Chapter Text
It’s been about a week since the villain attack that got his memories back and subsequently outed his vigilante persona to the top three heroes of the city. There were a lot of fears constantly passed around in the small apartment that Tommy shared with his (fellow vigilante) friends, regarding what the heroes will do now that they know Tommy is Loophole and very much alive, or if they’ll expose him to the public. There hasn’t been any news so far, but anything is possible. The only thing being reported on is the arrest of Vengeance and the reconstruction of the city block where the fight took place. They had mentioned a civilian hostage who was saved by a few local vigilantes, but kept Tommy’s name and face out thankfully.
Another change in the apartment occurred when Tommy recounted the entirety of his fall. Before, the other three knew the heroes had something to do with it, if the encounter immediately beforehand and the power suppression cuff they found around his ankle were anything to go by. But they didn’t know the whole story, how Tommy was moments from resuming his evasion, how Angel stopped his momentum with the cuff, which led to him falling from a good nine-story building without any chance of saving himself.
(Tubbo’s eyes burned when he found out, a glare settling over his face that could kill if pointed at a target. Ranboo held onto his arm as the boy threatened, “If I ever see that bird brain again I’ll tear his wings off.”)
Then, they filled Tommy in on what happened next.
——
“…Of course, that doesn’t matter because I am very much a Big Man!”
Tubbo rolls his eyes at Tommy’s retort, watching from the outward camera in Tommy’s mask that shows him the current scene. He can only imagine the stance that Tommy put on while saying that.
The muffled voices of the other heroes don’t quite make it through Tubbo’s headset, but he can see their lips moving anyway. Tubbo checks one of his screens that shows a diagram of all the parts of Loophole’s costume. It may not seem like much on the outside, but Tubbo’s a fairly creative engineer. He’s got bulletproof armor, lightweight and only slightly resistant to Tommy’s ability (lest it fall off on accident), a piece around the upper arm that monitors his heart rate, a camera with a live feed of everything Tommy sees, a microphone near the jawline, and then there’s the rocket boots. While the other parts may have been borrowed from tech shops or government agencies, the rocket boots were entirely his own invention. They can launch a person with precision up to a dozen or so feet, they can hold 5 canisters of gunpowder and recharge in about 6 minutes, before needing a refill. Not to mention how unlucky a person would be to get kicked by that thing.
By now, Tommy’s stalled the chase long enough for the next charge to ready, so Tubbo tells Tommy through his earpiece, “All set to go, big man. Let me know if you need directions once you’re on your way.”
Tommy doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t want to give away the fact that he has a man behind the scenes, but Tubbo’s sure he’s got it. “Well, would love to say that I enjoyed our little chat, but that would be a lie! See ya!” Always one for theatrics, Tommy announces his leave and Tubbo sees him activate the gunpowder in the boots, eyes pointed towards the neighboring rooftop landing across an 8-foot gap. Tubbo isn’t worried, the boots definitely have enough launch power to get him that far.
Only a second passes before he hears the piercing sound of Tommy screaming, the wind shuttering the connection, the absolute terror that he can hear in his friend’s yell. The camera no longer aims at the roof, instead, it’s pointed at the brick outside of the building wall, then the ground, the alley between the buildings, the concrete approaching faster and faster and-
“GUYS!” Tubbo stands abruptly, shouting into the apartment from his command center. The headset falls from his head and he makes sure to close his eyes to avoid the moment of impact, trying to memorize the address and grab his mask while yelling, “Boo, Purp, get over here now!”
Ranboo slides through the bedroom doorframe wearing pajama pants and a long sleeve. Purpled jumps up from the couch in the living room, instinctively grabbing his and Ranboo’s masks from the coffee table.
“What’s going on?!” Ranboo asks frantically, knowing that only something really bad has happened for Tubbo to behave this urgently. They jump when Purpled throws his mask at him, hitting them in the chest while they fumble to grab it.
Tubbo slides his mask on and grabs Purpled and Ranboo by their forearms, feeling his nerves thrumming under his skin while he hikes up his shoulders to stop them from shaking. “It’s Tommy, we need to go right now,” he sputters, clenching tightly to his friends as he relays the address.
The world around the three blurs, meshing into empty void before snapping right back to the dark of night. Tubbo can just make out the outlines of the buildings before them, quickly getting his bearings before he books it toward where he’s certain Tommy landed. He can hear arguing from atop the roof, and he knows their time is limited.
Purpled and Ranboo follow close behind while Tubbo scans the dark alley, wondering why there’s no body to be found, until he finally hears a rustle from the large dumpster. He runs over, standing on his toes to see into the bin, and his worst fears are confirmed.
Tommy. He lays lifeless, or close to it, his body seizing slightly, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. His right arm seems to have caught the edge of the open lid of the dumpster, as it is splattered with blood and bits of Tommy’s sleeve, the arm itself bent out of shape. His chest rises and falls erratically, struggling to breathe with no doubt broken ribs pressing down on his lungs. His once blond hair is now damp with crimson, turned black in the night. Tubbo can’t see much else from his view, mind racing with possibilities and viable solutions. They can’t go to a hospital, they’ll ask too many questions, they could be separated or put in the system, since none of them are 18 yet. He’s terrified to try and move his body, in case further injury occurs, but there’s little else he can do. The heroes will be here at any moment.
Luckily (as lucky as one could be in this dire situation), Purpled makes the choice for him, not so gracefully shoving Tubbo aside and lifting Tommy with ease. He cradles their broken friend with as much care as possible, making sure his neck is stable and his chest isn’t compressed.
Despite his lanky limbs and the height that Tubbo knows he has, Tommy just looks so small curled up in Purpled’s arms. So far, the panic has put Tubbo into a fog, where his vision narrows and his thoughts can only perceive what’s in front of him and what his next move is. But seeing Tommy like that turns the fog into a hurricane tearing through his brain. Tears well but are fought back just as harshly, his nerves thrum with energy and yet he feels frozen still, forcing himself to breathe but not getting enough oxygen all the same.
Purpled turns his head to glare at Tubbo, since Tommy is usually the one who makes decisions but when he’s out of frame, it’s up to Tubbo to take control. But he can’t think straight, he knows time is running out but the panic is turning his mind in circles, spinning like a merry-go-round turning too quickly to possibly be safe to play on. It doesn’t take long for Purpled to confirm the blind terror overwhelming him, so he barks out, “We’re going to Niki’s.”
Ranboo doesn’t respond outside of a quick nod, reaching to hold tight to the arms of the other two teens then in a flash teleporting them to the main area of Niki’s Bakery. The rush of falling through the void kickstarts something within Tubbo, giving him an ounce of clarity for a moment which he uses to dart into the back. He knows there’s a staircase there, and that Niki lives in the apartment above. She wasn’t out on patrol tonight, so hopefully, she is here. He doesn’t know what to do if she isn’t.
The door to the back kitchen slams against the wall, Tubbo simultaneously yelling out, “Niki! We need help, Niki!” He waits until he hears some commotion upstairs before he glances back at his friends. Ranboo has shoved two dining tables together to lay Tommy on, moving slowly and cautiously. A dull thud can be heard when Tommy is laid on the tables, coming from a thick metal cuff around his ankle. The moonlight streaming in through the windows already makes the unconscious blond look like a ghost. Tubbo’s heart drops and he bangs on the door with his fist. “Niki!” He screams again.
“Coming! I’m here!” Niki appears at the bottom of the staircase, pink hair in wild disarray with a cardigan pulled over her sleepwear. “What’s wrong? Tubbo?”
“Tommy,” Tubbo breathes out, retreating back to the open space where Purpled is hunched over the supine body checking for breathing, the mask removed and placed aside, blood already pooling on the table in too many places to properly pinpoint, but the worst is the puddle surrounding Tommy’s skull.
When he sees Tubbo return with Niki, Purpled stands straight. “No doubt several broken ribs and a punctured lung. His pulse is fairly erratic too, with his injuries so severe, I doubt his heart will hold out much longer. Not to mention his head wound,” he relays, expression grim. Tubbo feels faint, feeling like the minutes are counting down to the end of his friendship— not even, they were like brothers—slipping away right before his eyes.
“N-Niki, where’s Puffy right now?” He pushes the words through his jaw despite every muscle in his body tensing as though preparing for an explosion.
He can see in real time the information processing in Niki’s head, her eyes darting over every inch of Tommy before meeting his gaze and registering his question. “Her house, on the east side,” she replies, voice forcibly neutral.
Ranboo, who was before standing to the side, back rigid and observing the room, jumps back into the conversation, sidling up to Niki and demanding, “Where exactly?” Niki doesn’t seem bothered by the command, answering his question quickly. She can already tell where the conversation was going so she takes hold of Ranboo’s arm, nodding to let them know she’s ready to teleport.
The 90 seconds that they are gone are perhaps the longest seconds of Tubbo’s entire life. Purpled continues to inspect the various injuries Tommy accrued, knowing that some parts like bones or joints need adjusting before they can be healed, and he tries his hand at removing the cuff. Tubbo stands at the head of the table, gently sweeping away stray curls from Tommy’s face, making sure his eyes are still open and his breathing continues. He can’t say the blond is awake, even if conscious, he’s not reacting to any stimuli and now and again his body will jolt and stutter. The short seizures terrify him, giving him the worst possible scenario of brain damage too severe to heal. He can only hope Puffy will get there soon.
“Nuke,” Tubbo jolts when Purpled utters his vigilante name, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. Purpled isn’t one for physical comfort, and neither is Tubbo, but there are a lot of things that are out of the ordinary right now. “Stop thinking so much.”
“I can’t help it,” Tubbo whispers, too afraid to speak any louder and somehow make the situation worse. “What if he-“
“Stop,” Purpled scolds, tightening his grip to a point where it hurts. His voice may be brash but it still betrays some vulnerability, and Tubbo has to force himself to breathe and not spiral because he’s not the only one with everything to lose.
With an otherworldly pop and the sound of multiple pairs of feet landing on solid ground, it seems the others have arrived. The first thing Tubbo notices is the horror reflected in Puffy’s dark eyes as she takes in the state of Tommy. He knows whatever emotion she’s feeling is ten times worse than what she shows, Puffy’s got a heart of gold and, like Niki, cares an awful lot about the teenagers.
Puffy has the moniker “Captain” in the field. She’s not a hero, or villain, or vigilante, she’s more of a healer that can be hired by any group in need of one. She doesn’t share any allegiances except with the people she cares for. Most of whom are in the room at the moment.
“The head, first,” Purpled says, forgoing any greeting, not that anyone expected one.
Puffy nods and quickly gets into position, placing her palms on the sides of Tommy’s skull. She’s schooling her expression but Tubbo can see her hands shaking ever so slightly. As the warm glow of her power erupts from her fingertips, she asks, “What happened?” All eyes immediately turn to Tubbo, Purpled seeming especially attentive. He likely wanted to ask before but knew better to wait until everyone was there.
Tubbo gulps, feeling smaller than ever under the scrutiny, but he takes a breath and explains what he knows. “Angel, Blade, and Phantom were chasing Loophole over the rooftops for the last thirty minutes, until he had to stop to recharge his boots and-“ his voice catches on something in his throat, despite not mentioning anything troubling yet. The trio of heroes are often on the prowl for Tommy’s capture, it’s nothing new for them to give chase in the late hours of the night. That thought makes Tubbo spare a glance at an analog clock on a far wall. 2:37 AM. He doesn’t know what to do with this information. “-a-and,” Tubbo continues, “he was ready, about to jump when-“
-he hears the piercing sound of Tommy screaming- the absolute terror that- the concrete approaching faster and faster and-
“He fell.”
—-
So it’s been a week and Tommy is starting to go a little stir-crazy. The others have forbidden him from leaving the apartment until things have calmed down, but things are already calm! There’s been no news from the SBI, nothing about Loophole’s status or his identity, even Niki’s bakery is back up and running. Even his menial part-time job is better than sitting on the couch all day. He’d kill to get back into training so he can start doing vigilante work again, but no matter how much he argues, Tubbo refuses to budge on his opinion.
Apparently, it’s ‘too dangerous’ and his identity is ‘compromised’ and he’s ‘still recovering.’ But really, Tommy’s fine! He’ll have to work around the fact that his right arm is basically useless, but it’s not like he’s completely out of commission. He does lack the strength he once had (although not that much considering he was 13 when he began patrolling the streets) since the only exercise he’s had is going to and from work. Niki wouldn’t let him do any labor-intensive work anyway.
He groans aloud to the empty apartment, collapsing back on the length of the sofa. He’s just so bored, it’s mind-numbing how little stimulation he’s getting right now. He… kinda wants to do crime.
Like, no one knows Loophole is alive! And his power (if used stealthily) can get him into anywhere he wants! It’s a foolproof plan, honestly. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.
He wouldn’t normally use his persona for villainous deeds, but after the heroes, you know, tried to murder him, he’s been feeling a bit vindictive. Can you blame him? He’s gone through three years of panic attacks and not remembering shit because of those assholes, with chronic pain that will likely follow him for the rest of his life. He can’t believe Phantom tried to befriend him, even if neither of them knew Tommy was Loophole at the time, it’s ridiculous. He deserves a bit of crime, as a treat.
Before he knows it he’s leaving a sticky note on the coffee table saying he’s out for a walk, pulling on a dark hoodie with a matching beanie for good measure to cover his blond hair, then he’s out the door. He uses the time traveling down the stairs to think of possible targets. The center of the city would likely be busy at this time, but that could help him blend in with the crowd and not raise suspicion. He’s tempted to use the jewelry store near the park, but that seems like too big of a risk for a solo mission. Not to say he’s never stolen before, but that was a long, long time ago.
Maybe a dollar store would be a good start.
Walking along the street with pockets filled with meaningless plastic rings and pieces of candy, Tommy is content with his minor haul. He figures he’s earned a hot cocoa from Niki’s to celebrate.
He’s got his 'disguise' so he doesn’t think much about entering the newly built storefront and waltzing to the front counter. Niki is wiping down the counter with her back to the front and begins her spiel before she turns around, “Hi, how can I help you t-“ She stops once she recognizes Tommy standing at the other side of the register.
Tommy just gives a cheesy grin and says, “‘ow do?” He expects some sort of greeting back, but instead she grabs tight to his wrist and pulls him through the door to the back.
She only lets go once the door is shut behind them. “What are you doing here?” She asks, crossing her arms and pouting. Apparently, she’s not as happy about the reunion as he is.
“What? Can’t a man buy a cup of cocoa after a long day?” Tommy doesn’t really get why she’s so perturbed.
“Tommy,” she warns in a low voice, “Wilbur knows you work here. He’s been asking about you. Are you trying to get caught?”
“I’m being careful!” Tommy protests, pointing to the hood over his beanie, “See? I’m all in-cog-ni-to and shit.”
Niki rolls her eyes, letting her disappointment show clear on her face. She can’t stay mad at him forever, though, so after a few moments of scrutinizing, she huffs out a sigh and lets her arms drop. “What am I going to do with you?” She asks rhetorically.
“Well, make me a hot cocoa, preferably,” he answers anyway, giving her his award-winning smile. She rolls her eyes again, but this time she’s smiling back. She tells him to stay in the back while she heads up front to make him his drink and attend to any customers.
With her hands busy, her mind races with worry. She knows Tommy is too energetic to stay hidden in his apartment, but she can’t help but wish that he would be more concerned for his safety. She just… she can’t bear to see him hurt.
Not again.
—
They enlisted the help of Ponk, a civilian friend of Puffy who is trained in the medical field, once Puffy uses the full extent of her power on Tommy’s injuries.
He awoke one time while she mended his skull, taking in a great breath of air as if bursting through the surface of an icy lake. She kept his head steady in her hands but his left arm grasped out as his eyes darted around. “T’bo, T-Tu-b-,” he muttered, pleading for his best friend, who was thankfully by his side ready to clasp tightly to his outstretched hand.
“I’m here, Tom,” Tubbo assured him despite his voice breaking, tears making their way down his face for the first time that night. “I’ll always be here.”
Then Tommy fell unconscious, and has stayed that way ever since.
Ponk showed up an hour later with medicinal supplies in a large shoulder bag. They prepared an IV and checked all of his vitals - low blood pressure from the blood loss, heart rate above normal but steadily calming, pupils different sizes and eyes occasionally twitching - but stable, for the most part. Luckily, he has tools to remove the metal cuff fastened around Tommy's ankle, which they all know is a power suppressor.
“Change the IV every three hours with a fresh bag,” Ponk had said, giving Purpled a backpack with various supplies. “Call me tomorrow morning if he doesn’t wake.”
She also provided a list of signs that he will definitely need a hospital, like a major seizure or vomiting while unconscious. Niki was pretty sure that Ranboo and Tubbo stopped breathing while hearing him out.
Then they all left. Niki promised to check up on them and made them promise to call her frequently and then she was left alone. Well, not completely alone, Puffy stayed with her. Together they cleaned the blood that had dried to the table and the drops that spilled to the floor.
It was beyond late at that point, the sun close to rising. Niki left a note on the door saying the bakery would be closed until further notice. Puffy pulled her by her hand back up to her room, whispering comforts and cuddling close. “They’re so young,” Niki cried, in the dark of her room wrapped in the arms of the person she trusted with all of her heart. “They don’t deserve this much pain.”
“I know,” Puffy whispered and hugged her tighter, “I know.”
For the following months, her patrons would take notice of the lack of light in her eyes, the missing pep in her step, the cheerful grin that used to shine so freely dimmed to falsified smiles that never quite reached her eyes. Most were polite enough to not mention it, but gifted her pleasantries all the same with extra tips, or compliments, or simple greetings and “wish you well”s. For the few that dared ask why she seemed so blue, they would be told about a kid nephew- more like a brother- who lay sleeping in a hospital bed.
She tried not to resent the thoughts and prayers for better days, knowing no sunrise would ever grace the skies as beautifully without the eyes of Tommy to gaze upon it.