Chapter Text
It started out as a regular patrol. Although, more and more frequently, his “regular” patrols had become extraordinary.
Gravel crunched under his skates as he flew down the road. Almost absentmindedly, he followed the orange line on his visor that showed the local borders of Las Nevadas. The egg’s red ran parallel like a dance partner.
Since the winery fire, competitors of Las Nevadas had expanded their territories. Eggpire had been the most aggressive, forcing Tommy to make new decisions on his routes. Choices such as continuing to patrol his old district and risk running into newly acquired Eggpire territory or narrowing his scope to stay in Las Nevadas’ shrinking grounds.
One risked running into Crimson Prophet and Hellspawn. The latter cut out a chunk of the population who still needed his help.
Naturally, he took the risk.
"Tubs, I’m heading into Eggpire territory,” Tommy called out over his comms. His skates clicked rhythmically as he jumped the red border visible only on his visor.
“Are you sure, big man?”
“Yeah. I’m not going deep. Just the edges of my old patrol routes. Keep an eye out for me.”
Tubbo sighed from the other side.
“Sure, just be safe,” he mumbled.
Tommy nodded his head and ran his fingers over the blunted edges of his disks. As he skated, he rolled his shoulders and neck to stretch them out. Next, he windmilled his arms, then alternated wiggling out his legs.
His skill on his skates was a far cry from what it used to be when he first started. Sure, he’d taken to them like a fish to water, but his skill had only grown over the months. Where before they were an attachment for in between fights, now they were an extension of himself. That little fact was a reassurance as he skated further into “enemy” territory.
His encounter with Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet months ago had been seared into his memory. Soot’s warnings about living long enough to be a hero had also left an imprint. Which was why he now had a solid action plan should he ever run into them. He would turn around and skate with everything he had to get away. He couldn’t help anyone if he was dead, after all.
Tonight had the eerie calm of an awaiting storm. The streets were emptier than usual, as if every criminal knew something Tommy had yet to find out. The old corners where drug dealers, gang members, and muggers used to lurk were almost suspiciously empty. The streets had the feel of a gun pointed at him; he didn’t know whether it was loaded or empty, but the threat hung heavy in the air.
Perhaps it was the difference between Eggpire and Las Nevadas territory. One bustled with crime, but there were regular civilians as well. While another was more like a ghost town than a city. The streets were clean, both from litter and crime. However, Eggpire fliers were pinned to wooden telephone poles and taped to building windows. Most were still white and crisp, offering enrollment and toting various services the Eggpire offered.
Tommy shuddered at the memory they dragged up. Like Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet themselves, the territory felt too polished. It was too good to be true, as the saying went.
For the longest time, it was just him and the distant sound of traffic to keep him company. Five minutes of quiet. Then fifteen. Half an hour and still silence. His shoulders finally loosened as he relaxed.
So when his speakers crackled to life carrying Tubbo’s worried voice at full volume, he startled hard with a shout and a jump.
"Hey, uh, Bigman? I'm, uh, I'm seeing something not good,” Tubbo said. The sound of his keys rapidly click-clacking filled the background.
“You f*cking bastard, Tubbo,” Tommy shakily breathed. One hand clutched at his chest. His heart felt like it was firing like a machine gun in his chest. “What the sh*t, you twat—you scared me to death! Why are you full volume?!”
Tubbo cut him off.
“Tommy, you need to come home like, right now,” he said. His voice was strained and tight.
The blonde scoffed and skated to a wall, which he promptly leaned on as he caught his breath. Rough brick felt cool and grounding under his fingertips. For a brief moment, he wished to rip off the confining bulletproof vest Soot had given him so he could breathe. Instead, he tugged at the neck of his hoodie, hoping to get some air.
“Why, what’s going on?” he panted.
“Dream just put out a bounty on you and Soot.”
—
Exsanguination: the action of draining a person, animal, or organ of blood.
When they were still children, Technoblade once explained that term to him. He had been the first to pick it up from one of his fancy books. For some reason, years later, it stuck with Wilbur. It was the single first word that came to mind when he felt cold fear. He logically knew that when adrenaline was released, one’s heart would race and blood would be drawn to the most critical areas. Heart, lungs, and brain. Hence the feeling of blood draining from his limbs.
Hero work had numbed that immediate fear response. However, as many situations he handled and dangers he faced, he never could fully shake the experience all together.
Wilbur feverishly wished he could.
Instead, he was stuck, sitting on the couch with Technoblade and his father, forcing himself to hide his dawning dread. His hands clenched tight in the knees of his pants. Out of his periphery, he could see Techno casting him a glance. Yet he couldn’t rip his eyes from the flatscreen all three of them stared at.
Dream sat on a news anchor’s desk, with one leg thrown over the other. His customary green hoodie stood out against the blue backdrop of the wall. Wilbur could only stare in slow, rising dread at his sleeve. Dark, telltale splatters marred the right sleeve. In sharp juxtaposition to them was Dream’s white mask, an innocent black smile etched across it.
The villain on the screen titled his head.
“Hello L’Manberg!” He said it with mock cheerfulness. Wilbur cast a sidelong glance at his brother and Phil to see them both frowning in unison at the TV. His father leaned forward attentively, his hands steepled in front of his face. Techno’s ears flicked and twitched haphazardly. The air crackled with tension in the home of the three heroes.
“L’Manberg, I am so sorry to interrupt your regular broadcasts, but I have news I must share. I am putting out a privately funded bounty for both the villain Soot and the vigilante Discord.”
Time slowed and froze as Wilbur’s heart stopped. Two familiar images, one of him as Soot and another of Discord, popped on screen. A chair creaked as Phil leaned forward, and his brow furrowed deeper.
“Five thousand dollars for each. Bring in both, and it will be fifteen thousand. Soot must be unharmed. Discord only needs to be alive, with no permanent injuries.” Dream said as he hopped off the desk he sat on. He stalked towards the camera, his head tilted ominously.
“And Soot, if you are watching this, consider it a formal invitation to a meeting with me. I have a business proposition for you. If you come on your own, it would save the trip in the trunk of someone’s car, after all,” the villain hummed. “Thank you, L’Manberg, and have a good night.”
The TV station was cut to black, and audio muted immediately. For a brief moment, there was silence.
Phil’s phone rang, followed by the alarms of three pagers going off in various parts of the house all at once.
The blond was the first to reach his phone, quickly clicking it open as he held it to his ear.
Wilbur exchanged a glance with Techno before both of them bolted to their feet and ran for their pagers. After a minute of searching for his laundry, Wilbur found it in a coat pocket and promptly clicked it off. Instinctively, he moved, slipping his shoes on before he even realized what he was doing. He jammed extra supplies into his guitar case, scanning over it to make sure nothing was missing. His heart pounded in his chest. Thoughts ran a million miles per minute as he ran the possibilities.
Techno’s soft but strained voice interrupted the train of emotions like a brick wall.
“The hero agency was just hacked. They don’t know who, but it’s suspected Nightmare Team. They don’t know how much was leaked. The phone call was from Sam, who discovered the hack in his and the hero's network systems. They want us at HQ. Phil has already left.” Techno monotoned.
Wilbur scoffed dryly. “Like hell, I’m going to go. I need to find my vigilante. The whole city will be searching for him.”
Anxiety thrummed deep in his chest as he clicked the worn brass latches shut on his guitar case. With practiced ease, he slung it over his back. Techno stood like an immovable mountain in his doorway.
“Woah, slow down,” he said, raising his hands in a motion of 'stop’. “Wil, slow down.” He ordered. “Use that big brain of yours for once and think. You’re going to look for him as Soot? A man with five grand on his head right now?”
Wilbur all but snarled. His shoulders stiffened as he bit back a growl.
“I’m going to find my vigilante, Techno. That’s final. Get out of my way.”
The piglin hybrid groaned. He didn’t even bat an eye at Wilbur’s display, seemingly knowing full well that it was driven out of fear rather than malice. Instead of moving, he boxed himself into the doorframe more.
Wilbur moved to push past him, only to have Techno grab his arm and scowl. His voice was a hash whisper.
“Wilbur! Just listen to me. I’m not stopping you. I just want you to take a second to breathe.”
He hesitated. Technoblade continued.
“I know you care about him. I’m not going to stop you. But please, for the love of gods and all that exists, be careful. You’re wanted too now.”
Tears stung Wilbur’s eyes as the full gravity of the situation fell upon him. Fear and anger tangled in his stomach and made bile rise in his throat. Before he knew it, he squeezed his twin into a tight hug. Techno stiffened for a half-second before relaxing into it.
They stood there for a long moment, Wilbur desperately heaving in breath as he tried to calm himself. His heart pounded in his chest. One shaky breath. Two. And then a third, more calm one. Techno nodded approvingly, and his grip on him loosened.
"Also, what do I tell Phil when he asks why not at the hero agency?” Techno asked softly.
Wilbur hummed, and his brow furrowed.
“Tell him I’m going out on foot for surveillance. I want to try to see if ‘Soot’ is flushed out of hiding by this, and I will contact him if I find him. When I’m done, I’ll meet him at the HQ.”
Techno nodded. Wilbur shifted under his stare. Then, his brother stepped aside and let him pass.
“Be safe,” Wilbur heard his brother call out. He gave him a pinched smile before dashing out the door.
—
Tommy’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the news. His mind went white and blank, like the fuzzy static of an old box television.
“What do you mean Dream has put a bounty on me and Soot?” he stuttered. Instinctively, he pressed himself further against the wall he leaned against. His body was on high alert in an instant.
“Dream hijacked a news station and just broadcast live that he wants you and Soot—five grand for either of you or fifteen grand for both,” Tubbo explained.
“Dead or alive?”
“Alive, Soot, he wants unharmed, and for you, the only requirement was to be alive with no permanent injury. He also invited Soot to meet with him privately.”
His hands balled into fists as he listened. A sour mix of anger and fear sat in his stomach. His tongue felt tingly and numb. He listened half-heartedly, his mind elsewhere, as Tubbo’s panicked voice continued on.
"Listen, there is going to be a manhunt for you now. You know people are going to want to cash in on that bounty. I’m sending you a direct route home on your visor-“
“No,” Tommy mumbled.
Tubbo’s breath hitched, but before he could argue, the blond cut him off.
“I’m not going to hide.” A muttered curse followed as he skated in small circles. “I’m not going to just run and bury my head in the sand. If he wants me, he can come get me himself. I have a job to do.”
Shocked silence greeted him from the other end of the line.
“You got to be f*cking kidding me.” Tubbo blurted out angrily. “You can’t be serious? Big man, you’re not serious.” It sounded more like a plea than a question. "Tommy, you need to come home. Half the city will be looking for you. Not to mention, Dream won’t even need to look for you himself now that he’s put a bounty out.”
Tommy shook his head.
“I knew the risks when I started this. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop now. There are people who need my help. If I’m not home in two hours, then you can worry.”
“Tommy-“
Tommy flicked the coms off, muting his friend mid-sentence.
He felt vaguely ill, but ignored that. Instead, he shook out his limbs, took a deep breath, and continued his patrol route.
Anger simmered in his stomach as he skated. He was trying to do a good thing. Why was that such a crime? Following the anger was indecision. His skating pace slowed to match his hesitance.
Why would Dream of all people be interested in him and Soot? Sure, Soot had gained notoriety after the Warden incident, but then why him? Why involve him, "Discord," a mostly unknown vigilante? None of it made sense.
As the minutes passed, his pace slowed. Slowly, the headstrong attitude he’d had toward Tubbo crumbled away as the full implications of the situation dawned on him.
What was he even doing? He was in the middle of Eggpire territory, miles away from home, and wanted with a bounty on his head.
The anger he’d felt earlier melted away into anxiety. Soot’s words from the night with the Eggpire came to mind. If he wanted to be a hero, he first needed to live long enough to become one. Shame burned his cheeks and clogged his throat as the realization sank in. He was being an idiot. He needed to get home.
His hand raised to the buttons on the side of the helmet. The static of the line greeted him. He opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get a word out, pain spiked up his back. The deafening crack of a gunshot followed not a second later.
Tommy choked as he fell forward. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground. Dull pain burned his back as he choked on air and tried to catch his breath. He hurried a glance behind him, where he heard arguing; there stood two gunmen, one shouting at the other.
While they were distracted, he felt along his back with his freehand. His fingertips brushed against the torn fabric of his hoodie. Just underneath, he could feel the fabric of his bullet-proof vest.
“We’re supposed to take him alive!” Tommy heard as he caught his breath. All at once, two critical pieces of information fell into place.
One: He had been shot and saved by his vest.
Two: these men were after the bounty.
Tommy rolled over, pain jolting through his back at the impact. The movement immediately drew the attention of the gunmen; their guns swung in his direction almost instantly.
Just as they stepped forward, something shattered against the cement. Fire jumped up between Tommy and the gunmen. The gunmen immediately jumped back with a shout of surprise.
Tommy scrambled back against the wall, using it to support himself as he wobbled to a stand. His eyes landed almost immediately on the two gunmen, now in the company of a third, much more dangerous threat.
A threat to them, that is.
He watched through the flames as Soot hooked an arm around one gunman’s throat, using them as a human shield. As the other gunman hesitated, the villain snarled, throwing a ball of flames at him. In a swift movement, the gunman he held was knocked out and tossed to the side. The other was incapacitated in a frighteningly efficient manner, going down with a loud crack.
Tommy couldn’t help but grin as Soot leapt through the flames toward him.
“Soot!” He called out in relief. “How did you find me?”
Before he could finish the sentence, Soot’s hands were on him, patting him down for injury.”
“Where were you hit?”
“My back, but Soot-“
Immediately he was spun around, Soot's deft hands feeling his back for injury. At one point, a thick glove hit the ground, presumably so Soot could better assess the damage.
The villains questions were direct and to the point. Tommy could hardly get a word in between answers.
“You have on your vest?”
“Yes-“
“Good. Anywhere else?
“No-I’m fine!”
Tommy winced as pressure was applied to his back. Most assuredly, there would be a bruise. After a moment, Soot turned him back around to face him.
The villain's face showed a mixture of concern and relief.
“It’s lodged in the vest. So that means it didn’t pierce you. And by positioning I don’t think there will be internal bleeding. Thankfully.”
“How did you find me?” Tommy asked, looking over at him.
“I know your routes and was looking for you. Started along them and heard the gunshot.”
Tommy’s brow furrowed, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out. “But there’s a bounty on you too.”
Soot’s face hardened. His relieved expression turned into a dark scowl.
“You knew about the bounty?! Why are you still out?”
Regret filled Tommy, and a tad bit of fear too.
“I was already out on patrol when I got the news. I was just turning around when I was shot,” he hurriedly explained. He pointedly left out the part where he had ignored Tubbo and continued his patrol until he had come to his senses.
Soot humphed. Then he glanced around to make sure the two men had yet to get up. He stooped down to pick up his glove, slipping it over his fingers in one fluid motion.
“Alright. I figured your dumb ass would be out here. I’m escorting you home.”
Tommy didn’t bother to argue. Instead, he mutely nodded. Just as they took a step, though, Soot hesitated and paused.
“Here. Stay here for a second. I need to grab something I dropped.”
Tommy’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t argue and instead watched Soot sprint across the road. He picked up a previously unnoticed guitar case, which he then slung over his back. Tommy watched curiously as the villain trotted back over to him.
“What’s with the guitar?”
Soot smirked. “It’s got my sh*t. Never mind that, though. Lead the way,” he said with a bow and a flourish. Tommy took one more look at the guitar case before he nodded. He skated slowly, enough that Soot could keep up with a light jog.
His fingers once again found his helmet as he flipped the line back on.
“Tubs, I’m coming home,” he announced.
A relieved sigh met him.
“Thank god, Tommy, I swear I was debating blowing your cover to get up and search for you, you dumb prick,” said his friend.
Tommy cast a glance over to Soot, who was seemingly oblivious to the conversation going on inside Tommy’s helmet. Instead, the villain was on red alert, looking out for any ambushes and attacks with his stiff shoulders and swiveling gaze.
"Yeah, well, I’m getting an escort from Soot.”
The line was silent for a long moment.
“You’re leading Soot to our apartment?” Tubbo asked incredulously.
Tommy blinked and then groaned.
“Right. f*ck. Probably shouldn’t lead the villain to where we live. Right. Let me fix this Tubbo. Hold on.”
Tommy swallowed as he projected his voice outside the helmet to Soot.
"Hey, so, uh, I just realized I’m not comfortable with you knowing where I live. Is it possible you can just walk me part of the way?”
Soot looked at him silently for a solid second. Despite the situation, the villain grinned.
“Did your friend remind you of that?” He quipped.
Tommy went slack-jawed. He rolled to a stop.
“Could you hear me? In my helmet? This whole time?”
Soot’s smirk widened. He was silent for a long moment, watching him. He looked like a smug Cheshire cat. Then he laughed.
“No. I just figured you were talking to him, seeing you were fiddling with your helmet and quiet for an unusual amount of time. But thank you for confirming. Ask your friend where he wants to meet to pick you up.”
Tommy’s shoulders fell in an odd sort of relief. “Of course you knew.” He muttered under his breath.
“Tubs, did you pick that up?”
Tubbo hummed in response. “Yeah. Uh, let's meet at the bakery in the next district to ours. The one we like to stop by?”
Tommy nodded before halting at the smirk Soot cast his way. Unease spiraled in his stomach as he shifted on his skates.
"Alright, we picked a spot. Let’s go,” he said with confidence, despite feeling none. Soot merely inclined his head in a nod and continued to follow.
The night was uncomfortably quiet. Gone was the typical banter, quips, and barbs. Instead, they moved silently, too conscious of every sound to be comfortable. Small talk was abandoned in favor of listening for attacks. The longer the empty street greeted them, the more Tommy’s shoulders climbed up to his ears. Even Soot, the definition of co*cky confidence, was quiet and stiff.
Tommy jumped when movemnent registered in his periphery. His hands leapt to his disks as he turned, only to see a stray Eggpire flier being tugged down the empty road by the wind. His hands clenched around his disks before he relaxed them with a sigh.
“Feeling jumpy?” Soot murmured, his lips quirking up in the barest smile.
Tommy shrugged. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes under his mask, but he would bet they too were scanning for danger. Soot had a strange air to him; seemingly even he was feeling the pressure of the situation. Fifteen thousand for the both of them was no small number to sneeze at, after all.
He opened his mouth to voice those thoughts, only to still, words choking deep in his throat at the sight of familiar red-robed figures.
“Soot!" he screamed, the sound half strangled.
His villain turned, just in time to see a shower of red shards aimed at them. Soot tossed his guitar case to the side before dipping to hide behind the layers of his leather trenchcoat. The shards violently plunked against the coat before dropping harmlessly to the ground.
It was almost too late for Tommy to notice he was next in line for the barrage. He dove for the ground, his helmet taking the brunt of the impact. The sound was like hailstones against the plastic. A hiss dragged out of his lips as his arm stung. Evidentially, a few had managed to knick him there too. A glance at it showed shallow cuts, already beading red.
Grimacing, he shook off the pain.
Blood dripped and splattered on the cement. Instantly, vines sprouted from droplets on the ground, crimson, coiling, and voracious as they looped and locked around the wheels of his skates.
He yelped as he went down. His eyes darted, looking for Soot to cry out for help. Soot, however, was locked in hand-to-hand combat against Crimson Prophet. Somewhere he had procured a knife, which he now used expertly and with speed that Tommy had never seen him apply. It was startlingly similar to how Maestro utilized his dagger.
Crimson Prophet, on the other hand, seemingly hardened and sharpened his body at will, with every limb having the opportunity to be both a knife and a shield.
Movement dragged his gaze away from the fighting. Quietly, seemingly to not draw Soot’s attention, the villain approached Tommy from the edge of the fray.
Fear and desperation bubbled in Tommy’s chest. Taking a disk, he rammed it down full force on the edge of a vine. Yet the vine only thickened and jammed tighter into the wheel of his skates, the blunt edge of his disk having no effect whatsoever. With every movement he made, more droplets of blood sizzled against the ground, furthering the growth and thickening of the vines.
He screamed for Soot, his fear making his disguiser crack and warble.
For the barest second, he saw his villain turn and stiffen, clearly seeing Tommy’s predicament. But before he could help, he was intercepted by Crimson Prophet and dragged back into the fight.
Tommy’s gaze snapped back to Hellspawn. Twenty seconds more, and Hellspawn would reach him. Fifteen. Another desperate slam of his disk against the vines. Ten.
"Tommy, disconnect the wheels! Hit the magnets!” Tubbo’s voice screeched over the speakers.
His fingers jammed into the first button before Tubbo even finished speaking. The first skate popped free from his shoe. Then the second. Before the vines could ensnare him once more, he rolled away and out of reach of them.
Hellspawn chuckled, low and dry, as Tommy flung his disk at him. He ducked it with ease and continued his approach.
“You know, I thought we might meet again, Discord,” he said. His head co*cked as he seemingly looked over him.
Tommy caught one of his disks, brandishing it in front of him. His other hand was clamped over his arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood and prevent it from dripping. Slowly, he edged back towards where Soot and Crimson Prophet fought.
“Really? I would think once would be enough for you,” he replied. His feet shuffled back as he slowly lured the villain back.
Hellspawn’s spaded tail flicked once, then twice, like an irritated cat. The glow of his white eyes narrowed. He moved like the sort of predator you’d see in a nature documentary. Not slow, but instead as if stalking prey. His lilting voice was deceivingly soft.
“Well, you can’t exactly blame us. Hefty price for you after all. Not to mention you are in our territory,” murmured the villain.
Tommy hissed as a droplet of blood slipped between his fingers and crackled against the ground, a vine springing up in its place. This one he narrowly dodged, now wise to the trick. He threw a disk in retaliation and recalled the second.
While Hellspawn ducked out of the way of the first, Tommy cast a glance behind him. Good. He was getting closer to Soot. Just a bit further.
“So, blood. That’s how you make your vines?” He called out. “Never saw you do that back in the old days.”
Hellspawn paused. The white edges of his cloak flapped in the wind like something out of a movie. A minute shake of the head and a shrug followed.
"Ah, well, you know how things are. Things grow and evolve. People change.”
Tommy caught the second returning disk and gave it an experimental squeeze. He tightened his grip, and his eyes narrowed over Hellspawn.
Besides the vines, the villain hadn’t attacked him yet. Even then, the vines seemed to be a contingency of “blood hitting the ground." He hadn’t seen a weapon, but that didn’t mean the man didn’t have one.
And seemingly, his time had run out, judging by the lunge Hellspawn made towards him.
Tommy feigned a throw of the disk in his hand, and habitually, Hellspawn dodged. Instantly, Tommy too dodged forward. The villain’s hand reached for something on his belt, but he reflexively intercepted that, throwing full force at the gloved hand. The disk connected with the knuckle in a sickening crunch.
Immediately, the smaller vigilante leapt back, clicking his disk recall button as he did. A solid thwack and cry from Hellspawn signaled the first disk recalled, right into the back of his skull.
Tommy bolted for Soot, screaming as he did.
“Soot fire! Put down some fire!” He called out. A glance over his shoulder showed Hellspawn still down for the count, though stirring and still conscious.
In front of him, Soot snarled as he danced out of the way of blows from Crimson Prophet. His fighting had switched to purely evasive maneuvering, with the knife only being used to parry or the odd counter. The long robes of Crimson Prophet were slashed and torn with clear strikes from Soot’s small knife, and yet the villain was unwounded and undeterred. Tommy threw a disk, only for it to harmlessly bounce off him.
Soot cursed loudly as he shouted at Tommy.
“My guitar case. Grab the white package. It’s labeled KCIO3, S, Al,” he yelled.
Tommy nodded, running for the black case left askew on the ground. Hastily, he skidded to a knee, his shaking hands fumbling the clasps before swinging open the case. A myriad of packages greeted him. Bottles of liquid, a bundle of clothes, matches, a gun—there seemed to be everything in there. Tommy’s eyes scanned over the items in confusion.
"Tubbo, which pacakage? He said a bunch of letters—I didn't—" His voice rose in panic.
“Bottom left corner, white, but Tommy don’t, that’s-”
Tommy didn’t catch the rest as he scrambled to a stand and held up the package.
“Soot! Soot! What do I do now?” He screamed. His heart jumped into his throat as he saw Soot fighting for his life against both Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet. Fire sparked danced around the three, a pool of fire at their feet.
His villain's head snapped up at his name.
“Throw it! Throw it here.”
Tommy didn’t hesitate, hurling the package through the air with an arching lob. The second Soot saw it coming, he dodged out of the way with a desperate leap. Instantly, the man curled into a ball and covered his ears.
Before Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet could react, the package landed at their feet, instantly ignited by the puddle of flame they stood in.
Flash!
The bright light was followed by a thunderous bang.
Tommy flinched back and averted his eyes at the flash of light. When he looked back, Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet were thrown off their feet. Both lay crumpled to the ground in a pile, Crimson Prophet on top as if he had acted as a shield for Hellspawn.
His eyes jumped around before landing on Soot, who was staggering to his feet. Clicking shut the case, he slung it to his back and booked it for his villain. The brunet coughed and sputtered from the smoke as Tommy grabbed him and hauled him towards his abandoned skates.
He barely stopped to scoop them up; the once strong and impenetrable vines now brittle and easy to snap off the wheels. Without stopping, he continued tugging the villain down the street and away from the other two. Once Soot had his feet under him, they ran a full sprint.
Only when they were a few blocks away and well out of reach of the two Eggpire leaders did they stop for air.
“What was that?!” Tommy exclaimed. Mindful of the clearly explosive contents of the guitar case, he carefully set it down.
Soot squatted against the wall, hands on his knees, as he painted air.
“Chemical mix, sometimes used in fireworks. Potassium chlorate, sulfur, and aluminum.”
Tommy’s eyes widened, not that Soot could see it.
“You had me throw a firework mixture at you??? Why do you even have that?!”
Soot shrugged. In response, the vigilante took a large step back away from the guitar case. God knows what else he had in there.
A lightbulb went off in his brain.
“The lube!” He exclaimed. Soot’s head jolted up at that in clear confusion.
Tommy frantically started to pace. “The ‘lube’ I destroyed one time. And stuff I thought was drugs—that was more chemicals and sh*t, innit?”
A haggard smirk dragged the corners of Soot’s lips up.
“There you go, Einstein. Now you’re catching on,” the villain huffed.
A throb of pride filled him as his theory was confirmed, but it felt vaguely empty. Soot looked worse for wear. Tommy shifted on his feet as he stared down at him.
Even with his self-satisfied smirk, Soot had clearly seen better days.
His normally fluffy brown hair was plastered against his head in sticky strands of sweat. A red scratch lined his cheekbone, although thankfully it was little more than that. Holes pockmarked his gray sweater, showing the bullet-proof vest, a hero-issued one by the sleek look of it. The trench coat was... well, it was as it usually looked, with only the barest scratches in it from the red shards. His pants had faired a little better than the sweater; the bottom hem burned and singed.
Besides the physical effects, there was also an off-air discussion about Soot. There was a certain weight and tension around his shoulders. His smirk had already fallen away to be replaced with lips pursed tight and nostrils flared as he took deep, measured breaths. No witty quips. No blatant confidence.
It felt like he stood with an entirely different man than the villain he knew.
“f*ck, are you okay? You look like sh*t,” Tommy blurted out.
That triggered the barest hint of a quirk of the lips.
“Indeed. Am I okay?” He said it like a statement rather than a question.
Tommy shifted uncertainly. Worry and unease swelled in his chest.
“You feel different,” he murmured. “Not like your regular self. You’re normally co*cky, brave, and fearless no matter what is thrown at you.”
Soot’s head lifted to look up at Tommy’s helmet. With a deep breath, the man stood to his full height, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his signature grin. In a split second, he was once again the old, co*cky "Soot” Tommy knew.
“I’m fine. Just a bit winded from two fights in one night. Don’t worry about it, Disk-kid,” he chuckled.
Scooping up his guitar case as if nothing had happened, he slung it over his back and gestured for Tommy to lead on.
After a minute of Tubbo redirecting them to be back on route, they continued on their light jog in tense silence. Neither spoke, lest they be ambushed once more by either villains or common criminals alike.
Both heaved a sigh of relief upon exiting Eggpire territory. Their pace had felt like all but a crawl to Tommy, who used to navigate the same distance in half the time due to his skates. In the meantime, Tommy mulled over his thoughts, like tossing a ball against a wall. For every question he put out there, another rebounded back.
Bats flittered under the yellow glow of streetlights, capitalizing on the swarms of bugs hoarding around the lights. The streets were mostly empty, with only a few passersby walking at the late hour. Anyone who did happen to see them paled and immediately crossed the street to walk on the other side, giving them a wide berth. The news had clearly spread quickly, and most people had no desire to interact. He couldn’t help but quietly agree.
It wasn’t every day Dream himself put out a bounty for a nobody vigilante and their villain.
Tommy’s hands clenched as he swallowed down another persistent question. His hands fidgeted with the buckle on his belt. His pace slowed to a walk. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Soot turn to look at him.
“What is it, Disk-kid? You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” he murmured. One gloved hand pushed his sweat-soaked hair off his mask.
Tommy shrugged. One hand gently ran over his helmet, where the red shards had hit it. Faint scratches greeted his finger tips.
“Why didn’t you use more of your fire against Hellspawn and Crimson Prophet? That’s your thing, isn’t it?”
“They’re both immune to fire,” Soot simply answered.
“Is that why you pulled out the knife? Where did you even get that? I’ve never seen you use it,” he mumbled.
Soot gave him a toothy smirk. He shrugged as he adjusted the guitar case on his back.
“My boot. It's always good to have a knife.”
Tommy hummed in thought. He supposed that made sense.
“The knife fighting looked like Marstro’s work. You know that dagger he keeps in his sash?”
His villain stiffened near imperceptibly. He then loosened up with a shrug.
“Yes. I’m aware. My brother and I trained and fought together. It only makes sense that it would look similar,” he answered.
“And you knew fire wouldn’t work because you’ve fought them before? Or because you’ve heard Maestro talk about it?”
Soot nodded, but other than that, he contributed nothing. They walked in anxious silence, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely, there was a manhunt for them underway, if their run-ins so far were any indication. At some point, Tubbo even signed off, warning them that while he made his way to the rendezvous point, he’d be out of touch. Despite knowing he wouldn’t be truly alone, seeing his current company and the idea of Tubbo being gone made butterflies of unease flutter in his stomach. Tommy merely muttered an “okay” and continued his march next to Soot.
After what felt like an eternity of the slowest patrol to exist, the bakery came into view. Outside of it, Tubbo sat on a curb. His phone lit up his face in a soft blue glow as he stared down at it.
Relief blossomed in Tommy’s chest. His shoulders fell, and instinctively, he bolted for his friend.
“Tubbo! God, it’s a relief to see you.”
The hybrid looked up and smiled. In the next second, Tommy crushed him in a hug, his lanky limbs wrapping around the shorter one like a vice. When he pulled back, he registered the soft concern in Tubbo’s eyes. Then it switched to playful frustration as he pulled back and solidly punched Tommy in the shoulder.
“Don’t you dare do that again, you idiot. Gave me a heart attack,” the hybrid scowled.
In the glow of the streetlights, he looked oddly ominous, with his discolored scarring on half of his face. His horns, which for the longest time had only been nubs, seemed sharper and a good inch longer than when Tommy had last noticed them. Though that could be attributed to how Tubbo often fluffed his hair up to hide them and hadn’t been able to since wearing his headset at home.
Soot, too, seemed to be looking at Tubbo with an interest that made Tommy’s skin itch. There was something analytical about his posture. His shoulders were leaned in, and he casually stood at his full height, giving the feeling of him looming over them.
Tubbo scowled back at Soot, puffing himself up to full height. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion. Clad in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants, it was impressive how he could make himself even half as intimidating.
Tommy inserted himself between them with an awkward chuckle and clap of his hands.
“Haha alright. Thank you, Soot, but I think we can get going now,” he supplied.
Soot’s head turned to look up at the sign above the bakery. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A soft chuckle followed.
“Nikki’s bakery, huh? You live near here?”
Tommy and Tubbo exchanged looks. Tubbo was the first to answer.
“We can walk ourselves home; thank you very much,” he said with clipped words. One hand unconsciously rubbed at his neck as he spoke.
The villain froze. Tommy could almost imagine he was bluescreening.
“Walk? You don’t have a car?”
He couldn’t help but snort in laughter at the look of bewilderment on Soot’s face.
“Of course we don’t. We’re not,“ he cut off suddenly as Tubbo nudged him. Too late, it seemed, as Soot had already put together the implications of his heavy sigh and how he dragged a gloved hand over his face.
“Right. Right. Underage. How far away?” Soot ordered.
Tommy and Tubbo shifted uncomfortably on their feet. After a minute, Tommy sighed.
“About fifteen minutes walking. But we can make it.”
Judging by Soot’s exaggerated groan, he was less than impressed. Almost dejectedly, the man wandered over to a nearby parked car, grumbling under his breath as he did so. Tommy watched in confusion as he examined the vehicle and circled around it appraisingly. A short nod followed, and then he reached into his boot to pull out his knife. Before the vigilante could move to stop him, Soot placed the tip of the knife against the window and, with his other hand, whacked Dawn hard on the butt of the knife. Once, then twice, and the glass cracked and folded in.
By the time Tommy reached him, Soot was neatly plucking glass out and clearing the entire window of shards with his thick gloves.
“What the f*ck are you doing?!” Tommy exclaimed as he yanked at the villain’s arm. Soot merely shrugged him off and reached inside the vehicle.
“Motor vehicle theft, apparently,” he sighed. The lock on the door popped, as if to emphasize his point.
Tommy stood stunned as the man opened the door and wiped the seat clear of glass. In disbelief, he looked back to Tubbo, who merely shrugged in response and watched. When he turned back to Soot, the man had shrugged off his guitar case and gently placed it to the side. Following it was the trench coat. Once those were set aside, he kneeled down and began fiddling with the plastic steering cover. Some quick work using his knife, and it was pried off and plunked on the driver's seat. As Tommy watched, Soot disconnected wires, stripped them with his knife, and reattached them with precision.
“How do you know how to do this?” Tommy mumbled.
“My dad taught me. It is good to know for emergencies. It only works on older modes, though,” Soot’s voice answered from underneath the steering column.
A moment later, the car turned on and revved quietly as Soot pressed down on the gas pedal a few times. Once done, he stood up, brushed off his knees, and tossed the plastic cover to the side. Next, his jacket and guitar case went into the passenger seat, and he slid into the driver’s seat. His door shut with a loud thunk.
“Get in,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Tommy exchanged a glance with Tubbo. Somewhere in the process of Soot hijacking the car, Tubbo wandered over to Tommy’s side to watch. Both hesitated. Then the brunette shrugged and hopped in the backseat.
Tommy sputtered like the old car.
"Tubbo, you can’t be serious! You were the one who said we shouldn’t lead him to our place! Besides, this is stealing a whole ass car. Someone is going to miss that.”
The hybrid, meanwhile, just shrugged and buckled himself into his seat with a click.
"Well, he already knows my name and yours, and you seem to trust him. I don’t see how this is much worse,” he said.
Tommy hesitated for another half-second. “And the vehicle?”
Soot waved his hand. “Stolen and destroyed when done. I’ll leave a note, as 'Soot' and insurance will cover it. Villain/hero damage after all.”
Tommy shook his head. However, one glance at the small blood smattering around the slice in his hoodie was enough to convince him. Feeling a good bit of guilt, he slid into the backseat next to Tubbo and clipped in his seatbelt. In front, Soot gave the wheel a few good yanks and then tested steerability. When satisfied, he shifted out of the park, and they rolled down the road quietly.
Apart from Tubbo’s quiet directions, no one spoke as they drove down the road. The further into their district they drove, the more Soot’s lips turned down and tightened. Tommy shuffled himself consciously. Pogtopia wasn’t known for its cleanliness or high incomes after all.
Finally, they rolled to a stop in front of their apartment. Soot looked out the windshield skeptically at the sight of the rundown building.
“This it?” He murmured as he looked back at Tommy in the rear view mirror.
Beside him, Tubbo nodded.
Soot sighed, but put the car into park, leaving it running.
Tommy was the first to file out, but just as Tubbo was about to step out, Soot stopped him.
“A word, Tubbo?”
He stilled and was about to step back into the car when a gesture from Soot stopped him.
“Privately,” the villain clarified.
Tommy hesitated, but at a nod from Tubbo, he stepped back. Outside the car, he paced.
He wanted nothing more than to take off his helmet and take a shower. By now, the sweat had completely soaked his hair and back, leaving him feeling sticky and uncomfortable. Instead, he waited outside the vehicle, watching Tubbo and Soot discuss something. After a moment, Soot reached back and handed him what looked to be a piece of paper.
Tommy crossed his arms agitatedly as he waited. Finally, the door swung open, and out stepped his friend. As the door shut behind him, Soot leaned over and rolled down the passenger window.
“Alright. Stay safe. And Discord? Do not go out for patrol for the next two weeks, minimum. Lay low while we wait for this to die down. Got it?”
Tommy hesitated to answer. Soot’s face darkened at the response. He leaned further towards the window as if to convey his seriousness.
“I’m not kidding, Discord. Stay home. That’s an order. If you go out and risk your life, I will be pissed.”
Tommy shuffled on his feet as he thought it through. Soot seemed to recognize that from his tired sigh.
“Look, if you want, I’ll patrol in your place, alright? I know your routes like the back of my hand anyway. Just don’t put yourself and Tubbo pointlessly at risk. Got it?”
Finally, he nodded dejectedly. At least if he couldn’t patrol, someone would.
“Fine. Okay. So long as you’re patrolling my routes, you just stay safe too. You’ve got a bounty on your head as well, after all,” he cautioned.
Soot smirked in his signature way.
“Of course. Don’t worry about me. Now I’m going to drive off and torch this car. But first you two make it into the building, then I’ll leave.”
Tommy’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t argue as Tubbo tugged him towards the entrance. Once they stepped over the threshold, Soot gave them a wave and drove off. Tommy waved back half-heartedly.
Questions swirled around his head as they tromped up the narrow stairs, with Tubbo in front and him in the rear. His gaze flicked to the piece of paper clutched carefully in his friend’s hand.
“What did he give you?”
The paper was immediately shoved into a pocket and hidden from view.
“Just his number. For emergencies. Don’t worry about it, Big Man.”
The rest of the climb was met with silence. Finally, they reached their door, which Tubbo unlocked. Both slipped inside, exhausted and relieved to be home, meager as it was.
When Tommy peeled off his helmet, his hair came away spiked with sweat. A shudder passed through him. He would definitely need to shower before going to bed.
His hand absentmindedly rubbed against the bruise already forming on his back. A wince flashed across his features. Right. He’d been shot. He’d have to ask for a new vest, or look at buying on himself. Tho few would be able to compare to the one he’d been given by Soot.
Again, his thoughts were back to Soot like an ouroboros. The man was like a musical earworm he couldn’t get rid of, nor identify.
Questions and thoughts tumbled around his body and itched across his skin. Questions, which only got worse when he caught Tubbo staring at his conspiracy board with a strange gleam in his eye.
Tommy sighed. Whatever “that” was would have to wait for another day. Right now, all he could think about was showering and sleeping. He would have time to dread and overthink the events of the night the next morning, after all.
