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Despite what the recruitment agencies would have you think, interning for the Hero Tower was nowhere near as interesting as you'd think.
There were dozens of them scurrying around the office levels, apprently too many for most of the Heroes to bother learning their names, and so Tommy had spent much of the last few months being clicked, snapped and occasionally pointed at vaguely while orders were rattled off. He'd laminated endless stacks of paper, organised filing cabinets, and of course was the champion of coffee runs. The second floor cafeteria, which was really more like a mini mall, had several coffee shops but apparently thirty seconds in an elevator was too much for the country's brightest and best to bear, and so it was his job to balance a dozen drinks through the building.
It wasn't all bad, though. For one, he wasn't an unpaid intern, which would've sucked too bad to withstand even for the job experience. He'd gotten several autographs, most of which had occurred when he'd approached a distracted Hero and they'd signed whatever was closest absently and then tried to shove him away. Those always sold for a decent amount on eBay. He also, and most crucially, was fed.
Turned out living alone in the most expensive city in the country, even with a decently paying job with great benefits, was expensive. If Tommy could get three square meals a day in this building, then it was worth coming into work early for.
"- usually I just tell people it's Russian, and they stop questioning it. I have no clue why - it doesn't even sound Russian - but I guess it's too awkward to keep insisting it's nonsense after that? At some point I'm gonna meet an actual Russian but-"
"Why are we talking about Russians?" Tommy asked blearily, shoving the door to the intern kitchen open with his hip. The fact that the interns had a kitchen was insane, and a testament to exactly how much money these guys had, but you weren't supposed to look horses in the mouth or whatever. Maybe they didn't have teeth and were embarrassed about it. He should google that later.
"Ayy morning bossman!" Tubbo greeted cheerily, "Boo's been lying to people about their ethnic origins."
"I'm not lying to people!" Ranboo protested, eyes widening in alarm, "And if I was, it wouldn't be about that! Some people just question my name sometimes, and the Russian thing makes them stop!"
Tommy squinted at the pair, then shrugged and made a beeline for the coffee machine. "Whatever sinks your boat, Ran of the boob."
"I'm pretty sure the saying is-"
"I'm pretty sure I know my metaphors, actually. What's for breakfast?"
Tubbo snorted, "There's smoked salmon bagels in the fridge, they're good."
Tommy perked up, "Salmon you say, Tubso? Protein for growing muscles and all. I'm gonna be so fucking swole."
"You fell over trying to pick up a trash can the other day."
"That wasn't my fault!" Tommy protested, "Midas dumped a bunch of gold into it again! Which was unfairly confiscated from me, by the way, finders keepers."
He opened the fridge, delighted to find a stack of said bagels. Tubbo said nothing when he took two, but hissed when he went for a third. Tommy still thought he ought to get genetically tested to see if he had hybrid anywhere in him, but Tubbo insistent that it wasn't a good idea because 'his name was recognisable'. That seemed an obvious statement to make when ones parents called them fucking 'Tuberculosis', but Tommy had decided to not start that fight. He had so many more juicy ones to pick anyway.
"Where are you stationed today?" Ranboo asked, annoyingly tactful as ever, "I'm uh, up with the level ones again."
"Of course you fucking are," Tommy groaned, "God forbid you have anything but a main character moment. They're gonna adopt you at this rate. You'll neep- nap-"
"Nepotise?"
"Nepotise your way into a suit at this rate. I'm stuck with the level fives again."
Tubbo had been moved full time to Engineering a while back, so there was no point questioning him. Tommy returned to the coffee machine, and pulled his cup off the stand, setting it aside as he started to wolf down one of the bagels. God bless decent coffee and also stupid rich patrons who thought giving the interns a coffee machine instead of vending machine slop was a normal thing to do.
"Hey, that's still good!" Ranboo said, like they weren't lording it up there with the Blade and Crowfather and all the really cool Heroes who got to be on TV all the time and had great brand deals, "You-"
An explosion rattled the building.
Living in a city where Heroes and Villains regularly battled it out on the streets, Tommy was well versed in what an explosion sounded like, how far one was from the echo and the vibration, and whether he was in active danger from both those factors. There was also a big difference between 'some guy with laser eyes shot out a wall' and 'someone has C-4', the sort of difference that determined whether you should be running for your life or sighing and finding a panic room.
Tommy sighed, "That's definitely us under fire, right?"
"Yup. Sounded different the last time they went for next door. Grab the bagels, Tommy, I don't want to be trapped in that room without any food again."
Tommy obliged, and ducked towards the fridge, scooping handfuls of bagels out and into his bag. The three moved with practised efficiency, scooping up personal possessions and decanting coffee into 'being thrown across a room'-proof containers. A second explosion rattled the building, notably closer, and the alarms finally decided to go off, the calm and professional voice of the loud speakers politely informing them of the location of the nearest panic room.
The first time this has happened, Tommy had been terrified. Knees shaking, curled in a ball, praying to his favoured god of the week sort of fear, while simultaneously declaring to anyone that would listen that he was fine, he was just sitting down for a rest.
Given that something similiar had occured once a fortnight or so ever since, the effect had rather worn-
"OH SHIT-"
The three interns stumbled hard, as the floor behind them was ripped away in a flash of light, a chunk of the corridor just… disappearing. They didn't wait to see what happened next, since turning around when someone was actively removing parts of your workplace was not a great idea, and just booked it down the corridor towards the nearest panic room.
The beauty, of course, in living in a world where the majority of the population had some sort of power, was that events like this rarely caused lasting damage. Buildings could be fixed, people too, for the most part - it was more a game of 'how much pain are you willing to endure in return for looking cool'. Most people were happy with that being none - just because a broken spine was fix-able, didn't mean it was enjoyable - but there were always the small part of the population who deemed it worthy and went into the big leagues. Well, most into the medium-low leagues and then some into the big ones.
If Tommy had been the sort of person to screech, he would've done so as a vending machine sized chunk of concrete was hurled over the top of their heads, blocking the passage aside from a small gap on the side. It was just about large enough for a person to fit through, and Ranboo started sliding through the gap, having the longest legs and therefore the speed advantage.
"Stop right there!"
The voice that echoed down the hall after them was evil in the practised sort of way that Tommy knew meant they'd stood in front of their bathroom mirror for hours until it sounded just right, which sorta negated all the benefits of having an evil voice to begin with. He'd mentioned this to several Villains before, but they never seemed to take his advice.
Since none of them were idiots, they did not stop, and in fact continued their attempts to worm away.
The Villain groaned, and flung out a hand, halting them in place. God, Tommy hated telekinetic-ists. Or whatever they were called.
"Didn't you hear me?" the man demanded, striding down the corridor in shiny boots that had clearly never seen a battle before, "I told you to stop!"
"Oh did you?" Tommy asked, doing his best to sound surprised, "Sorry about that big man, must've gotten lost in all the, you know, explosions and shit. Don't suppose you could like… let us go? You can have a smoked salmon bagel if you want. They're good."
The Villain stared at them, then groaned, "You're just interns, aren't you? I thought I got someone interesting! Ugh, never mind, I might as well kill you anyway."
"Woah woah! Heyyy, that's not neccersary, right? We're all friends here-" Tommy's gaze darted helplessly around the space, trying to tilt his neck but finding it wedged in place.
The Villain made a face, and lifted their hand, ready to do god knew what and-
Tubbo groaned, "Look man, you really don't want to do this. I hate pulling the 'do you know who my father is' card, mostly because it's kinda cringe, but also dying isn't great?"
The Villain paused, squinting at the three of them, "Why should I care who your father is?"
"Check my ID card. It's on my lanyard."
Tommy couldn't quite see Tubbo's face, but he assumed the man winced as the strap was yanked roughly away from his neck with invisible hands. He was actually very interested in this too, since Tubbo categorically refused to talk about any of his family with them. He couldn't blame the guy - he'd cut off his family for being general wankers, imagine how mad he'd be if they named him something stupid like Tomathy.
The Villain paled. Or at least the silver of skin Tommy could see through his mask did.
"Oh. You're Tobias Schlatt." he said faintly, sounding quite unwell, "Oh. I'm gonna… head out now. Have a nice day Mister Schlatt. And your associates. I'm just gonna-"
Tommy slumped in relief, as the grip on his body loosened, and then promptly restarted his wiggling efforts, emerging on the other side of the blockage with a sigh.
The trio were silent the rest of their journey, nothing but pants and footsteps filling the space until they were safely and firmly in the panic room, and the door was locked behind them.
"Thank fuck you had that fake ID-" Tommy huffed, flopping down onto a beanbag chair and reaching for a bagel, "Whose that Schlatt guy? Why was that bitch scared of him?"
Tubbo gave him an odd look, retrieving his own 'well done for surviving' bagel, "That wasn't fake, Tommy. That's my name. My dad does a bunch of shady business things, I try to maintain plausible deniability for the most part, but he's pretty well known. Pretty dangerous too. Why did you think it was fake?"
Tommy stared at him, "Because it got your name wrong."
"… no? It didn't? Bossman did you hit your head or something?"
"Tubbo… are you telling me that Tuberculosis isn't your real name?"
The man stared back blankly, looking as lost as Tommy felt, "No? Why would that possibly be my real name?"
"Because it is! Ranboo told me!"
"Boo what the fuck?"
"I was joking!" Ranboo protested, eyes wide and flitting between the two, "I didn't think he believed me! No one's actually called that!"
"Well your name is 'Ranboo'!" Tommy pointed out, terribly logically, "Tuberculosis is a reasonable leap from there! How long were you going to lie to me about this? Our entire friendship, built on a falsehood!"
Tubbo stared at him a moment longer, then groaned, burying his face in his hands, "You know what, we can talk about this later. Give me another bagel. I'm gonna need it."