Chapter Text
Tommy Big T Danger Kraken Innit, the greatest and only good man alive, was currently hiding behind a shelf in a drugstore after being stabbed. He can already hear Tubbo yelling at him for bursting through the window instead of walking in the door, which was mere feet away. In his defence, he looked like such a badass. But nonetheless, here he was, bleeding profusely after epicly entering the building like the Big Man he is, only to get stabbed by some cheater hiding behind the makeup display. A coward’s move; that dipshit must’ve known he couldn’t have taken on Tommy one-on-one, mano-y-mano, and so decided to-
“Come out, come out, wherever you are kid! You wanted to play the hero so bad before, what happened?” The man currently pointing a gun to the cashier's head crowed, his eyes sweeping the aisles as his accomplice strolled about, searching for the kid.
You fuckin’ know why you bitch. It’s cause your friend over there STABBED me. Asshole. Tommy thought, wincing as he held his hands up to his bleeding chest. Fucking hell, there was a lot of blood. What, did this guy have some sort of special, extra-makes-you-bleed knife or some shit? He would. Prick.
Tommy quickly glanced over to the taller man with the gun, dubbing him “Tallfuck,” and decided that the other’s name would be “Knife Man.” He was truly excellent at naming things. For some reason Tubbo always criticized him and his naming abilities, saying shit like “The name Tommy Big T Danger Kraken Innit is a stupid name” and “Why the hell would you name a worm ‘Clementine?’” He even had the audacity to pronounce his daughter’s name wrong; he never emphasized Clementine properly. Also, Clementine was NOT a worm, she’s a very beautiful young corn snake worthy of RESPECT, thank you very much.
“Aha!” Tommy was startled out of his very important thoughts by the shout of Knife Man, who had discovered Tommy’s super stealthy hiding place in the Hair Care aisle. Tommy winced, then, with a quick Fuck it , ran right towards the man currently pursuing him, screeching in a way that would put the demons of hell to shame. Knife Man stopped for a moment, taken aback by this crimson-covered child sprinting towards him screeching bloody murder, and that second was enough for the young vigilante to jump on and tackle him. They grappled for a bit, but Tommy ended up wrestling the knife out of his hands, and hitting Knife Man’s head against the flood. Hard. Hard enough that the man lay still, although thankfully still breathing. Tommy wasn’t trying to be a villain after all. It would look pretty bad if he killed someone, even if it was a bad guy. He stood up quickly, immediately regretting it as his vision blurred and he nearly collapsed. Fuck, blood loss, right . He took a moment to breathe, then, definitely not leaning on the shelves, walked out of the aisle toward the cashier.
Tommy looked towards Tallfuck, who screamed “BACK THE FUCK UP OR THE CHICK GETS IT” as he held the crying girl’s head up to his gun. Tommy winced, it seemed like the man was pulling her hair pretty tight; that couldn’t feel nice.
“Chill man, I’m just here to-”
“NO, KID, GET THE FUCK OUT. NOW. OR ELSE I'M PUTTING A BULLET THROUGH HER SKULL.”
Shit, this was bad. He hadn’t really come in here with a plan; it was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing. He wasn’t really sure what to do to be honest. Tommy put his hands up, making eye contact with Tallfuck, slowly but surely stepping back as he internally cursed himself out. What the fuck was he supposed to do??? He was already feeling pretty dizzy… He didn’t know how much longer he could make it without passing out. Shit, what if he got captured by the police and they took off his mask? They’d find out who he truly was. He would never get to see Clementine again. Never get to see Tubbo again. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfu-
Suddenly, as though the universe had heard his tearful, silent pleas to see his beautiful little snake-daughter just one more time, a tall, lanky man with fluffy brown hair stepped in the shop. Tommy was so grateful to see the hero he didn’t even care that he’d used the door to enter, like a boring bitch. The man looked at Tallfuck, the cashier, and Tommy, and, quickly assessing the situation, said “Put the gun down.” Tallfuck complied, his eyes glazed over as the hero’s powers took effect. Once Linguist spoke to you, it was impossible to resist his commands. Fuck. Wait. One Tallfuck was no longer a threat, Tommy would be next. Shit. He frantically searched around, looking for an exit, while trying to not make it obvious to Linguist that he intended to escape. He didn’t see any particularly great options except sprinting to the door and making a run for it. He wasn’t really certain how well he could run like this either, with more blood dripping out of him as every second passed, but he would have to make do.
Just as Linguist turned towards him, Tallfuck restrained and clearly intending to do the same to the vigilante he’d just encountered, Tommy decided to make use of his tried and true tactic: screaming like an absolute motherfucker. If there was one thing the great TommyInnit was good at, it was being LOUD. He screeched incomprehensibly, and Linguist and the cashier flinched at the onslaught of utter nonsense, some of which definitely included swears in at least one language. Tommy made use of this moment of pause as he booked it past the two out the door, continuing to shriek like a bat out of hell to avoid the hero’s calls. People turned to look at him; he probably would’ve drawn attention to himself with all the blood anyways, but the demonic howling certainly wasn’t helping.
Tommy stumbled down an alleyway, wheezing as his cuts started to burn more and more, and whipped off his backpack. C’mon, c’mon… AHA! He pulled out a pair of ear plugs. He always carried them on him, as Tubbo snored like a motherfucker at night, and the few times he had to sleep in the same room- no, the same house- as him without them had nearly driven him to homicide. Homie-cide. Anyways, Tommy was never without them- he had stashes everywhere, like a raccoon, Tubbo said, as Tommy yelled defensively. Tommy shoved them in his ears as quickly as he could, then scrambled to find a hiding place.
Fuck. Shit. Okay. What would Tubbo do? “Not get himself into this mess in the first place” that little Tubbo-ish voice in his head said, which Tommy hissed at. Suddenly, he saw it. How could he have been so blind? There, near the end of the alleyway, was a large trash bin, filled with wrinkled, black bags. Tommy stumbled towards it as fast as he could, before climbing up into it and shuffling the bags to cover him. He scrunched his nose at the smell, but convinced himself that a little garbage-smell was infinitely better than going to jail and losing visiting rights to his beloved Clementine. Also Tubbo, he supposed.
Though he wasn’t aware of it, Tommy had hidden himself in the large rectangular bin mere seconds before Linguist came sprinting into the alley, yelling “Come out! Come out and show yourself now!” These calls fell upon now-deaf ears, and the alley remained silent despite the lanky man’s furious glaring. “Fuck,” he swore, and continued to run on to past as he searched for the vigilante.
Tommy, still not knowing whether he was in the clear or not, pulled out his phone as slowly and (hopefully) quietly as possible, and pulled up the contact “Tubbster.” He took a deep breath and, after emotionally preparing himself for the scolding he was about to text, sent his best friend a message:
hey big man ik i said i was dont with patrols ealrier but thne i saw ths bitch fuckube with this women n tubs u knwo how i love the women the yr so pog but antyays i got in a bit dod a scufflyy and that tall bhero bicbth chaser me n now im inthe transh can u helps pls???? also i got stabbdbned a bit lmao not pog
tommy that the fccku do yoiu mena youre in the trahs??
how the fuck?
fuckgin hell. ill trakc ur location rn
can yoiu not get in trouble fo r twenty minusre
tubbbbbbbbbbb pls i a m injustred
yeah bc ur erwr being fuckugn stupdi
thast not bery nice
i want nym daguetb
daughrt
daughter
tommy i ams in the middle of rying to save ur ass u can see clam later
HOWB SDAD EOYU MOTHWERFULRHF BE
HER SMANEM IS C L E M E N T I N E
AND SHE IS M TBEAUTOFUL DAUHTER
Tommy huffed. Clam. CLAM. That fucking bitch. Tubbo was such a fucking rude dickhead. Clementine deserved nothing but the utmost respect. She was a beautiful young lady and should be treated as such. He grumbled, shifting in the trash a bit before wincing as his injuries made themselves known. Christ, wasn’t he supposed to have like. An immune system or some shit. Shouldn’t there be scabs or whatever the fuck. This was bullshit. The great Tommyinnit had much more important things to do than lie around in the trash, bleeding out, while waiting for Tubbo to save him. Wait, Tubbo. SHIT he was getting a call!
Tommy scrambled to get out his ear plugs, and heard the agitated voice of his best friend come through the speakers of his cracked phone, along with the real thing a few meters away. “TOMMY! TOMMY? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”
“I’M RIGHT HERE BITCH!” He yelled, trying to crawl his way out of the trash pile he was currently nestled in.
“Oh my God, Tommy, you really are a fucking raccoon, Jesus Christ,” Tubbo said as he pulled Tommy out from the bin. Tommy scowled at him, grumbling in an attempt to cover his hisses of pain as his wounds were jostled. “Alright big man, come on, let’s get you back to the apartment,” Tubbo sighed, half-carrying his stubborn best friend who absolutely REFUSED to be carried “out of pity,” even though at this point he was basically incapable of standing by himself.
The pair finally reached the end of the alley, Tubbo shoving a hoodie on to Tommy to cover up his fairly obvious vigilante uniform (along with the blood stains) as he groaned. Tubbo removed his friend’s mask, and pulled him up on his bike as gently as possible. The two had been riding the old bike for years, so it was practically second nature for Tommy to balance on the bike as Tubbo slowly brought them back through the city to their home.
As the two rode through the city, bickering the entire way, Tubbo noted a drugstore nearby was currently surrounded by police, and it appeared as though the famed hero Linguist was giving a statement. Tubbo sighed, what the fuck did he get himself into this time. He didn’t mention it (for now), figuring it was better to keep his friend going with their usual banter than actually dig into him when he was pretty much out of it. It was unlikely he would remember much, anyways.
“Fuck you, you god-damned bitch. I’ll have you know I am the biggest, tallest man alive. Except for maybe Philza minecraft, creator of minecraft- Amen- but that is simply because he is above all men, everywhere. Really Tubbo it wouldn’t be fair to compare anyone to him; he is simply so poggers. And anyways-” Tommy babbled, not really aware that Tubbo had been only half-listening this entire time, focusing intently on simply getting the two home so that he could tend to his dumbass friend’s injuries so he didn’t end up hospitalized.
Finally, the two rounded the corner, Tommy somehow on the topic of why fish don’t deserve rights, and Tubbo pulled Tommy off the bike and set him gently on the ground. Tubbo locked the bike, breath coming out in pants; he was used to bringing Tommy around with him, but he’d gone fast. Tubbo pulled his incoherent best friend up from the floor, dragging him into the lobby as he prayed they wouldn’t encounter anyone on the way up to their apartment. Thank god they were only on the second floor , he thought, as he and Tommy got in the elevator.
Neither took notice of the TV playing in the lobby, too absorbed in the principles of the autonomy of aquatic species and trying to make sure their idiot best friend didn’t fucking die , to recognize what was occuring on the screen.
“Here we have the #8 hero Linguist to discuss the incident tonight at the CVS off of 5th Street. Sir, what can you tell us?”
“Not much the police you interviewed earlier haven’t already told you, other than this. There was a vigilante here tonight, who I’ve heard goes by the name “TommyInnit.” Be aware, Tommy, that one day you will face the law. We heroes do not look kindly on those who choose to take justice into their own hands. Furthermore, there will be a $50,000 reward for anyone able to give information pertaining to the identity of this vigilante. Please call the following hotline-”
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Somewhere, a few blocks away, a blond man in a white sweater and his younger brother exchanged glances. The man smirked, raising an eyebrow at his sibling in a purple t-shirt, who sighed “Punz, man, we can’t rat him out. You know Tommy trusts us.”
“I’m just saying Purp, 50K is a lot of money. Besides, what’s the kid ever done for you?” The man replied, scoffing.
“Punz, he’s one of our buyers. You know we can’t reveal that shit without losing our credibility.” He countered.
“Alright, alright, I know. Kid’s just fucking annoying. He could do with being knocked down a peg. I won’t say anything right now; 50K isn’t worth the trust of our buyers. But if it goes higher, well, I might just let it slip…”
“Whatever. We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it, I guess.”