wipe the blood off your face (it may stain)

All You Need Is Love

It had been three weeks since Fundy Faux died.

If Tommy was being honest, he had no clue how to feel. Obviously it was sad how the man died, but he kept going back and forth between feelings. One second, he'd be numb to it all, the next, he'd be freaking out and having a borderline panic attack when the thoughts got too overwhelming. He had a sneaking suspicion he felt this way because that could happen to him. On the off chance the Heroes did discover who he was, maybe he'd tragically die just like Vulpes.

The SBI knew something was off. The worst part about feeling the grief was that he couldn't even tell them why he was acting so strange. He had to put up an act to pretend like everything was fine in front of them, but he was failing spectacularly.

What's wrong? Wilbur would pester him each day. I know you're not okay. What's wrong?

Techno would look at him with a neutral gaze, as always, but he had gotten to know the Hero well enough to see the concern lingering in his eyes and the slight frown in his lips.

Phil surprisingly didn't mention anything besides a few comments, but he would try to make him take more breaks. He had already gotten more than enough after they found out his age, but the avian insisted more so, his worry clear as day.

Tommy appreciated it. He really did. But he knew that they were just waiting for him to admit what was wrong so they could somehow fix it. Wil made it more obvious that he wanted to know, but the Villain knew that Phil and Techno were just as concerned. They wanted to help him, and the thought did make his heart soar, even if it shouldn't.

Nobody could help heal grief though. Not when it was so recent.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

All of these subtle acts of care and worry, the way they try to help despite not having a clue of what the problem was, made Tommy's attachment so much worse.

It was like watching a preview of a different life he lived. It was like the universe was practically screaming, see? Look how wonderful your life could be. If only you were not a Villain.

The stupidest part of it all, it made Tommy hesitate.

It made Tommy question, what if? What if he just stopped being a Villain? Maybe, finally, he could feel truly comfortable somewhere if he just stopped. Would his family understand, or would he be replacing them?

Would they even understand why he became a Villain in the first place?

He didn't know. He never knew. He just hoped they would get it. And if they didn't, he hoped that somewhere, if there even was a 'somewhere', they would be able to forgive him.

It's this endless suffocating spiral of questions, if whether or not he should give up his goal to get revenge for his family, for Clementine, or possibly getting a chance of being content. A chance for another family.

He wished something could be easy. Just once! Why couldn't anything ever be easy for him? Now he was mourning someone that could be him soon enough, and he didn't know what to do.

Techno was right. He was going to have to tell them about the secret at some point. Because it was eating Tommy alive, and he wasn't sure how long he could go on. It's either telling them or killing them. And as the days went on, it got more difficult to even think of murdering them. He wasn't sure how he would actually put the sword through their heart.

So he was stuck. As always, he was fucking stuck.

"Tommy," Wilbur tore him away from his thoughts, "are you okay?" He asked, a concerned expression written all over his face.