Chapter 3
The next time Tommy saw Wilbur, he walked into the building with two kids.
Tommy was working the counter, so he was the one to greet them. “Ayup, what can I do for you?”
“I just want to talk with the owner.” Wilbur told him.
“Oh. Well, he’s currently out at the moment, but you’re welcome to wait. I’ll flag him down for you when he gets back.” Tommy said.
Wilbur smiled. “Okay.”
“I thought we were going to the park!” One of the kids complained. His face, at least, itched at Tommy’s memory. The other one wore a face mask, so he couldn’t even see half his face. The two must have been around his age, though.
“We are going to the park. Later.” Wilbur said.
“I don’t want to go to the park.” The tall(er than him, he was very upset) one said quietly.
“Yeah, well, you’re boring.” The shorter one frowned. “I’ll go by myself.”
“Tubbo.” The tall one sighed, grabbing his collar as he tried to walk out.
“No, you won’t.” Wilbur told him.
“’Boo! I thought you were on my side!” ‘Tubbo’ whined, trying to loosen his grip.
“I’ll pick you up.” The taller one threatened.
“No you won’t. I’ll stranger-danger you.”
“We’ve been together since birth.” The taller deadpanned. “No one will believe you.”
“Quit it. Sam will kill me if you go out by yourself.” Wilbur said.
“I don’t like you.” Tubbo pouted, crossing his arms. The taller let him go, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, I know.” Wilbur smirked, then turned to Tommy. “Sorry.” He said.
“It’s fine. I’m entertained.” Tommy grinned.
“We don’t need to be babysat.” Tubbo complained.
“Are you sure? Because you’re acting like a toddler.” Wilbur raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not my dad.” Tubbo snarked.
Tommy laughed. “You look uncomfortable.” He told the taller.
“That’s because I am.” He deadpanned.
Tommy heard the back door open. “I’m going to go check the back to see if Mr. Whitlock is back yet.” He said as an excuse. Wilbur nodded, and he stepped away.
“Mr. Whitlock!” He called as he pushed through the door. “A customer wants to talk to you.”
“Really? Now? I just got back.” The irritable old man grumbled, pulling off his coat.
“Yeah, now. Sorry. He’s waiting.” Tommy said.
“Very well.” Mr. Whitlock sighed, following him back out.
Wilbur straightened as he came into view. “Hello, Mr. Whitman, I’m Wilbur Soot. My boss was wondering if we could discuss some matters?”
Mr. Whitman narrowed his eyes, nodding. “You’re the guy, eh? Very well. Follow me.”
Wilbur nodded, pointing at the two that had come with him. “Stay here, please.” He asked, shooting them both looks. Tubbo looked at him stubbornly, but the other just nodded.
As Wilbur turned his back, Tubbo stuck his tongue out at him. Tommy returned to his place behind the counter. “What are you doing with that guy?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We can’t go out without supervision.” Tubbo said mockingly.
“We only just got to America.” The other cut in. “Our… current guardian doesn’t want us getting lost. Or robbed.”
“What could they take off me? I don’t own jack shit.” Tubbo scoffed.
“Your life?” The other suggested.
“I’d like to see someone try.”
“What do you mean, you just got to America? You have an American accent.” Tommy said. The tall one, at least, did. Tubbo’s was British.
“It’s not real. We haven’t actually been to America before.”
“Where did you grow up, then?”
“Russia.” Tubbo told him.
“Woah, can you speak Russian?” Tommy asked.
Tubbo nodded. “Our native language.”
“That’s sick as fuck. What’s up with the different accents, then?”
“The point was to try and fit in.” The tall one sighed. “This one obviously didn’t get the memo.”
“An English accent is way better than a stupid American one.” Tubbo argued.
“I agree!” Tommy nodded.
“We’re trying to not be noticeable! An English accent is very noticeable.”
“I think it’s cool.” Tubbo sniffed.
“It is cool.” Tommy grinned.
“What’s your name?” Tubbo jumped against the counter.
“Tommy.”
“I’m Tubbo.” He grinned. “This dumbass is my brother, Ranboo.”
“Hey!” Ranboo protested.
“You guys are brothers?” Tommy asked.
“Twins, actually.” Tubbo told him.
“Nobody cares. You don’t have to tell literally every person you meet.” Ranboo rolled his eyes.
“I have a brother.” Tommy said.
“Nice.”
“He’s kind of a dick sometimes.”
“Wow, that sounds like someone I know.” Ranboo said, keeping his gaze on Tommy.
“You’re an asshole.” Tubbo scoffed.
The conversation continued until Wilbur came back. “Okay, we can go to the park now.”
“Hell yeah!” Tubbo whooped. Ranboo rolled his eyes. “See you, Tommy!”
Tommy raised an eyebrow, waving as they left. Tubbo waved back eccentrically. Ranboo waved too, but less so.
It was a slow night. Not many criminals were out doing crime. Not many people were out doing much, actually. Dark clouds clouded the sky, and the air held a chill. It was supposed to rain. Tommy had gone out anyway. Rain wouldn’t stop him from it.
He hadn’t gotten any alerts in a while, so he swung around aimlessly for a bit. When his arms strained, he stopped, dropping down onto a rooftop.
He moved to sit on the edge so he could watch the streets below him. He paused as he picked up the sound of breathing, of a human heart beating. He turned, and saw a figure sitting cross-legged on the edge perpendicular to him.
He leaned, trying to see who it was. The figure turned, meeting his gaze with a smirk.
“Uh, hi. I didn’t know this roof was occupied.” Tommy said carefully. It was Hawkeye, but he wasn’t in costume. He didn’t even have his bow, as far as he could tell. He probably had a few knives hidden somewhere, that was how superheroes rolled. Hell, that was how he would roll if he had access to any knives, but his spidey-sense wasn’t going off. He wasn’t in danger of the probably hidden knives, at least not at the moment.
“Roofs aren’t single-person.” Hawkeye told him.
“Oh.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That was an invitation to sit by me.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “As long as you don’t throw me off the roof. I will be very annoyed if you do that.” He said, hopping onto the space beside him.
“I’m tempted.” Hawkeye smirked, running his eyes over the streets below him.
Tommy was silent for a minute, watching just the same as he was. Lights flashed by. The city was never dark. He wasn’t sure he’d been in complete darkness since the last time the power went out.
“I can smell the rain coming.” Hawkeye said, his gaze fixed on an object below.
“Can you?” Tommy asked, taking a deep breath in. Even with his enhanced senses, he couldn’t smell it yet.
“Yeah. I’m sure it would be easier to smell without the mask.” The other said, the corner of his mouth quirking up just slightly.
Tommy scoffed. “Alright, slick. Smooth, but not gonna happen.”
“Damn it.” Hawkeye laughed lightly, straightening and leaning back on the heels of his palms. “That’s a nice suit. It’s almost like the one I saw you in a few months ago. Impressive.”
“Thanks.” Tommy nodded.
“Did you make it?”
“No, I manifested it. Pulled it out of the air.” Tommy said sarcastically. Even then, it didn’t entirely answer the question of whether he specifically had made it.
The other laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, it was just a question.” He said humorously.
“You’re a spy. Nothing’s ever just a question.” Tommy said.
“What would just a question look like, then?” Hawkeye asked him, glancing sideways.
The question caught him off-guard. “Uh- I don’t know. Something that doesn’t reveal too much about my identity.” Tommy said. “Something general. Like, what my favourite colour is.”
“Okay. What’s your favourite colour, then, Spider-Man?” Hawkeye said, smirking.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Uh, it’s, it’s red.” He said, lifting the fabric on his chest slightly.
“Yeah, I figured.” Hawkeye nodded. “What about questions about Spider-Man? Like if you’ve had anything interesting lately?”
Tommy narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out how this could incriminate him. He couldn’t think of anything, as long as he kept his speaking manners as general as possible. “I helped an old lady across the street the other day, and she bought me a churro.” He hummed, hoping the other would mention the Captain.
“That’s… Pretty sick, actually.” Hawkeye said. “I’ve never gotten something like that before. I get thanked, sometimes, but it’s always way after when whatever happened ends up on the news.” He said honestly. “That’s gotta feel good.”
“It does.” Tommy smiled. “I will die for that lady now.”
Hawkeye laughed. “You have it a bit more peaceful in terms of what you do. You’re out a lot more, though. I only have to work when an Avengers-level threat comes up, or if my teammates are being dumbasses. But you’re out here every night, huh?”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. The airport was the first big fight I’ve ever been in.”
“That’s a rough first fight.” The other said.
“Yeah.” Tommy laughed. “It was cool, though.”
“I didn’t get to see you a lot. Cap says you kicked his ass, though.”
“Did he?” Tommy asked, surprised.
“No. But we all know what happened.” Hawkeye grinned. “That thing you did at the end, that was fucky. What was that?”
Tommy shrugged. “I don’t really know. Only figured it out a while ago.”
“It was cool. You brought the whole ship down. Sam said his suit shut down for a minute. Vision felt all fucky. You could do some serious damage if you wanted to.” Hawkeye told him.
“I don’t want to.” Tommy wrinkled his nose. “I don’t even know what it fully does yet.”
“Y’know, we could help you find out.” Hawkeye said. “If you joined us, we could help you. With everything you have going on.”
Tommy scoffed. “And, there’s the point. It’s not happening, man. I’m good right where I am. Mask on, identity kept.” He stood.
“We could negotiate a little bit. To fit what you want to happen.” Hawkeye offered.
“No, I’m good, thanks.” Tommy snarked, then shot a web and took off.
Thunder cracked overhead. Quackity sighed to himself, and made his way back to the Avengers tower as raindrops started falling from the mist above.
Tommy was threading a sewing machine when one of his colleagues approached him. “Some dude at the front is asking for you.” He said.
“For me? Why?” Tommy asked. The other shrugged.
Tommy moved out to the front a little comprehensively. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Wilbur stood at the desk. “They’re getting two special-fabric formal suits, and they want you to do the measurements.” The woman currently working the desk told him.
“Special-fabric?” Tommy echoed questioningly. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It is now.” She shrugged.
“Weird. Well, follow me, then.” Tommy nodded.
He grabbed his tape measure. “Names?” He asked, grabbing two order sheets.
“Tubbo Maximoff.” Tubbo said.
“Ranboo Maximoff.”
Tommy wrote them down, as well as ‘Basic dress suits, custom fabric’. “What kind of custom fabric? What could possibly warrant custom fabric?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tubbo opened his mouth, and Ranboo interrupted. “Water-resistant fabric.” He said coolly.
“Messy children.” Wilbur answered the second question.
“Hey!” Tubbo protested, stepping up as Tommy gestured for him to. Wilbur just snickered.
“Does this happen to be the same event that you’re getting suits for?” Tommy asked.
“Unfortunately.” Tubbo frowned, disgruntled.
“Do you guys work for the same guy?” Tommy asked.
“Well… Basically, yes. It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Wilbur told him. He nodded.
“Is this your only job?” Tubbo asked.
“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, writing some numbers down.
“Your boss seems like kind of a dick.”
“Tubbo! You can’t just say things like that!” Ranboo exclaimed.
“Y’know, for purposes that involve me not getting fired, I can’t agree with you.” Tommy said, holding back a smirk.
He finished Tubbo’s measurements quickly, biting back comments about his height. For Ranboo, he couldn’t quite resist. “Alright, you’re gonna have to help me, lanky man. Hold this.” He said, pushing the end of the tape measure against the back of his neck. Ranboo stuck a finger there, and Tommy extended the tape down to his waist and writing down the number.
“You could have done that by yourself.” Ranboo raised an eyebrow.
“Nuh-uh, you’re like a giant, man.” Tommy shook his head, grinning.
“What school do you go to, Tommy?” Wilbur asked suddenly.
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “That was kind of a stalker-y question, big man.”
“I’m not going to kidnap you. You’re not worth the effort.” Wilbur told him, and he scoffed in offense. “I just want to know what your opinion on your school is. These two need enrolled now that they’re American citizens.”
“Oh. Well, I go to Midtown High. It’s… okay. They get a lot of money from rich kids, so the supplies and technology and sh- stuff is pretty nice. The people, though? Not so much.”
“You go to Midtown?” Wilbur asked.
“Yup.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It’s a little hard to get in. It’s a smart-people school. Or a rich-people school. Which way you got in really depends on who your parents are.” Tommy said.
“These two could handle it.” Wilbur said.
“Uh, no I couldn’t. I barely got my shoes on this morning.” Ranboo said.
“I could handle kicking your ass.” Tubbo snarked.
Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to talk to their guardian about it.”
“Yeah, we’ll show up to bother you at school, Tommy.” Tubbo told him.
Tommy couldn’t resist a small smile. “Oh no, please don’t. I would simply not go to school.” It wouldn’t be so bad to have some people he got along with at school.
“Yeah, well, the law won’t let you, so hah!” Tubbo said, pointing a finger.
“I am the law.” Tommy retorted.
“Nuh-uh. You’re a rule that tells people not to park in spaces between six a.m. and eight p.m., at most.” Tubbo told him.
“Okay, rude.” Tommy scoffed. “You’re a traffic cone, then.”
“Ranboo’s a deer crossing sign.” Tubbo snorted.
“Why deer crossing?” Ranboo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know.” Tubbo shrugged. Neither of the three saw Wilbur smiling, plotting how he could make Sam’s parent instincts kick in the fastest.
When they were done, Tommy gave the papers to one of his colleagues. The three waved to him again as they left, Tubbo shouting something about tracking down Tommy’s phone number as soon as he got a phone.
“Sam!” Tubbo shouted, skipping out of the elevator. “We’re back!”
Sam popped out of a room. “Hi.” He was still startled by how quickly the twins had gone from hating him to liking him. They at the very least tolerated him now, and Sam just wasn’t used to a big grudge like that being gotten over so quickly. “Where’s Wilbur?”
“We ditched him in the city! He got ran over by a taxi!” Tubbo grinned.
“He’s in the kitchen. He got hungry.” Ranboo told him.
Tubbo swiped at his legs with his magic, sending him falling to the ground. He could do that now that Ranboo was healed from when he’d hurt himself by being a dumbass. He threw himself on a couch, burying into it. “We met the kid, Tommy, again.”
Ranboo sat up, rubbing his head. “I hate you.” He groaned.
“You’re whiny.” Tubbo taunted.
“Oh?” Sam prompted him to continue.
“Yeah. He’s really funny. He goes to Midtown High.” Tubbo told him.
“Midtown?” Sam echoed, his interest spiking. “How old is he?”
“Around our age.” Tubbo said.
“I wanted to talk to you about this, too.” Wilbur said, appearing with a plate of orange slices.
Tubbo sat up, eyeing the plate. “I think you have a problem with those, man.” Ranboo sat down, barely giving Tubbo enough time to move his legs as he shrieked.
“We’ve been looking for a school to put those two in, right?” Wilbur said.
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, I think Midtown would be perfect. They’re smart, they don’t need to be put in an average high school. And Tommy goes there. So they’ve already made a friend.”
“I don’t want to go to school, Sam.” Tubbo said.
“Well that’s too bad. You have to. It’s the law.” Sam said.
“You just changed the law! Do it again.”
Sam shook his head, laughing. “Nope, never again.”
“Would it be okay for us there?” Ranboo asked quietly.
“Yeah, I don’t see why not. It’s a nice school. I was kind of already considering it. I can make sure no one gives you trouble.” Sam said.
“Would they let me wear my mask?”
“They don’t have uniforms. I don’t think they can stop you.”
Ranboo nodded. “Do they have art classes and music classes, too? Not just a bunch of science stuff?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. How would we explain how we got there?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Sam told him.
He nodded again. “Alright. I’m down.”
“That was way too easy, boss man. It’s school.” Tubbo said. He pulled one of Wilbur’s orange slices towards him with his magic.
“They have chemistry labs. Really good ones.” Sam said.
Tubbo shot up. “Really? Would they let me blow shit up?”
“Uh… In a controlled environment, maybe.”
“Okay, fine. That’ll make it tolerable.”
“You asked one question, compared to my five.” Ranboo told him.
“Yeah, well, explosions are way cooler than some music classes.” Tubbo snarked. “Not that I don’t like the music classes, but they’re explosions.”
“I’ll look into it.” Sam said. “Tell me more about Tommy.”
“Well, he works at the tailor’s, that’s his only job. His boss is kind of a dick, not gonna lie. He has a brother…”