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Chapter Text

10 years ago, September 17th.

"Kristin! Don't patrol without me!" Phil eagerly yelled, Flying faster to get to Kristin.

"You're too slow, Hurry up" She chuckled.

"You made sure the house is locked and the children are sleeping right?" She then asks, voice serious. She didnt want the two eleven year olds and a six year old to worry where they were.

"Sure did, love!" Phil replied.

The two flew onto a nearby building, landing and perching on it looking out for criminals or villains.

"What a lovely night, Phil." She said, gazing at the moon.

"Yeah, what a lovely night." He agreed.

The city of Manburg had very low crime rates, so patrols were calm for the both of them. They enjoyed every bit of it.

Then, all of a sudden there was a distant cry for help which cut through the tranquility of the night, prompting a shared glance of concern between Phil and Kristin. The once-relaxed atmosphere instantly shifted, and they took off into the night sky, wings spread out and their figures blending seamlessly with the moonlit clouds.

As they approached the scene, the urgency became palpable. A group of masked individuals had cornered a terrified couple, their pleas for mercy drowned out by the ominous intent of the assailants. Phil's fists clenched involuntarily, a surge of protective instincts kicking in, while Kristin, with a resolute gaze, swiftly assessed the unfolding situation.

"Looks like our calm night just hit a detour," Kristin remarked, her voice firm yet laced with determination.

The couple looked up with a mix of relief and uncertainty as the duo descended, their wings flapping in the wind. Phil shot a reassuring smile toward the distressed pair. "We've got this. Just stay behind us."

The tension in the air was thick as the masked assailants turned their attention to the approaching heroes. A moment of silent understanding passed between Phil and Kristin, a mutual agreement that they were here to defend the peace of Manburg.

The first punch was thrown, and the night echoed with the sounds of a scuffle. Phil's movements were swift, a dance of practiced skill, while Kristin weaved through the chaos with a calculated grace. Their communication was almost telepathic – a glance, a nod, a shared purpose.

The robbers were weak, never enough to beat Manburgs top 2 heroes.

Phil and Kristin circled the masked criminals, their eyes focused and movements synchronized. The criminal, realizing the formidable opponents before them, attempted a hasty escape, but Phil shot forward, intercepting their path with a precision that left no room for evasion.

Phil's hand blurred as it delivered a series of expertly executed strikes, a combination of punches and kicks that disarmed the criminal and sent their weapon clattering to the ground. Kristin, with grace and agility, moved to flank the evader, ensuring they were cornered.

The criminal, undeterred, retaliated with a desperate flurry of punches. Kristin seamlessly blocked and countered, her movements a testament to her martial prowess. Phil, seeing an opening, executed a swift spin, landing a decisive kick that sent the assailant staggering.

The duo's teamwork was evident as they anticipated each other's moves, creating a seamless choreography of justice. With a swift and synchronized motion, Phil and Kristin immobilized the criminal, rendering them powerless against the guardians of Manburg.

As the defeated foe lay on the ground, gasping for breath, Phil and Kristin exchanged a glance that spoke of their shared commitment to protecting the city. Without uttering a word, they rose into the night sky, leaving the subdued criminal for the authorities, and ensuring that the tranquility of Manburg endured under the watchful eyes of its dedicated protectors.

Amidst the confrontation, Phil couldn't help but glance over at Kristin. Her eyes reflected not just determination, but a deep-rooted sense of responsibility for the city and its inhabitants. This wasn't just a patrol; it was a commitment to something greater.

As the last assailant retreated into the shadows, afraid of them both after seeing his fellow criminals scream in pain on the floor. Phil and Kristin shared a brief moment of relief. The couple they had rescued offered heartfelt thanks, and as they faded into the night, the duo exchanged a knowing look.

The calm of Manburg had been momentarily disrupted, but as Phil and Kristin resumed their patrol, there was an unspoken understanding – their bond, forged in the crucible of responsibility, made every night, even the ones with detours, worth cherishing.

As Phil and Kristin descended to ground level, their wings gracefully folded behind them, they began to walk through the dimly lit streets. The soft glow of streetlights cast shadows on the buildings, creating an eerie yet peaceful atmosphere.

"It's oddly quiet tonight," Kristin mused, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "I've got this feeling, Phil, like something's about to happen."

Phil knew Kristin was always right.

Phil, ever the optimist, chuckled lightly. "Come on, Kris, not every quiet night is a prelude to trouble. Maybe the bad guys decided to take a break."

Phil said that but deep down there apwas an uneasy feeling, he ignored it.

She shot him a skeptical look but continued walking. The cityscape around them seemed to hold its breath, the silence echoing in the empty streets. As they strolled, their wings subtly unfurled, a display of readiness that served as a silent deterrent to any potential troublemakers.

"I'm serious, Phil. Call it a hero's intuition or whatever, but something feels off," Kristin insisted, her gaze scanning the shadows.

Phil, however, maintained his easygoing demeanor. "You worry too much, love. We've patrolled these streets a thousand times without incident. Tonight won't be any different."

But as they continued their rounds, Kristin couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. The absence of other heroes patrolling only heightened her senses. She kept a vigilant watch, her instincts on high alert.

Their footsteps echoed through the quiet streets, the only disturbance in the stillness. Yet, despite Kristin's foreboding feeling, the night unfolded without incident. Phil's dismissive attitude seemed justified as the city maintained its calm facade.

"There is nothing to worry about! I think everyone just took a break tonight." He kept reassuring her nothing was wrong.

Then there were footsteps, quiet as a mouse,

Their heads shot to see hpwho was there,

Phil and Kristin turned to see Dream approaching, his grin sending a shiver down Kristin's spine. "Hey, Dream. What brings you out tonight?" Phil greeted, oblivious to the unease in the air.

"Just felt like joining the dynamic duo on patrol," Dream replied, his eyes flickering with an unsettling intensity. "Anything exciting happening?"

Kristin exchanged a wary glance with Phil, her earlier sense of foreboding intensifying. "Not really, just a quiet night," she replied cautiously.

Dream's smile widened, and he lingered in the shadows, his presence casting an eerie vibe over the trio. "You know, sometimes quiet nights are the most interesting," he murmured cryptically.

As they continued walking, Kristin couldn't shake the feeling that Dream's presence added an unexpected layer of tension to the night. Phil, still unperturbed, chatted amicably with their friend, unaware of the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

The trio walked through the city, wings on display, an unusual trio with an unspoken tension lingering beneath the surface. Little did they know that this seemingly ordinary night would unfold into something far more complex, with Dream's mysterious demeanor foreshadowing events that would challenge the peace they held dear.

Kristin couldn't help but feel strange.

As they continued their patrol, the quietness of the night became more conspicuous. Phil, ever observant, finally voiced the question on their minds.

"Dream... why is no one else patrolling tonight?" Phil inquired, his brow furrowed.

Dream's smile persisted, taking on a cryptic edge. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about. Just a quiet night for everyone, I suppose."

Kristin, however, wasn't satisfied with the vague response. "It's too quiet, Dream. Something feels off. Are you sure there's nothing we should know?"

He chuckled softly, dismissing their concerns. "Relax, my friends. Sometimes, heroes need a break too. Nothing to be concerned about."

'Suspicious much?' Kristin thought to her self and she sure knew Phil thought that too.

The trio continued walking in an awkward silence, the tension escalating with each step. Unbeknownst to Phil and Kristin, Dream had silently come to a halt, his eyes fixated on a distant point.

Kristin, sensing the sudden stillness, turned around to address him.

 "Drea—" Her voice trailed off, cut short by a deafening explosion that engulfed them.

 The force of the blast sent Phil and Kristin flying, their bodies propelled through the air like ragdolls.

The world spun in chaotic disarray as debris and smoke filled the night. Phil and Kristin's training kicked in, instinctively using their wings to regain control mid-air and land safely, albeit a few meters apart. The once serene streets were now disrupted by the aftermath of the explosion.

As the smoke cleared, the realization struck them — Dream's mysterious behavior had been a harbinger of danger, and the calm night had given way to an unexpected and perilous situation. Phil and Kristin, recovering from the shock, exchanged a determined glance, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in the wake of the explosion.

Kristin struggled to fly, horrid burns were seen on her legs and wings.

"KRISTIN!" Phil screamed.

"I'm fine." She spat. She turned to face dream. And flew right at him, distantly hearing Phil scream at her not to.

Dreams power was hallucinations and speed. Kristin's was flight.

She flew full speed st dream, dream dodged like it was nothing and slammed her into the wall,

"ACK-" Was the noise she made after colliding with the building.

Fire spread around them and people had come out to watch from a distance.

Phil was furious.

He then flew to dream,

"YOU BASTARD! WHAT IS THE NEED?" He screamed, getting his claws out.

"Kristin here failed a very important mission to stop a villain. We can't have weaklings on the team, sorry to be a bummer."

Phil heard Kristin's cries.

He saw red

They broke out into an intense battle.

Phil was loosing.

loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing loosing 

Dream chuckled,

"Weaklings, pathetic. How did you make it to top two? It should've been me! I will be first after this though. By the way, I was assigned to kill Her, Angel"

Dream seemed to then stop toying with Phil.

He lunged for him, creating multiple hallucinations of himself to trick Angel (Phil) and it worked.

Dream grabbed Angels wings and he threw him into the the gound.

There was a sickening crack. Dream laughed.

"Now stop distracting me you insect, I'm here to assassinate Kristin."

Phil couldn't get up.

Dream went closer to Kristin.

Phil screamed at him.

Dream grabbed his dagger.

Kristin screamed.

Then there was silence.

Phil couldn't breathe, he was hyperventilating. He couldn't feel his wings and his arm bent weirdly.

Dream shouted 

"So long, Angel!" 

Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard Bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard bastard 

Phil crawled his way to Kristin, his world.

She lay on the ground, in a pool of blood that was hers.

He almost threw up,

"L-love?" He whispered into her ear.

Her lifeless eyes pained him.

He hugged her and let out a scream.

Tears poured from his eyes.

----

From that day, He was called the Angel of Death.

The whole city had heard that scream that night.

It was 'Deaths curse'

Chapter Text

"Morning, Tommy," Clay greeted me with a warm smile as I stepped into the bakery. 

The scent of freshly baked goods enveloped the air, and it felt like home.

"Hey, Clay," I replied, returning the smile. "Anything exciting happening today?"

Clay chuckled, wiping his hands on a flour-dusted towel. "Well, we've got a batch of cinnamon rolls coming out of the oven soon. Your favourite, right?"

My stomach rumbled in agreement. "Absolutely, can't resist those. So, what's on the agenda for the day?"

Clay leaned against the counter, glancing around the cosy bakery. "The usual hustle, Tommy. Bread to bake, pastries to prepare, and, of course, keeping our customers happy. It's just another day in the life of the bakery business."

As I started helping with the morning routine, the memories of the past lingered in the corners of my mind. I pushed them aside, focusing on the comforting rhythm of kneading dough and the familiar sounds of the bustling bakery. 

The soft jingle of the doorbell announced the arrival of the first customers. A couple, engrossed in conversation, entered the bakery. Clay and I exchanged smiles, ready to assist them.

"Good morning! What can we get for you today?" Clay greeted, his friendly demeanour putting the customers at ease.

They scanned the display of pastries and bread, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. I stepped forward, eager to help. "If you need any recommendations, the cinnamon rolls are a crowd-pleaser. Fresh out of the oven, and they're absolutely amazing."

The couple shared a glance, then nodded in agreement. "Two cinnamon rolls, please," the man said, reaching for his wallet.

As Clay and I worked to fulfil their order, the bakery atmosphere buzzed with the warmth of conversation and the delicious aroma of baked goods. 

Just as the couple left with their cinnamon rolls, the doorbell chimed again. My attention shifted to see my older brothers, Techno and Wilbur, walking in.

"Hey, guys!" I greeted them with a wide grin, feeling a surge of happiness. It wasn't often that we all managed to gather like this.

Techno ruffled my hair playfully. "Morning, Theseus. How's it going?"

"Pretty shit, now that you two are here," I replied, my smile reflecting the genuine joy of teasing my brothers.

Wilbur chuckled and rolled his eyes, glancing at the display of treats. "What do you recommend, Tommy?"

"Cinnamon rolls, definitely," I exclaimed. "You can't go wrong with those. Clay's got them coming out fresh."

"Clay?" Techno asked suspiciously, not familiar with the name.

"Oh! I completely forgot to tell you about him! He's my boss." I filled them in.

"Alright then, we will have cinnamon rolls." Wilbur said, and Techno nodded in agreement.

Clay emerged from the backroom, hands lightly dusted with flour, a warm smile on his face. Tommy seized the opportunity to introduce his older brothers to the man who had become a second father to him.

"Guys, this is Clay, the mastermind behind all these delicious creations," Tommy announced with pride.

Techno and Wilbur exchanged polite nods, their expressions subtly guarded. Clay extended a flour-covered hand, a twinkle in his eye. "Nice to meet you both. Tommy's told me a lot about his adventurous brothers."

Techno's gaze lingered for a moment, his analytical nature detecting nuances that others might miss. Wilbur, equally perceptive, offered a cordial smile. "Likewise, Clay. Tommy's always talking about how much he loves working here."

As the introductions unfolded, a quiet tension lingered in the air, a reflection of the unspoken suspicions harboured by Tommy's brothers.

 Techno had a strange feeling about him, Phil said that Kristin always knew when something bad was about to happen. Maybe he got it from her.

--- 

Tommy's footsteps echoed in the quiet streets as he locked up the bakery. 

The moon cast an ethereal glow on the pavement, illuminating his path. The night air was filled with distant sounds, a symphony of urban life. As he strolled through the city, the presence of heroes became evident, each one a beacon of justice in the darkness.

Clay had left his shift abruptly due to yet another emergency. 

It had become a common occurrence, but Tommy had grown accustomed to not questioning it. The routine of closing up the shop and navigating the nocturnal city was familiar to him.

Tommy's disdain for heroes lingered as he considered the idea of going on patrol himself. The thought of teasing the do-gooders brought a mischievous smirk to his face. The night held a certain energy, and Tommy felt compelled to play a part in the ongoing drama that unfolded in the shadows.

Then, His phone's notification alerted him to Dream's presence on patrol. A plan began to form in Tommy's mind, a perfect opportunity to add a touch of chaos to the city's vigilant atmosphere.

The cityscape transformed as he walked, a canvas painted with the glow of streetlights and the distant hum of nightlife.

 Tommy's footsteps quickened as anticipation fueled his desire to cross paths with Dream. 

The thrill of a potential encounter with the hero fueled his determination to make the night memorable. 

Tommy arrived home, and not to his surprise, Wilbur and Techno weren't there, just Phil.

"Hey, Dad!" He greeted, a warm smile.

"Hi Toms, your brothers have gone on patrol. Let me guess, you're going too." His father sighed, Tommy grinned,

"Exactly that, old man! I also brought you some food from the bakery. We had leftover cinnamon rolls. Unless youre coming with me?" 

Phil smiled and took the cinnamon rolls. 

"Thanks, but ill sit this one out to eat some cinnamon rolls, you be careful. I don't even know why I let you little shits do this." Phil then said, and Tommy giggled and rolled his eyes, then ran upstairs.

---

Tommy swiftly made it out of his house, Villain outfit on and everything.

When Tommy was patrolling, he could let his wings out! Avians aren't well liked among humans. That's why he hides them when he's out in public.

Tommy was the number 10 Villain, Red. Both his brothers were higher than him in rankings, as they had better powers.

Techno - also known as Blade, the number 2 villain. Basically, Techno has more than one ability. He had super strength, and he was a piglin. Piglins are a hybrid, and Piglins are 10 times stronger than normal human adults. Along with that, Techno had these voices, sometimes dangerous for him, sometimes helpful.

Wilbur - also known as Phantom, the number 3 Villain. Wilbur was able to phase through anything. He could also control people, but not for long otherwise it drains his energy. Tommy thought it was so cool! Wilbur obviously did, too.

Then last but not least, Phil, known as Angel of Death, Number one Villain. He had flight and super longs talons which could slice anything. He was feared among everyone. Some people pitied him about what happened ten years ago

-----

Tommy perched atop a rooftop, surveying the city below. The night embraced him as he waited, a shadow against the moonlit sky.

 His eyes scanned the streets, seeking the telltale signs of heroes on patrol.

The city's heartbeat pulsed beneath him, a rhythm of anticipation. Tommy relished the idea of teasing those who sought justice. 

His wings, a symbol of defiance, framed his silhouette against the urban backdrop. He remained vigilant, knowing that Dream was somewhere in the vicinity.

The thrill of the hunt coursed through Tommy's veins as he anticipated the encounter with Dream. The night was his canvas, and he intended to paint it with red. A subtle smile played on his lips, a silent promise of chaos to come.

In the distance, the city's heroes moved like shadows, their presence detected by Tommy's keen senses. Patiently, he bided his time, ready to descend into the night and intertwine his fate with that of the heroes he sought to toy with. The rooftop became his stage, and the city awaited the dance between Tommy and the enigmatic Dream.

---

Footsteps landed on the rooftop. Tommy thought it was a hero. He turned around, smirking,

Only to be met with Wilbur and Techno.

"What do you guys want?" He questioned.

"Nothing, we just saw you here, sooooo," Wilbur annoyingly said, dragging out his 'o' on 'so'

"So what? I dont need you guys babying me all the time, you know."

Tommy spat.

"Really? What about that one time a building almost collapsed on you and we saved you?" Techno remarked, smirking.

"Whatever, bitch" Tommy mumbled and Wilbur couldn't hold in his laughter.

This made Tommy even more angry.

"Hey! What's so funny!?" He yelled at him, which made him laugh more.

"Shut up bitch boy!! You can't laugh at me!! I'm a big man-" Tommy tried to say, but was then cut of with Techno's laugh.

Tommy stomped his foot and just screamed in annoyance, crossing his arms.

"S-sorry Red, you're just so funny when you're angry." Wilbur commented.

"Shut it, Phantass." He mumbled.

Techno giggled more at that.

Then, there were other footsteps on the roof. All three of their heads snapped to the steps, heroes.

"Man, you guys just ruin the fun." Wilbur groaned.

The three heroes roled their eyes and grabbed their weapons, along with activating their powers.

"You have the right to remain silent, turn yours -" Tommy cut the hero, Generate, off.

"Mememememe, we've heard it a million times." Tommy began to flap his wings, making it so he's ready to strike,

"Quit cutting me off, brat!" Generate spat. Techno stepped forward,

"Who are you calling brat?" His eyes glowed red from beneath the skull mask, making him more intimidating.

"Who do you think, dumbass?" The other hero, Shadow, remarked.

Techno and Wilbur lunged at the heroes.

Generate lunged for Tommy,

"Please, how can you defeat me, Gennny?" He teased, using a nickname that annoyed Generate.

Then, Generate made a dagger appear in his hand.

"Wow, is that your special move?" Tommy said, putting fake excitement into his voice.

Generate threw the dagger, Tommy was about to dodge when the other hero came hurtling towards him, and didn't have time to move,

"Red! Watch out!" Well, Phantom could've said that a bit earlier.

A sharp, searing pain radiated through Tommy's right wing, and the collision with the hero sent them both crashing onto the next rooftop.

"Fuck!" Tommy's exclamation echoed through the night as he slammed onto the concrete. The unconscious hero lay beside him, and Tommy's wing, now dripping with blood, bore the evidence of a dagger's piercing strike.

"Shitting fuck, ow ow ow!" Tommy winced, gritting his teeth against the pain that surged through him.

In an instant, Techno and Wilbur appeared at the scene, concern etched across their faces.

"Red!" Wilbur exclaimed, rushing to Tommy's side and grabbing him by the shoulders. "Let's get you home. I'll carry you."

A mixture of annoyance and gratitude flashed across Tommy's face. "This is what I mean by babying me," he muttered under his breath.

"W-what about the other heroes?" Tommy questioned, his worry evident.

"Knocked out, don't worry," Blade reassured him with a confident smile.

Blade carefully lifted Tommy, hoisting him onto his back. Inadvertently, his hand brushed against Tommy's injured wing, prompting a sharp hiss from the young villain.

"Shit, sorry," Blade apologized, his tone sincere as he navigated through the rooftop landscape. The cityscape blurred as they moved, Tommy enduring the pain with every step.

Techno fell into step beside them, eyeing Tommy with a mixture of concern and irritation. "You really need to be more careful, Red."

"Yeah, yeah, save the lecture for later. Just get me home," Tommy grumbled, his discomfort evident. The trio moved through the night, leaving the rooftop chaos behind, as the wounded villain was carried away from the scene of mischief and mayhem.

-----

The journey home was a careful one, with Techno carrying Tommy through the city's labyrinthine streets.

Phil awaited them with an expression that shifted from concern to anger as he caught sight of Tommy's injured wing. "Tommy, what the hell happened?" Phil's deep voice resonated through the room, carrying a mixture of worry and frustration.

Techno carefully lowered Tommy to the ground, and Wilbur stood by, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and guilt. "We had a run-in with some heroes, Dad. Things got a bit messy," Tommy admitted, wincing as he tried to stand on his own.

Phil's stern gaze intensified. "Messy? You could have gotten yourself killed. And what's this about your wing?" He pointed at the blood-soaked feathers.

Techno stepped forward, offering a concise explanation. "There was a dagger. It got him pretty good. We took care of the heroes, though."

Phil sighed, a mixture of relief and irritation evident in his expression. "You kids need to be more careful. This isn't some game. Tommy, your wing is delicate, you know that. We can't afford for you to be grounded."

Tommy nodded, his usual bravado momentarily replaced by a more subdued demeanour. "I know, Dad. It won't happen again. Promise."

Phil's stern expression softened as he sighed. "Let's get that wing looked at. Wilbur, go fetch the first aid kit."

Wilbur hurried off, and Phil turned his attention back to Tommy. "You're not invincible, you know. You guys are a team, and you need everyone in top shape if you're gonna try defeat anyone. Now sit down, and let's see what we can do about that wing."

"Yeah, whateverrr," He dragged out. Phil rolled his eyes and grabbed Tommy's wing, cleaning the wound and bandaging it.

"Thanks, Old man." Tommy giggled, along with the backgroud giggles of Techno and Wilbur.

"Toms, do you really think you should be doing this? Your mum wouldn't want revenge, you know that." Phil then said, adding tension to the atmosphere .

"Dad, Dream needs to be punished for what he's done. He's a sick bastard and no one can deny it."

"He has a point, Dad. He has murdered countless people and ruined others' lives. I get we are villains and all, but we would never do something that extreme." Wilbur agreed with Tommy.

Techno murmured something like

 "I'd do something that extreme, probably to Dream.."

"Okay, okay, I see where you kids are coming from. If any more of you end up injured like this or worse, then we are banning this villain thing ." The three gasped at their Fathers words,

"Woah, woah, woah! You can't ban it! We are in the top ten villains for a reason, Dad!" Wilbur tried to reason.

"Not listening," Phil then said, hoisting himself up from where he was sat and walked into the kitchen.

"This is all your fault Tommy!" Techno said, crossing him arms and huffing.

"MY fault?! You threw that bitch of a hero into me! If anything it's yours!" Tommy spat back. Wilbur sighed,

"Shut up." Wilbur activated his powers and all of a sudden Techno and Tommy couldn't speak.

Tommy stomped his foot and grabbed a pillow form the couch, and threw it at Wilbur.

"Hey!!" Wilbur yelped as he was getting bombarded by pillows from BOTH Tommy and Techno

"Fine, fine, you can speak!" He said Inbetween getting hit in the face.

"Bitch-boy!" Tommy teased,

Techno laughed and lunged for Wilbur with a pillow again.

And then, a pillow fight broke out.

Chapter Text

The next day dawned with a sense of residual tension hanging in the air. Tommy, waking up from a fitful sleep, felt the weight of the previous night's events still lingering. Determined to move past it, he got dressed, the fractured wings resisting their usual cooperative nature.

As he struggled to pull his jumper over the rebellious wings, frustration mounted. With a grunt and a wince, Tommy found himself on the floor, tangled in a battle with the uncooperative fabric and wings that seemed to have a mind of their own.

Footsteps approached his door, and before he could untangle himself, Phil burst into the room, a mixture of concern and confusion on his face. "Tommy!?" he exclaimed, taking in the scene.

Phil's eyes shifted to the floor to the predicament with the jumper. 

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, and a chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, well. Looks like the mighty Red is having a bit of trouble."

Tommy shot Phil an irritated glare. "It's not funny!!! Help me, old man!"

Phil, still grinning, approached and extended a helping hand. "Alright, alright. Let's get you out of this mess." 

However, his attempts at assistance were accompanied by intermittent bursts of laughter, making the situation all the more absurd.

As Phil unravelled the jumper from Tommy's wings, the room echoed with both their laughter. The tension that had lingered from the previous night began to dissipate, replaced by a shared moment of lightheartedness. Phil, despite his initial concern, couldn't help but find humour in Tommy's predicament.

Finally, free from the clutches of the jumper, Tommy stood up with a mock scowl. "You're enjoying this way too much, Phil."

Phil, wiping a tear from his eye, grinned.

 "Well, you can't blame an old man for finding amusement in the chaos you bring."

The laughter echoed through the hideout, a temporary reprieve from the nocturnal struggles that defined their unconventional family. 

With the jumper finally in place, Tommy headed downstairs with Phil for breakfast. Wilbur, and Techno were already at the table, sharing a quiet morning moment.

Techno's eyes locked onto Tommy as soon as he entered the room. "How's your wing this morning, Toms?" he inquired, concern evident in his voice.

Tommy shrugged, trying to downplay the discomfort. "Still sore, but I'll survive. No big deal. Im a big man"

As he grabbed a slice of toast and took a seat at the table, Wilbur shot him a knowing look. "You need to take it easy, Tommy. No more late-night patrols until you're fully healed."

Tommy rolled his eyes, dismissing the suggestion. "I've got it under control, Wimbur. Don't worry about me." He teased him, the nickname made Wilbur glare at him, but Tommy just laughed.

Phil, observing the exchange, chimed in, "Eat your breakfast, Tommy."

Just as Tommy took a bite of his toast, a realization hit him like a jolt. His eyes widened, and he glanced at the clock. "Damn it, I'm gonna be late for the bakery shift!"

Techno, ever the pragmatic one, raised an eyebrow. "Maybe if you didn't sleep in so late, you wouldn't be running late, Nerd."

Tommy shot Techno a mock glare, crumbs of toast still in his mouth. "Details, Techno, details. I'll make it up, don't worry."

As Tommy wolfed down the remaining toast and gulped down a glass of orange juice, he couldn't help but marvel at the unpredictable rhythm of their lives. 

 With a hasty farewell, Tommy dashed out the door, leaving the makeshift family to resume their morning routine, each member navigating the delicate balance between chaos and routine.

As Tommy rushed out the door, he was met with an unexpected downpour. Raindrops cascaded down, drenching him in seconds. "Shitting fuck," he muttered under his breath, a frustrated sigh escaping him. 

Undeterred, he trudged through the rain, shoulders hunched against the cold onslaught.

By the time he reached the bakery, he was thoroughly soaked. The door chimed as he pushed it open, water droplets trailing behind him. Clay Already at the counter, burst into laughter at the sight of Tommy's waterlogged state.

Tommy shot Clay an annoyed glare. "What's so damn funny?"

Clay continued to chuckle, wiping away imaginary tears.

 "Toms, you look like a drowned rat. Did you swim here?"

Niki, another worker behind the counter, joined in the laughter. "I've never seen someone embrace the rain with such enthusiasm. You're practically a walking waterfall."

Tommy scowled, water dripping from his hair onto the floor. "Hey! It's not funny! I'm fucking cold!"

Clay, still chuckling, handed him a towel. "Well, maybe next time, check the weather forecast before heading out."

As Tommy dried himself off, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment.

The banter continued as Tommy begrudgingly joined the laughter

During his shift at the bakery, Tommy begrudgingly manned the register, exchanging pleasantries with customers while his mind wandered to the events of the night before. 

The rain outside mirrored the dreariness within, the fractured wings seemingly weighed down by the lingering tension.

On his break, he found himself sitting across from Clay. Then, Clay's mention of the fight between Red and Generate instantly piqued Tommy's interest.

"Did you hear about the scuffle last night?" Clay asked casually, his eyes fixated on the pastry he was munching.

Tommy's ears perked up, and he leaned in. "Yeah, what happened?"

Clay shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor belying the underlying tension. "I just heard Generate managed to get a hit on Red. Red is annoying in Hero fights."

The last sentence, delivered with a hint of venom, felt like a direct jab. Tommy's annoyance flared, but he restrained himself, knowing Clay's disdain for Red wasn't 'personal'. Still, it grated on him.

"Yeah... Red is annoying," Tommy responded, his tone matching Clay's, though beneath the agreement lurked a layer of frustration. The fractured wings seemed to tense, echoing the internal discord.

As they continued their break, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the tension lingered in the air.

Tommy, torn between his dual identities as Red and himself, couldn't shake the annoyance at the subtle criticism. The rain outside continued to drum a dissonant melody, echoing the conflicting emotions that swirled within him. In the world of heroes and villains, even the smallest comments carried weight, leaving Tommy to navigate the intricate dance between loyalty and individuality within the unconventional family that had become his refuge.

-----

The day went by, and Tommy headed home.

He went inside the house and was greeted by Phil on the couch, giving him a warm smile,

"Hey, mate. How was work?" Phil asks, intrigued as to if anything happened at the bakery.

"It was okay, I did find out that Clay doesn't like Red." 

"Who cares, at the end of the day he's still friends with you, and you're red, so technically he likes Red" Phil cheered Tommy up.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Then, Wilbur and Techno came in, Holding coffee's.

"Hey! I got us some coffee's." Wilbur stated, handing us all one, except for techno, who stuck to his tea.

"Thanks, anyway, Tommy let me re wrap your wing, Tommorow I'm going out to get some healing potions, so you'll be healed by tommorow."

Tommy nodded and took his soggy jumper off, and let out his wings.

Phil then began re-wrap Tommy's injured wing, a restless energy simmered within the young villain. The sense of confinement weighed on him, the grounded wings a stark reminder of his vulnerability. With a tentative glance at Phil, Tommy hesitated before finally voicing a question that had been gnawing at him.

"Hey, Phil," Tommy began, uncertainty lacing his words, "think I could still go on patrol? I mean, just to keep an eye on things. I won't get into any trouble, I promise."

Phil paused, a mixture of concern and caution evident in his gaze. "Tommy, your wing needs time to heal. We can't afford another setback right now."

Wilbur, sensing the internal struggle, chimed in, "Maybe a short patrol, just to ease his mind? We'll keep it low-key, Phil."

Phil's stern expression softened as he considered the request. "Fine, but take it easy. And Techno, keep a close eye on him. No unnecessary risks."

A spark of gratitude flickered in Tommy's eyes as he nodded in agreement. The prospect of patrolling, even in a limited capacity, offered a semblance of normalcy in the wake of the recent chaos. With Techno by his side, they ventured back into the night, the city's skyline stretching before them like an uncharted canvas.

The moon, now a witness to both chaos and recovery, cast its silvery glow upon the duo. Tommy, despite the lingering pain in his wing, felt a renewed sense of purpose.

As the trio moved through the dimly lit streets, the city's shadows seemed to beckon to Tommy. An impulsive desire to break free from the watchful eyes of Phil, Wilbur, and Techno tugged at him. Seizing a moment when their attention wavered, Tommy's determination fueled a swift sprint, veering off into an alley and disappearing from view.

Wilbur turned to Techno, a puzzled expression on his face. "Where did he go?"

Techno, scanning the surroundings, replied with a hint of exasperation, "Knowing Tommy, he's up to something. Let's find him before he gets himself into trouble."

Unbeknownst to them, Tommy had found a secluded spot hidden in the shadows. The moon's glow outlined his silhouette as he took a moment to catch his breath. The thrill of evading the watchful eyes of his makeshift family fueled his rebellious spirit.

"I just need a quick patrol. I'll be back before they even notice," Tommy whispered to himself, determination glinting in his eyes. His wings, though still recovering, twitched with anticipation as he prepared to venture alone into the night.

The city held its secrets close as Tommy, now unseen, set out on his solo patrol. The fractured wings, craving the freedom denied to them by injury, unfurled cautiously. The night embraced him, and for a moment, he felt untethered from the responsibilities that bound him.

------

As I walked the familiar streets, the city seemed to hold its breath around me. The fractured wings, though recovering, still carried a subtle ache, a reminder of recent battles. Despite the pain, the night called to me, urging me forward.

Turning a corner, I unexpectedly found myself face to face with Generate, the hero I had tangled with before. His stern expression mirrored the countless confrontations we'd had. The cityscape, bathed in the moon's glow, framed the tension that crackled in the air.

Generate, with a stoic determination, spoken in a voice that cut through the silence, "Red, thought you'd learned your lesson."

A defiant smirk played on my lips as I faced him, the impulse to tease and provoke bubbling up. "Lesson? Where's the fun in learning lessons, Generate?"

The hero's gaze hardened, and I braced myself for the impending clash. My wings twitched with anticipation as the dance between hero and villain resumed in the silent night. The city, a witness to our perpetual struggle, held its secrets close as the night unfolded its chapters.

Generate's condescending tone grated on my nerves as he eyed my recovering wings. "Looks like those wings of yours aren't as invincible as you thought, Red. Maybe you should stick to something easy like baking or drawing instead of playing villain."

His words pierced through the night air, a reminder of my recent vulnerability. Anger simmered beneath my skin, fueled by the frustration of being grounded and the audacity of his taunts. Suppressing a surge of irritation, I shot back, "You're just jealous you can't rock wings like these. You're not a big man. You're a bastard!"

Generate chuckled, the sound a mockery that further fueled my anger. The night, once a canvas for mischief, now felt stifling with the weight of his words. The fractured wings twitched involuntarily, a physical manifestation of my irritation.

"You're so childish. You'll always be one step behind, Red," Generate continued, a smug grin playing on his face.

My patience was worn thin, I retorted, "We'll see about that," as a surge of rebellious energy ignited within me. The desire to prove him wrong fueled my resolve, and in that tense moment, the night held its breath, anticipating the clash between hero and villain.

Then, all of a sudden, Techno and Wilbur materialized from the shadows, their presence a timely intervention in the escalating confrontation. With synchronized precision, they grabbed me by the shoulders, swiftly pulling me away from Generate's taunts and the impending clash.

What the fuck!!?

"Enough, Red. We don't need more trouble," Techno's stern voice cut through the tension, his grip firm yet reassuring.

Wilbur, a mix of concern and frustration on his face, added, "You can't let him get under your skin like that. We've got enough on our plate. And i dont want you adding to it."

My wings, still throbbing with irritation, yearned for release. As we disappeared into the night, Techno's words lingered, a reminder that our battles extended beyond the physical clashes with heroes.

The city swallowed us once more, the sounds of the night muffling the echo of Generate's taunts. In the shadows we regrouped, the makeshift family found solace in the anonymity of the urban landscape.

----

As the trio retreated into the shadows, Tommy couldn't contain the pent-up frustration any longer. Jerking away from Techno and Wilbur's grasp, he scowled at them both.

"You guys are such bummers! Why did you have to come and swoop me away like some damsel in distress?" Tommy spat, his rebellious spirit flaring beneath the surface.

Wilbur's patience, already worn thin, snapped. "Tommy! You could've gotten injured again?! Stop thinking of yourself for once. You're not strong without your wings. When will you get that?"

The harsh reality of Wilbur's words stung, and Techno interjected with a stern edge in his voice, "I don't even know why you're doing this. You're 16, for goodness sake."

Tommy, a volatile mix of anger and defiance, retorted, "I am not weak! Just because I got stabbed once doesn't mean I can't handle myself."

They didn't notice how Tommy's voice wobbled.

Wilbur, frustration etched on his face, shot back, "It's not about being weak, Tommy. It's about being reckless. You're part of this team, and your actions affect all of us. SO, stop being so selfish!"

The nocturnal air crackled with tension as Tommy, seething with anger, locked eyes with Wilbur. "I don't need you lecturing me, Wil. I can handle my own business."

Wilbur, a steely resolve in his gaze, responded, "Handle it without getting yourself killed, then. I know we became villains to get revenge for Mum, but now me and Techno are mostly doing it because the heroes are shit. Stop trying to act all big and strong because you're not, alright? You're not."

Tommy felt a lump in his throat. Sometimes, he hates Wilbur.

 "You guys don't get it!" Tommy erupted, his frustration bubbling over. The shadows seemed to amplify the tension as he squared off with Wilbur and Techno, the fractured wings twitching involuntarily.

Wilbur, still seething, retorted, "Then enlighten us, Tommy. What's so important that you're willing to risk yourself and others?"

Tommy's eyes blazed with defiance. "I'm not just some kid you can lecture. I can handle myself out there. I don't need you watching my every move."

Techno, his voice laced with concern, interjected, "Tommy, it's not about control. We just want you to be safe."

But Tommy, blinded by his own frustration, snapped back, "Safe? I've been doing this for 2 years, Techno. I don't need protection."

Wilbur, his patience waning, countered, "This isn't about protection. It's about being a team. Your actions affect all of us, and you can't keep running off on your own."

"Look, Tommy, cut the shit and let's go home," Wilbur demanded, his patience at its breaking point. Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but before any words could escape, Wilbur activated his power.

"Your legs are like jelly," Wilbur whispered with a flicker of his hand, a power unique to him. Tommy's protest died on his lips as an unexpected weakness seized his legs, and his knees buckled beneath him.

"Wilbur! What the fuck?!" Techno exclaimed, catching Tommy before he could hit the ground. The sudden loss of control left Tommy seething with frustration, now not just at the situation but also at the use of Wilbur's power against him.

"You need to calm down, Tommy," Wilbur insisted, his voice firm as he watched Techno supporting Tommy. "We're taking you home. No more solo patrols."

"Fuck you."

Tommy, seething with a mixture of anger and helplessness, shot a defiant glare at Wilbur.

The trio returned to the hideout beneath the bakery, the atmosphere heavy with the repercussions of Tommy's impulsive actions. Phil, their unofficial father figure, awaited their return with a stern expression that deepened into disapproval as he took in the scene.

"What happened?" Phil's voice was low, a restrained anger simmering beneath the surface.

Wilbur, his frustration evident, explained, "Tommy decided to run off on his own again. We had to intervene before things got out of hand."

Phil's gaze turned to Tommy, disappointment etched on his face. "Tommy, how many times do we need to go through this? You're part of a team, and your reckless actions put everyone at risk."

Tommy, seething with a mix of frustration and embarrassment, retorted, "I can handle myself, Phil. I don't need everyone treating me like a kid."

Phil's expression hardened. "Handling yourself doesn't mean running off without a plan. We have a strategy for a reason."

The tension in the room was palpable as Phil continued, "We're a family, Tommy. You can't keep putting yourself in danger like this. It affects all of us."

Tommy, his rebellious spirit clashing with the weight of Phil's words, bit back the retort that lingered on his tongue. The fractured wings, now a symbol of both defiance and vulnerability, seemed to echo the strained dynamics within their makeshift family.

As Phil took a moment to address the underlying issues, the hideout became a crucible of emotions, each member grappling with their roles and responsibilities in the nocturnal world they inhabited. The night, once a canvas for mischief, now bore witness to the complexities of their chosen path.

"Well, tell Wilbur to stop using his powers on me!" Tommy exclaimed, frustration boiling over as he redirected the blame. The defiant spark in his eyes clashed with the disapproval in Phil's gaze.

Phil's stern expression deepened. "Using powers against each other is not the solution, Wilbur. We need to work together, not against each other."

Wilbur, though maintaining a composed exterior, shot Tommy a reproachful look. "I used my powers because you were putting yourself in danger. I'm not going to let you get hurt, Tommy."

Tommy, seething, retorted, "I don't need your protection, Wilbur. I can handle myself."

Phil interjected, "Enough. We'll discuss this as a team. For now, Tommy, understand that your actions affect all of us. We need to find a way to work together without jeopardizing the safety of the team."

The room hung heavy with unresolved tension as the makeshift family grappled with the aftermath of the night's events.