Chapter Text
Tommy was starving when he woke up. It was the only thing on his mind for the first couple of minutes. He was so, so, hungry, and rather thirsty too, now that he thought about it. Like, really thirsty. It was like he hadn’t eaten in days why hadn’t he eaten before he went to sleep—
Wait.
He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He—he had passed out.
Tommy sat up, suddenly aware of how awkwardly he was wedged between a dumpster and a wall. His muscles ached and cramped in protest. How long had he been out? It felt like morning.
Everything was usually a slightly different color when the sun had barely risen, and right now everything was tinted in that color.
Had he been out the entire night?
He grabbed the black backpack and dug into one of the outside pockets, where he kept emergency granola bars. He didn’t really like granola bars, but at the moment, he’d take anything.
After a couple bites, he searched for a water bottle too.
His arm hurt. Oh joy, he was back at feeling that again. He really missed the days when he could just heal himself with barely a thought.
Once he’d wolfed down the bar and found some water, he pulled out his phones, hoping no one had tried to contact him during the night.
He turned on his civilian phone first.
And then stared at the date.
He . . . he’d been unconscious for . . .
Two full days??
He hadn’t just been behind the dumpster for one night. He’d been there for three.
No wonder he was so thirsty.
He had fourteen notifications from Kristin.
Boss: Did you sleep in? I got a call that the cafe isn’t open. You knew you had the opening shift, right?
Missed call
Boss: Are you sick? You didn’t look great last night.
Boss: Tommy?
2 missed calls
4 missed calls
Boss: if this is you quitting, just tell me. Otherwise I feel like I should report you missing.
Boss: Tommy please call me
Boss: Or text
Missed call
Cool. Cool cool cool. Tommy closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall behind him. He was probably reported missing. Again. He was going to have to apologize for scaring her, and for leaving her to run the coffee shop without help.
He was also going to need a good reason for being gone so long.
Opening his eyes, he grabbed his hero work phone. Better to go through all of his notifications first before making a plan. Six missed calls from Tubbo, and four from Ranboo. And then twenty total notifications from the Captain.
3 missed calls
Cap: Blink? Are you sick?
Cap: you’re supposed to be at work by 1pm
Cap: ???
Cap: call me when you see this.
Missed call
Cap: Blink I’m getting worried. Please respond, I just want to know if you’re okay.
4 missed calls
Cap: why is your emergency contact a rejection hotline? This isn’t funny
Cap: call me
5 missed calls
He was in trouble. He’d forgotten that he’d put the rejection hotline number as his emergency contact. It had been really funny, at the time. Apparently the Captain didn’t share his humor. Okay, so he needed a reason why Tommy the normal barista disappeared for two days, and then he needed a reason why Blink the superhero went MIA for two days.
Cool. He could do that.
Two days. Could he just tell the truth and say he’d passed out for two days? That sounded like it would spark more questions than he’d like to answer. Either way, he couldn’t give the same excuse twice. It was bad enough that both identities disappeared for the same two days. He couldn’t let it be easily connected. Maybe . . .
He jolted, sitting up ramrod straight.
The Syndicate meeting
He’d missed it. He’d stood up and ghosted an entire villain organization. That was more than just being in trouble. He was dead. They were going to kill him.
Tommy scrambled for his Orpheus phone and opened it up, not even looking at how many notifications he’d missed.
Blade: hey, Hermes said you aren’t at the pickup spot, where are you?
Blade: if you got held up on the way that’s fine, just text me when you see httis
Blade: *this
Blade: Hermes is going to drive around a little to look for you, but he’ll loop back. If you get there before he does just wait for him
Missed call
Blade: do you need some help?
Blade: are you okay?
Missed call
Blade: meeting is over, we’re going to look for you. Let me know when you get this
37 missed calls
Blade: we’ll find you. Just stay alive
Tommy stared and stared at the messages. That was . . . surprisingly lacking in death threats. He reread them a few more times. What . . . what was he supposed to do now? They were looking for him. Honestly, he was a little surprised none of them had found him yet.
If he ever needed to hide a body, he now knew where to put it.
He made his eyes flash silver, and Clementine came into sight, kneeling in front of him. Half of her translucent body was inside the dumpster, since there wasn’t much space. Her face looked relieved. “You’re alive.” she said.
“Yup.” Tommy said. “I’m alive, and in so much trouble. Did you see any of the Syndicate while I was out?”
“Couldn’t.” she replied. “You were unconscious, so I wasn’t around.”
“Ah.” he said intelligently. He hadn’t known that about his powers. “Well, now I have to tell a bunch of people that I’m alive and not to worry about me going missing for two whole days.”
“Yikes.” Clementine offered.
And that about summed it all up. He felt really weak, and pulled out a second granola bar to eat while he thought. Maybe he could tell the heroes that he got kidnapped by the Syndicate, but he didn’t really want to place the blame on them. Heroes hated them enough as it was. Maybe he could say that he got mugged on his way home from work. For two days.
Hmm.
Maybe he got mugged and went into a short coma. Yeah. And has been at the hospital this whole time. Kristin might buy it.
The others probably wouldn’t. He was supposed to be the kinda guy who stopped muggers. Maybe he could say he got lost in the drainage tunnels and didn’t have cell service down there. For two days.
He sighed. That wasn’t a very solid excuse. Everyone would have questions like ‘why were you in the drainage tunnels’ and ‘how did you manage to stay lost for so long’ and ‘are you an idiot’, which he’d really rather avoid answering.
At least Shuteye hadn’t made any commitments. It wasn’t unusual for his other vigilante identity to go quiet for several nights at a time. Maybe he could put in a good word for Shuteye. Tell the heroes he saved him or something.
He sighed. This was getting complicated. Either that, or he just needed more food in order to think straight.
Out of the people he needed to talk to, he should probably talk to the Blade first. And right away. That wasn’t a phone call that should happen in public, and he had a feeling it would get too complicated to explain over text. He would just tell him . . . that he passed out. Yeah. Maybe the truth would actually hold up with him. Maybe.
He didn’t have any better ideas.
Before he could think better of it, he hit the Blade’s contact and put the phone to his ear. The Blade answered just before the second ring. “Orpheus?”
His mouth was dry. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m so sorry I missed the meeting.”
“Forget the meeting, are you okay? Do you need help?”
Tommy’s thoughts glitched a little. He hadn’t expected there to be so much worry in the guy’s voice. “Yeah? I mean no, I don’t need help. Yes, I’m okay. I—” what was his story again?
“You sure? Are you hurt?”
“Yeah, I’m fine now.” He said, head racing. He needed an excuse. Anything. “I just . . . had a run in with Shuteye.”
What
That wasn’t what he was going to say, not at all, but he needed to keep going and make it work. Wow, he’d just made everything so much worse. He really didn’t want the Blade hunting down his last vigilante identity. “He’s a—a new vigilante. We fought, I slipped up, he put me to sleep.” It was possibly the next closest he could get to the truth. He swallowed hard and went on.
“I guess he went a little overboard, because I didn’t wake up for a couple days, apparently. I woke up at his base or whatever, and then we had the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had in my life. We cleared up some misunderstandings, I talked him out of turning me in, and we parted ways.”
Was that even believable? It was true that a conversation between Shuteye and Orpheus would be one of the weirdest conversations he’d had, and he talked to Tubbo on a fairly regular basis. “I don’t know, man. I don’t remember half of it. I think I’m still waking up. But I’m fine.”
There was shuffling on the other end. “Do you want me to have a talk with Shuteye?”
Well that sounded . . . terrifying. “No, No, I talked to him plenty. It’s fine. I’m okay. I’m just sorry I missed the meeting.”
“Orpheus, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re okay. We can call in another meeting as soon as you like.”
“Oh.” Tommy said. It was getting hard to think. The Syndicate, the group of the city’s most feared villains, the group that—aside from the Blade—he hadn’t even met, were all willing to just . . . drop everything and have another impromptu meeting for him? “What? I mean—you don’t have to, I can just meet with you or send the information or something.”
“It’s fiiiine, everyone will want to see that you’re safe anyway. Plus we’ll have info to share with you. It’s just easier this way.”
Everyone . . . wanted to—what? He didn’t know what to think, much less say, to that. It was a lot to process for someone who had only just woken up from being unconscious for two days. They were going to tell him information? What sort of information? Had they found out something about what happened to Icarus?
“Unless . . . you don’t feel up to it. It doesn’t have to be right away.” The Blade said hesitantly. “If you need some time that’s understandable.”
“No, uh,” Tommy stammered. “I should share what I know with you sooner rather than later. I could do, um, hold on,” What day was it? “I could do tomorrow?”
He grabbed his other phones to check their calendars. If he remembered correctly, he should have that day off for both jobs.
“Tomorrow sounds good.” The Blade said. “Let’s do uhh, hm, could you do four o’clock?”
“PM?”
A snort on the other end. “Yeah, PM. Four AM is Thanatos’ bedtime. Same meetin’ spot?”
“Yeah. See you then.” Tommy said, and he hung up.
Well. They didn’t want to kill him. That was nice. He loved it when things turned out that way. He wished it happened more often. With a sigh, he gathered his phones and stood up. His next mission was to prevent giving Kristin a heart attack. He shot her a text before clambering out from behind the dumpster.
Big man: I’m alive.
Big man: omw to explain.
The first few steps were shaky. His head spun a little. His arm ached a little, but he wasn’t going to worry about that until he was at the Hero Base.
For now, Kristin.
It was early morning, so there were a few people in line when he walked in, with a couple more at various tables.
“TOMMY INNIT WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?”
Every head in the room turned. He gave a sheepish wave as Kristin abandoned the customers in line and ran over to him. “Hey Kristin.”
“Start talking.” She said, pulling out her phone to show him his text. “You said you’d explain.”
“Yeah.” he glanced around the cafe. “Is uh, is everyone curious or can we maybe . . .”
Kristin sighed, turning to the line. “Is anyone in a hurry? I need a few minutes with him.”
The customers told her they could wait, so she dragged him into the backroom. “Well?”
“So I got mugged on my way home.” Tommy said, and Kristin’s face immediately changed to worry. “I think they were more angry than poor, and one of them hit real hard. Guess I was in a short coma. I woke up at the hospital about an hour ago. Sorry I left you hanging.”
“Oh, Tommy!” Kristin said. “That’s terrible, you should have just called. Should you be up so soon?”
He waved her off, “I’m fine now, don’t worry. I wanted to tell you in person. Didn’t think you’d believe me if I said I was okay, unless you could see it for yourself. I’m sorry there wasn’t anyone to tell you.”
“Give my number to your emergency contact.” Kristin said. “In fact, have them message me so I can add them to my phone. Next time something happens they can just call me. I don’t mind working a few days on my own.”
“Uh, yeah . . .” That was a fantastic idea, if he had someone who could do that. And if he’d actually been at the hospital and not passed out behind a dumpster.
“Tommy, you do have an emergency contact, right?”
He thought about how he’d put down the rejection hotline number as his emergency contact for his hero identity. In his defense, aside from it being incredibly funny, it wasn’t like he could put down a number to someone he knew without his identity being compromised.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then shut it. Hopefully, if he ever ended up at a hospital, they wouldn’t realize he had multiple phones and look through them. Especially not Orpheus’s. For most of his contacts he tried to give normal, non-suspicious names. The Blade, on the other hand . . . he needed to change it to something else. If he got a text from ‘The Blade’ saying he was missing a Syndicate meeting, he would wake up in a jail cell.
“You mean you were in a coma at the hospital alone?!”
Tommy winced. He was pretty sure the customers heard that. “Kristin, it’s fine, it’s not like I was awake to notice—”
“Tommy!” she said. “Why don’t you have an emergency contact?”
Well this was awkward. “Uh, the only contact I have on my phone is yours, and like, work and life separation and all that.”
“You don’t have anyone else in your . . .” she stared at him in shock. “You’re what, eighteen? And I’m your only contact?”
Seventeen, actually. “Nineteen.”
Kristin shook her head. “Right, okay. Make me your emergency contact. If you’re unable to make a decision, I’m not letting some stranger make life and death calls! They need to have someone who knows you! Do you have any allergies? Any medications you need to avoid? Are you—”
“Kristin.”
“Listen, I know you hate being called a child but you’re still a teenager—”
“I’m a legal adult.”
“—and you’re saying I’m the only adult in your life? Add me as your emergency contact. I can’t believe I’m becoming a parent today.”
“I am also an adult in my life.” Tommy said, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t an adult and he’d never had one who stayed—no, that wasn’t fair. His parents didn’t want to die. His last foster mother didn’t want him to leave. Even the terrible adults didn’t want him out of their sight. In fact, if he had the power to make the adults in his life leave, his last two years would have been so much less painful.
He didn’t like getting close to adults. He didn’t trust them. Even the nice ones. Even the ones who he knew would love him. He didn’t want them to discover the people who chased him, and he didn’t want them to look at him with disappointment.
“Just make me your emergency contact.” she said. “I won’t mother you or anything if you don’t want it, but you should have someone in your corner when things get bad.”
He nodded, pulling out his phone. It was probably the best compromise he’d get, and he could always change it later. It would give her peace of mind. “Alright. But I don’t plan on getting mugged again. It’s already happened so now I’m immune.”
Kristin sighed, but she was smiling.
“I have somewhere else to be, but I can take the evening shift. Give you a break.” He said.
“You don’t have to. Just get some rest.”
“I’m coming in. Evening shift. Be ready to go home.” he insisted, and he booked it before she could tell him no.
Two down. One to go. Ugh, passing out was such a pain.
He took a bus to the hero base. It was almost a mistake, because once he sat down his legs remembered that they didn’t want to work after being unused for an extended time. They’d get over it though. They had to.
He texted the Captain once he sat down.
Blink: I live!
Blink: I can explain
Blink: Be there soon
He needed to be clear on his story before he got there. So far he’d used the ‘coma in a hospital’ excuse, which he could never use on Kristin again since she was supposedly his emergency contact now, and the ‘Shuteye hit me too hard’ excuse on the Blade. The truth would raise too many uncomfortable questions, and he didn’t want to throw the Syndicate under the bus for this one. Not right before he goes into a meeting with them and possibly ends up much more tangled up in their business.
Shuteye had already taken one hit, and really, what was one more? It would be pretty believable for him to get into a scrape with a vigilante, and he’d only be blaming himself. He could even confirm it as Shuteye if they got suspicious and looked into it. Did he want to fight heroes as Shuteye? Eh, not really. But he was pretty familiar with their routes and shifts, it wouldn’t be too hard to avoid them.
Yeah. He could blame it on Shuteye. Dang vigilantes and their meddling. The heroes would totally buy it. He was his own scapegoat.
Shifting the blame to the version of him that was slippery and didn’t have to answer questions directly if he didn’t want to.
By the time he’d arrived at the Hero Base, his mind was made up. No huge, detailed story that could get messy. Just a simple ‘oopsies, a vigilante got me’ and then he’d move on.
He’d barely walked inside before a clipboard was shoved into his hands, and then he was crushed in a hug.
“Blink! Never do that again!” Captain said. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Had a run-in with Shuteye. I’m fine now.” He said, voice muffled. “What’s this?”
“Emergency contact form. Don’t put down another hotline.” She said, pulling away. “What do you mean run in with Shuteye? Are you hurt?”
He swallowed, looking at the form. “Uh, not really. He put me into a really solid sleep though. Just woke up this morning. Sorry I wasn’t able to answer your calls.”
The Captain sighed, sounding frustrated. “Pesky vigilantes. You had me really scared there, and I didn’t have any way of finding out what happened to you. Fill out the form, and seriously this time.” she jabbed a finger at the clipboard. “I mean it. I want a real person who you know and would want to be contacted if there was an emergency.”
Oh, yeah, a real person. Tommy was familiar with them. The city was full of real people. He just . . . didn’t know many of them.
“What if I don’t have anyone?” He asked quietly.
“You don’t?”
He shrugged. “No one that’s close enough to know why I’m not answering my phone.”
“Then put down someone who you’d want making medical decisions if you end up in a coma or something.” She offered a sad smile. “The secret of your identity is only worth so much.”
Sure. Easy.
He took the clipboard with him to his locker, giving himself time to think. Outside of the heroes, Tommy really only knew the phone numbers for three people:
1. His foster mom, Puffy, whose number he knew by heart
2. The Blade’s business number
3.His boss at his other job, Kristin
He’d left Puffy’s life for good, and he was going to keep it that way.
He liked her; she had a heart of gold, and her and her daughter were the closest thing he’d gotten to family after his parents died, but that only made it all worse. He couldn’t go back into foster care, waiting for the Federation to find him in the system. Even without that, he couldn’t bring his multiple lives into her house, and he wouldn’t ever, ever be able to look her in the eye again. Not after Puffy lost her daughter.
Not after Clementine.
He leaned his head against his locker door instead of opening it.
Kristin had told him to put her down as his emergency contact. He probably should. It was just . . . she was his one shot at being normal. No powers, no masks, no life and death, just coffee and the people who drank it. He never wanted Kristin to know about his hero life, but . . . the only other option was the Blade, and while putting him down as an emergency contact would be possibly the funniest thing he could ever do in his life, it would also be very, very stupid.
He looked at the blank spot to fill in his emergency contact’s name and number. No matter whose number he put down, it would be giving away at least one of his identities to someone. A crack in the foundation. A domino set up to fall.
He seriously considered putting down a fake number, or another hotline; but there was a tiny, insistent voice asking if—should there really be an emergency—he wouldn’t want someone to know.
If something did happen, if he died or was close to it, there was a good chance they’d find out his real identity anyway. After all, there was a reason he avoided hospitals. If they looked up something like his dental records, the game was over. Connor had said there wasn’t much he could do about those. They’d at least find Puffy and tell her. Maybe Kristin too, if they found his fake ID.
If something like that happened, that was it. Everyone would find out. Best case, he never ends up in a hospital or police station, and all the Captain finds out is just whoever he puts down as an emergency contact.
So he might as well have something happen on his own terms. Something he could control.
Tommy filled out the form.
With his own carefully built life held precariously in his hands, he took the form to the Captain and handed it over. She read the information he’d put down.
A phone number.
No name.
Relation . . .
“You have an older brother?”
His heart was in his throat. He was, admittedly, going to be the only person who found it even remotely funny. In his defense, he is his own target audience, and he found it hilarious.
The phone number belonged to the Blade.
“We’re not, uh, close.” he tried to imagine how a phone call like that would go. It was too bad he’d never be there for it. “I really don’t want him to know about what I do or anything, so that’s only for life and death situations. Like I said, I don’t have someone for you to call if I’m not answering my phone. I’ll just, uh, try to make sure I don’t . . . get kidnapped again?”
Or end up in a hospital, while he was at it.
He walked out of her office, grinning, and was immediately plowed over by a pair of heroes.
“Blink! What the hell, man?” Undergrowth said, shoving him lightly. “Pick up your phone when I call!”
“Are you okay?” Voidwalker asked. “I thought Cap was gonna bust a couple blood vessels when you didn’t respond to anyone.”
“Sorry.” His grin turned sheepish once again. “I’m fine now. Shuteye just gave me an extra long nap.”
“You ran into Shuteye?” Undergrowth asked, eyes sparkling. “Was he cool?”
Tommy shrugged. Shuteye would sure love to say he was cool, but alas, he wasn’t Shuteye at the moment. “I dunno man, he walks around with a blindfold and doesn’t pull his punches with that sleep stuff. Kinda weird chap if you ask me.”
“His blindfold is so cool.” Undergrowth went on undeterred, much to Tommy’s delight. “I wanna steal it from him just so I can see how it’s made. Like, how does he see with that thing on? I’m guessing some kind of see-through mesh, but that still hinders your vision especially if it’s already dark and—”
“And we’re glad you’re okay.” Voidwalker interrupted. “Hell of a time for it to happen though.”
“Oh yeah!” Undergrowth said. “You’ve been asleep while everything happened. Oh boy did you pick a terrible time.”
“I didn’t exactly pick—”
“We’ve had a bunch of Syndicate sightings.” Voidwalker said. “Like, for the past several nights. They were everywhere, people were reporting them from all over the city, and then they’d be gone without a trace by the time anyone got there.”
“It was crazy!” Undergrowth nodded. “We’ve been running around playing whack-a-mole while also dealing with Cap going all crazy because you went MIA. She was pretty convinced they’d taken you.”
“Ah.” Tommy said numbly. “That’s . . . really wild. I missed out.”
“You really did, man.” Undergrowth shook his head. “If they’re out again tonight, I’m gonna just pick a really tall building and set up a sniper rifle. I’m tired of running.”
“At least tonight will be our last night shift for a while.” Voidwalker said. “Though it’s not like I’ve been getting the best sleep recently anyways.”
Tommy patted Voidwalker on his shoulder with a grin. “Listen, if you’re having a hard time with sleep, I can hook you up. I know a guy now. He’ll have you out for days.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Anything for you big man,” he said, “and hey, if I see him again, I’ll try to snatch his blindfold for you Tubbo. Would serve him right.”
“Really? That would be awesome.” Undergrowth beamed. “Hey, wanna come over to my place tomorrow after we get off patrol? We all need a chill night, and I finally got more than one controller so I can have people over to play games. Mario party is way more fun with more people anyway. Void’s coming. What do you say?”
He had a Syndicate meeting tomorrow, and he didn’t know how long those went. Probably not more than a couple hours, that’s the feeling he got from the Blade’s messages he’d read that morning. And they were meeting pretty early in the evening . . .
“What time do you get off patrol?” he asked. He hadn’t played a video game since . . . wow, since forever. Maybe he should download something on one of his phones. And maybe he should give the Blade a heads up about the heroes being out in force looking for them.
Then again, he’s probably well aware of it already. What a time to agree to another meeting. And so easily, too.
“Seven. And then it would be a bit before we actually got to my place. I can send you the address and let you know what time we’ll be there once patrol is over. If any big emergency happens we’ll probably be a lot later.”
“Yeah. Let me know, I should be able to make it.” Tommy said brightly. If the Syndicate meeting went too long he could always say something came up. He wanted to play mario party. He’d never known enough people who also liked video games to play it with him before.
It was something to look forward to. Something that didn’t come with a sense of life and death hanging in the balance, and something that wasn’t work.
It was nice.
It was almost like he was . . . normal.
For a few hours, at least. And what he wouldn’t give for a few hours of being a normal person . . .
------
When he got back to the coffee shop, Kristin was chatting with someone who looked familiar at the register. Tommy walked closer, his step growing lighter as he recognized the man.
“Tommy, have you met Phil?” Kristin asked.
“Yup,” Tommy responded, hesitating as he got a good look at the guy. He looked like he hadn’t slept. And then maybe did some dumpster diving. “Hello old man, how’s the nursing home?”
Phil groaned and Kristin burst into laughter. Tommy grinned, walking behind the counter.
“Tommy! Phil is my age, are you saying that I’m old too?”
Tommy stopped in front of her, trying to pull a serious face. “Kristin. You’re so much older than him. Clearly you’re an immortal, forever blessed with the beauty of youth.”
“Why thank you Tommy.”
“Don’t waste your time on Phil, he’s only going to age and wither away. He’s got like, three years left in him, tops.”
“I’m literally thirty four.” Phil protested.
Tommy shook his head sadly. “Ancient.”
A customer came in with a kid in tow. Tommy glanced at Phil’s order on the register and pulled out a cup to start it. It seemed like he really hadn’t slept last night, considering the extra shot of espresso in his order. Kristin started helping the new customer. The boy who’d come in with him was watching Tommy make the drink, so Tommy watched him back.
The kid sure did stand out. He had blond hair—like half of the city’s population—and he wore a shirt with an image of a duck on it. He had a yellow jacket tied around his waist, which was almost bright enough to distract Tommy from his intense green eyes.
He wondered if the kid had powers, based entirely on how radioactive his eyes looked when they caught the light.
Phil waited at the counter, so Tommy slid his drink over.
“So . . . how’s school?” Phil asked, picking it up.
“I don’t have school, old man.” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “I graduated.” Flat-out lie, but so was the rest of his fake ID.
“And college?”
His smile faltered. College was a dream he’d never had, mostly because high-school was impossible enough. “No one goes to college anymore.” He shrugged. “Too much money for a piece of paper.”
Phil didn’t seem to buy it, though he kept his words light. “Might be worth trying for some scholarships, you never know. Could get a lucky break.”
What a world that would be.
“Only thing that’s lucky and breaking is this stupid espresso machine. It’s lucky I haven’t got an axe to drive through it.” Tommy grinned, looking over once again to the kid, who seemed invested in their conversation.
The boy nodded seriously, and then said in sign language, “The only solution, clearly.”
Tommy laughed. “See? He understands.”
Phil looked between them, a slightly confused smile on his face. He turned to the kid and slowly moved his hands into the words, “Sorry, I only know a little sign.”
The boy’s face lit up, looking at the two of them. Tommy was glad now that he’d panic-learned as much sign language as he could when he’d first started being Icarus; worried that he’d run into someone who could only sign, and not know what they were saying. “Is that all the sign you know, Phil?” He asked.
“Almost. There’s a few other words.”
“Which ones?” the boy asked.
Straight-faced, Phil signed back, “Pasteurized milk.”
The kid burst into laughter.
“Tommy, could you take care of the hot chocolate?” Kristin asked, ringing up her customer. He nodded, pulling out milk to steam.
Phil drifted back towards Kristin, chatting while she made the other drink. The door opened, and a few more people walked in. Tommy glanced up to see a pretty frazzled-looking man and a little girl practically hiding behind him.
He did a double take at the guy, suddenly recognizing him. They hadn’t ever met personally, but Tommy had looked up the faces of every foster parent and caseworker in the system, and he knew that man was a caseworker.
Tommy snapped his gaze back to the guy who’d come in earlier with the boy, and realized he recognized him too. He was a registered foster parent. The two adults met up, and the kids stared at each other from across the table they’d chosen.
The girl picked at her oversized purple sweater, peeking out from behind long dark curls. Something about her looked soft, but felt sharp. Tommy tried not to stare, most likely this meeting was her being introduced to her foster parent, and that sort of thing was hard enough without some random barista watching. Still, he couldn’t help but see himself in her place.
Confused. Scared. Meeting the strangers who would control his life for the immediate future.
He caught Phil also glancing over at the group.
Introductions were being thrown around, the case worker seemed to be in a hurry, but the kids kept their eyes locked on each other. Tommy set down the hot chocolate, checking the name Kristin had written on the cup, and then looking back at the kids. Something was going on between them, and he didn’t want to interrupt.
Chayanne. That was the boy’s name. He was signing to the girl, who seemed to understand what he was saying. It was surprisingly hard to not eavesdrop with sign language, but Tommy tried to give them their privacy while he waited for a good time to call the boy’s name.
Chayanne looked close to the age he’d been when he’d entered the foster system. Tommy had started growing early, so he hadn’t been quite so small, but it was jarring to see how young he was. Or rather, it was jarring to see how young that age looked, now that he was older.
He found himself hoping that neither of the kids had powers. Their lives were complicated enough.
The girl had signed something, and Chayanne nodded. And that seemed to be that, because the girl glanced up once at her caseworker, and then hesitantly walked over to Chayanne, grabbing his hand and holding it.
“Hot chocolate for Chayanne.” Tommy called, and then he turned around, busying himself with cleaning up. Somehow, he’d ended up blinking back moisture in his eyes. He’d like to hold someone’s hand.
It felt a little stupid to admit. He’d had to say it out loud more than once that day, that he didn’t have anyone in his life who was close. No one who knew him. The real him. All of him. But that was okay, he meant for it to be like that. It was safer. For him, and for everyone else.
For the moment, though, just having a hand to hold seemed better.
He started wiping down the counters, frustrated with himself. At least if something terrible happened to him, he could die knowing that the Blade would be told about it in the most cursed way possible. Not that he’d know that Tommy was Orpheus; but the guy was smart, and if Orpheus mysteriously disappeared when Tommy died, he’d figure it out. In fact, for a few seconds, Tommy let himself daydream a little.
He imagined ending up in the hospital in a terrible shape, maybe he’d been found out and the police were entering the hospital with a warrant for his arrest, maybe someone who works there was a Federation worker dressed as a doctor, coming for him before the police could have a chance. He imagined everything crumbling, every terrible thing he’d ever tried to avoid coming for him, and then . . .
And then he imagined the Blade himself walking in. And the Blade would say “this guy’s with me” and he’d fight anyone who tried to take Tommy. And finally. Finally, someone capable would be there for him.
Tommy stared down at the counter. He knew it was an unrealistic fantasy, but man. It sounded nice.
Really, really nice.
“If you think too hard you might actually have a thought, mate.” Phil’s voice broke through.
Tommy looked up, giving him a weak smile. “Can’t have that. The world’s not ready for me to be capable of conscious thought anymore than it’s ready for you to have another sleepless night. Like, come one man, you look like death. If you don’t sleep tonight I think you might combust and release a deadly plague.”
Phil chuckled at that. “Don’t worry, I plan on sleeping tonight, even if I have to get someone to come over and knock me out to do it.”
“Well if everyone else is busy, let me know.” Tommy said. “I’ve always wanted to knock someone out.”
Phil grinned. “Don’t hold your breath. My friends will probably jump at the chance.”
“You need better friends, Phil.”
“Nah, I’m fine with the ones I’ve got. They keep my life from being boring.”
“Boring isn’t as bad as they make it sound, you know.” Tommy shrugged. “So much easier to catch up on tv shows.”
“And you call me old. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Lost it in my teens like everyone else.”
“Mate.” Phil shook his head, “I think you’re the one who needs better friends.”
“Lost those too.” Tommy said, but with a grin and two finger guns, which made everything way better. “I’ll have you know I’m just that dedicated to the grind.”
“At a coffee shop?”
“Yup. The coffee grind.” He grinned.
Phil groaned. “I walked right into that one. Well Tommy, I’m gonna see myself out after that. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“But Phil, I thought you wanted me to regain my sense of adventure.”
Phil left without a response, which of course meant that Tommy had won that round. He decided to award himself with twenty-three points, because he could, and no one could stop him.
And what was the point of keeping things to himself if he didn’t have some fun with it.