Tommyinnit Oneshots (With SBI) (Book 2)

Where Have You Been? (Tommy and Wilbur)(1/?)

Tommy POV

Tommy wasn't sure about a lot of things in life. He wasn't sure about becoming Wilbur's sidekick. He wasn't sure about choosing to wear this irritating mask everyday. And he certainly wasn't sure about being forced to follow Wilbur's orders. But in this moment, he was sure Wilbur was going to kill him. That was assuming his wounds didn't kill him first.

He wasn't sure what fate would be the better of the two.

Stumbling through the darkened streets, another arrow whizzed past his head. They just don't give up, do they? He cursed under his breath, drifting around another corner. He was grateful for the moonlit shadows. At least it saved him the humiliations of the citizens. The Phatom's little sidekick being chased by the same villains he laughed at every moment he could. His reputation would be lost in his own failures.

His lungs screamed for air, causing him to lean against the nearest wall for support. Gulping for oxygen, his eyes traced down to his bloodied clothes. Bruises lined his body, glowing in purple and black. He wished that was the worst of it. Blood leaked from his body one drop at a time. Tracing from stab wounds that came from the flurry of arrows that followed everywhere he went. For once he was grateful for his choice in red clothes. But this red wasn't bright like his favorite color. This red was violent and humiliating. 

A stain he would never be able to get out.

"There he is!"

"After him!"

"Kill him!"

Wanting to smack his head into the wall, he forced his legs forward once more. Ignoring the muggy smell lingering in the streets. The further he traveled, the deeper into the city he went. Gone were the beautiful mansions and perfect rolling hills. Gone were the people showered with gold and lies. Gone was the life he wished for everyday. 

He walked in the streets of crumbling buildings of speckled paint. All around him were the remains of happiness. Broken down playgrounds and rotting doors. Piles of ashes and broken glass. Sometimes he wondered how people could live in this filth. But he knew they were never given a choice. Just like him. Tommy turned his focus away from his glassy eyes. He didn't have time to linger in the past. Not with these stupid arrows shadowing everywhere he went.

He just needed to get far enough away to where he could slip back into his civilian form. Then he could find his way back to their flat. Everything would be fine then.

At least that's what he told himself.

He didn't want to consider the alternative. 

"One step at a time," he whispered. Another arrow struck his shoulder. He cried out, pausing for as long as he could. In and out, in and out. Without another thought, he pulled the arrow out. Tommy screamed even louder, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. In and out, in and out. He spared a glance at his shoulder. The edge of the arrow was still in his shoulder, sinking deeper.

Forward, he needed to move forward. Clinging to the walls, he continued dodging arrows. Just one more alley, he hoped. Then he could blend in.

For once, fate was on his side.

Another slip around a corner and a burst of energy struck him. His legs carried him as far as they could, twisting and turning as much as humanly possible. Once he was far enough, he caught sight of a horrible hiding spot. A dumpster. 

Trying not to think about the horrid smell, he climbed inside. He covered his mouth, ignoring the squishy sounds and grotesque feeling as he climbed over the garbage. Knowing his enemies might check, he crowded a few garbage bags around him. Silent for a moment, he finally allowed himself to catch his breath. But the moment was quickly disrupted.

Footsteps trailed behind him, stomping around. "Where is that little brat?"

"We must have taken a wrong turn!"

"The blood leads here!"

"He's deceiving us."

"The brat ain't that smart," another smirked.

Tommy held his breath as long as he could, desperately praying that luck would be on his side just this once. The lid of the dumpster opened. Tommy's heart pounded louder and louder. Please, please, he begged. Wilbur would kill him if he died like this. A hand brushed through the garbage as the others cried out in disgust. There was a pause and Tommy could swear he felt eyes on him. He held his breath. Please, please.

The moment of satisfaction passed and the lid sealed close once more. Tommy still refused to breathe until he heard their footsteps depart. Only then did he breathe freely. 

Every part of his body ached. And Tommy knew that any hope of leaving this disgusting dumpster was lost. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to stand, let alone climb out and make his way home.

Sighing, the blonde began to close his eyes.

Wilbur was going to kill him.

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