TommyInnit's somewhat deadly tea bags

Under my tree can you be safe

Song recommendation: Promise (Laufey); Somethin' Stupid (Frank Sinatra); Lonesome Town (Ricky Nelson) :) Sorry my little biscuits <3 Tommy is protected btw. Plot armor still got to him in time.

Gosh, Tommy was one stupid man, obviously his first instinct was to barge in and save Clementine, so he did exactly that.

Barge in.

Tommy was quick to clamber up to the top of the roof the second he saw two scary looking big buff hunky wet-haired sexy as fuck men which looked like Jacob Elordi copies and looked up, mumbling into the air about their long-lost lover who may or may not be a minor but that doesn't matter in the story.

Anyways, to sum it up, he couldn't just walk through the front door, snatch Clementine from whatever fucked up experiment this was and go on back home...if he still had one...alright back to the café, his new home.

"Shit...", Tommy mumbled as he looked around the roof in search of a hatch of sorts to climb down into the warehouse.

There, in the corner was a small wooden crate covering what looked to be a trap door. Ha. Like Minecraft. Get it. Trapped door. Cause like Minecraft also has a trap door.

He tried to push the crate away and suddenly, he noticed a very crucial detail he hadn't before.

The warehouse was old.

Really old.

Like so old the trap door wasn't safe enough to step on, let alone the roof.

Oh...Tommy was on the trap door.

Shit.

He felt the wood smash under his feet and screamed, his voice modifier making his voice sound raggy from the sudden loud spike in tone.

"AHHH!", he fell hard onto stone, hearing a sickening crack from his wrist as he tried to stop his fall with his hand.

"FUCK!", yelping, Tommy cradled his wrist with his healed hand.

Pain spiked through his veins and he couldn't move his right wrist. It hung at a weird angle that didn't look natural.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard a voice behind him, English, American Accent, of course, just his luck.

"Oh my...? Gosh I thought...ohhh...you are the owner of that feral raccoon thing my team and I found screaming in some sort of back alley?", the man had green clothing on, and his eyebrows were raised with surprise at seeing the vigilante.

Tommy scrambled up and stared at him through his goggles and mask angrily, "Fuck you."

"Now, that is no way to talk to the man who currently has your little pet thingy in his warehouse."

That shut Tommy up, he held his mouth shut and just stared at the man angrily.

"That's more like it, now, I was expecting some sort of idiot hero to come and try to save the endangered animal. Though I suppose this makes things more interesting. Knowing how poor vigilantes usually are, I guess you can't give me any ransom money...", the man had a cane in his hand and spun it around lazily.

Tommy stayed still, glaring and clenching his teeth angrily at the man. He really wanted to sucker-punch him in face and wipe that shit-eating grin off the unknown man's face.

"Yes yes...that would be interesting...seeing a little boy scramble around desperately for some money to save his beloved pet raccoon.", the man was still grinning foul at Tommy. It made his blood boil with heat.

"Or I could simply...force you to watch that little rat die at my hands and then wait for the pathetic people this city calls heroes to save you."

Tommy froze as the man said that his frown deepened, "What do you mean? A hero would never save me. I'm a vigilante and-"