Annihilate

The walk back would be so simple, were it not for the current lack of subway connections between Deo’s apartment in Manhattan and Tommy’s in Queens.

They have to walk to the next station that isn’t on lockdown and go from there, which is surprisingly far away. Tommy wonders if they’re going to find the lizard with his blood still on its claws. He shudders at the thought.

Deo tries to lighten his mood by telling stories from his job. He sells rare antiquities, from what Tommy understands, which is why he’s not in the city for weeks at times. He came across Vulture when he tried buying something that apparently had been stolen goods. They started out as hostiles, apparently, before they became friendlies when Deo stepped back from the deal and let Vulture have whatever it was and give it back to whoever it belonged to.

Tommy lets the story distract him from the pain in his hands. It’s already pitch black out, the sun’s been down since he went into the subway tunnels to meet with Tubbo and Ranboo. They’re walking through streets he’s never been in before, cutting through alleyways that are deserted and unlit. There’s a bad feeling in his gut.

He ignores it. He’s with Deo; when he was barely seven, Deo vowed to keep him safe no matter what. He’s never broken that vow, and he won’t start now.

Tommy’s mind drifts. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do now – he’ll have to be honest with Tubbo at least about the lizard. He is an Osborn, after all; he deserves to know what Oscorp’s doing in their labs even if he refuses to have part in it. His best friend tries to put as much distance between himself and the rest of his family, even Dream.

Maybe he always had an inkling that Oscorp wasn’t really as ethical as they made themselves out to be. Tommy wonders how this will play out for the company. Part of the subway had to go on lockdown, their horrifying human experiment escaped – how are they going to cover this up? Contain it and just act like it’s fine? Pay off any police officers who might see? He wonders if this has happened before. If he was just too blind and uninvolved to look closer before. Is anyone looking closer? Who’s even responsible for what they did to the human that became the lizard?

Do they have family? If Tommy turned into something like that thing, would his family look for him? If he got locked inside some laboratory and experimented on, would they be silenced by Oscorp like they silence everyone else?

Deo doesn’t understand that, of course he doesn’t. But Tommy feels for the lizard and whoever it was once, maybe because he might become something just like it, maybe because he just has an unreasonable amount of empathy even for something that hasn’t been human for fuck knows how long. Even though it tried to kill him, he can’t help but want to bring whoever turned it into this to justice. Who speaks for something that can only roar?

He doesn’t trust Vulture to it for sure. The vigilante is human, with a harness and wings that allow him to get away in and out of trouble swiftly and surely. And he knows his new buddy even less. The Shocker, Tubbo called him. Whack-ass name, if you ask him.

But all that– all those problems subside when he thinks about going home. He still has to say sorry to Wilbur. He might just make him a new sweater or something. Wil loves his crocheted sweaters. But for once, Tommy thinks, he should just talk it out with him. Wilbur was right, after all, he’s usually right about things, and Tommy was just angry at him because he hates it when his brother acts like he’s incapable.

It’s something instinctual. Tommy will die before he admits it, but he has problems with anger. It’s the same spiel every time. Something ticks him off, he lashes out, and then he runs away. He got kicked out of one too many foster homes for his issues with apologizing. But the Minecrafts… they’re different. Something about them is right, he feels it deep in his bones – they’re his family, have been his family for years before they took him in officially and legally. They’re good for him.

He won’t let his problems ruin that. Not this time around. He’ll do better. He has to do better.

Tommy’s spider-sense ticks out.

He flinches, and doesn’t hesitate in following his instincts when they scream at him to turn around. There’s someone behind them, a dark silhouette against the singular street light they’re walking under. Deo follows his line of sight and stops dead in his tracks, taking Tommy by the arm sort of protectively.

“Hey,” Deo says, something warning in his voice. “What are you doing here? I’m not–”

The person pulls out a gun and levels it directly at Tommy. He barely has time to react before they pull the trigger, but he has enough time to simply duck underneath the shot and dodge the second one that follows seconds later.

Wow. Being shot at wasn’t at his bingo for today. Then again, neither was almost getting killed by a lizard.

Deo yanks him to the side and starts running. Tommy sprints after him, overtaking him after a heartbeat.

“Who the fuck was that?” he yells.

“Old acquaintance of mine,” Deo yells back. More gunshots fall, and Tommy barely manages to push Deo out of harm’s way.

“Doesn’t seem like a friendly one!”

Tommy wildly zigzags through the streets, choosing random alleyways. He turns into one and Deo yells, “That’s a dead end!”

Sure, at the end is a high fence. Tommy scales half of it in about two seconds and offers Deo his hand. His friend gapes at him for a moment before taking it, and Tommy grins as he hauls Deo over the fence and hears him yelp in surprise. He throws himself over and lands, elbowing him. “Try to keep up.”

Deo laughs behind him, then suddenly cuts off and says, “Tommy–”

Tommy turns, focus shifting, and has a gun straight to his head. 

Ohhh. Acquaintance has backup. 

Tommy goes cross-eyed on the barrel placed on his forehead and slowly raises his hands.

“Hey!” Deo sharply says behind him. “Kingpin send you?”

“Who else wants you dead?” the– yep, that’s a man, quips. He’s wearing all black, masked sort of like Tommy was, with only his brown eyes free. “Except– oh wait, everyone in the city. There’s a good sum of money on your head, Time.”

What?

“Yeah. On my head. Leave the kid alone, he doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Tommy hits the gun away from his face and kneels the guy in the balls. He makes a painful sound and goes down hard. Whoops. He hopes he already had children, because that might’ve just taken that ability away from him.

“Hey!”

Fucking hell, can he get a break today?

Tommy sighs when he sees the cop rounding into the alley – then his exasperation turns to relief, because it’s Phil.

“Phil!”

“Tommy?” Phil lowers his gun and runs over to them, wide eyes taking in the scene he stumbled into. Then he wraps Tommy in a hug that takes him completely off-guard – they don’t do physical affection like that, not really. Phil is like Techno (or maybe Techno is like Phil), in that they will rather be subtly affectionate. Wilbur is the one with the hugs, usually. It makes his heart hurt a little.

“I was so worried about you, my god. Tubbo called me all frantically and said you were down in the locked subway tunnels– I’ve been looking for you for hours out here– hey, Deo.”

Phil doesn’t like Deo. Tommy only vaguely knows why, something about Wilbur and Deo getting into bad trouble together when they were younger. He can hear it in his tone, the cool leftover disdain.

“I got out before they locked them down,” Tommy lies. “Uh, I lost my phone and my keys. Fell down pretty bad. Deo patched me up and… yeah.”

Phil narrows his eyes at his friend. “Decided to bring my son home through dangerous streets?”

“Ow, man,” the guy that Tommy kicked in the balls whines. He’s still on the ground.

“I outdid them in terms of danger, I think,” Tommy drily says.

Phil shakes his head. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Tommy turns, wants to say goodbye to Deo, who’s wryly smiling at his foster father. Then his spider-sense goes off again, and his stomach drops as he lurches forward, a warning shout on his lips.

The person that chased them in the first place fires their gun.

Deo’s smile drops.

Tommy catches him before he hits the ground, but it’s too late.

Deo’s white shirt is soaking through with blood in two places, one directly above his heart. Tommy knows it somehow, innately knows that he won’t make it.

The person that fired makes a break for it instantly, dipping to where they came from, and Phil makes an aborted move to follow them before choosing to stay with Tommy and call for back-up.

The world runs into abstract. Tommy’s hands are covered in blood in less than a moment as he desperately presses them to Deo’s wounds. He needs more time, he’s begging someone, anyone out there for more time, but in the same moment, he knows he won’t get it.

“Tommy,” Deo mumbles.

“Don’t,” he bites out. “Don’t you dare.”

Deo smiles with blood-stained teeth. “I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Tommy whispers. “You’re… you have to live. What am I gonna do without you?”

“What… what you always do,” his old friend says. “Just do good.”

Tommy thinks he’s run out of tears. He feels like breaking down in sobs, but he’s coming up dry.

“Wh– Deo…”

“Promise me,” Deo whispers. “With great power… comes great responsibility. Promise me you’ll do good.”

He can’t open his mouth. He feels like he’s paralyzed, numb to his core again. Deo’s face contorts in pain, and then his eyes glaze over, and his body goes slack.

Tommy keeps breathing.

Deo’s chest is still, and he keeps breathing.

His oldest friend’s eyes are empty, and Tommy just keeps on breathing.

Phil pulls him up, away from his body. He feels water soaking him through and realizes it’s raining – it’s pouring down, like heaven is weeping where Tommy can’t.

His focus shifts. The guy Tommy kicked is up and backing away, trying to get out of the alley unnoticed. Their eyes meet, electric blue on dark brown, and something in Tommy’s face makes him look panicked. He turns on his heel and runs.

“Tommy–”

He rips his arm out of Phil’s grip and chases after him.

The guy scales a rainwater pipe up a building and takes off across the rooftops, but Tommy slides around the corner and follows right after him. The rain should be making it harder to see, but Tommy can make out every single detail of everything around him. His vision tunnels in on the guy he’s chasing, and he leaps onto the wall, using his hands to pull himself onto the roof and running after him.

From up here, he can see the other one too, waiting on his companion. Gun still in hand.

Tommy jumps over gaps between rooftops, using his hands to stick to walls and kick off them seconds later. The guy drops down to his friend, and they dap each other up.

Oh, he’s gonna fuck them up.

He drops from the rooftops like a shadow, feeling less human and more abomination, and lands on the ground more elegantly than he thought he could. Both of them flinch, and the one that killed Deo instantly aims his gun at him again.

Tommy doesn’t think. He just flips forward, twisting around the bullets and landing on steady feet. He whirls and meets the fucker that ran away with the same roundhouse kick he attacked the lizard with. His shoe crashes into the guy’s face and knocks him out cleanly. He hits the ground and doesn’t get up again.

The guy with the gun tries to shoot him, again, but Tommy is seeing blood red. He hits the gun out of his hand and throws a punch that breaks something in his face, and then he just keeps hitting him. The guy tries to fight back, hands coming up, but Tommy kneels up into his ribs and sends something snapping.

He curls his hands into the black fabric of his shirt and yanks him around, throwing him into the wall. The guy collapses like a house of cards, curling into himself on the ground as Tommy takes a shuddering breath and waits for a singular moment before hauling him up with one hand, balling his hand into a fist again.

His knuckles have broken open, bleeding all over the bandages Deo so carefully wrapped around his hand. The rain still pelting down on them washes it off, leaving only raw wounds. He stares into the terrified eyes of Deo’s murderer, hand shaking, and can only hear his last words over the ringing in his ears.

Promise me you’ll do good.

Tommy drops the guy and he falls to his knees, scrambling back and away from him until his back hits the wall.

“Why’d you do it?” he asks. He feels so numb. So, so numb.

The guy is trembling. Tommy wants to scream, or punch him again.

“Answer me! Why did you kill him?”

“It was a hit, okay?” he yells, fear in his voice. “Someone put a million dollars on his head! Fuck, man, it was nothing personal!”

“It’s personal to me!” Tommy yells back. “He was like a fucking brother to me! And you killed him!”

He turns and hits the wall in frustration. The brick cracks and crumbles under his raw knuckles, and the pain feels almost grounding. He shakes out his hand and turns back to the guy, who’s watching him with wide eyes.

“What the fuck are you?”

“Tell me who put the damn hit on him and why,” Tommy demands. His voice cracks. He wants to go home.

“I don’t know why! I swear I don’t,” the guy says, raising his hands defensively, “it was Osborn! Schlatt Osborn!”

Tommy stares at him.

“What?”

Behind you!

He whirls around and catches the fist of Guy #2 mid-air. Guy #1 goes scrambling for his gun instantly, and Tommy’s mind is tumbling into disarray fast, asking a million questions all at once, trying to figure out why in the fuck Schlatt Osborn would place a hit on Deo Time. How are they even related to each other? So, as he can’t think about that while he’s being shot at, he goes to Plan B: booking it the fuck out of there once again.

His stickiness (he needs a better term for it) is currently his best friend, to be honest. He jumps up the side of the alley and uses a clothing line to swing himself onto a balcony, from where he leaps to the next best rooftop. He hits the ground running and doesn’t stop.

The world blurs into darkness and raindrops around him, the lights of New York shrill and neon in the night. Tommy doesn’t make it very far before he collapses in a side alley and breaks down. The rain washes the blood off his hands, but it doesn’t help get rid of the suffocating grief that crushes his lungs.

Deo is dead.

And Tommy keeps breathing.