Work Text:
Tommy had a habit of accidentally putting himself between danger and Purpled. A very frequent, annoying habit. Just- wedging himself very discreetly in front of a sword or axe while running his mouth about some bullshit that meant nothing.
Purpled noticed, mostly because wedging himself in front of a weapon usually meant Tommy shoved him out of the way. Sometimes it was just a little nudge, sometimes he full on elbowed him a couple steps. It was getting just a little irritating, especially because Tommy almost never noticed he was there. Like he was just some big dumb object to work his way around as he talked.
Purpled wasn’t quite sure what was happening now.
Wilbur had come out of nowhere, brandishing a sword and demanding something Purpled couldn’t quite hear over the clash of metal on metal. He’d scored a couple scratches and nicks, but nothing horribly consequential. Not until he’d been slammed against a tree by an unlucky misstep and almost cleaved in half.
Except Tommy was there. Randomly. Maybe walking with Wilbur, maybe just in the area. He’d stepped in front of Purpled with his arms outstretched like he was about to hug someone. Wilbur’s sword stopped short.
“Woah there, man. What’s all this?” He lowered his arms, glancing between them. “Did you piss in his tea or something?”
Purpled shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and like he hadn’t been on the verge of death three seconds ago. Wilbur curled his lip at Tommy. “Get out of the way.”
“No thank you!” Tommy grimaced momentarily, but quickly regained his easy composure. “This patch of grass is the best patch of grass. I’m not letting you have this truly wondrous patch of grass.”
“Move.”
“The patch of grass would miss me, Wilbur!” Tommy’s arm was very, very slowly inching towards Purpled’s. “You don’t deserve her! She has a credit score of over-”
Wilbur shoved Tommy aside, raising his weapon again.
“Wilbur!” Tommy’s screech caught both of them off guard. Purpled’s ears flattened. Wilbur almost dropped his sword. “I told you to fucking lay off!”
Wilbur’s eyes were wide, dark feathers twitching apprehensively like he wasn’t sure if he should consider Tommy a threat or not. He twisted the sword’s hilt in his grasp. The clearing held complete silence for a moment.
When he spoke again, it was quiet and dangerous. “Don’t yell at me, Tommy.”
Tommy paled, but he clenched his fists and bared his teeth anyways. “I can yell at whom I fucking like.”
The avian tilted his head. Purpled was inching away, back pressed against the tree. No one could see him. He was invisible. Yes.
Wilbur raised his sword again, but he was still looking at Tommy. Measuring his reaction. Seeing how far he could go.
“Hey!” Tommy jammed his finger in his brother’s direction. Purpled froze. “I told you-”
Wilbur pushed the tip of his sword against Purpled’s chest. “His brother killed me, Tommy.” He blinked slowly, face slack. “I’m just righting a wrong.”
“Get your stupid-” Tommy grabbed his brother’s wrist, trying to pry the sword out of his fingers. Wilbur just shook him off like he was a particularly bothersome cat. Still staring. Eyes locked on the blond boy as he pushed him away.
Purpled took his chance and bolted.
A sharp pain ripped through his side and he tripped, barely catching himself on his hands. Squeezing his eyes shut against the agony, he slowly lowered himself to the ground and tried to convince the Earth to reclaim him via telepathy.
Someone screamed. It sounded like Wilbur. Metal clattered to the grass and the distinctive smell of blood permeated the air.
Not Purpled’s blood, though that was starting to soak into his hoodie. His blood didn’t really smell like anything. Also, he was pretty sure it wasn’t red.
He really, really didn’t want to, but he turned his head to see what the hell Tommy and Wilbur were doing.
Wilbur’s wrist was dangling at an odd angle, blood dripping from deep teeth marks. He was screaming something vulgar at Tommy, whose mouth, conveniently, was splattered with red blood. The imp’s ears were pinned back. He looked terrified, but he wiped his mouth and spat Wilbur’s blood at his feet with vigor.
“Brat!” Purpled pressed his face back into the dirt, groaning internally. If he could just stand up- “Just let me kill him!”
“NO!” Come on arms, there’s four of you, at least try to move. “I’ll kill you!”
“Try it.” Purpled flipped himself over, biting back a wince. Wilbur had his back to him, the sword sitting untouched in the grass at his feet. The exiled president’s wings were fluffing up in defense. “You don’t have the fucking guts.”
Tommy locked eyes with Purpled, biting his lip. “I- I do. I could.”
Purpled narrowed his eyes.
“Then do it.” Wilbur snatched up the sword, pushing it into Tommy’s hands. “Kill me. Show me you’re not just a pawn.”
“No?!” Tommy dropped the sword. “You twat, I’m not just going to-”
Wilbur grinned. “He’s currently bleeding out. Him or me, Tommy.”
Purpled was, in fact, not bleeding out. The sword had barely nicked his side. Painful and debilitating, sure, but not immediately dangerous. He wasn’t feeling lightheaded, or ill, or anything like that. It only looked like he’d lost a lot of blood.
But Tommy didn’t know that.
The imp paled. He could try to save Purpled, but Wilbur would stop him. The avian had made it abundantly clear that he would do anything to kill Purpled, even passively. Tommy had a choice. If he left or didn’t do anything, Purpled was doomed. If he stayed, he would have to fight his brother. The threat of Purpled bleeding out meant he couldn’t stall.
Purpled wasn’t going to let Tommy decide his fate, however. Despite the agony, he stumbled to his feet and retrieved his own sword.
Tommy didn’t even have time to yell a warning before Purpled plunged it into Wilbur’s neck.