Chapter Text
“Is it on?” Tommy asked, looking at the camera. “Have you started yet?”
“Yep, you can go,” Tubbo said. Ranboo, who was holding the camera, gave him a thumbs up.
“Should we restart it so that’s not on it-”
“I can edit it out, just start,” Tubbo said exasperatedly. Tommy huffed. It wasn’t his fault it had taken three hours to get here. Tubbo was the one who didn’t want to just film it on someone’s phone and had them all go on some wild goose chase to get an actual camera.
“And remember, the video can only be two minutes long,” Tubbo added. Apparently, that was the longest Tubbo could get a video sent everywhere in L’manburg with the equipment he had in Pogtopia without it being tracked.
Tommy took a second to paste a smile on, despite the fact that it was hidden behind his bandanna. The difficulties it took to get the camera rolling didn’t matter anymore.
He blinked.
What was he even supposed to say? This was something that all of L’manburg was going to hear. He couldn’t just say ‘screw the heroes’ and be done with it. That would cause even more chaos; the opposite of what they were trying to do here.
He couldn’t tell everyone to fully trust the heroes either. He didn’t fully trust the heroes himself. He couldn’t ask other people to do that when he wouldn't.
“Tommy?” Tubbo asked quietly. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “I’m just… thinking. Give me a second.”
“If you want to do this later-”
“I can do it now,” Tommy said solidly. His eyes flicked to the camera, smiling in a way that hopefully reached his eyes.
“Hey L’manburg! If you’re worried about how you’re watching this, it’s thanks to Bee’s magical hacking!”
“Not magical,” Tubbo muttered.
“Shush,” Tommy said.
“I can just edit it out.”
“Shush!” Tommy repeated, shuffling his wings. Tubbo closed his mouth. Tommy cleared his throat, looking back at the camera.
“The reason why I’m here is to dispel some accusations I’ve been hearing flying around,” Tommy said, twitching his wings so people would get the joke. “Some people think I’m an imposter. A fake. Understandable, really, considering everything you know from what happened at Doomsday. When I died.” Tommy threw in the last part since no one knew they’d named the fight Doomsday.
“TChaos did die. I did die. But guess what, L’manburg?” Tommy’s grin widened into something more genuine and he raised his hands. “I’m too poggers for death to keep me down! I got revived because I’m just that freaking cool!”
Tommy paused for imaginary applause. Maybe someone like those kids he’d met a few days ago would really be clapping.
“I’m sure a bunch of you have questions and objections,” Tommy continued after a moment. “Like the fact that I have wings, and the fact that TChaos died and it’d be rude to impersonate him. And yeah, it would be rude. If I do die again, don’t impersonate me.
“But the critical answers to most of those questions and objections are simple. First off, I have Bee and Ender right here.” Ranboo shifted the camera to look at Tubbo, who looked at the camera with wide, surprised eyes. Tommy had to stop himself from laughing as Ranboo moved the camera back to him.
“Evidence point two,” Tommy continued, reaching for the familiar thrum of his powers. They still weren’t working perfectly, or even well, most of the time, but they worked well enough for bright red lines of energy to wrap around his arms. “I’ve got the same powers.”
“Third and most important evidence point-” Tommy pulled off his hood, eye mask, and bandanna in one smooth move.
He paused again, this time for the imaginary dramatic gasps.
“To those who recognize me, yes! It’s me. To those who don’t know me; hi, I’m Tommy Innit. The conspiracy theorists were right! I used to work at the Hero HQ, with SBI.
“Speaking of the heroes…” Tommy trailed off, falling silent for a moment. What was he supposed to say?
“Not all of them are bad,” Tommy said carefully. “Most of them are still acting in the interest of all of your safety.”
Excluding Wilbur, who had his own grudges and biases, most of the heroes were acting in the name of civilians’ safety.
Tubbo tapped his wrist. Tommy must’ve ran out of time.
“I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you for now,” Tommy said, spreading his wings slightly. “I’ll be back at some point, but for now, I am TChaos, I am alive, and bye.” He saluted at the camera, a co*cky grin on his face.
“How was that?” Tommy asked once Ranboo lowered the camera.
“Good,” Tubbo said. “Certainly dramatic, but good.”
“Good,” Tommy echoed, nodding. He hadn’t been nervous or anything. It was just… an important video. If he said the wrong thing, the city could descend into chaos.
There had been more news reports lately of people refusing heroes’ help. There had even been people starting to protest the heroes’ existence altogether. Tommy hoped this would help against that.
He didn’t trust the heroes. He didn’t know how he felt about them, really, other than some weird mixture of anger, guilt, and that he missed them.
Tommy did not trust a lot of the heroes. But he knew the city needed them, one way or another.
“I’ll get it edited,” Tubbo said, taking the camera from Ranboo. “It’ll be on every screen in L’manburg in a few hours.”
“Great,” Tommy said without feeling.
He hoped he hadn’t said anything wrong.
***
Wilbur stared at the TV with wide eyes. It had switched on without warning. He’d been playing with Friend while Techno read in the book nook, but now they were both on the couch, in silent shock.
“Did… did you just see what I saw?” Wilbur finally asked, sending a wayward glance towards Techno.
“That can’t be real,” Techno said quietly.
“It has to be,” Wilbur said. “Tubbo was there. To-” Wilbur faltered. “Tommy was there. I don’t… I don’t know how they could’ve faked that.”
“You were there when he died, Wilbur,” Techno said. “You know he’s gone. It’s not possible. Even if it was, how would he have gotten wings?”
“I don’t know,” Wilbur said. “He’s just… how could it not be him?”
“Some sort of AI or a shapeshifter or something,” Techno said. “Tubbo can hack through some of Sam’s defenses on the HQ; don’t you don’t think he could make a video like that look convincing?”
“But why?” Wilbur asked. “He didn’t even tell people to hate the heroes or anything. It was just him saying he’s not an imposter and that the heroes are actually trying to help everyone.”
Wilbur was surprised that he had said that, whether he was an imposter or not.
“You saw him die, Wilbur,” Techno said. “You just want to think he’s back.”
“Don’t you?” Wilbur asked. “Don’t you wish that he was back? That we hadn’t gone through with that fight?” The fight with the vigilantes was called Doomsday, apparently. Wilbur couldn’t really blame them, even though it made him feel so much more guilty.
“Of course I wish that he hadn’t died,” Techno said. “I wish he wasn’t a vigilante and I wish that everything was fine. But it doesn’t matter what we wish, because he died, Wilbur. Thinking anything else is wrong.”
“Can’t we at least hope?” Wilbur said weakly. As much as it would make things easier if it was just an imposter, Wilbur had to hope it was really him. Even if he didn’t really believe that hope.
“What happens when that hope is wrong?” Techno asked. “It would be like losing him again.”
Wilbur didn’t say anything. Techno was right, as much as Wilbur didn’t like it.
“And say he somehow got brought back from the dead and magically got wings,” Techno continued. “Then what?”
“I don’t know,” Wilbur said quietly. He didn’t know what he was going to do if that video was true, if Tommy was really back. He didn’t know how he would begin to make up for what he did. He didn’t know if Tommy could ever stand to speak to him again.
But that wasn’t important. What was important was that Tommy was alive in the first place. It didn’t matter if that was good or bad for Wilbur or Techno or any of the other heroes. It mattered that Tommy was alive and Wilbur couldn’t help but hope he was.
The elevator opened and Phil came stumbling out. There was an odd expression on his face, a mixture of disbelief and hope, of sadness and apprehension.
“You saw it too?” Wilbur asked.
Phil nodded. “You don’t… you don’t think it was real, do you?”
“It can’t be,” Techno said. “We all saw him die. Nothing can reverse that.”
“If anyone could find a way, it would be Tommy,” Phil said.
“And he’d find a way to get wings?” Techno asked, crossing his arms.
“It being Tommy isn’t the most likely option, I’ll admit, but… that’s what we can see. I want that to be right,” Phil said quietly. His wings were pulled unnaturally tight to his back.
Wilbur knew that Phil blamed himself for Tommy’s death. Everyone did, to a point, but Phil blamed himself for so much more. He thought that he’d failed Wilbur and Techno, too.
He knew why Phil wanted to believe the video. It was the same reason that Wilbur wanted to believe it.
Maybe those reasons were selfish. Maybe those reasons would take off just a little bit of the crushing guilt Wilbur couldn’t help but feel every time he thought of his little brother.
“Only time will tell,” Wilbur said eventually.
***
Phil ruffled his wings, shaking them out over and over again. It was a bad habit he’d gotten himself into whenever he was stressed, but that didn’t matter at the moment.
Tommy might be alive. Maybe he hadn’t failed his son after all. He had absolutely no clue how Tommy was back, but they had to make sure they didn’t throw the chance away.
Then again, how could they not? They had messed up so much last time. What chance did they have of even getting the chance to apologize to Tommy? What were the chances of Tommy even really getting back?
Phil had watched the video a dozen times. It had first shown up on his phone with no explanation, but had been uploaded to YouTube almost immediately afterwards.
It already had millions of views. Phil hoped that wherever they were, Tubbo wasn’t letting the fame get to Tommy’s head.
That felt like a ridiculous thought. He was hoping that his supposedly-dead pseudo son wasn’t getting a big head because a video about him being back from the dead was getting a lot of attention.
Was the video even telling the truth? Phil wanted to believe it was, he wanted to believe that Tommy was really back, but he knew Techno had a point. It didn’t make sense that Tommy was back. It was more likely that it was fake.
Still, Phil hoped Techno was wrong.
Because maybe then, Phil wouldn’t have completely failed his family.
***
“Video’s up,” Tubbo said, pushing away from his chair. The room was silent for a moment.
“What now?” Tommy asked.
“We wait for reactions,” Tubbo said. “The internet’s going to start blowing up as soon as they can get away from the video, but that’ll take a couple of minutes.”
“And you’re sure this can’t be tracked?” Puffy asked.
“Absolutely,” Tubbo said, nodding. Tommy looked away from Tubbo’s screen, where the video was playing, to look at everyone else.
Tubbo, Purpled, Ranboo, and Puffy were in the room. Niki, Karl, and Dream were at work, to keep up appearances. They had all wanted to stay back, Niki especially, but in the end, they decided it would be safer for them to just go in. Tommy had no idea where Punz was. He’d only seen the mercenary in fleeting passes in the hallway recently, but Tommy didn’t really care much. He was a little preoccupied with everything else in his life to worry about where Punz was.
“Is this actually going to do anything?” Tommy asked.
“What do you mean?” Tubbo asked.
“Is anyone really going to believe it?” Tommy asked, ruffling his feathers. “I don’t- I probably wouldn’t believe that if I saw it, what if-”
“It might take a little while, but people will believe it eventually,” Tubbo said. “It’s the truth, after all. It’s not like there’s anything that can prove anything otherwise.”
“And if they don’t want to believe, I can make them believe,” Purpled said. From the look on his face, Tommy could tell he meant violently.
“Let’s… not do that,” Tommy said. Purpled shrugged.
“This whole thing is just to calm down civilians anyways,” Tubbo said. “It doesn’t matter if they really believe anything, as long as they quit the protesting.”
Tommy frowned, glancing at the ground. He didn’t care if most people believed he was who he said, but he did care what Section 12 thought. Those were the people he’d protected for years. He didn’t want them thinking that he was some fake.
He was sure that some people could already tell it was him. More people would know now, thanks to this video. But how many would still think he was a liar? He’d like to think that the people in his Section wouldn’t believe he was gone for good so easily, but that really was the most logical thing. People generally didn’t come back from the dead.
Was it worse that they believed he was back at all? That if he had really died, they’d be able to be fooled into thinking someone else was him?
Could anyone else fool them, though? Tommy would like to think no, but there was no way he could really know that.
“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo said, snapping his fingers. Tommy’s eyes jumped to him, distracted from his spiraling.
“Yeah?”
“The video’s done,” Tubbo said. “People are going crazy.”
“What are they saying?” Tommy had to ask. Tubbo clicked between a few sites on his computer.
“There’s a lot of confusion about how I did that, tons of shock, people thinking their devices got a virus-”
“What are they saying about me?” Tommy interrupted impatiently.
“Things… seem pretty split,” Tubbo said, frowning. “Some don’t think you died at all, some think you really did get revived, some think it’s just a prank, some still think you’re fake.”
“Which one is the majority?” Tommy asked.
“Hard to say,” Tubbo said. “We’d have to wait a while to really get a consensus on how people are feeling.”
“I wonder how long it’ll take for there to be YouTube videos dissecting the situation,” Ranboo joked. It really wasn’t that funny, but Tommy doubled over laughing.
“They’re… gonna have so many wrong facts,” Tommy said through giggles.
“Oh, they do,” Purpled said. Tommy wheeled around to face him.
“What?”
“People have already been talking about the situation for weeks,” Purpled said. “There were probably YouTube videos out about it before you were revived.”
“Of course there was,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Were they at least good videos?”
Purpled shrugged. “Some of them.”
“I’ll take some of them,” Tommy said.
“Speaking of YouTube videos, we’ve already got half a million views,” Tubbo said. “Not including forcing it onto all of their devices.”
“I’m famous,” Tommy said, beaming.
Tubbo scoffed. “You already were.”
“Well now I’m more famous!” Tommy said, throwing his hands in the air.
“Tommy, if you get an ego about this, I’m posting every embarrassing photo I have of you on every possible screen in the entire server,” Tubbo threatened. Tommy lowered his arms.
“We don’t have to go that far, Tubbo,” Tommy said.
“We won’t,” Tubbo said, smiling sweetly. “As long as you keep a level head.”
“My head will be the most level head there has ever been,” Tommy declared.
“We’ll see,” Tubbo said, turning back to his computer.
“Purpled,” Tommy loudly whispered. “Can you hack into Tubbo’s phone and delete all my embarrassing pictures?”
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t,” Purpled said.
“What happened to you being on my side?” Tommy asked, scowling despite the fact he was fighting a smile.
“That’s only when you’re in danger,” Purpled said. “You’re not in danger right now, so I’ll be on whoever's' side I please.”
Tommy huffed. “I’m in danger of being embarrassed in front of all L’manburg. Isn’t that a problem?”
“Nope,” Purpled said. “Not when you do that to yourself every day.”
“Hey!” Tommy protested, wings flaring.
“You know it’s true,” Purpled said smugly.
“I hate you, actually,” Tommy said. “I hate all of you.”
“Sure,” Tubbo said. “Sure you do.”
“You’re on my side, right, Ranboo?” Tommy asked.
Ranboo shook their head. “Nope.”
“Puffy?”
“Sorry, kiddo, you’re on your own,” Puffy said, smiling.
Tommy groaned. “Why do I live with you people?”
“You love us,” Tubbo said, grinning. Tommy grumbled, but couldn’t bring himself to deny it.
***
Tommy had been getting a lot more attention than usual on patrol. It must’ve been from the video, he assumed. Tommy waved to as many people as he could, showing off with tricks he could barely fumble through as he flew down the street.
Purpled eventually convinced him to quit after he flew into a sign. He was walking along an empty street now, with only Purpled at his side.
“T, back up,” Purpled said, suddenly stopping.
“What are you trying to-”
Purpled shoved Tommy back. Tommy stumbled, tripping over a stray rock. Purpled grabbed his arm before he fully fell, but instead of helping him to his feet, he dragged him around a corner.
“What was that for?” Tommy snapped as he tried to pull his arm away.
“Phantom was there,” Purpled said, as though it was some big issue.
Tommy just stared at him blankly. “So?”
“So?” Purpled repeated incredulously. “You had a panic attack because you saw a picture of him a few weeks ago! I’m not letting you anywhere near him.”
“I’ve already seen him in person,” Tommy said, crossing his arms. He hadn’t told any of the others about the incident, preferring to quietly panic about it when he got home- though it hadn’t quite been a panic attack.
Tommy didn’t know what to think about the interaction. Wilbur had just called him a fake and Tommy threatened him before flying off. It had felt… normal, almost.
And Tommy knew that was wrong, of course he knew it was wrong, he should hate the fact that he ever had to see Wilbur again, but… if he was being honest with himself, he missed his brother. No matter what Wilbur did.
And no matter what, Tommy wasn’t afraid of him. He wasn’t going to hide behind a building like a coward just because Wilbur was there.
Tommy wasn’t afraid. So he pushed back Purpled and walked back onto the street with very steady and not at all shaking legs because he wasn’t afraid.
Wilbur was in the street. He wasn’t facing Tommy at first, but his attention must’ve been caught pretty quickly by the glowing wings on Tommy’s back. His eyes widened as he looked at Tommy, seeming surprised.
The two were frozen for a long moment, staring at each other. Purpled was at Tommy’s side. Tommy knew he was holding a gun and pretended that it didn’t comfort him just a little.
“Wilbur,” Tommy finally broke the silence.
“You’re… you can’t be Tommy,” Wilbur said, taking a step back.
“You saw the video,” Tommy said, striding forward with a confidence he didn’t feel. “You had to have seen the video. Tubbo got it through the sorry excuse of a security system you have in the HQ, I know he did. You saw the video.”
“It was fake,” Wilbur said. “Tommy is dead. It had to be fake.”
“Do I look fake to you!?” Tommy demanded, pulling off his eye mask and bandanna. Purpled said something, probably trying to stop him, but Tommy paid him no mind as he glared at Wilbur’s shocked face.
“You- you can’t- that’s not- you’re not-”
“It’s me, whether you like it or not,” Tommy snapped. “What are you doing in my Section? Don’t you know that people don’t like heroes down here?”
Tommy might’ve been wanting to keep things civil between heroes and vigilantes for the city’s sake in general, but this was the person who’d killed him and who was running around in his Section. Tommy thought he was allowed a little hostility.
“I was looking for… you,” Wilbur said hesitantly. His eyes were flicking between the wings on Tommy’s back, his face, and Purpled.
“You wanted to see if I was actually me?” Tommy asked condescendingly. “Wanted to make sure the video wasn’t some hoax like you hoped it was?”
“I was hoping it was real,” Wilbur said quietly. Tommy froze, but Wilbur continued. “I’m- it was a mistake. You shouldn’t have died- or- or gotten hurt at all.”
“I shouldn’t have,” Tommy echoed, but it was filled with a lot less anger than it held before.
Wilbur had hoped he was still alive.
Tommy… Tommy didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Let’s go home,” Tommy muttered, turning away.
“What?” Purpled asked.
“We’re going home,” Tommy said forcefully. He didn’t glance back as he started walking. He didn’t care if Wilbur was going the other direction, was trying to follow him, or if he was still standing there, staring at Tommy’s retreating form.
Purpled called Niki to pick them up. Tommy almost felt bad for cutting her patrol short, but his head was too messed up to really think about it.
The car ride was both painfully long and awfully short. Purpled and Niki tried to talk to Tommy during it but he ignored them both.
Tommy didn’t follow the others to the hatch once they got to Pogtopia. He turned towards the door instead.
“Tommy-”
“Not right now, Purpled,” Tommy said. “I need to think.” His voice wasn’t sharp, but he felt guilty anyways when he glanced back at Purpled. He looked hurt, but didn’t protest.
Another time, Tommy might’ve caved and let Purpled follow him, but he was too deep in a spiral to consider it.
Tommy flew up to the top of the garage. There was a ladder somewhere so someone would be able to find him eventually, but for the time being, it was a quiet place where Tommy could think.
A soft breeze was floating by. The stars stretched above him, a thousand times the amount he was able to see in Section 12.
He felt so conflicted.
Wilbur had technically saved him, after all. Just like he promised. He could’ve just as easily left Tommy in that collapsed building instead of going back for him, as long as Tommy’s spotty memory was serving him correctly.
But it had been too little, too late. Could you even count it as saving someone when you’re the one who caused the problem in the first place?
Tommy groaned, burying his fingers in his hair. Why couldn’t he just hate Wilbur? Why couldn’t he hate the hero who had run the witch hunt against him for the past nine months? Why couldn’t he hate the person who had killed him?
He wanted to fight his brain. He wanted to fight his brain for being stupid and making him want to care about Wilbur and the rest of the heroes, despite everything they’d done to him. Despite everything they’d done to his friends.
It was Tubbo who found him maybe an hour later, sitting on the roof of Pogtopia’s garage, fingers bloody from digging into his scalp too hard.
“Something happen on patrol?” Tubbo asked gently, settling next to him.
“Yeah. Something ,” Tommy huffed. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at Tubbo about anything, but he had to get the anger out somehow.
“Ah,” Tubbo said, immediately understanding. Or maybe Purpled had told him. “Wilbur?”
“Yeah,” Tommy repeated, staring at the field below them, tucking his wings closer to himself.
“You don’t know what to think about him,” Tubbo guessed. “You still see him as your brother. but he also hurt you.”
“Didn’t realize I was getting psychoanalyzed today,” Tommy said.
“Better than keeping everything bottled up,” Tubbo said, shrugging. “You don’t know what you want to do.”
“I don’t,” Tommy agreed quietly. What could he do? What with the city so on edge, anything could set off something Tommy didn’t know he had the power to stop.
“Maybe you don’t have to do anything,” Tubbo said.
“What?” Tommy asked, glancing at him. Tubbo was staring at the stars.
“See what the heroes do. See how they react. See what they want. Then you can move forward,” Tubbo said. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Whatever you pick doesn’t have to be permanent. Hating Wilbur right now doesn’t mean you’ll hate him forever. Choosing to forgive him doesn’t mean you won’t be angry with him again in the future.”
Tommy was quiet for a moment. “Have you been getting lessons from Puffy?”
Tubbo smiled. “Maybe I’ve been picking up some stuff she’s saying. She does have a point, more often than not.”
“What do you think I should do?” Tommy asked, moving one of his wings so he could run his hands through the feathers. The blood on his fingers had dried now. He wondered if it was too dark for Tubbo to see or if he just hadn’t noticed.
Tubbo sighed. “I think you should hate the heroes forever for what they did to you. But you’re not going to.”
“What if I do?” Tommy asked defensively. Tubbo looked at him.
“You’re not going to,” Tubbo said. “Unless it’s about a joke or something embarrassing, you’re awful at holding grudges. It all depends on what the heroes do next, but… you’re not going to be mad forever.”
“You know me too well,” Tommy said.
Tubbo smiled. “Comes with the territory of being your best friend. Did any of that help?”
Tommy stood. “Yeah. I think it did.” He didn’t have to make any permanent decisions now. He didn’t have to decide how he felt about anything now. Life was temporary and ever changing. If he made a wrong choice, he’d find a way to fix it.
“Great,” Tubbo said, pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing.”
“It’s almost summer, Tubbo, it is not freezing,” Tommy said, but he followed him to the ladder.
“Summer nights are still cold. You’re wearing a hoodie!”
“And you came out in short sleeves. Whose fault is that?”
“Yours! I was getting worried about you!”
“You could’ve still thrown on a jacket.”
“Tommy, I’ve decided I hate you.”
“That’s fine, you can always change your mind later.” Tommy was smirking now as he drifted down next to Tubbo, who was taking the ladder.
“You are not throwing my advice back at me,” Tubbo said.
“That I am, Tubso.”
“I hate you even more.”
***
“Sam! Have you heard the rumors?” Aimsey asked, bursting into Sam’s office.
“Which ones?” Sam asked exasperatedly. Rumors of every kind had been flying around the HQ ever since that video came out. He needed more clarification than just ‘rumors’.
“Well, some people think that Tommy’s actually back, but some people think it’s fake, and some people think it’s some villains, and some people think it’s the vigilantes trying to take over the city,” Aimsey listed. That wasn’t even half of what Sam had heard. “What do you think?”
That was a difficult question. Sam would like to imagine that it was actually Tommy. That the kid was miraculously back from the dead and the heroes’ wrongs had been righted.
But that wasn’t possible. There was no way to bring people back to life. No healer was strong enough, no potion existed. Once someone was gone, they were gone.
Though Sam had to admit, he didn’t see much logic in any of the other options. Why would someone who was so clearly not TChaos be posing as him? Even though he looked just like Tommy, he still had wings.
Sam was also certain that Purpled wouldn’t go along with it. Tommy was like a brother to him. The reports of Purpled patrolling with TChaos alone was most of the reason Sam believed it at all.
But maybe Purpled wasn’t with the other vigilantes. He had said he was somewhere safe, so Sam assumed that was with the other vigilantes, but none of them knew what was going on there. They couldn’t find any records of the vigilantes anywhere; even as a civilian, Tubbo hadn’t been seen since the fight.
Sam realized that Aimsey was still waiting for an answer.
“I’m not sure right now,” Sam said. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s him,” Aimsey blurted, as though she’d been waiting for someone to ask her opinion. “I mean, isn’t it just a very Tommy thing to somehow get brought back from the dead and get wings?”
“It would be a very Tommy thing,” Sam muttered.
“Plus, none of the vigilantes would be getting along with him if he was a fake. They liked the actual TChaos too much,” Aimsey said. “And I’ve seen the video. You’ve seen the video. It has to be him.”
“I hope it is,” Sam said. “But like I said, I’m not sure right now. None of us can be sure right now.”
“What are you planning on doing about it?” Aimsey asked, crossing her arms.
“Me specifically, or the heroes in general?” Sam asked.
“Both,” Aimsey said.
Sam sighed. “I might go out to Section 12 to see if I can get anything figured out. I’m not sure what the others are planning on doing. Vigilantes are still illegal and they could get in a lot of trouble for helping one.”
“That’s not going to stop any of you,” Aimsey said. “This is Tommy. ”
Sam didn’t respond for a minute. Aimsey was right. If the vigilante was telling the truth, it was Tommy, and nearly anyone in the HQ would do anything for him.
“Maybe not,” Sam said.
“What are you going to do if you find him and it is Tommy?” Aimsey asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “Everything’s so complicated right now, Aimsey. We’re all just trying to figure things out.”
“You know he was just trying to help,” Aimsey said.
“I know,” Sam said.
“You know he’s a good person,” Aimsey said.
“I know,” Sam repeated, a little more forcefully.
“You know he was just doing what he thought was best,” Aimsey said.
“Where are you going with this?” Sam asked.
“We never should’ve gone after him,” Aimsey said, looking away.
She must’ve still felt guilty for the ambush she’d played a part in months ago. It hadn’t even been successful, but Sam wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel guilty for that too. He wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel guilty for every rare interaction he’d had for the vigilante, that he didn’t feel guilty for never noticing when in hindsight, the kid had made it so obvious.
“No,” Sam agreed. “We shouldn’t have. But we did, and we have to figure out where to go from here.”
“Just don’t hurt him again,” Aimsey said. Sam wished it were that simple.
“Whether it’s really Tommy or not, I’m not planning on it,” Sam said.
He meant it.
***
“Tommy, careful!” Tubbo said, grabbing his hand.
Tommy blinked at him. “What?”
“You could hurt yourself,” Tubbo said, taking the knife from him.
“I- what?” Tommy asked incredulously. “Do you think I don’t know how to use a knife?”
“What if you drop it?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Are you?” Tubbo shot back. “You look a little pale. Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Against my will, yes,” Tommy said, mostly truthfully. He’d had a few late nights when he got back from patrol and couldn’t wind down until the early hours of the morning, but he’d been getting more sleep recently than he had in years.
“Wings doing okay?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy ruffled his feathers. “Fine, why?”
“Just checking,” Tubbo said, shrugging.
“This is not you ‘just checking’,” Tommy said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just worried about you,” Tubbo said. “Can’t I be worried about my friend who died a month ago?”
“You’re not going to be able to use that excuse forever,” Tommy said.
“I’ll use it as long as you pull the ‘I died’ card,” Tubbo said.
“Is that what this is about?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow. Yes, maybe he’d used that the day before to get the last cookie, but in his defense, he wasn’t lying. And Niki’s cookies were amazing.
“No,” Tubbo said.
“Then what?” Tommy asked. “I can handle myself just fine, Tubbo.”
“I know,” Tubbo said, glancing away. “I just get worried.”
Tommy sighed. “I get that, really, I do, but I can handle myself perfectly fine. Even if I do hurt myself, whatever the heck is going on with my powers have a good chance of fixing it.”
“We still don’t know what that is,” Tubbo said. Tommy moved the bracelet on his wrist subconsciously.
“We’ll figure it out eventually,” Tommy said, shrugging. “Now, can I have the knife back?”
Tubbo handed the utensil over and Tommy went back to cutting his apple. Tubbo didn’t leave the room until Tommy was done, but Tommy didn’t argue with him anymore. It wasn’t important, even though Tommy really could handle himself just fine.
***
Wilbur was refusing to talk about his last patrol. Techno knew something was up, but couldn’t force any information out of his brother no matter how hard he tried.
Techno knew there was only one thing he would be so tight lipped about. So he had ditched his own usual patrol route in favor for Section 12’s streets. He didn’t know how he was supposed to find TChaos- it couldn’t be Tommy, it couldn’t be- but he was sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone with huge glowing wings.
A gunshot rang out nearby, much too close for comfort, making Techno whip around. He froze at the sight in front of him. TChaos was standing behind him, looking down at a knocked over criminal.
“He was going to shoot you,” TChaos explained. He opened his wings to fly off, but Techno held out a hand.
“Wait.” To Techno’s surprise, the vigilante actually paused, glancing at him.
“What?”
“I-” Techno didn’t think he’d get this far. He didn’t think TChaos would want anything to do with any of the heroes. “Are you really Tommy?”
Techno had seen Tommy die. It couldn’t be him, he knew that, but the kid standing in front of him looked just like he always had, other than the wings. It didn’t make any sense and Techno almost wished that TChaos would say no just so the world could keep on turning the way it always had but the world had ended when Tommy died, hadn’t it?
TChaos pulled off his bandanna and eye mask and pushed off his hood and Techno couldn’t help but stare.
Tommy stood in front of him. He had glowing wings on his back and a strand of gray hair hanging by his eyes but it was undoubtedly Tommy.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “It’s me, Tech.”
Techno wanted to ask a dozen questions.He wanted to know how Tommy was alive and how he had wings. He wanted to ask Tommy to go home with him so he could stay safe. He wanted to know why Tommy had never told him. He wanted to know why Tommy would get to know them in the first place when it was so dangerous for him.
Techno didn’t ask any of those questions. He only nodded once.
“Stay safe.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not interested in dying a second time,” Tommy said, a sharp grin on his face. Techno frowned. How could he make jokes so easily when he had died ? Techno knew he had died, Techno had watched him die, but Tommy was joking about it?
Then again, it was Tommy. Did Techno really expect anything less?
Tommy spread his wings, taking off into the night sky.
Techno didn’t get it.
He had seen Tommy die himself. Had felt Tommy’s wrist as his heart refused to beat. He had seen Tommy die.
But Tommy had been standing right in front of him. His mask was off. Techno had looked at him and he knew it was him.
Techno didn’t get it. He didn’t get it because Tommy had been standing there but Tommy had been dead. It was impossible to bring people back from death, Techno knew that, but he knew that he had seen Tommy die. He had grieved for him, the entire HQ had grieved for him.
So what was happening? How was it happening? None of this made any sense. Techno wanted someone to explain but doubted anyone would, because no one could. No one had any idea what was happening. Half of the HQ still thought TChaos was an imposter.
Techno knew he wasn’t. He almost wished it was. Everything would’ve been easier if he was an imposter.
Then he immediately regretted wishing it because that would mean Tommy was truly dead. But Tommy wasn’t truly dead so how? And how did he have wings? Why?
Techno shook his head, looking down at the unconscious criminals. He had to get that taken care of. A hero’s job was never done, not even when they were slightly in shock from running into getting saved by your dead-undead pseudo brother.
***
Tommy ruffled his wings as he landed back at Pogtopia. Maybe Techno would’ve been able to handle himself, Tommy was sure he’d be fine, even if he had gotten shot, but it had just been instinct. He would’ve done the same for anyone else, hero or not.
Maybe a part of Tommy had wanted to talk to Techno. Maybe he wanted to prove to his brother the hero that he was really alive, that he wasn’t that imposter that everyone seemed to think he was more than just through a video.
That would obviously be irrational and stupid. Tommy never did irrational or stupid things. (Except for when he did but that’s not the point Tommy was trying to make to himself.)
“How was patrol?” Tubbo asked the moment Tommy got inside. Tommy was surprised he wasn’t immediately getting a lecture for flying straight there, instead of landing with Ranboo to teleport back.
“You know exactly how it went,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.
“I still want to hear it from you,” Tubbo said, crossing his arms. Tommy groaned dramatically, but started listing things.
“I helped some kids get home, I stopped a guy with a gun, I spoke to Blade, I flew back,” Tommy said.
“You fought with Blade?” Purpled demanded. Tommy jumped. He hadn’t noticed Purpled was in the room. He was double surprised he hadn’t gotten a lecture now.
“I didn’t fight with him,” Tommy said. “I just talked to him.”
“About what?” Purpled asked.
“Nothing, really,” Tommy said. “He just asked if it was really me, then told me to stay safe.”
“That’s it?” Purpled asked.
“Basically,” Tommy said, shrugging. He was glad the conversation hadn’t dragged on for any longer, really. He didn’t want to answer most of the questions he was sure Techno, and everyone , had to have. “It wasn’t as bad as when I saw Wilbur.”
“That’s good,” Tubbo said slowly. Tommy nodded.
“I guess.”
***
“Don’t go too high!” Niki yelled. Tommy sighed, tucking in his wings. He plummeted to the ground, opening his wings just before he landed on the ground. His shoes were soaked the moment he touched down, Niki’s attempt at stopping his dive.
“You said you just wanted to watch,” Tommy said, crossing his arms.
“Sorry,” Niki said sheepishly. “It just probably isn’t very good for you if you go too far. There’s less oxygen the higher up you go.”
“Yes, I passed elementary school,” Tommy said. He didn’t really want to be rude to Niki, but she had promised she was only going to watch.
“Have you done any research on how high up you can safely go?” Niki asked. “Or what if you’re diving and your wings don’t respond right, or-”
“Niki,” Tommy said. “I’ve been flying for almost a month. I know what I’m doing.”
Most of her concerns were valid, really. Tommy did get up to some thin air sometimes, and he’d had his wings cramp up a few times, but he’d been able to recover from any mistakes he made. Birds didn’t have anyone telling them how to fly from the ground.
“Of course you do, I just…” Niki trailed off, not meeting his eyes. “I’m just not used to you flying, I guess.”
“None of us are, yet,” Tommy said. “But I can keep myself safe. You don’t get worried that baby birds are going to fall out of the sky, do you?”
“Are you finally admitting you’re a child?” Niki asked, smiling a little.
“I never said that!” Tommy loudly protested. “I am a big man! Not a child at all! I meant do you ever see big men birds falling out of the sky? You do not because they are too big of men to fall out of the sky ever!”
Niki laughed, shaking her head. “Get back into the air, kiddo.”
Tommy smacked her with one of his wings, but threw himself into the air without further protest. He could still hear her gasps as he did a few tricks and rolls in the sky, but she didn’t shout any more warnings to him.
***
Phil tucked his wings in as he landed on a rooftop, looking around. Techno had told him what he had seen on his patrol, but Phil needed to see it for himself too.
Thanks to TChaos’ newfound media fame, it was easy to track the kid down. People were posting pictures of him constantly. It would be largely unhelpful for a criminal trying to plan ahead to avoid him, which was why Phil suspected Tubbo hadn’t put a stop to it, but it did make it easy for Phil to find him.
TChaos heard Phil approaching. He had a gun out faster than Phil could react, but he didn’t shoot.
Phil froze. He froze because TChaos was looking at him and Phil knew it was Tommy. He knew this was his son.
Maybe he hadn’t failed everyone so completely.
“One step closer and there will be a bullet through your wing,” Tommy said seriously. Too seriously. It hurt to hear him talk like that. He was supposed to be laughing as he ran away from Wilbur with his beanie in his hands, not pointing a gun at Phil, looking ready to pull the trigger.
“I’m not here to arrest you,” Phil said, raising his hands.
“Then what do you want?” Tommy asked sharply.
“I just…” Saying that he wanted to be sure that he was actually Tommy felt like the wrong thing to say. He could tell it was Tommy, of course it was Tommy, but how?
Phil had the feeling that Tommy wouldn’t appreciate that question much either.
“You’re flying wrong,” Phil said, surprising even himself. Tommy looked taken aback, gunpoint falling to the ground.
“I’m what?”
“You’re supposed to angle your wings differently when you fly,” Phil said. “The way you do it is easier for gliding, but makes it more difficult to fly up.”
Tommy didn’t say anything, readjusting the wings at his back almost subconsciously. They glowed against the dark night, something that should be impossible, but it felt fitting for Tommy.
“How am I supposed to do it, then?”
Phil was shocked that Tommy accepted the help, but opened his wings. Tommy copied him, originally having them the way Phil had seen him flying like before, but shifted them to the way Phil was holding them. Tommy flapped once, shooting into the air. Phil watched from the ground, not daring to follow. A shadow of a smile crossed his face.
His kid was alive. He may hate him, he may hate all the heroes, deservedly, but he was alive.
That was all Phil could ask for, wasn’t it?
Tommy landed after a minute, holstering his gun.
“Thanks,” Tommy said. “I didn’t have anyone to really teach me, so I just found what worked.”
“It’s pretty good, for not having anything to go off of,” Phil said. He couldn’t help himself. “I- how exactly did you get them?”
“The Goddess of Death,” Tommy said, as if that explained everything.
“Who?” Phil asked, taken aback.
“The Goddess of Death,” Tommy repeated impatiently, rolling his eyes. “You know, since Wilbur killed me and all.”
“But- what- how-”
“Don’t ask me,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Had to do with my powers or something. I really don’t know.”
“Your powers…” Phil trailed off. Of course Tommy had powers. TChaos had powers. Tommy was TChaos. Phil had been struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that Tommy was dead, let alone focusing on the fact that Tommy was the vigilante. It hadn’t mattered as much when he was dead, but now, with the kid standing in front of him, it obviously mattered a lot more.
“I’m sorry,” Phil said quietly. Tommy’s expression didn’t change.
“I should’ve stopped Wilbur,” Phil continued. “I should’ve done something. I failed you. I’m sorry.”
“I was the one lying,” Tommy said, an oddly blank expression on his face. “I always knew something was going to happen. I didn’t really expect to die , but I understood the risks.”
Phil blinked. “You’re- you’re not mad?”
“I’m not mad?” Tommy laughed. “No, Phil, I’m pissed. I’m pissed that my friends had to grieve me for so long. I’m pissed that mine and their identities are compromised. I’m pissed that none of you would just freaking listen to me. All of this could’ve been avoided if you just listened. ” Tommy took a deep breath. “I’m mad, Phil. I’m mad at all of you. But I’m not going to pretend I’m not blameless either.”
“That’s… very mature,” Phil said. No one would’ve thought Tommy was wrong if he hated all of the heroes. Phil couldn’t really even blame him if he tried to take down the Hero HQ altogether.
“Well, I am seventeen,” Tommy said, grinning. Phil couldn’t tell if he meant it or not.
“Your birthday…” Phil said quietly. They had killed Tommy on his birthday. They had killed a teenager on his birthday and the kid wasn’t even mad at him.
“You all picked a pretty crappy birthday gift to give me,” Tommy said. He was joking about it. Phil knew that Tommy used humor to cover up his trauma, but this felt like it was on another level.
“I’m sorry,” Phil said again.
“You’ve said,” Tommy said. He paused, tapping on the comm in his ear. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Tommy glanced at Phil. “No, I just got distracted. I’ll loop around now.”
“What was-”
“You should get going,” Tommy said. “People aren’t very happy with heroes down here right now. Plus, if Purpled sees you, he might freak out a bit.”
“I- Tommy, are you safe?” Phil had to ask. He had to ask. This was his kid.
“Yeah,” Tommy said easily. “Whether I like it or not, sometimes, I’m very safe.”
“Okay,” Phil said, relaxing. “I’ll… I’ll just get going, then.”
“Bye,” Tommy said. Phil spread his wings, taking off into the air with one powerful beat of his wings.
He only looked back once. Maybe twice. But Tommy was his kid and he was alive , so who could blame him?
***
“Tommy!” Tubbo shouted, running into his room. “Tommy, I thought of something!”
“When was the last time you slept?” Tommy asked. Tubbo was in pajamas, but his eye bags were worse than Tommy’s usually were, and that was saying something.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tubbo said, waving a hand. “Do you remember how you could teleport?”
“Yeah…?” Tommy said hesitantly. He’d had some success in repeating it, but nothing super consistent yet.
“That’s Ranboo’s power, right?” Tubbo asked.
“It is,” Tommy said, nodding slowly.
“And remember when you were seeing those lines in your vision? Like Purpled’s power?” Tubbo prompted.
“Where are you going with this?” Tommy asked.
“You’ll see,” Tubbo said. “And you know when you healed yourself on patrol, like Foolish can?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Are you going to explain yourself or just keep listing weird stuff-”
“What if you can copy powers?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy blinked. “That’s not a thing.”
“And neither is being brought back from the dead, your point?” Tubbo asked, crossing his arms.
“I- yeah, true,” Tommy admitted. “If it is copying powers, I’ve got no idea how to use it.”
“Is anything ever different when you try to teleport or use another power?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy wracked his brain. There was nothing across all of them that came to mind immediately. He was usually in Pogtopia, but he had been in Section 12 when he used Foolish’s powers.
“I don’t know,” Tommy said. “Not that I can think of.”
“Well, try to use another power,” Tubbo said. “See if anything’s off.”
Tommy sighed, but knew he wasn’t going to get out of Tubbo’s experiments until they produced a result. He shut his eyes, trying to remember what Ranboo had told him about teleporting. Was he supposed to fade away or just imagine himself being somewhere else? Or both?
He felt the short cold of the void wash over him- he still hated teleporting because of that- before he opened his eyes, on the other side of the room.
“Well? Anything?” Tubbo prompted.
“I don’t think so,” Tommy said, hand absentmindedly drifting to his wrist. It wasn’t hurting, but it was almost sore. Maybe he’d sprained it on patrol without noticing.
Tubbo frowned. “Could you do it again?”
Tommy sighed again, but obliged. He needed to practice anyways. He did it a few more times, but nothing ever felt particularly different.
“Maybe it’s just new powers from getting revived, like we thought,” Tommy said after a while, tugging on his bracelet. Maybe he should move it to his other arm, it was kind of bugging him to have it on his hurt wrist.
“Yeah, maybe,” Tubbo said. “Sorry for all that. I really thought…” Tubbo shook his head. “I think I need some sleep. Keep an eye out if you start using another power again.”
“I’ll let you know all the details,” Tommy agreed. Tubbo walked away and Tommy sat back down on his bed, ruffling his feathers. He moved his bracelet to his other wrist. Maybe that would help the faint pain.
***
“Purpled?”
Purpled jumped, furiously wiping at his eyes before turning to look at Tommy. He didn’t think anyone was going to find him out here, behind the garage above Pogtopia. No one ever came looking, most times. Purpled thought they assumed he went on patrol and didn’t question whenever he was gone.
“Hey,” Tommy said, sitting down next to him. He spread his wings out behind him, slightly lighting up the darkness. “You alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Purpled said, hand drifting up to pull on one of his antenna. It probably wasn’t good for him, but it helped ground him.
“You don’t look fine,” Tommy said bluntly. “You look like you were crying.”
“It was nothing,” Purpled said. “I don’t know why, I just… you know.”
Tommy nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I’m fine-”
“You just let me sneak up on you,” Tommy interrupted. “You are not fine.”
“Neither are you,” Purpled pointed out.
“I never said I was.”
“You say you are whenever anyone else asks.”
“Because they need to think I’m fine. You need to know it’s okay to not be fine,” Tommy said. “If I told them I wasn’t fine, they’d fall apart. If I told you I was fine, you’d continue to fall apart on your own.”
Purpled didn’t answer for a moment. He didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not falling apart,” Purpled muttered.
“We both know that’s not true.”
“I’m good, really,” Purpled said. “I wasn’t great when you were gone, but you’re back now, so I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” Tommy said.
“I know,” Purpled whispered. “But I don’t know why. I should be fine, you’re back and that was the only problem, but I still feel awful. I still don’t sleep, I still don’t want to eat and I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I don’t think me dying was the only problem,” Tommy said.
“What else would it be?” Purpled asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was fine before you died, and I’m not fine now. The only thing that changed was you died.”
“A lot of things have changed since then,” Tommy said. “It’s easier to count the things that haven’t changed, really.”
“Change always happens,” Purpled said.
“And people always die,” Tommy said. “Your point.”
Purpled frowned, hand dropping to pick at the grass.
“Punz might be the problem, too,” Purpled admitted quietly.
“What did he do?” Tommy asked.
“He adopted me when I was 8,” Purpled said, refusing to look at Tommy. It was the first time he’d told anyone. It wasn’t like he had anyone to tell.
“Small world,” Tommy noted.
“Yeah,” Purpled agreed. “He abandoned me when I was 14.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. He’s the one who trained me how to be a mercenary,” Purpled said. He had taught Purpled how to kill, he had taught Purpled how to feel nothing, he had taught Purpled half of what he knew now, really.
Purpled knew that he should be grateful for it. He should be grateful for what Punz taught him before leaving, he knew he should be grateful that he’d left when he had.
He didn’t feel anything more than burning anger towards the other mercenary..
“He trained an eight year old to be a mercenary?” Tommy asked.
“No. I was ten by the time he started teaching me,” Purpled said. “He wanted me to be able to protect myself, I guess. Or it was the only thing he could think of to do with a kid. I don’t know.” Or care, because Purpled had turned out fine. He had survived in the end so who did it really matter?
“We can get him to leave, if you want,” Tommy offered. “I’m sure he has somewhere else to go.”
“I don’t want him to leave,” Purpled said. “I just hate him.”
“I see,” Tommy said, nodding. “That’s how I feel about the heroes.”
“Really?” Purpled asked. Tommy didn’t like talking about the heroes; he was surprised that he’d brought them up at all.
“Yeah,” Tommy said, shifting his wings. “I want to hate them. I want to be mad at them. I am, really. I just… I miss them, too. I want them to know I’m okay, I want them to stop blaming themselves. I want everyone to stop blaming themselves. None of you did anything, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Except for Wilbur, but that’s also annoying because I still care about him. We were practically brothers. That didn’t… it didn’t just go away because he killed me, even though it feels like it should’ve.”
“You should hate me,” Purpled said quietly.
“What? Why?” Tommy asked, taken aback, as though the idea was shocking.
“Because I lied to you. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. I was chasing you for months. You were still my friend, the whole time,” Purpled said, pulling harder at the grass. Purpled was no better than the heroes. How could Tommy sit next to him like he hadn’t done anything?
“I care about you,” Tommy said, as if that was an answer.
“You shouldn’t,” Purpled said. “I’m not a good person.”
“What, you’ve broken laws? I broke a law every other night for four years straight,” Tommy said flippantly.
“That was because you were helping people,” Purpled said. “I’ve hurt you. I’ve hurt other people. I was a mercenary, Tommy.” Was he still a mercenary? Purpled didn’t know at this point.
“And?” Tommy asked, as if none of that mattered. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person. Even if you weren’t a good person, which you are, people still care about you.”
Purpled scoffed. “You’re the only one who cares about me.”
“Tubbo and Ranboo-”
“Are still mad at me,” Purpled interrupted. Ranboo had never been outwardly hostile, but hadn’t tried to reach out more than once. Tubbo had been being kinder towards Purpled lately, Purpled could tell, but Purpled could also tell that it was just because he felt guilty for the things that he’d said to him.
“Puffy, Niki, Karl, Foolish-”
“Barely know me or are afraid of me.” Purpled knew they had at least tried to care, but Purpled hadn’t wanted them to.
“Well, the heroes-”
“Hate me because I switched sides.”
“Okay, well. I’m here for you at least,” Tommy said.
“I know, and I’m grateful for that,” Purpled said honestly. “But you don’t have to take care of me. You have enough problems on your plate. I shouldn’t be adding to the load.”
“I have other people who’ll take care of me. You won’t let anyone else take care of you, so someone has to,” Tommy said.
“You don’t have to,” Purpled muttered. “I’m fine on my own.”
“You don’t have to be on your own,” Tommy said. “I know you think you have to carry yourself, but you really don’t.”
“I can’t be a burden,” Purpled said. “It makes people stick around less.”
“What?” Tommy asked.
“I’ve met a lot of people,” Purpled said before he could stop himself. He had never told any of this to anyone, but… Tommy deserved to know. Purpled wasn’t going to keep any more secrets from him. “I worked with Las Nevadas for a few months. I’ve met other kids, other mercenaries, assassins. I jumped between dozens of places when I was little. Believe it or not, I’ve tried making friends. I’ve tried having people care about me. They always leave.”
“I’m not going to leave you, Purpled,” Tommy said.
“You already did,” Purpled said. It was unfair, he knew that. He didn’t blame Tommy for dying at all, of course not, but it was the truth. Whether he meant to or not, for however briefly, Tommy had left him.
Tommy didn’t say anything for a minute.
“I’m sorry,” he eventually said.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Purpled said. “I shouldn’t be so dependent. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not dependent to be upset that I died,” Tommy said. “It’s not dependent to care about people or have other people care about you. That’s just… being human.”
“Well, then I don’t need to be human,” Purpled said. “I don’t need anyone to care about me.”
“Everyone needs people to care about them,” Tommy said. “Don’t you feel lonely?”
“No,” Purpled said bluntly. He meant it. He was so used to being alone that he didn’t need to be around other people anymore. It was nice to be around Tommy, but Purpled blamed that on the fact that he was dead for a while. Not because he was lonely.
“You- you don’t?” Tommy asked. “Not at all? Not even a little?”
Purpled shrugged. “I don’t really… feel things.”
“What do you mean?” Tommy asked. “Like you have pain resistance or something?”
“No. I don’t feel emotions,” Purpled said bluntly.
“Like at all?” Tommy asked. “Why?”
“Sometimes. It depends,” Purpled said, shrugging. “I forced myself to stop feeling things after I became a mercenary. It made the job too complicated.”
That was the easier explanation. That was all Tommy needed to hear.
Tommy blinked. “That’s awful.”
Purpled shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“No wonder you’re more emotionally constipated than me,” Tommy said.
“You’re just traumatized. I actively suppress my emotions,” Purpled said. “Not that being traumatized isn’t bad. I’ve got that too.”
“What?” Tommy asked.
“Not important,” Purpled said, shaking his head.
“It sounds important.”
“We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not telling you.”
“Maye if you told someone, it’d-”
“Do not try to tell me to get help,” Purpled said. “It would make you the biggest hypocrite ever.”
“I’m never hypocritical,” Tommy said.
Purpled laughed. “Sure. And I cry at Disney movies.”
“Hey, Disney movies are sad!” Tommy said.
“Name one time they’re sad.”
“Mufasa’s death.”
“Circle of life.”
“You did not just say that.”
“I did.”
“I can’t believe you,” Tommy said, shaking his head dramatically. They were both silent for a moment.
“Give it one more chance,” Tommy said. “Let the other vigilantes try to care about you. Try to let yourself feel stuff again. If you really don’t need people, if you really hate it, you can let me know and I’ll let them know to back off, and you can go back to the way you’ve been doing stuff. Just give it one more chance. For me?”
Purpled didn’t say anything for a minute. He didn’t want to give caring for people another chance, he didn’t want to give trusting another chance. People had already let him down so many times. Why let them do it again?
He didn’t want to try to feel stuff. That meant feeling pain, it meant dealing with so many things Purpled had avoided for so long.
Purpled glanced at Tommy, who was looking at him with so much hope. As if he thought it’d actually work.
He didn’t think it would. Tommy was an exception, not the rule. People didn’t just care about Purpled.
“Fine,” Purpled said. He was willing to face the pain of trying to let people in one more time. For Tommy’s sake.
Tommy grinned. “Great! You’re not going to regret this, I promise.”
Purpled couldn’t bring himself to smile back, but Tommy spoke with so much conviction, Purpled almost wanted to believe him.
***
It had taken Sam a few days to find TChaos. Well, finding TChaos wasn’t actually the issue. It was hard to miss someone with glowing wings flying at night. It was getting him in one place long enough to have a conversation that was difficult.
He finally managed to follow him for a while one night without being seen by anyone until the vigilante finally touched down.
“TChaos,” Sam said loudly, drawing his attention.
“Sam!” TChaos said brightly, flapping his wings as he turned around. A glowing yellow feather drifted off his wings, which TChaos caught, twisting between his fingers. “How have you been?”
“How do you know my name?” Sam asked carefully.
TChaos scoffed. “Because I worked with you for months? You seriously aren’t as stupid as Wilbur, right?”
“I don’t think being doubtful that someone came back from the dead is very stupid,” Sam said sharply.
“Eh, agree to disagree.” TChaos shrugged, shifting his wings. “Did you want something, or were you just here to call me fake and leave? Because trust me, I’ve got enough civilians to yell that I’m not real. Plenty covered.”
“What do you mean?” Sam had been under the impression that most of the civilians, at least in the lower Sections, believed that TChaos was actually back.
“Oh, you know, the people shouting that I’m awful for impersonating a dead person, the people who accuse me of being a hero plant so the lower Sections don’t revolt, the people who think this is all a sick joke,” TChaos listed, waving a hand. “Run of the mill insults, right? It’s much less after the video, but there were a bunch of people for a while.”
“They’re correct about you being an impersonator, though,” Sam pointed out.
He didn’t want to believe it was Tommy.
He had seen the video, he was sure most people had seen it, but it couldn’t be Tommy. There was just no way, no matter what he told Aimsey or what she thought.
“Are they?” TChaos pulled down his bandanna, an uncomfortably familiar grin barred at Sam. “I know that you’re the hero who teaches Fundy and Aimsey. I know that you’re the hero who Skeppy targets most with his pranks, after Bad. I know that you were trying to replicate what Tubbo managed to do with RedLight. I know that you pretended to be annoyed by the duck war, but you really had fun, deep down.” TChaos took a step closer, pushing his eye mask to his hairline. “I know you, Sam, just like I know the rest of the heroes. It’s me.”
It was impossible. The face of a dead kid was staring at Sam, looking the same as the last time Sam had seen him, if a bit paler.
“To- Tommy?” Sam stammered. “But- How? I don’t-”
“Magic!” Tommy said, waving the fingers of his free hand. “Same reason I have these.” He shifted his wings. “A gift from the Goddess of Death herself. Isn’t that fun?”
“I don’t understand,” Sam said.
Tommy was alive. The video wasn’t a hoax, it wasn’t fake, it was real and Tommy was alive.
“I don’t either,” Tommy said, shrugging. “Not really. I don’t know why I was allowed to come back when so many better people than me have died. I don’t know why I was given wings. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing now. But I’m here, at least.” He spread his wings, illuminating the rooftop a little bit. “Maybe you could let the other heroes know that I’m not an imposter? Or a zombie, that too. I’m not a zombie.”
Sam had to force himself to not laugh. He could almost kid himself that the fight hadn’t happened, that Tommy was in the HQ, joking like he always was.
“Do the vigilantes have a healer?” Sam asked. He wasn’t trying to get information; he just wanted an explanation. If they had a healer, maybe that was how he was back. Maybe Wilbur was wrong about Tommy dying in his arms. Maybe Tommy had gotten help in time.
Tommy’s gaze darkened. “I died, Sam. I was in a freezing cold void with nothing but darkness for what felt like months . I got brought back from the dead by the Goddess of Death. If these wings aren’t enough proof, then I don’t know what is.”
“I- that’s not what- I just-”
“You’re trying to find the logic in it,” Tommy said. “My suggestion is don’t. There is no logic. As far as I can tell, it’s as much magic as powers are.”
“Powers aren’t magic-”
“No animals have them, do they?” Tommy pointed out. “Maybe scientists understand powers to an extent, but they don’t really know where they came from. Like I said; magic.”
“I don’t-”
“Maybe you can stop arguing with the dead kid and go finish whatever you were doing,” Tommy said, throwing a hand out.
“I was just…” Sam trailed off awkwardly.
“You were just here to see if the video was right,” Tommy said. Sam nodded sheepishly.
“Well, it was,” Tommy said. “Maybe you can get every hero to stop coming down here to check now so I can do my job.”
“And what job is that, Tommy?” Sam asked. “What are you doing?”
“I already told you, I don’t really know,” Tommy said. “Other than patrol, obviously, which you are interrupting.”
Sam ignored the obvious hints that he should leave.
“Vigilantes are still illegal, Tommy,” Sam said.
“And?” Tommy asked, raising his eyebrows. “Are you going to stop me?”
“No,” Sam said. “I’m not.”
“Are any of the other heroes going to stop me?” Tommy asked.
“I… I don’t think so, but-”
“Then I can handle it,” Tommy said.
Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. “Is Purpled okay, at least?”
Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Why would you need to know that?”
“I just… I know he wasn’t okay a few weeks ago,” Sam said. “Is he alright?”
Sam couldn’t quite make out the mix of emotions that flashed over Tommy’s face.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “He’s fine.”
Sam relaxed. “Thank you.”
Tommy let him leave without asking anything else.
***
Wilbur was supposed to be on a regular patrol. He’d been running his normal route for a few days now, easily falling into the habits he’d been banned from for a month.
Still, he itched to return to Section 12. He wanted to see Tommy again, to learn what was really going on with him, to see what Tommy really thought of him.
Today was one of the days he gave into that itch. Tommy wasn’t always around, it wasn’t always easy to find him, but tonight, there had been a report that blinked on Wilbur’s phone, since he was close.
He could hear the gunshots in the distance. He didn’t hesitate to go towards it, power ready on the tips of his fingers in case he needed to go incorporeal.
Wilbur rounded the last corner ahead of the reported address and paused, taking in the scene in front of him.
"Tommy?" Wilbur asked, voice barely a whisper. The red clad vigilante was standing in the middle of the street, glowing wings flared in agitation. Several people with guns were standing off from him in different directions. Wilbur winced as he realized Tommy was dripping blood along with swirling red sparks.
In a flash, Wilbur darted forward, taking down one of the gunmen in an instant. He promptly took down a second one, glancing back to see Tommy had taken down a third. With two quick gunshots from Tommy, the fourth and fifth collapsed.
"Did you just shoot them?" Wilbur demanded. Tommy wasn’t holding his usual stun gun, but an actual gun with real bullets that he never used to use. Wilbur hadn’t looked at what weapons he had been carrying before then.
"They shot me first," Tommy said, waving the gun around. "Speaking of which, give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now."
"Because I just saved you!" Wilbur said, gesturing towards the fallen gunmen.
"I was doing fine on my own!" Tommy argued.
"Obviously not, seeing as you just got shot!" Wilbur said. He could more clearly see now that Tommy had been hit in the shoulder, just shy of his wings. Wilbur reached out involuntarily towards the wound, but Tommy jerked away.
Tommy backed up a few steps before sighing, pushing up his eye mask and pulling down his bandanna.
Wilbur knew that Tommy was alive. He had watched that videos dozens of times, had seen his face before and yet, seeing him in person again was… different. Now that Wilbur knew it was really him. It didn’t purely shock Wilbur, making him actually think about the fact that Tommy was alive .
"Just… go," Tommy said, looking away and holstering his gun.
"Tommy-"
"Go!" Tommy shouted, turning away and spreading his wings. With a burst of wind, Tommy was gone, leaving nothing but a bloodstain and the fallen attackers behind.
Wilbur watched him disappear, hoping Purpled or one of the other vigilantes would come along soon enough to make Tommy go somewhere safe and get that healed or looked at.
He knew that if Tommy had a choice, he’d probably ignore the wound and pretend it had never happened. He doubted that Tommy would be given that choice. Somehow Wilbur found himself actually glad that Purpled had switched sides. He knew firsthand how stubborn that vigilante could be.
Police cars were approaching. Wilbur started walking away. They didn’t need his statement now; they could get it from his nightly reports later. Wilbur didn’t know what he was going to say, anyways. Did he mention that Tommy had been there, or was it better to be quiet about that? They weren’t supposed to be working with vigilantes, but Wilbur really couldn’t care less if he got in trouble with the HQ at this point.
Wilbur hoped that flying off didn’t hurt Tommy worse. Maybe if Wilbur had just walked away as soon as Tommy said, he would’ve walked off too.
He knew that probably wasn’t true. Still, his self-loathing blaming brain told him it was a possibility.
Wilbur didn’t say anything about seeing Tommy when he got home. It would just worry the others to learn he’d been shot and Wilbur had no idea where he went.
He did make a mental note to bring some extra first aid supplies the next time he just so happened to be passing by Section 12. Just in case.
***
Tommy landed next to Niki, gritting his teeth.
“You okay?” Niki asked.
“Fine,” Tommy said tersely. He knew it was too dark for Niki to see the blood from his shoulder. He wasn’t lucky enough for whatever healing ability he’d picked up to start working, so he was going to have to either let Foolish heal him or get it wrapped at some point.
Right now wasn’t ‘some point.’ Right now, Tommy was standing next to Niki so he wouldn’t freak out.
He wasn’t going to panic because he saw Wilbur. He’d moved past that. And he wasn’t unfamiliar with getting shot. It didn’t happen super frequently on patrol, but enough for Tommy to be able to keep moving through the pain.
If either of them had happened separately, Tommy would’ve been fine. He could’ve kept moving on patrol as if nothing happened at all. But with both stacked on top of each other, Tommy just needed someone to keep him grounded.
“You sure?” Niki asked. Tommy nodded.
“Alright then, come along,” Niki said. She didn’t ask him anything else, didn’t question why he was following her instead of doing his own thing, didn’t keep pushing when something had obviously happened, didn’t try to make him cut patrol short. She just let him follow her as she kept searching for criminals.
It was a quiet night. Niki had to break up a fight between some drunk people and had to send some people protesting heroes home, but all in all, it wasn’t bad. Tommy wondered if the incident with that gang earlier had anything to do with the lower levels of criminal activity.
They were driving home by the time Niki noticed his bleeding shoulder. The darkness of the night and the red of Tommy’s hoodie had hidden it until that point, but the blood had started getting on his wing and dripping down to his hand.
Niki lectured him about keeping the fact that he’d gotten hurt quiet for a few minutes, but she dropped it by the time they got back to Pogtopia.
Tubbo, Purpled, and Puffy were less than enthused that Tommy returned with such an injury. Tommy gave few details and insisted on bandaging it himself until Foolish could heal it in the morning.
He was sure everyone could tell something was a little off, but he didn’t care too much. He didn’t know how to talk about it and would prefer if he didn’t have to at all.
Tommy was mad. He was mad and afraid and he didn’t know what to do or how to talk about it so he just wouldn’t. It worked just fine for everything else, so it had to work fine for this.
***
Tommy hissed as he pricked his finger, dropping the needle.
“You okay?” Karl asked.
“Fine,” Tommy said shortly. He stood up, intending to head towards the bathroom to wash off the tiny wound, but found Karl already offering him a disinfectant wipe.
“Do you just have those on you?” Tommy asked, accepting it and wiping the bead of blood off his finger.
Karl shrugged. “Depends on the day.”
“Why’d you have them on today?” Tommy asked, sitting back down.
“Oh, you know,” Karl said, waving a hand vaguely. “Um- maybe you should do something else for a little while.”
“My finger’s fine now,” Tommy said, holding it up to show him. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. “Just a tiny bit sore. Trust me, I’ve sewn with way worse.”
“You could hurt yourself again,” Karl said.
“What is with you all?” Tommy asked, throwing his needle and cloth down. “First it’s Tubbo with the knife, then it’s Niki with the flying, and now you? Let me guess, you just had that wipe because I could’ve gotten hurt?”
“Well- I mean- It wasn’t just-”
“What’s gotten into all of you?” Tommy asked. “I’m perfectly fine and capable of handling myself.”
“I know that,” Karl said. “It ‘just-”
“Just what?” Tommy asked. “What’s so dangerous that I can’t be expected to deal with stuff myself?”
“Well… you did die,” Karl said slowly.
“Is that it!?” Tommy asked incredulously. “Seriously? That was weeks ago!”
“Dying isn’t really something you get over in a few weeks,” Karl said.
“Look at me,” Tommy said, raising his wings. “I’m pretty over it.”
“I mean- yeah, but-”
“Did Puffy or Tubbo or someone put you up to this, or have you all decided to be weird on your own?” Tommy asked.
“Well, no one really said anything specific,” Karl said.
“Great,” Tommy said. “Great. So you’re all crazy and it’s not even organized.” Tommy couldn’t decide if them talking together about it would’ve been worse or not.
“We’re just worried about you,” Karl said.
“What have I done to be worried about?” Tommy asked.
Karl blinked. “You died, Tommy.”
“That’s not my fault!” Tommy said, even though it technically was. He had been the one who wanted to go through with Doomsday. Though, he much preferred blaming Wilbur at the moment, since if he hadn’t secretly planted bombs, Tommy would’ve been perfectly fine and at least half of this mess could’ve been avoided.
“It’s not,” Karl agreed. “But it still happened. We don’t want you to get hurt again.”
Tommy stared at him blankly. “Stabbing myself with a needle and dying are very much not comparable.”
“I… yeah,” Karl said, flushing. Tommy picked up his cloth and needle again, continuing his stitching with no further protest from Karl.
***
Wilbur was both worried that Tommy would take a break and concerned that he wouldn’t. As much as he wanted to talk to Tommy again, he wanted Tommy to give himself proper time to heal more.
Really, he knew Tommy wasn’t going to take a break. He was still a little surprised to find the vigilante standing in the middle of a random street. It looked like he might’ve been listening to something, so one of his teammates must’ve been speaking to him over his comm.
"Tommy!" Wilbur called. Tommy froze for a moment before taking off down the street.
"Tommy, wait, please, I just want to talk!" Wilbur shouted, trailing after him. Tommy didn't respond, but he wasn't as fast as he usually was, allowing Wilbur to catch up to him.
"Tommy," Wilbur said again, grabbing his arm. Tommy turned around, snatching his arm away.
"Don't touch me!" Tommy screamed. Wilbur stepped back, shocked by Tommy's tone. Wilbur would've expected more anger. Anger made sense, anger was understandable.
What he wasn't expecting was the fear in Tommy's voice.
"Tommy," Wilbur said softly. "I didn't-" Tommy stumbled a few steps away, before turning and taking off into the sky.
Wilbur could've followed him. Tommy's flying was shaky at best, looking like he could fall out of the air at any moment.
But Wilbur didn't follow. He could only stand there, hearing Tommy's terrified tone in his head over and over again.
Was Tommy really that scared of him? He expected for Tommy to be mad, furious even. Like before. But Tommy would never be scared of him…
Wilbur remembered how twitchy Tommy had been when he first came to the HQ. At the time, he had assumed it was because Tommy was nervous about working at a new place. After they found out Tommy was sixteen, Wilbur assumed it was because he was worried about being caught for his age.
Now, Wilbur realized, it must be that he was scared of being around the heroes. Scared that they would arrest him, scared that they would find out his identity, scared that they would ruin his life.
Wilbur had just wanted to give him some first aid supplies.
Why did Tommy have to be afraid of him? Why had Wilbur had to screw up so massively?
***
Tommy ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in his room. He’d expected to feel mad, angry, annoyed, even, when he saw Wilbur again. That’s what he felt when he just thought about him, it’s what he’d felt when he saw Wilbur before.
But Tommy hadn’t felt that.
He’d felt fear.
Which didn’t make any sense, totally, because Tommy was a big man. He wasn’t afraid of anything! He must’ve just been remembering it wrong. That had to have been it. Tommy wasn’t afraid.
It wasn’t because Wilbur was the one who was there when he died, it wasn’t because Tommy still had nightmares about Wilbur pressing that button, it wasn’t. It wasn’t because Tommy had seen Wilbur as a brother, it wasn’t because none of the other heroes tried to stop Doomsday from happening even though they knew the vigilantes were young.
It wasn’t.
He hadn’t just felt fear, though.
Tommy had missed Wilbur. He had missed his brother. He wanted everything to go back to the way things used to be and wanted none of this to have happened.
Tubbo had said that he was allowed to feel more than one thing, he was allowed to pick how he was feeling whenever he wanted because it wasn’t set in stone.
But his heart was still hammering in his chest and he couldn’t breathe quite right and it didn’t feel like he was picking to be afraid. He didn’t want to be afraid, he didn’t even really want to be mad. He just wanted things to be the same, but they never would be and that was the main problem.
“Tommy?”
Tommy looked up sharply, seeing Tubbo standing in the doorway. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Tommy said, tucking his wings closer to himself.
“You flew back here on your own.” Tubbo’s voice wasn’t quite scolding. He shut the door behind him. “What happened?
“It’s nothing,” Tommy said, sitting down on his bed.
“You can tell me, Tommy,” Tubbo said, sitting down next to him. “You can always tell me anything.”
“I was afraid of Wilbur,” Tommy said quietly. Tubbo blinked.
“And that’s… bad?” Tubbo asked.
“Of course it is! I shouldn’t be scared of him,” Tommy said, throwing his hands in the air.
“Tommy, we already talked about this,” Tubbo said seriously, but still, his tone wasn’t harsh. “He murdered you. You have every right to be afraid of him. Frankly, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t scared of him.”
“But I’m not supposed to be scared of anything,” Tommy said. “I’m supposed to be strong. I came back from the dead, how can I be afraid of anything?”
“You can be scared of stuff,” Tubbo said. “You’re not alone, Tommy. You’ve never been alone. And just because you came back from the dead doesn’t mean you’re invincible. You don’t need to be invincible.”
“Thanks, Tubbo,” Tommy said. “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”
“Yes, Tommy, I know,” Tubbo said, smiling. “You’re my best friend too.”
They fell into a comfortable silence. Tommy fidgeted with his bracelet. He was counting the charms subconsciously, glancing down when there was one too many.
There was a new charm on the bracelet. A guitar.
Tommy shook his head. He must’ve just not noticed it before.
***
“Careful!” Purpled called. Tommy wheeled around, yanking his masks off so Purpled could fully see the anger on his face.
“I’ve had enough with you lot telling me to be careful! I’m fine! I’ve been fine! The fact that I died has nothing to do with anything!”
Purpled looked unaffected by Tommy’s tone. “You almost slipped.”
“I have wings,” Tommy said, spreading his feathers. “I would’ve been fine.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful,” Purpled said.
“I’ve been doing this for years, Purpled,” Tommy said. “I think I know what I’m doing.”
“Is there a reason you’re being hostile about it?” Purpled asked.
“You’ve all been treating me like a child,” Tommy said.
“How so?” Purpled asked.
“Just- a bunch of ways,” Tommy said, crossing his arms. Naming the specific instances felt childish. It was only a few times that came to mind, really. None of them had even been Purpled. It wasn’t fair to lash out at him for it, but Tommy’s blood was still boiling.
“You are a kid,” Purpled said.
“So are you,” Tommy shot back.
“I had to grow up a long time ago,” Purpled said.
“Well, so did I!” Tommy said. “You can’t treat me like a kid when I’ve been living on my own since I was thirteen!”
“You had Puffy since you were fourteen, haven’t you?” Purpled asked.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t have to grow up,” Tommy said. “I was grown before I was thirteen. I grew up when my dad started abusing me.”
Purpled stared at him blankly. “What, you think being abused makes you special?”
“Of course not,” Tommy said. “But it makes me not a child.”
“Then quit acting like one and accept it when other people are trying to help,” Purpled said.
“You’re not trying to help, you’re just coddling me,” Tommy said.
“Telling you to not fall off a building isn’t coddling you,” Purpled said. “It’s trying to get you to have an ounce of common sense.”
“I have many ounces of common sense!” Tommy yelled.
“Quit fighting ,” Tubbo snapped.
“You’re one to talk,” Tommy said. “I bet you’re on his side, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am, because I’m on the side of you not falling off buildings,” Tubbo said.
“Why are all of you-”
“There’s a robbery three blocks to the left and two blocks forward,” Tubbo interrupted.
“You’re not getting off the hook,” Tommy said, pointing at Purpled, but turned towards the direction Tubbo indicated nonetheless.
***
Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a figure that had been showing up far too much in his Section recently.
He could tell the moment Wilbur saw him. He jumped at first, as if startled, before heading towards him. Tommy debated flying off to avoid him altogether, but Wilbur spoke before he could.
“Tommy, wait,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry about last time. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” Tommy lied. Wilbur had scared him before, but Tommy didn’t feel afraid at the moment.
No, Tommy felt angry. He was mad that Wilbur was here, talking to him as if nothing had happened. But that made Tommy feel conflicted, because he wished that nothing had happened. He wished that things were normal and he could just talk to Wilbur without feeling afraid and angry and longing and a dozen other things.
Things weren’t normal, though. Wilbur had killed him and was here and things weren’t normal and Tommy was mad.
“Right,” Wilbur said, shuffling his feet. “Well, I was just- trying to help. By giving you this.” Wilbur held out a bag. Tommy stared at it, making no move to approach.
“You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” Tommy asked.
“I- no, I don’t-”
“Do you think I don’t know how easily you could track that and follow me?” Tommy asked, crossing his arms.
“That’s- I’m not trying to follow you,” Wilbur said quickly. Tommy almost believed him, by how shocked Wilbur seemed.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Tommy asked. “That’s your job , isn’t it?”
Wilbur opened his mouth a few times, grasping uselessly for an answer.
“I was just trying to fix things,” Wilbur finally said.
“You think a bag of stuff is going to fix what you did?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow. Surely Wilbur wasn’t really this stupid.
Well, Tommy knew him. He could be that stupid sometimes.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Wilbur said.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe start by apologizing? ” Tommy snapped. Wilbur had said he was sorry for scaring him, but he hadn’t apologized for anything else.
He hadn’t apologized for the pain Tommy went through, for all the nights he spent hunting him down, for the plans to arrest him, for Doomsday, for killing him.
“I’m sorry,” Wilbur said.
“You’re just saying that because I told you to,” Tommy said, maybe unfairly, but he didn’t care.
He ruffled his wings, turning away. This conversation wasn’t helping either of them and Tommy was tired of it. Ranboo was going to be getting worried about him soon anyways.
“Wait, Tommy-” a hand grabbed Tommy’s sleeve. He yanked his arm away, hitting Wilbur with his wing.
Tommy had been controlling his anger pretty well, if he was being honest with himself. He’d barely yelled at Wilbur at all.
But now his resolve had snapped.
“My death meant nothing to you!” Tommy screamed, whipping around.
“Wh- What?” Wilbur stuttered, taking a step back.
“You still hate vigilantes. They’re still illegal. You’re still a hero. We’re all still fighting. I died , Wilbur Minecraft.” It felt wrong not to say Wilbur Soot, but Wilbur wasn’t deserving of the nickname.
“I know you died, I feel bad about it-”
“Oh boo hoo, you feel bad that I died,” Tommy mocked. “Quit making my death about you . Yeah, it’s your fault, yeah you freaking suck right now, but you’re not doing anything to change!”
“I-” Wilbur faltered. “Tommy, I’m trying-”
“No!” Tommy said. “My death didn’t matter, this conversation doesn’t matter. You’re still going to hate vigilantes because of something that happened before I was even born!”
“I’m not-”
“Get over yourself, Wilbur Minecraft,” Tommy said coldly. He opened his wings before Wilbur could respond, taking off into the sky.
He didn’t care if Wilbur was trying to fix anything with his measly bag of crap. He didn’t care if Wilbur wanted to talk.
Why did this all have to be so complicated? Why did Tommy hate everything so much? Why was Tommy so mad when in the end, he was alive? His death really hadn’t mattered, when he thought about it. He was alive, so why should he complain about being dead?
Guilting Wilbur about killing him was allowed, whether his death mattered or not, he decided. Just because Tommy was back didn’t mean Wilbur got a pass from what he did.
Maybe a small part of Tommy wanted to give him a pass, just so things could go back to normal and he could go back to having a whole family, but the more rational part of his brain told him that that wasn’t going to happen. Not with the way the city was at the moment.
Tommy was able to finish patrol this time, which he took as an accomplishment.
***
“Careful, Tommy,” Puffy said as she passed him. Tommy dropped the stack of boxes he was carrying, uncaring at the sounds it made as it landed.
“What’s wrong with you all!?” Tommy demanded. “I can deal with myself just fine.”
“I never said you couldn’t,” Puffy said. “It just looked like those boxes were stacked a bit high.”
Tommy huffed, but didn’t press it further. He’d probably overreacted on that one. ‘Careful’ had somehow become triggering to him. He picked the boxes back up.
“How has patrol been?” Puffy asked. Tommy knew she already knew the answer.
“Fine,” Tommy said, heading towards the living room. Puffy followed him.
“Seen the heroes lately?”
“Mhm,” Tommy said.
“Feeling alright about that?” Puffy asked.
“Great,” Tommy said. He didn’t know what Puffy was looking for here.
“That’s good,” Puffy said. “I’m glad to see that you’re getting stronger again.”
Tommy froze.
“What did you say?”
“You’re stronger…” Tommy didn’t listen to the rest of her sentence.
He was so tired of it. He was tired of fighting, but he didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t stop. He was tired of people thinking he was weak, that he needed taking care of, like he was some kid. But he was allowed to be a kid, right? After everything he’d been through, didn’t he get to stop? Didn’t things get to be easy, for once?
It was a simple statement from Puffy, but for some reason, it completely set Tommy off.
“I don’t want to be stronger!” Tommy yelled. The boxes crashed to the ground again. “I’ve had to be stronger my entire life! Why can’t I just be a kid? Why do I have to fix all this!? It’s not fair!”
It was hypocritical of Tommy himself, he knew that. He was always complaining about being called a kid, but now he was saying he wanted to be one. He didn’t even understand himself sometimes, but it was too late to take it back and he was too angry to consider taking it back.
“It’s not fair,” Puffy agreed. “Nothing in this world is fair. We have to do our best with the hand we’re dealt.”
“I’m tired of doing my best!” Tommy shouted, ruffling his feathers. His wings were raised defensively “I just want a break! I want it to be on someone else’s shoulders for once!”
“I know, kiddo,” Puffy said, frowning.
“Do you?” Tommy challenged. “Did you have to stop the city from falling into a civil war when you were a teenager? Did you get killed by someone you saw as a brother? Did your friends look at you like you’re some fragile piece of glass who will shatter if you speak to it too harshly?”
“I- no,” Puffy admitted quietly. “I can’t imagine going through everything you did. But-”
“There are no buts!” Tommy yelled. “No one understands what I’m going through, and no one is going to understand! I’m alone!”
“You are not alone,” Puffy said seriously, meeting Tommy’s eyes. “We are all on your side, Tommy.”
“Then stop looking at me like I’m still dead!” Tommy screamed, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at hers. His throat was starting to get sore. “I’m here, I’m normal! You don’t have to act like I’m going to break, you don’t have to act like I’m going to hurt myself because I’m an idiot!”
“Tommy-”
Suddenly, Tommy’s anger fell away to guilt. Why was he yelling at Puffy? She didn’t do anything wrong. She was only trying to help.
Tommy turned on his heel, running out of the room. His wrist felt warm, and bright red particles covered his vision. Suddenly, he was outside. Whatever teleporting thing his powers could do had kicked in again, apparently.
Tommy fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands.
What was wrong with him? He was lashing out at Puffy, his powers were acting weird, he had wings spouting out of his back that he could barely use, all the heroes probably hated him, everyone felt guilty over his death.
Maybe it would’ve been better if Tommy stayed dead. Maybe everyone would’ve been better off if he chose to ‘move on’, whatever that meant.
They’d move on from mourning eventually. Now they were stuck with Tommy.
“Hey.”
Tommy didn’t have the energy to jump as Purpled approached, let alone the energy to respond.
“That was some fight you had,” Purpled said, settling down next to him. “I don’t blame you, either. I would’ve done that a long time ago if I had to deal with everything you went through.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m supposed to be strong-”
Purpled snorted. “Heck no. You don’t have to do anything. If you let us, we could take everything over for you. You’re still taking everything on because you want to.”
“I’m not-”
“Why?” Purpled interrupted. “If you’re so overwhelmed, which I don’t doubt you are, why don’t you step aside and let us deal with everything for you?”
Tommy didn’t answer for a moment. It was a good question. Tommy had never been able to stand to the side while others fixed the problems he could fix himself.
“I guess… I’ve always had to take care of everything. I’ve taken care of Tubbo, I’ve taken care of Ranboo, of the heroes, of the entirety of Section 12. I don’t know how to step aside when they’re my problems.”
“And that’s the issue,” Purpled said, waving a hand. “You don’t know how to let others help you.”
“I can accept help, I just can’t fully let someone else do everything,” Tommy said. Purpled gave him a look. Tommy fidgeted with his bracelet. “... Maybe I don’t know how to let people help.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Purpled said. “I never knew how to accept help, either. Until I met you, that is.”
“But I don’t need help,” Tommy said. “I just need you all to stop treating me like I need to be told to be careful. I just need you to stop looking at me like I’m broken or something.”
“Tommy, you are broken,” Purpled said. That’s what finally made Tommy burst into tears.
“No one could ever go through what you’ve gone through without breaking,” Purpled continued. “But that’s not the point. The point is that you got back up. You put yourself back together. Now you just need some help fixing the cracks.”
“But-”
“We all need help, sometimes. It isn’t wrong to need help, it isn’t a sign you’re broken beyond repair,” Purpled said. “It’s the first step to healing.”
Purpled sat silently with Tommy for a long time while he cried. Tommy didn’t even know it was possible to cry so much.
Finally, Tommy wiped his eyes, glancing up at the sky above them. The sun had set a while ago. This far away from the city, there was very little light pollution. Tommy could see hundreds of stars dotting the night sky.
“Thank you,” Tommy said. “I really needed that.”
“You just needed to be set straight,” Purpled said, shrugging.
“And you’re the only person willing to tell me that,” Tommy said. “Everyone else is scared to talk to me like that. They’re too scared of offending me or something. I don’t know. It feels like they think something’s wrong with me, but I’m the same as I was before I died.”
“You’re not the same,” Purpled said.
“Of course I am,” Tommy said. “It’s like I was just gone for a week. Nothing changed. It’s all the same.”
“Your death changed us all,” Purpled said. “You can’t pretend that it didn’t. You might feel the same, but you are different, whether you like it or not.”
Tommy was quiet for a moment.
“Maybe that’s true, but even if it is, that doesn’t mean everyone has to treat me like a little kid. Like I can’t handle myself or take some harsh words,” Tommy said.
“You should tell them that,” Purpled suggested. “They’ll be more aware of it if you say something.”
“It wouldn’t help. They’d just feel guilty,” Tommy said.
“But it’s bothering you,” Purpled said. “I heard you when you were talking to Puffy. And when you got annoyed at me for telling you to be careful. Really, this whole thing has just been waiting to happen.” Tommy wouldn’t disagree with that.
“‘Talking’ is a bit of a strong word,” Tommy said. He looked at his hands. He’d been yelling at Puffy the whole time for no reason. “I was probably too rude.”
“Eh,” Purpled said. “I’ve certainly done worse.”
“What? When?” Tommy asked.
“While you were dead,” Purpled said. Some people might expect it to be traumatizing for Tommy to hear his death talked about so casually, but it was actually refreshing. It wasn’t something that could just be avoided forever, so they might as well talk about it.
“What did you do?” Tommy asked.
“I was mad at a lot of things while you were dead,” Purpled said. “Myself, mostly, but I had a lot of arguments with everyone. No one’s seemed to hold a grudge about it, though.”
Tubbo seemed to have been holding a grudge against Purpled, but that was for something a long time ago. Tubbo had been better for the past few weeks, too. Maybe Puffy had spoken to him. From the way both Tubbo and Purpled had been acting recently, Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if she had been giving the two of them lessons on how to give people therapy.
“Do you think she’ll be mad at me?” Tommy asked quietly.
“Puffy? No. She’d never get mad at you for something as little as having a breakdown,” Purpled said. He laid down, staring up at the stars. Tommy followed suit.
“It wasn’t a breakdown,” Tommy said.
“It was a breakdown,” Purpled said simply. “You’re fully entitled to have one, as well. I had several breakdowns while you were dead. I was just a little quieter about it.”
“I get loud when I get angry,” Tommy said.
“A lot of people do,” Purpled said. “You’re allowed to do that. You’re allowed to be mad, you’re allowed to be loud. What were you mad at, though?”
“What?” Tommy asked.
“You said you were angry. What were you angry at?”
“I… The heroes, I guess? The situation I’m in? Everything I’ve had to go through?”
“Those sound like questions. not answers.”
“I don’t know what I was mad at,” Tommy said. “I was just mad.”
“So you aren’t mad at any one thing?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then find out how to let it go,” Purpled said.
“What?” Tommy asked.
“Figure out how to let the anger go. Being mad at nothing and being mad at everything doesn’t lead anywhere. Trust me, I know.”
“Why do you know?” Tommy asked.
“Huh?” Purpled asked, seemingly surprised by the question.
“Why do you know that?” Tommy repeated.
“I was angry a lot when I was younger. Angry at the whole world for what I was going through,” Purpled said. “It didn’t help anything. It only made everything worse. I’m not going to say you’re not right for being mad, I’d be mad if I were you, but it’s useless to be mad at nothing.”
“I… yeah. You’re right,” Tommy said. He glanced back up at the sky. “I should probably go say sorry to Puffy.”
“I’ll be out here for a while longer, if you want to stay,” Purpled offered. Tommy relaxed slightly, nodding.
“I’ll stay for a little longer.”
***
Tommy picked up a pile of clothes from his apartment. He hadn’t gotten around to washing them yet, but he was pretty sure dying gave you an excuse not to do laundry.
He glanced down as something drifted out of the pile, landing on the floor. He set the clothes aside before picking it up.
It was a jet black feather, obviously not coming from his wings. One of Phil’s. The one he’d given Tommy after explaining why Wilbur hated vigilantes.
Tommy twirled the feather in his hand absentmindedly. It was such a sharp contest to his own feathers that glowed even when they weren't connected to his wing anymore.
He ruffled his feathers. He almost wished that he could go ask Phil for some more flying advice. It had gotten a lot easier after their last interaction.
Tommy shook his head, placing the feather on his bedside table before picking up his clothes again.
Phil wasn’t a father figure he could run to right now. He was... not quite an enemy, but not someone Tommy could trust.
He had most of his clothes sorted into his drawers by the time Purpled came inside. Tommy didn’t miss the way Purpled’s eyes landed on the feather on Tommy’s bedside table, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
“Long story,” Tommy muttered, glancing away. He didn’t know why he was embarrassed. It was just a feather.
“Right,” Purpled said. “You done with your laundry?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, shoving the last few shirts into a random drawer. It was good enough.
“Ready for patrol?”
“Always.”
