’s all blurry in his mind but certain smells always seem to bring him back. The smell of dust, chemicals and antiseptic. It’s weird.. but familiar nonetheless.
Tommy’s hands fell away from his arms, his fingers red from the cold that whipped against his body. Night seemed to be creeping upon him faster than he thought, the sky's colors fading from its reds and oranges to a deeper purple. He needs shelter, preferably one with walls.
Carefully, as if he was made of glass, he peeled himself from the frost bitten bench and stood tall. His knees creaked as this feeling of discomfort shot up his spine. A jacket, the one thing he could wish for. All he wants is a nice, preferably red, wool lined jacket that would protect him from this cold. Well, maybe some shoes and new jeans would be greatly appreciated too.
Right now, he wants to get warm. Finding a shelter would be a future problem! He wanted— no needed to warm his hands and potentially dry his soaked socks in a shop’s backroom. That way, at least, he’ll get feeling back in his toes and walking won’t feel like he’s walking on bits of glass.
He slowly raised his head, eyes flickering to the lines of street shops. Grimacing, he began to slowly move. Placing one foot after the other as he surveyed the shops through the glass.
A pet shop? No, that wouldn’t do. Last time he walked into a pet shop, the owner threw him out. Something about tracking mud into his store. He wasn’t paying attention.
A flower shop? Not possible. The kid behind the register is already cleaning up for the night. He’d rather not take the chances of being (hypothetically) strangled by some kid. Tommy would totally strangle someone if they came in while they were cleaning up.
A book store? Not happening. Not that he’s had a bad experience inside of one.. he just hates reading. That and there’s no bathroom in that particular store. Which is, quite frankly, ridiculous.
He feels himself stop and stare up at the sign above his last option. It’s some generic coffee shop. One that he's never exactly seen before either.. which must mean it’s a newer shop.
It wasn’t ideal but what choice did he have left? He could turn around, maybe walk to a different street. Find some gross gas station he could hide out in. He slowly shook his head at the idea. It would be a waste of energy and it meant more time out in this weather.
He stood outside the shop for a solid two seconds before walking forward, pressing his hand to the glass door and swinging it open. The warmth hit his face almost instantly as the door swung shut behind him. Comforting his frost bitten skin as it drew him closer. He let out a quiet sigh.
First things first.. bathroom. He looked around, never leaving the spot in front of the shop’s door. Just in case. His eyes roamed the shop. He found himself growing more and more frustrated. There was no way this place didn’t have a bathroom! This was a coffee shop— there’s bound to be one!
His eyes, eventually, landed on a woman about twice his height. A sheep hybrid from the look of her. She stood behind the counter, talking behind herself to someone he couldn’t see. He forced himself to move forward. He would just have to ask and prayed that she didn’t kick him out as soon as she noticed his.. rather shabby appearance.
She turned back just as he approached, a smile crossing her face as she spoke, “Hello! Welcome! What would you like today, Sir?” Her voice was soft, yet delightfully cheerful. Like it wasn’t almost 8pm at night.
“Actually, I was looking for your bathroom?” He muttered, keeping his eyes down. His hand fidgeting with the loose strings of his shirt. She didn’t seem to mind as she pointed to the corner of the shop.
“Down that hallway, first door on the left.” He nodded slowly and quickly dragged himself away. Praying that if he moved quickly enough, she wouldn’t have time to kick him out. He tried to ignore that look on her face just out of the corner of his eye. Pity.
He doesn’t need her pity. Her pity would get him nowhere.
His hand pushed against the bathroom door, the door swinging inwards. Instead of a row of stalls like he might have assumed.. it was instead a single toilet shoved in the corner of a.. already small room. He’s sure that if he stood in the middle of the room with his arms fully extended.. he could probably touch both sides of the wall. Whatever, it was good enough.
The bathroom door clicked shut, locking him inside as he plopped down onto the toilet lid. He wasted no time slowly peeling his socks off. Maybe damp wasn’t.. completely accurate. His socks were more soaked through, leaving him feeling like he had walked through oceans instead of the snow. He hastily pulled some paper towels from the bathroom’s dispenser, clamping them around the socks. Okay— maybe he should have rung them out first.
Stupid paper towels. What was the point of these scraps if they instantly soaked through?? Not to mention they were practically breaking apart in his hands. Okay— Okay— He rolled his eyes and stared directly at the hand dryer bolted to the wall.
As much as he didn’t want to use that stupidly loud, stupidly dirty machine.. These towels weren’t doing shit. Plus, his hair was completely soaked and unless he wanted to sit there for like.. 20 minutes using these towels to dry his hair.. he knew what he needed to do.
So there he was, sitting on his knees— pressed awkwardly against the wall as he sat under this hand dryer— letting it blow dry his hair. Prime, he felt stupid. He’s done many stupid things on the streets, humiliated himself more times than he can remember.. but this? This felt worse. Nobody was even in here and it felt worse.
After what felt like an eternity.. which had only been like 4 minutes, he pushed himself up and just nearly hit his head off the dryer. His hands gripping the counter as he looked at the mess that was his hair now. It wasn’t wet, which is good, but it did look like he lost a fight with an angry raccoon. No matter how much patting down or running his fingers through his hair would fix it either.
Eventually, his socks were— okay well they weren’t dry but they weren’t soaked anymore so a win is a win. He slowly peeled them back on, cringing at the cold feeling shooting up his feet. Great.. maybe now he looked more normal and less homeless? He stood in front of the mirror and really looked at himself..
No, still looked just as homeless. He sighed in defeat and quickly turned back to the bathroom door. Pushing it open and carefully walking down that hallway. He didn’t want to.. quite leave the shop yet. He knows this sort of decision will kick him in the ass later but.. again. Future Tommy problem.
He quietly made his way over to the corner of the store, sliding into a booth. He’ll just soak up the heat before sliding out back into the night. Another note is just how.. normal it feels to sit in a booth. Not for the reasons he is using it for but just the general idea.
He turned his head towards the hooked up TV that hung from the ceiling’s wall. It looked to be running commercials for mostly the holidays. He rolled his eyes but continued to watch. Beats looking down at the floor or worse.. making direct eye contact with somebody.
He zoned back in as the channel switched over to the local news. An urgent warning flickering onto the screen.
We interrupted your latest broadcast to warn anyone in districts 8 and 9. The villain known as Siren has engaged in a fierce battle with N.1 Hero, Dream. Citizens are being urged to return to their homes and stay indoors until the fight is over. Please stay safe.
The broadcast flickered back to normal programming as people in the shop began to chat among themselves. Hastily finishing their drinks.. food and whatever else. All before picking themselves up and heading for the door. Tommy shrunk back into his seat, running his hands against his face.
Why now of all times?
It wasn’t uncommon for villains to get into fights in the lower income districts. Hell, this was probably the fifth attack in the last two months that he’s heard of. However, instead of feeling scared about these attacks.. like any other sane person would, he was just annoyed. He finally found a place that was decent enough! No weird smells, no roach infestation or anything like that! The paper towels were the only thing wrong with this place!
But of course, Tommy could never win.
As if on cue.. Well nearly 5 minutes since the warning was issued, the sirens started to blare across the city. Their high pitched ringing noise filling the nearly empty streets.Tommy understands this district is poor. Of course, he grew up here. But was asking for an alarm on time too much to ask?
Tommy shrunk further into the booth, kicking his feet up on the opposing seat. His hands running down his face as he tried to come up with a game plan. Maybe he could sneak back into that bathroom? The shop hadn’t been terribly packed but it would give him just enough time to slip back in through the panic.
No. No way. That bathroom was tiny.. hardly any room to lay down in too. Unless he wanted to worsen his back by sleeping on the uncomfortable tile.. he’d have to think of something else.
Think! Think!
A soft hand gently grabbed ahold of his shoulder, jostling him from his mind as he scrambled up. His eyes flinging up to whomever had apparently wanted his attention. Maybe some random stranger? Maybe someone asking for spare change that he didn’t have?
“Oh! Sorry about that—“ The lady, Puffy, said with a small chuckle. How he hadn’t noticed her nametag before.. he has no idea. It’s a nice name.. but he’s never been good with them. He’ll probably end up forgetting it. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She sounded almost embarrassed, removing her hand from his shoulder.
“Ah— no worries..”
“You should get heading home, especially with the weather we’re supposed to get….” She spoke, a tense look crossing onto her face as she looked him up and down from where he sat. He tries not to shrink further in on himself as she stares. He didn’t need some random stranger picking apart his whole life based off his clothes.
“Right.. family.” He chuckled, though it lacked any humor, “Yup. Gotta get home.” He pushed himself up from where he had been awkwardly sitting. Careful as to not pull anything. God, he has no plan! Most people had left the shop already only leaving him and like.. two employees. So he couldn’t just sneak away into the bathroom like he thought he could.
“Wait—“ Puffy spoke, reaching her hand out before stopping herself. Tommy stood in front of the barista with a puzzled expression. Did she not just ask him to get going? She seemed rather.. nervous. Maybe even concerned. Something unfamiliar to him entirely. “Actually, it might be too dangerous for you to walk home! How about you stay in the shop tonight?”
Tommy must have given her an odd look because the look she gives him is almost pitiful. His eyes fall to the floor between them, anything to not meet her gaze. He hated that look. He got it far too often and it used to feel good that someone felt bad for him. But now? It felt humiliating. That someone knows he is unwanted.
“I— what?”
“Sorry, I just..” She paused for a moment, her expression unreadable. It’s like she was looking at him under a microscope. Studying him as if he were a new species rather than some.. homeless kid. “I thought more about it just doesn’t seem right to send you out with that fight going on—.” She sounds a little frantic. Like she doesn’t have a good excuse to make him stay.
Tommy’s eyes didn’t meet hers, his hands gripping the sides of his tattered shirt. He wasn’t ready for this possibility, it wasn’t something he really thought could happen. Not to him, at least. The voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to not trust her. How this was how kids ended up in garbage bags.
He bit his lower lip, questioning the thoughts that swirling in his head. Weighing the pros and cons of this.. weird situation he had been thrown into. If he took the offer, he would have a place to sleep in. A place without holes in the walls. A place where the cold couldn’t seep into his skin. He would wake up without the possibility of a wild dog trying to bite off his leg or some homeless guy trying to steal what little he had.
The only con being that she could very well kill him and nobody would notice. The very thought terrified him to his core. He had long come to terms with the idea of death. Living on the streets.. it’s one of life's greatest mercies. Being able to be swallowed up by death’s cold grasp instead of fighting to survive.
He finally looked up, meeting her eyes and suddenly he felt so much smaller. He hadn’t been good at holding conversations, even simple one word answers made his skin crawl.
So, instead of words, he just wordlessly nods his head. Her shoulders dropped and she allowed herself to look less tense.
She nods back to him and then points behind her shoulder, ignoring the ever growing sounds of wailing from the alarm. “Alright, follow me.” She spoke softly as if speaking any louder would shatter him. It sort of annoys him but he chooses not to speak on it.
She leads him back behind the counter and passes the fridges full of stock. Tommy makes note of everything, a stupid habit he picked up earlier in life. They make it to a quiet corner of the shop. Free from the quiet buzzing of machines. Puffy pulls a key from her pants pocket and unlocks a narrow door.. which leads to an even narrower hallway.
“Back before we bought the building,” She speaks, almost startling him. To which she thankfully doesn’t notice, “It used to be a small bed and breakfast. These stairs,” She pointed towards the dark, narrow staircase that led up into darkness, “ Lead up to bedrooms. We haven’t had the time to clean any of these out.”
He has no idea what a bed and breakfast is but he doesn’t ask her for more details. He doesn’t need to know what is not important to him. He just needs to survive. “The old owners didn’t clean them out either so we just have beds sitting up here.” She finishes, reaching out and flickering the lightswitch on. Allowing a warm, golden glow to fill the hallway up.
Maybe it’s like a motel, Tommy thinks to himself quietly. It sure as hell feels like it. Throw in some mold and busted lights and it’ll feel like the real deal.
“We’ll call your folks up in the morning.” Though, when she speaks those words.. She doesn’t sound confident. He doesn’t think about it.. he doesn’t want to. He just nods his head to her politely. He doesn’t truly understand but if it means she’ll leave him alone faster than.. yeah. “For now, just try and get some sleep.”
He, again, nods as she steps aside. Allowing him to step through the doorway and wonder immediately if he’s doing the right thing. The wood creaks under each step he takes and the railing, which he grabbed onto, shakes under his hand. He just hopes nothing breaks— he doesn’t have the money to offer any repairs and she’ll instantly kick him to the curb.
Reaching the top, he stares down the empty and, quite frankly, creep hallway. Like someone would jump out at him and he would just die. No stabbing, no screaming. Just instant sudden death.
He shakes his head, takes a deep breath and slowly trudges through the hallway. Eyes scanning each room with their doors already open. Before he knows it, he’s reached the end and it appears that these are his only options.
He ends up taking the room closest to the window on the front of the building. Just in case he needed to make an emergency exit. It’s never happened and yet, every place he’s been in.. he does the same thing. Searching for an escape. It’s more a habit than anything. Maybe it was the paranoia that filled his brain with every worst case scenario. He just needed to feel safe.
He stands in the doorway, staring into the room as gentle moonlight filled the small room. There wasn’t much inside really. Just a double bed that sat pushed up against the window, a dusty side table, a small-ish dresser and one mirror that hung from the wall. It’s far nicer than anything he’s ever seen before. Even the dust didn’t bother him.
He slowly made his way inside, the carpet rubbing against his swollen feet almost uncomfortably. He needed to get some shoes. It’s something he’s been telling himself for.. weeks now? Months maybe. Money is hard to come back and the shoes he finds out in dumpsters are all but rubbish.
The bed creaked under him as he sat down. His hands running over the quilt underneath him. It was a weird texture that his hands did not like at all but he has little choices right now of where to sleep. He’ll just deal with it silently like he always does.
He quietly sighs before allowing him to kick his feet up onto the bed. His back, for the first time in a while, didn’t scream out in pain. Of course the aching wouldn’t leave but it didn’t leave him feeling breathless. Didn’t leave him crying out at the littlest movement like it burned him. It was.. nice. He stared back at the ceiling, hands over his stomach.
This.. felt too good to be true, He thought quietly, his hands clenching and unclenching his rags that he called clothes.
It had to be.
There was no way this was real.