Tommyinnit clinic for supervillains

Chapter 17: dreaming of a better place

"I still don't know how you managed to get stabbed in the foot."

"It was that bitch 404. Fucker's got stupidly good aim."

Tommy snorted as he pressed the gauze against Siren's foot, blood soaking the cotton and making him quickly switch it out for a new handful.

It was just the two of them in the backroom of the cafe tonight. Siren had showed up with a knife sticking out of his boot, and now Tommy was kneeling against the tile floor, trying not to wrinkle his nose as he tried to figure out the best angle to heal Siren's foot from.

"Get better at dodging then, lame ass," Tommy teased, moving the gauze away and placing his hands on the foot. He closed his eyes, feeling warmth pool from his hands as his energy seeped into the wound.

In front of him, he could hear Siren sigh in relief, and by the time Tommy opened his eyes, he saw Siren was slumped against the floor.

"Thank you, Tommy," Siren breathed, looking much more relaxed than he had been a few moments before. "That hurt like a bitch."

"No shit," Tommy huffed, moving his hands away and standing up to wash them off in the sink.

When he turned the sink on, there was a split second where the water pouring out of the faucet looked as though it were blood red. But then Tommy blinked, and it was normal water.

Must've been a trick of the light.

Shaking his head, Tommy washed off his hands, watching Siren's blood trail down the drain in lazy swirls. Then he used a towel to dry them, and moved back to sit next to Siren, who was now leaning against the wall.

"You're such a good kid, Toms," Siren said, smiling at him and reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder.

The gesture felt so familiar. It was something Wilbur would do sometimes when they were chatting. Just a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, with Wilbur's calloused fingertips dragging roughly against his sweater fabric.

Glancing at Siren's hands, he noticed how there were similar callous marks on Siren's fingertips. He gulped.

Tommy shoved away his first thought in favor of wondering if Siren played guitar too.

Stop lying to yourself, a voice in his head suddenly echoed.

Stiffening, Tommy whipped his head around, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. He glanced around the cafe backroom for anyone who could've said that, but only saw Siren giving him a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" Siren asked, cocking his head slightly.

He opened his mouth to reply that yes, he was totally fine. But instead, he found himself hesitating.

There was something off about Siren. Although the twist of his smile was painfully familiar, along with the messy curls that fell over his forehead and the casual way he was still holding onto Tommy's shoulder, something wasn't right.

It was in his voice. His voice changer was still on, but it sounded different than normal. Was it running out of battery?

"Tommy?"

"Sorry, I'm fine," Tommy said, shaking his head and placing his hands on the tile floor to try and ground himself. "Just zoned out for a second."

But he wasn't fine. As he pressed his palms against the floor, he expected to feel the icy tiles jabbing into his skin. Instead, the floor was warm. The floor of the cafe backroom was never warm.

You know who Siren is. Stop pretending you don't, that same voice echoed in his head again.

Tommy frowned. "No I don't. Shut the fuck up," he whispered back.