I'm Not Tired (Please Let Me Sleep)

Chapter two

"Can you go one day, just a single day, without randomly adopting strays?" Techno asked with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

"It's not adoption, you little shit," Phil huffed, eyes still lingering on the stumbling teenager who had just narrowly missed getting hit by a car.

"You're right," the winged villain was about to thank his son for agreeing with him for once when Wilbur continued speaking, essentially cutting him off, "So far it's just stalking."

Phil ignored the cackling and amused huff of his sons and just rolled his eyes, then leaned forwards a little to have a better view of the teenager. They hadn't meant to stop on this particular rooftop. The plan was to get back to the base as fast as possible so as to not attract any unwanted attention and then wait it out, wait for the people of the bank to find the vault untouched from both sides but still empty with no security footage.

Wilbur and he had flown through the sky, occasionally catching a glimpse of Techno who made his way through the shadows of buildings and cars at record speed when he spotted the teenager. At first, it wasn't anything unusual and he tried to brush off the alarm bells ringing in his head as a consequence of being a hero for a decade. Then, the kid got almost hit by a car and didn't even seem phased by the danger and instantly, his attention was caught.

He had signalled Wilbur to land on a rooftop, Techno soon catching up on the fact that they weren't as close behind him anymore as they usually would and soon emerged from the shadows himself, asking why they stopped. Phil had simply shushed them and pointed at the kid who was now standing completely still on the pavement. Well, still wasn't quite the right description, more like not walking but still swaying from side to side. The phone he had been holding priorly was dropped to the floor, laying face down with the display.

They had noticed the kid too, then, crouching down next to Zephyrus and watching for a little before Wilbur asked what the fuck they were doing. Upon explanation, he had scoffed and told him to get over his hero complex to which he reminded them that he was once a hero too and that it's not as easy as simply switching it off. Besides, the kid looked seriously unwell and it was almost three in the morning, way too late for him to be out still. And it wasn't like he wanted to save the kid, more like he just wanted to make sure he was alright.

The kid stood like that for almost five minutes, enough time for Phil to get seriously concerned.

"He could just be high off his mind," Techno said after several minutes of silence, "it's not too unusual for kids to be addicted nowadays."

"Maybe," Phil muttered, watching the kid for just a moment longer before deciding that he wasted enough time watching.

His wings flared out and within seconds he had thrown himself off the roof, gliding towards the kid with the intention of asking if he was alright. Behind him, he heard Wilbur curse and then the sound of wings flapping, indicating that he had followed him. Techno already emerged from a shadow of a street lamp, looking at him with an unimpressed expression. Phil ignored that and landed quietly a bit behind the kid, trying to let his steps make as much sound as possible so as not to scare the kid.

"You alright, mate?" He then asked, coming up behind the kid and waiting for him to turn around.

Only he did not do that, didn't react at all. Phil frowned and briefly looked to his sons who looked bored, Wilbur shrugged. He rounded the boy, a question on the tip of his tongue which was immediately forgotten upon taking a look at the teen.

The almost startling blue eyes were glassy and unfocused, his pupils switching from expanding beyond the natural border and shrinking to pinpricks. There was sweat running down his forehead and his breathing was shallow enough for Phil to almost miss it, mouth slightly agape. A red hood covered his hair but he was pretty sure that the kid had blonde curls. Large, deep blue and purple eyebags painted the skin underneath his eyes, and his face looked shallow, sunken in, in a way.