Chapter Text
This wasn't a great start of the night, he'd admit, but it was quite frankly easier than he thought it would be.
He never really imagined himself the running type, but right now? He didn't have a choice in the matter. His screams echoed through the streets as he ran for his life and his freedom as he was chased until his lungs burned from the lack of air being sucked into them at such fast intervals.
His dirty converse tapped against the concrete in the city, the road that was quite busy compared to how one would expect it to be at midnight, which made it harder to run with having to dodge cars too.
Who was he running from? Now that's a good question. Why is he running from them? ALSO a good question...
That question just leads to the start of his patrol, so let's go there..
It was a clear skied day for once instead of drowning the city in rain that usually cursed the area. He was happy that it was for once a night where he could look at the moon and the stars while on his not entirely legal patrol of the city.
His wings twitched under their confinements, but he ignored this. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take the wings out of their binding because they were a part of his personal life outside of vigilantism, and the great Tommyinnit wouldn't accept any risks of his identity being known.
But that's besides the point of the current moment.
Right now, he was patrolling his side of the town while his partner in crime the other side of it. Pogtopia wasn't a very nice town, especially when you lived in it. Crime was crawling around every alleyway and even in the wide open, especially at night! Which is part of the reason Tommy took up being a vigilante in the first place.
He was peacefully strolling his usual routes before he heard whispering from an alley and decided that it was his job to check in on it, as anyone who was an illegal hero would, and low and behold he saw a group of people huddled in the far corner mumbling amongst themselves.
Tommy, being the knowledgeable man he was, assumed it was a drug dealing and immediately shouted out.
"You know I feel like having a job would be more fun than dealing drugs, ey big men?"
That was a good one, Tommy should be a counselor. Though the people in the alley didn't seem receptive to this as they froze in their spots and slowly turned their heads to glance at the vigilante and this is when Tommy realized this was a big fuck up.
The biggest he's made all week, and I suppose that wasn't really a record considering it was Monday.. Tubbo might still be proud though, usually it was on Saturdays was his first big fuck-ups of his patrols!
Why was this a fuck up? Oh, well busting a secret meeting between a few henchmen and their fairly strong boss wasn't that logical, especially when the boss was dubbed the name 'Nevadas' and was a highly powerful villain of Las Nevadas.. and the owner of it.
This was not a good day for the Tommyinnit community.
No it was not.
"Ah, fancy seeing you here, kid."
The villain easily spoke with a drawl, a sharp and unkind grin on his face beneath his masked eyes. Showing off his deadly chompers. Yeesh being bit by this guy must HURT.
"Why don't you scram, fake hero. I don't feel like ending my meeting early.."
The villain again said with a casual tone as he grasped a hilt of a sword on his side, carried by a sheathe. And Tommy? He scoffed at the other's words.
"Firstly, I'm not a kid, and secondly I think I'm going to have to end the meeting myself then!"
He spoke with a confidence that couldn't be matched by any other. Because that's how great he was, he wasn't scared. Especially not when the villain began to walk closer with a grimace. Especially not when he was being chased across the street and-
Ah we're back where we started! Tommy being chased by Nevadas!
This wasn’t a great start to the night, he'd admit, but it was, quite frankly, easier than he thought it would be.
Now, “easier” was a relative term. Running for your life with no end in sight wasn’t exactly the *dream*, but at least he’d made it this far without being skewered. Small wins.
Nevadas, though, was persistent. Tommy spared a glance behind him and immediately regretted it. The villain was closing the gap fast, his sword catching the glow of a passing streetlight as he barreled after him, sharp teeth bared in an almost feral grin.
“Oh, come *on*! Aren’t you supposed to be a businessman? Don’t you have, like, stocks to check or something?” Tommy shouted, ducking behind a parked car just as a swipe of the villain’s blade sliced through the air where he’d been.
Nevadas didn’t respond, but his laughter echoed over the screech of a car’s tires as Tommy darted into the road, narrowly avoiding a collision. Horns blared behind him, but he didn’t stop—couldn’t stop—not with Nevadas still on his tail.
"Okay, okay, think, Tommy, think!" he muttered to himself, lungs burning as he zigzagged through the crowded street. If he could just find a way to lose him, maybe… but no, Nevadas was faster, stronger, and way too motivated for Tommy’s liking.
The villain was practically toying with him, swiping at the air and letting out dramatic sighs of faux frustration. "Running’s not going to save you, kid. You’re only delaying the inevitable!"
Tommy grit his teeth. He wanted to shout back something snarky, something witty, but all he could manage was a wheezy "Yeah, well, screw you!"
He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. His legs were screaming, his lungs felt like they were about to burst, and his wings—his wings—itched under their bindings, straining against the straps with every desperate breath he took. He couldn't let them out. He *couldn’t.*
And just when it felt like he was about to collapse, a shadow passed overhead.
It was subtle at first, a faint whoosh of air that could’ve been mistaken for the wind, but then it grew louder, sharper. Tommy barely had time to look up before a dark figure dropped between him and Nevadas.
The clash of steel meeting steel rang out, and Tommy stumbled back, blinking in shock as a man clad in black and green armor blocked Nevadas’ blade with a massive broadsword of his own.
“Craft,” Nevadas growled, taking a step back. “This isn’t your fight.”
The hero—*Craft*, Tommy realized with a start—didn’t respond right away. His wings, massive and black like a crow’s, spread wide behind him, casting an imposing shadow over the street. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, steady, and dripping with authority.
“I think you’ve done enough damage for one night, Nevadas. Leave.”
Nevadas snarled but didn’t press the attack. Instead, he glared past Craft at Tommy, his expression promising that this wasn’t over. “This is why I hate heroes,” he muttered before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shadows.
For a moment, the street was silent except for the sound of Tommy’s labored breathing.
“Are you alright?” Craft asked, turning to face him.
Tommy flinched at the question, taking a hurried step back. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he stammered, forcing himself to stand straight despite the wobble in his legs. “Thanks for the save or whatever, but I can handle myself.”
Craft tilted his head, his expression unreadable behind his mask. “Get home safe,” was all he said before taking off into the sky, his wings stirring up a gust of wind as he disappeared into the night.
Tommy stood there for a moment, staring after him, before shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “Bloody show-off.”
The adrenaline was wearing off now, and exhaustion was starting to set in. Somehow, he managed to drag himself back to his apartment, every step feeling heavier than the last. By the time he finally stumbled through the door, he was too tired to do anything but collapse onto the couch.
His wings ached, his legs felt like jelly, and his mind was still reeling from everything that had just happened. But he was alive.
And for tonight, that was enough.