Oh phoenix, sing to me a healing symphony, unbroken & true

Chapter 1

Tommy Danger Kraken Innit(which was totally his real name) was just a normal, human civilian who worked two jobs just to get by rent. There was nothing special about him, besides the fact that he had healing powers. Nowadays, any kind of healing was an extremely rare power by itself, let alone wielded by a teenage human.

It's not like it mattered that he could heal illnesses, wounds, and scars, that was totally one hundo percent normal for all other healers to be able to do too... Tommy just had to hide his powers because whenever a healer's magic was revealed, they were bound to be drafted into the hero organization, willingly or not, no matter their age. He didn't want to go b- use his powers for stuck up people like that.

The hero's organization was absolutely fucked. Full of wronguns, he tells you. It's not like villains are a lot better, but as someone who knows a few, they don't act as much as pricks as the heros do. Vigilantes? They were basically heros , but less stuck up. And better at their jobs, in Tommy's opinion.

Tubbo and Ranboo(or Ranboob, as Tommy liked to call him. ), his closest and only friends. They didn't live in the same run down, shitty apartment he does, they lived in the 11th district. 

They were still in the outer district though, so it's not like they were rich and lived in a mansion, but their apartment was four times the size of his, had a real bed, and even working water. The only plumage he had was a toilet and a broken sink with dirty water. The cons of living in the most poor and crime-ridden district, I guess.

———

Tommy woke up with a horribly uncomfortable neck and a sore back. Though he supposed it didn't help much that he'd fallen asleep on the bathroom floor, again, either.

He groaned as he rubbed his eyes, still waking up. He heaved himself off of the tiled floor with the help of the edge of the bathroom sink . He rubbed his eyes again and walked out of the bathroom door. He looked around at his apartment. As shabby and dirty as ever, he guessed. 

 He returned to his bed, or, well.. couch. It was pushed up against the wall. Decently sized, but it was dirty and had stains, specifically blood stains . He looked at the ticking clock above the front door. 

His eyes shot wide and dread began to puddle at his stomach. 3:42pm. It was 3:42 pm. His morning job at the office started at 7:30am. And his afternoon job at Niki's Bakery started in approximately eighteen minutes.

This is it,

He thought.

I'm going to loose both of my jobs and I'll be kicked out of the apartment

He wondered if he could even make it to Niki's at this point. He'd have to take the subway, as he lived in district 15, the most outer district, and the bakery was in district 9, the middle district region. He had to try, it was already 3:45. He quickly dove for his favorite, and only, red and white hoodie that was laid over the side of his couch, hurriedly pulling it over his white T-shirt. 

He twisted around and bolted for the door, aggressively turning the handle and running out. Like the forgetful big man that he is, he forgot to close the door, and only noticed his mistake once he almost got a whiplash with it behind him. He turned around and slammed it shut before turning again and running down the rickety flight of metal stairs.