Through Potions and Books it's still, you isn't it?

Chapter nineteen

It made sense, didn't it?

As Wilbur stepped into the apartment, following his borderline frantic father and more than just grim brother, his eyes immediately fell on the face covering he had seen on the vigilante mere hours ago. There was a bloody handprint on it, the blood still fresh and running down the plastic, leaving long trails. His stomach dropped at that. Surely not.

The brunette had initially not understood how the two had known that Tommy was at his apartment, they hadn't given him a tracker yet and his phone was still inside the backpack that was left in the alleyway. When they had stepped into the bedroom, finding the blonde crying hysterically on the floor with an all too familiar suit lying in front of him, Wilbur understood.

They hadn't given him much of an explanation back then. They had fought some maniac hunting the vigilante and then Theseus had known something he wasn't supposed to, had then destroyed Techno's sword to protect Phil from himself while begging him not to test his theory of abilities working in Limbo through literal suicide (his gut still squirmed at that, how dare they even consider doing that). And then they had told him to get to his brother's apartment as fast as possible.

And now they were here, Phil trying to comfort a hysteric Tommy as Techno crouched down, carefully eyeing the suit on the floor, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

Tommy's distaste for his hero persona made sense now.

He had hurt him, badly so even. A harming potion, bruised calf and he was sure he had inflicted even more injuries before that entire river fiasco. It made sense now why the blonde had flinched around them initially, why he had shied away from any form of physical contact and why he had been that distant, why he had seemed to downright hate them at first.

The bruised cheek had looked dangerously close to a first. It had looked like that because it was just that, someone had likely punched him in the face during his patrols. And that someone was one of them.

He should've realised it sooner, in hindsight, it was so obvious. They'd fight Theseus and the next day find a beaten-up kid with the exact same injuries they had inflicted on the vigilante prior, refusing to give any kind of proper explanation as to how he got them. Techno had thought he was in some kind of gang fight at first, but that idea was quickly shut down after a day of quiet observation from Wilbur's side. Then he spoke up about the powered individual threatening him, granted it was a halfhearted explanation, barely any proper substance to it, but they had bought it. Not even realising that said powered individual was probably one of them.

It suddenly made sense why the teenager had recklessly thrown himself at Corpse husband when he threatened Techno, not an ounce of hesitation behind those eyes.

The painful hissing whenever they had accidentally brushed over a specific part of his back or chest yesterday, the fear in his eyes whenever the vigilante was mentioned, the outright confusion when he finally trusted them some more and the remorse they showed for having hurt the vigilante. Tommy had assumed they hated him, which wasn't entirely untrue, Wilbur still felt conflicted.

They noticed how he yearned for it, for safety, for friends, for family, for people to call his. But he had always shied away, had always been conflicted whenever he was around them, the emotions Wilbur felt during the two times he intervened being evidence of that. He had promised himself not to do it, it was a high invasion of privacy, being able to feel, take over and dictate one's emotions at touch, but the boy had looked so frightened, so conflicted, he couldn't bear the sight.

He didn't know what to think of all this. On the one hand, this was Tommy. The small little gremlin child he adored. On the other hand, this was also Theseus, a dangerously strong vigilante.