Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Phil remembered the good old days when he went on patrols by himself.

He used to adore the peace and quiet granted to him when he watched the city from above, a glowing mirage of neon lights in the distance and muffled noises of nightlife drifting up to meet him. The Association often sent him out after dusk, enhanced eyesight and hearing giving Phil the edge needed to patrol easier in the dead of night. Plus he was one of the best heroes they had to offer, so it made sense for them to send him out when criminal activity was at its highest.

Peace and quiet was not something Phil had the pleasure of experiencing often anymore, though. Tommy and Wilbur made sure of that.

Still, it was not as if Phil minded the company. It certainly made the boring hours where nothing happened and he was stuck watching civilians go about their lives, oblivious to those keeping them from danger, tick by faster.

Tommy's voice carried over the empty expanse of the roof from where those two were bickering behind Phil, seated on the ledge with his legs dangling over the edge. "Just let me try it once! Once and I'll shut up about it forever, promise."

"You absolutely will not be shutting up about it forever if it works," Wilbur said.

"Well, it's a whole different story if it works, isn't it?!"

"Tommy, have you considered I would rather not lose a limb today? I'd love for all my arms and legs to stay attached, actually."

"But I've been practicing," Tommy insisted.

"He has," Phil agreed over his shoulder. He'd been mentoring Tommy interchangeably with Ponk and Sam.

Wilbur did not sound convinced. "Enough for me to stake my life on it?"

"He hasn't dismembered any dummies in over a week." Phil shrugged with a laugh, sitting up straighter when a blur of motion caught his eyes. His hand curled around his cane. Seconds later, the shrill sound of a siren cut through the dim. "You can either take the risk or be left behind again, mate."

"Seriously?"

But Phil didn't answer, already manifesting his wings. Power swirled along his back, mass coalescing until it formed two feathery black appendages. Phil beat them a few times to get used to the feeling. Even if he summoned them daily, it was always a strange sensation to sprout extra limbs on the fly.

Then he took off, wings carrying him into a dizzying spiral over the city rooftops. He could hear the sharp pop of air pressure changing behind him which told him Tommy had used his powers too, with or without Wilbur. With a grin, Phil dove down to the alley he'd seen the bank robbers disappear into.

He landed in front of the one who had taken the lead, making them stumble back in fear. Barely a second later, Tommy appeared behind the robbers on the other end of the alley. Wilbur was with him, almost immediately falling onto his ass as soon as Tommy let go.

Teleportation had the unintended side effect of making people unsteady on their feet. Tommy - who had been doing it all his life - was used to it. Wilbur wasn't. He still had all his limbs though. None of them were left behind on the roof, which was a real risk if one tried to teleport with somebody else in tow.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I don't suppose this is just an average late night stroll?" Phil asked, eyeing the bags of money these guys were carrying. It was almost comical, something you'd see in a cartoon. There were seven of them total, meaning they were outnumbered but not too badly.

"Shit!" The bag was dropped, in favor of them digging into their pocket. Phil dodged out of the way when a knife was aimed at his stomach.

"Not a fan of small talk?" He twirled his cane, attempting to knock the weapon from their hands, but they were too fast in drawing back. To stay out of its reach Phil flew upwards. He'd rather not be stabbed today, thanks.

From up high, it was easy for him to keep the others in sight too. Neither Wilbur nor Tommy was new to hero work, Phil would not take them patrolling if he wasn't confident those two could handle themselves. They'd been in danger a bit too often for him to not be worried though. Tommy especially had a penchant for biting off more than he could chew.

While Phil watched, the teen teleported out of the way when one guy tried to grab him, instantaneously materializing behind them and delivering a well-aimed kick to the back of their knees that made them buckle. Wilbur had gotten out his baton to deal with his own opponent.

Phil grinned, focusing again on the leader who was still below him. Or he tried to at least, when there was an oompf and next thing he knew the man was sprawled on the ground, a dark shape standing over them.

The shape tilted their head up to grin at him from beneath their full-face mask, currents of long pink hair falling over their shoulder. "Corvid," they greeted.

Tommy turned to them with a scowl. "Blade?! What the fuck are you doing here?" There was clear distaste in his voice.

"Not much, thought I'd just pop by and see if you needed a hand." The vigilante turned around, the sword they borrowed their name from rippled in their grip. Its surface glistened, stray drops of blood sometimes falling from the weapon to splash apart on the ground when its wielder failed to keep its solid form together. Blood bending was a tricky power to master, especially without professional training.

"As you can see, we're doing just fine without your help." Wilbur had a hold on one of the robbers by the collar of their coat, face pushed roughly against the wall and using his other hand to keep their arms locked behind their back.

"Yeah, compared to the first time, you're not doing too bad."

"That was one time!" Tommy yelled. He still hadn't lived down the vigilante saving his life the day they met.

Since that day, Blade seemed to magically show up a lot whenever Phil's team was on the scene. Phil had already considered the vigilante must have put a tracker on one of them, it was almost too coincidental how they kept running into each other. More likely, it was just bad luck.

As heroes it was technically their job to arrest Blade. Crime fighting was a government-regulated business, not something any random asshole with powers was allowed to do. Vigilantes often did more harm than they did good, putting themselves and civilians in danger - or worse.

And while Phil agreed vigilantism wasn't something they could turn a blind eye to…

"Watch out!" A projectile made out of blood cut through the air, missing Tommy's cheek by mere inches before burying itself in the throat of the guy trying to sneak up behind him. "Maybe you should be paying attention to the actual bad guys rather than me, kid."

"I know!" Tommy spat, but turned around to get back into the skirmish.

Phil shook his head, diving back down as well. By the time all the robbers were in cuffs, Blade was long gone.

As usual, they were some of the only people in the library.

Sometimes Phil wondered how this place hadn't gone out of business ages ago. Government funding would do the trick, he supposed. People had traded books for TV screens but there was something much more gratifying to him about actually turning the pages rather than scrolling on a brightly-lit tablet. The smell of a book just couldn't be replaced.

Phil liked to read. He'd been coming here since he was a kid, reading his way through the entire children's section by the time he was ten. Currently he was slowly chipping away at the murder mysteries. If he kept it up, he might even be able to read every single book in the library before he died. Unlikely, but it was a funny thought.

Wilbur and Tommy didn't really share his love for reading, yet they still insisted on joining him. There was another reason besides books which kept them coming back to this place.

"Hullo," Techno greeted them as soon as they entered. He had his feet kicked up on the desk, chair tipped back precariously but impressively balanced on two legs without falling. He lowered the manga he'd been reading to smile at them.

"You're going to fall," Wilbur said.

"Your trust in me is appreciated," Techno drawled, then immediately lost his balance and almost cracked his head open on the library's tile floors. Or he would have if Tommy hadn't teleported behind him to keep him upright.

"Told you so, dickhead," Wilbur said smugly.

"You know it doesn't count when you can literally see the future, right?" Techno said. "That's basically cheating."

Tommy nodded. "You should try playing Monopoly with him, it's awful."

Wilbur smirked at him. "Maybe you should just get good."

"How about you two get good at picking out a book," Phil cut in. Wilbur groaned at him, but Phil wouldn't let it deter him. "Being your mentor also means I'm responsible for your general education, believe it or not. Don't make my life any harder than it needs to be and just pick a damn book."

"I'm literally an adult?" Wilbur said in dismay.

"The Association doesn't care and neither do I," Phil told him. "You're never too old to learn new things."

"Will you help me with my homework after?" Tommy asked Techno, hands still grasping the back of his chair.

"Sure."

While the other two set off deeper into the labyrinth that was this library's bookshelves, Phil lingered up front. He leaned onto the desk, trying to be subtle as he let his eyes wander Techno's frame.

After a few seconds, Techno lowered his manga again. "Can I help you?" There was no true irritation behind it, more amusement if anything.

"No, no, I was just wondering how you were doing," Phil said evasively.

"Phil-"

"The medication isn't helping?" Phil asked, glancing meaningfully at the fingerless gloves Techno was wearing despite being inside. Because of some rare genetic condition, Techno had really bad blood circulation and got cold easily.

"A little." Techno avoided his gaze.

"What about your apartment? Is the landlord still giving you problems?"

Techno frowned. "Phil, It's fine."

"Because if so, there's this flat that's up for rent near us. I can talk to the owner, so you can take a tour."

Techno laughed, but it was hollow and lacking in any humor. "And how do you propose I pay for it? Librarian isn't exactly a six digit profession."

Phil faltered. Yes, hero work paid ridiculously well, but he didn't think the neighborhood they lived in was that upscale, was it? "We'll figure something out."

"I don't need your help," Techno said curtly. Phil knew the man had some weird hangups about pride and accepting aid, but this was just ridiculous.

"Weren't you the one complaining about multiple mold breakouts in your building? And they turned off the heating in the middle of winter? Come on, Techno, that's-"

"How did Wilbur put it? I'm literally an adult," Techno cut in. "Besides, you need to stop being such a worrywart, old man."

"I'm not a worrywart. I just don't want to lose my favorite librarian."

The smile returned to Techno's face. "Ouch. So it's all business?"

Knowing that pushing the issue was only likely to make Techno more closed off, Phil eased up. They could return to this conversation some other time. "Who else is going to give me actually good book recommendations," he joked.

"My taste is immaculate," Techno agreed.

"And I do hope you realize you're the only reason Wilbur and Tommy don't throw a riot whenever I take them here."

Techno coughed, embarrassed suddenly. "I don't know about that."

"I'm serious, Tommy would rather come here every day than go to school."

"I'm pretty sure Tommy would rather spend his afternoons literally anywhere that isn't school."

Phil laughed, stepping back. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"Look at this!" Tommy yelled while running back up to them. Techno didn't even scold him about his atrociously loud volume, which definitely wasn't allowed in a library. Favoritism much?

"Speak of the devil," Phil commented under his breath and heard Techno chuckle.

"It's a book about serial killers." Tommy held up the black and red cover of his find proudly. "It's got pictures of the corpses and shit."

"Whatever gets you to read," Phil said. He had learned a long time ago that this was not the hill he wanted to die on. As long as Tommy got through his mandatory monthly Association wellness check, Phil would call it a day.

He left them to it while he went to peruse the murder mystery aisle. When he came back, Tommy was playing on his Switch and Wilbur and Techno were animatedly discussing some video game or another.

"What happened to making your homework?" Phil asked with a raised brow.

"Already finished it." Tommy held up his worksheets, as if Phil would be able to tell at a glance that they were all correctly filled. "Techno helped me."

"Did he actually help you or did you bribe him into doing it for you?" Phil asked.

Techno looked up at him. "Wow, rude. Do you think I'm that easily bribed?"

"You crumble under peer pressure like a paper bag crumbles when full of water, mate."

Techno made a face that Phil couldn't help but chortle at. Wilbur laughed too, poking him in the side with an elbow.

"Phil has a point, man."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, this is workplace harassment," Techno complained.

He helped them check out their books, but before they left Wilbur spoke up. "Are you off at five today? You could come to our place and have dinner."

Techno straightened his back, fiddling with the sleeves off his sweater and pulling it down over his fingers. "Uh, nah. I don't think that's a good idea."

It was hard not to feel the disappointment coming off both Wilbur and Tommy then. "Why not? We could finally play games together instead of just talking about them all the time."

And Phil could tell how profoundly uncomfortable Techno got about being put on the spot. So he put a hand on Wilbur's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Maybe some other time? I'm sure Techno is very busy."

Techno nodded, grasping the out he'd been offered with both hands. "Yeah, some other time. For sure."

He pretended to go back to his manga after that, but Phil could feel him glancing at their backs while they left.

"It's boring today, isn't it?"

Phil sighed, not turning around. He wouldn't give Blade of all people the satisfaction of knowing they had managed to sneak up on him.

"I'd rather have boring than civilian casualties."

Blade hummed absently. As a vigilante, Phil didn't expect them to agree. But they weren't disagreeing either.

People became vigilantes because they couldn't become heroes. Either because they failed the Association's tests - in which case they weren't cut out for hero work - or because they never took them - in which case they definitely weren't cut out for it. Phil didn't know which category Blade fell in. All he knew was that they were good at what they did, and tried to keep others from getting killed.

Phil knew his duties, but that had to count for something too.

"Where are the other two?" And if Phil didn't know any better he would think he could sense some concern in that tone.

"They're off on their own tonight. If they need help, they got my number on speed dial."

Blade sat down on the ledge next to him. They outstretched their arm with the palm facing upward. There was a cut in the skin there that they never allowed to close so they could summon their blood at will. It kind of made Phil's skin crawl, he didn't know what controlling the flow of your own blood felt like but he couldn't imagine it to be a very pleasant sensation.

Small trickles of it floated up above Blade's palm, slowly forming half-solid shapes.

"You're not even going to try to arrest me?" they asked.

"Don't tempt me."

"Isn't that what the association wants you to do?"

"We want the streets to be safe," Phil said. "I don't care that you're a jerk as long as you're not endangering anybody."

"How generous."

Phil shook his head. They sat in silence for half an hour more, before Blade got up without another word and left.

Phil was livid when he finally entered the library, heart racing. "I have been looking for you two for over an hour!"

An hour of him thinking his boys had been gone - missing. An hour of him worrying that their identity had leaked, some villain could have kidnapped and killed them, or tortured them for information, or-

"We've been here the entire time," Wilbur said innocently.

And there they were, sitting on the floor in the toddler corner of the library. A playmat that displayed an entire city in colorful cartoon drawings was sprawled beneath them, Tommy was currently making exaggerated engine noises while driving a toy car across the painted streets.

If Phil had been any closer to a heart attack, he would be in need of a defibrillator.

"Why the fuck weren't you answering your phone?"

Sheepishly, Wilbur fished it out of his pocket but a push of the button didn't elicit any sort of reaction from the device. "Oh, I think it ran out of battery."

"We came over so Techno could help me with my homework again but we got distracted," Tommy said before launching the toy car at Phil's ankle. It missed by a mile.

"You got distracted… by a toddler playmat?" He was at a loss for words.

"It's my fault," Techno started but Wilbur didn't let him finish.

"Techno wanted to test my accuracy in predicting coin tosses. 100% by the way. Then Tommy bet we couldn't push a car faster than he could make it teleport across the room without touching it, so we had to prove him wrong."

Techno nodded in agreement. "You see Phil, we had no choice."

"You're terrible. Absolute horrible little shits, all three of you." But the heat wasn't in the words when relief made him laugh like a madman. "Aren't you supposed to be doing your job?" he asked Techno.

"Keeping people from tearing down this place is in my job description," Techno said. "I can't leave these two unattended. They're menaces, Phil, you know this."

"And you aren't?"

"I have never been a menace in my life."

Phil sat down. "Whatever, show me the car thing then? I need to see this."

Once again they stayed in the library until closing time.

(Once again, Techno refused their offer to have dinner with them.)

Phil gasped in pain as his body hit the wall, the bricks cracking beneath the force of the collision. Blood welled in his mouth. He fell onto his knees, wiping his hand against his lip to feel the sting from where it had been split. Good, no fractured ribs or pierced lungs then.

Most of the time, what heroes went up against were minor criminals - either with or without powers. Scum that wanted to make a small profit.

Villains who made chaos their sole goal in life were rarer. And about ten times worse to deal with.

"Phil!" Wilbur tried to get to him but found his way barred by a series of red vines that sprang out of the concrete. One of them swiped at him, and it would have surely managed to cleave him in half if it wasn't for Tommy teleporting next to Wilbur and pulling him to the ground.

Bad laughed.

"Aw, isn't that touching." He flexed his fingers, more plants bursting from beneath their feet. "He's not the one you should be worrying about though."

Before Tommy could use his powers again, vines wrapped around his neck. His skull bounced against the pavement as he was pulled down, throat closed off and leaving him gasping for air. Phil tried to get up on swaying feet, cursing at how blurry his vision was.

The vines tried to pin down Wilbur's legs too, but he rolled out of the way quick enough. Pulling one of the throwing knives from his belt, he aimed it at Bad's head. But then, at the last moment changed his mind, launching it towards his feet instead which made Bad look down in confusion.

This meant he didn't notice a fourth person coming out of left field.

When a sword made of blood pierced Bad's chest, he screamed. The remaining vines withered, surging back to fuse together around their owner and form a shield.

"Looks like I came at the right time." Blade landed next to them, pulling Tommy up roughly by his elbow. Tommy shook them off with a scowl, still coughing.

"We had it handled, prick."

Blade turned their head, probably looking amused under the mask. "Sure you did."

"Move! On your left!" Wilbur yelled at them. Bad was already getting up. More vines surged forth moments after Tommy and Blade had gotten out of the danger zone.

Phil's fingers curled around his cane. It was time to end this fucker.

Despite the pain shooting sharply down his ulna with every movement, Phil forced his wings into motion. He took to the air, unclipping his crossbow and taking aim. "Distract him!"

Bad might have been able to snipe him out of the air once, he wasn't going to get lucky a second time. Phil would make sure of it. He evaded every single vine that shot his way, darting around them with practiced agility. His first bolt hit home in the upper part of Bad's thigh. His second inside the man's shoulder blade.

Heroes were not supposed to use excessive lethal force if they could help it. Phil made an exception for assholes that harmed his family.

"Wil!"

Right on cue, Wilbur threw up the rope. He'd tied one end to a fire hydrant, just like they had practiced when inventing this maneuver. Phil caught the other end, diving rapidly to coil the length around Bad's middle. Tommy was already waiting on the ground, taking the rope from Phil as soon as he landed and promptly teleporting back to the fire hydrant.

Bad was flung by the momentum of the rope snapping taunt, launched through the air like a rag doll and landing on the ground with a heavy thud. He stayed there, unmoving.

"Fuck yes!" Tommy cheered. It was always exhilarating when a team effort came together.

But their victory was short-lived. The ground rumbled, Bad pushed up with an enraged cry - the pavement cracked beneath his anger. Phil didn't have time to blink before the air shifted. With renewed intensity the vines shot from the ground. This time, Blade pushed Tommy out of the way themself.

Allowing one of the plants to pierce them through their gut instead.

Phil plunged downward, uncaring when he barreled into Bad knees first, knocking the man back down. This time, he made sure Bad would remain out of commission for a long while with how hard he slammed into the ground.

A hero he might be, but Phil did not feel remorse about hurting those that would hurt him or his loved ones first.

He ran to check up on the others. Wilbur had turned Blade over onto their back, pulling the vine out of their stomach. But the wound that it had left behind was gnarly, blood pouring out of it at a concerning rate.

"Fuck that's-" Wilbur drew back a bit. Then he looked up at Phil, desperately. "What do we do?!"

Phil knew what they should do, which was call for medical backup. But if they did that, Blade would be arrested. Maybe even jailed.

He might not adore the guy, but Phil also didn't have anything against them. Not after they'd basically just thrown themself between Tommy and the thing that had wounded them. That would just be a dick move.

Phil knew the others would agree.

"I can fix it," Blade said, apparently still conscious. They tried to sit up, pushing Wilbur's hands away.

"Wow, hey." Wilbur pushed them down harder. "Don't move, idiot. Or do you want to die?"

"I can heal myself," they bit back.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Blade coughed, Phil could hear more blood splatter against the inside of their mask. Internal bleeding?

"We need to take this off," he said, already reaching forward to undo the clasps. "You need to breathe properly." Despite the situation, the vigilante stiffened before trying to lean away. Wounded as they were, they couldn't do anything though.

"Wait-"

Phil pulled the mask up and away in one motion, then dropped it on the ground. Familiar brown eyes stared back at him.

The world felt like it had stopped turning before him.

"Techno?!"

Chapter Text