𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝙰𝚜𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚋 | 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜𝙳𝚞𝚘/𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚛 & 𝚃𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚘 𝙰𝚄

𝚘𝚗𝚎

TW// cussing, talk of accident and loosing a limb, talk of past trauma & being crazy, being called bipolar as an insult mention, explosion, broken glass
I think that's it?

Techno's POV

I walked the halls, tool box in my right hand and my phone in the other. I scrolled through Twitter, glancing up every now and then so I wouldn't bump into anything. I knocked at the room Wilbur, my so-called boss, was in before entering without waiting for an answer.

"What'd you break this time?" I asked as I scanned the room, my eyes landing on Wilbur who was sat in the floor next to his adopted kid, Fundy. Wilbur found Fundy on a rainy night in some sketchy alleyway when he was about eight years old.

"I didn't. His leg has a loose bolt. I just need to borrow a wrench from you." Wilbur replied. Fundy had gotten into some bad accident a year or so ago and lost one of his legs just above his knee; his left one to be exact; so Wilbur had made him a prosthetic one. I don't know what the accident was, because Wilbur just hasn't told me. I am just his mechanic/janitor, so it's not really my business.

"Yeah, sure." I cleared my throat, sitting my toolbox on the table, and opening it, pulling out a wrench, then handing it to Wilbur. Wilbur nodded with a barely visible smile, taking it from me. He tightened the bolt on Fundy's leg in just a few seconds, giving the wrench back to me.

"Need anything else, boss?" I asked. Wilbur shook his head. "K, I'm gonna go mop my break room and I guess dust what needs dusting. I dunno, this place is pretty spotless." I chuckled to myself. What can I say, I'm a pretty great cleaner.

"After you do that you can have the rest of the day off." Wilbur said. "You sure?" I asked. He nodded. "Thanks, boss." I said before leaving the room.

"Go run along, Fundy. I'll be in here if you need anything." I heard Wilbur say from inside the door. "Ok, papa!" Fundy's voice replied. The door then opened behind me and Fundy skipped past me, giving me a toothy grin before disappearing around the corner.

I walked some ways down the clean, white halls until I made it to my little janitor's closet. I opened it with my keys, gabbing my mop and rolling bucket from the inside. I then shut the door and went across the hall to my lovely break room, and began to mop.

Ah, the break room. One of the only non-hectic places in this crazy ass lab. This amazing place is my sanctuary. It's where I eat, drink my coffee, and, well, take breaks.

Not that there's much time for breaks around these parts. With heroes (mainly Crow, which isn't a very name intimidating for a hero) constantly trying to break in, it's hard to get any rest at all. If I'm not kicking hero butts to save Wilbur, I'm cleaning. If I'm not cleaning, I'm fixing. If I'm not fixing, I'm helping babysit Fundy. If I'm not babysitting, I'm saving myself from radioactive fumes and mutant animals that Wilbur accidentally created.

Wilbur is lanky, and not necessarily strong. I wasn't always strong either, but after a couple years of this...interesting job...I've gained some meat to my bones.

Wilbur's a nice guy. When he wants to be, at least. He's pretty normal, aside from his obsession with making new chemicals to mix and all that stuff. He talks to you like a normal person. He laughs with you. He looks normal to anyone who doesn't see him every day.

He has his bad days, though. He can be happy and talkative one day, and then the next day, he doesn't even seem like he's in his own body. He gets shaky and he'll mutter to himself and pace around. God forbid you touch him when he's like this. He acts like you're trying to kill him.

I always make sure Fundy isn't home when Wilbur is like this. I tell Fundy to call a friend and then leave to go meet said friend. Fundy is only eleven, but he's mature. Plus, our town is small and on the outskirts of the city. Not much happens here, so I know he's safe.

I don't know what causes Wilbur to act like this sometimes. I've noticed that whenever it happens, not long before it does, something about pasts will have been mentioned. Maybe in a comic book Fundy is talk about with Wilbur mentioning the characters past/backstory, or on the television. Sometimes they happen when death is mentioned. That's what seems to get him the most.

I'm not one to think drastically, but I think Wilbur has a tad of trauma that makes him flip when certain things are mentioned. But hey, maybe he's just crazy. I've heard a hero call him a "bipolar manic," but I don't think that's the case. That hero's statement, by the way, was instantly shut down by Crow, the one that's always on Wilbur's ass.

I saw it on television. It was an interview with Crow and some other random hero named Duck, which is even more lame than Crow. Duck said something about how it was so difficult to catch Wilbur since there wasn't physical proof they had to show what Wilbur did here.

Apparently, Duck and Wilbur were old friends, now enemies. Wilbur had told me this, it wasn't said on the television. Duck just stated that he knew what Wilbur was like, and that he knew Wilbur did illegal stuff here, and then called Wilbur a bipolar manic that should be locked up forever.

Yeah, I'm not a fan of this Duck guy either.

And another stupid thing about heroes, is that they're rich, and can do whatever the heck they want. They don't need a warrant to come into your home, they just bust right through the wall, and if you can fight them off, they leave. If you can't fight them off, they do whatever the heck they in your own home.

They've already down that to my precious break room twice this month.

When I finished mopping, I left the break room, storing my mop back into the closet. I then went to walk down the hallway to leave, since I was let off early, stopping when I heard glass shatter from inside of the main room where Wilbur keeps all of his liquids and mysterious chemicals.

I exhaled, grabbing my radioactive-safe mop from the closet. How is it safe from being disintegrated? I actually don't know. Wilbur made it for me. Another one of his many secrets, I guess.

I slightly jogged down the hall, entering the room where the glass was heard breaking.

"What did you do, Wilbur?" I asked, pausing when I saw that it actually wasn't Wilbur, but Fundy. He stood stiff next a couple of feet away from a broken bottle on the floor that had some green, thick liquid spilled out of it, and was emitting a small amount of smoke as it burnt a hole in a glove that laid under it.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I left- I left my fox in here when I was in here with papa earlier so I came back to get it, I didn't mean to knock the glass over!" Fundy said, obviously scared I was gonna be mad, even though I wasn't. "Oh, please don't tell papa, he'll be so mad." Fundy flapped his hands, bouncing slightly on his feet nervously.

"I'm not gonna tell him. I'm not mad either. I've cleaned this stuff plenty of times, it's nothing new to me." I said. "You won't?" He asked. "Won't tell a soul." "Oh my- thank you, Mister Blade." He exhaled in relief. "Again, just call me Techno, but your welcome."

Fundy nodded, shifting on his feet as I cleaned up the spilled...contents...and picked up the broken glass and seared glove, dumping them into a nearby bin.

"There. As if nothing even happened." I said. Fundy smiled. He looked like he was going to thank me again, when there was a loud boom that caused the building to shake. "W-What was that?" Fundy asked, nervous.

"Ah, heckin'-" I cut myself off before saying something I shouldn't in front of an innocent eleven year old, "Fundy, go to your room and hide in the room under your closet floor. That the safe at place in this building." I said. "What- What about you and papa?" He asked. "I'll be fine, he'll be fine. Just go, I don't need your dad blaming me if something happens to you."

Fundy hesitantly nodded, leaving the room in front of me. We went down opposite ends of the hallway, him towards his room, and me towards the sound of the explosion.

Words: 1,505