Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tommy was born with bloodied knuckles.

He doesn’t remember a time he hasn’t fought, teeth gnashing and a knife in hand. Messy punches paired with a messy teenager; a mop of gold-blond hair and eyes such an electrifying blue, he prides himself on that being the only thing the wanted pictures got right.

Tommy remembers the first time he saw them, hood pulled over his head as he slipped between the crowded road in a tiny town. He’d seen it briefly on the town’s bulletin board. Generally speaking, he’d check them. Sometimes they had odd jobs, but what Tommy often looked for was mercenary roles now-a-days. 

He scanned it quickly, hand tapping impatiently at his side as nerves flowed through him and he tried to shake them away.

In the center of the board, pinned to the wood with a nail, was a fresh piece of parchment.

A rich blue wax seal, imprinted on the bottom corner marking it authentically from the royal guard of the Arctic Empire. Tommy thought they were wankers. He’s not surprised they think he’s one too.

It was an inky drawing of him, shoulders up. A deep red ink painting his cloak, wisps of hair covering his forehead, although Tommy notes the colour as brown instead of blond. It didn’t look like him, in his opinion. His face was too sharp in all the wrong places and too soft in all the others, but the eyes.

The eyes were him, and the name printed underneath his image sealed his fate. Tommy ripped the parchment off the board, quickly tucking a hand underneath the same dark red cloak that now felt scratchy against his skin like it was shining a spotlight on him.

Dead or Alive, the poster had read.

Prime, how Tommy wishes it was dead.

He’s young for the amount of experience he has.

 His parents had left him at an adventurers guild when he’d been born which didn’t exactly offer the most stable parental figures he could have had. He’d started taking jobs young, small at first. Then bigger. He’d stolen jewels and treaties, taken ransoms and killed for less. 

Always enough to float by. He’d run whenever a city had figured out that the increased crime rate had one very illusive person behind it all. Then he’d repeat it all at the next place. His wings would carry him, fast as the wind, as he left a trail of disaster in his wake.

It wasn’t hard. Tommy liked being a ghost. He’d been one his whole life.

Today, when Tommy wakes up it marks six months of being seen. Six months without flying. 

Six months since he’d taken his riskiest job of all. Killing King Philza of the Arctic Empire.

Most people trap a wild bird and throw it into a pretty gilded cage for the rest of their life. Tommy thinks, as the arctic air turns his fingers blue and bites so painfully against his skin it feels raw, that there is nothing beautiful about this.

Tommy’s been to prison before. He was thirteen the first time. Fifteen the second and third time, and now seventeen. This wasn’t a prison. This was hell.

This was working in the coldest place in the entire Essempi, wrapped up in a big fat bow. Tommy was meant to be executed when he was caught. Then they decided the best place to keep someone who had a track record like Tommy’s would be a place widely known as The Pit. They were right because he’d tried booking it barely two weeks later.

It wasn’t really a pit, it just felt that way. Huge jagged icicles lined the prison like enormous stalagmites, a makeshift fence that was as deadly and frozen as everything else in this place. There was one opening that led in and out and Tommy’s seen inmates shot down for even looking at it for too long.

He doesn’t understand why he’s different.

“Move it,” A rough voice calls and Tommy would snap at him if he wasn’t trying to save his energy. The cuffs clamping onto his wings and around his ankles were something he’d never get used to. Not now, now ever. He stumbles despite the six months of practice he’s had walking with them on. The chain drags through the snow, slowing him down, and Tommy’s wings have been numb for a long time now. 

What he once considered to be an asset– a gift and one of the few things that he’ll ever have connecting him to his parents– they were a burden. 

The clamps were bruising and offered a constant ache. His feathers were dirty and ragged, itching and breaking off whenever someone hit or pulled at them. The worst part was the weight. That constant dragging feeling which was so unforgivably wrong but he was powerless to stop.

Tommy doesn’t mention it as he’s led towards the center of the camp. He frowns as he’s taken past his usual work station.

“Where are we going?” Tommy risks the question, staring out at the weathered path ahead. Mud slushied with snow from all the foot traffic that comes through this way. The guard guiding him doesn’t respond and Tommy’s stomach twists nauseously.

Was this it? Were they finally going to kill him?
There’s a little spark of triumph at the knowledge. Most people didn’t last the week, the people who actually stayed here that is. They liked to bring in people just for the day as a final warning. You could be the absolute scum of the earth in any other Arctic Empire prison and the guards could leave you here for a day and you’d come out on your best behaviour.

Tommy was never given that option.

He’s not sure if they’d forgotten about him. He’d thought, after a few months and somehow still found himself breathing, that surely they must think he’s dead by now.

Tommy was due to be executed, then there was what he thought was meant to be a trip to The Pit, a following failed escape and this as the resulting punishment since. He hasn’t stopped questioning if this in itself was meant to be the execution or the punishment prior to it.

Tommy never wanted to give them the joy of breaking him. 

Marching through the center of the camp, mud splashing over his boots and torn pants as they approach the huge gate of the camp, there’s a sense of victory in Tommy’s glare that is stronger than it has been in a long time.

At the gate, Tommy tries to hide his surprise at the herd of armoured horses, each with armored guards atop them, marched in a line both in front and behind of a blue and silver plated carriage.

He grunts as the guard shoves him again, the guard stepping on his wing. Tommy winces as a few feathers break loose from the force and he grits his teeth as he’s forced along to the side of the carriage. He waits with bated breath, eyebrows drawn together. He’s been shaking from the cold for so long that he doesn’t process that he probably looks ridiculous, trembling and turning blue, until he sees a few of the armoured guards break from their stance to rub their gloved hands together.

Oh, are you assholes cold in your winter gloves and jackets pressed underneath your armour?

Since he’s dying today, Tommy even opens his mouth to smart-talk the fuckers when the door to the carriage makes a loud grinding noise, almost mechanical in nature, and swings open.

A set of varnished wooden stairs drop down, followed by a heavy, black winter boot. Tommy looks up at the man, steeling his nerves.

It’s a bit hard looking at your future killer, but hey, he tries.

The man steps out, white and blue uniform with the Arctic Empire crest on his shirt and an absurd dark blue half-cape, half-cloak covering his shoulders and clasped together at the front with a silver badge. 

Tommy grimaces when a guard shoves him onto his knees in the snow, the cold soaking into him unforgivingly. He doesn’t quite realise who it is he’s looking at until he sees the pink hair.

“Oh, Techno! Long time, no see.” Tommy drawls, forcing a toothy smile from the ground and Techno nearly flinches when he speaks. Techno’s head is tilted as he takes in his appearance and Tommy hides the flicker of annoyance on his face as the man towers over him, “I think you’ve shrunk since you last arrested me.”

“Hello Theseus.” Techno responds, landing in the snow with a crunch as he emerges from the carriage. “You look good.”

Tommy laughs sharply and as grating as it sounds coming out of his mouth, it’s a genuine laugh because it’s the first remotely funny thing anyone’s said to him in a while. Techno continues watching him and Tommy hates how he can’t tell what he’s thinking. His eyes are scanning and he knows there’s a thousand thoughts going on behind it all but it’s impossible to read any of them. 

Tommy grimaces at the lack of success at reading Techno and instead waves to the dark blue and silver carriage, “What’s with the circus?”

Techno shrugs. “Here to pick up a clown, it only seemed fitting.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, bristling. He points half-heartedly to the rows of armored guards on either side of them. “Lotta guards for a Captain of the Royal Guard. You bad at fighting for yourself or something?” Techno doesn’t look amused, instead following where Tommy was pointing back to his men. Tommy doubles down on his snide remarks and calls out, “Hey! Don’t you guys have something better to do like pull cats out of trees?”

“Enough!” The guard behind him barks and there’s a loud wooshing as a staff swings up to strike him. Tommy flinches into himself, hands moving swiftly up to cover his head and face. There’s a loud metallic clang above his head, ringing in his ears.

“Don’t.” Techno warns, voice dangerous, and Tommy opens his eyes cautiously to see Techno’s sword hovering over Tommy’s shoulder, protecting him from the guard’s staff that had just swung down to hit him.

The guard's expression flickers and he pulls his staff back. Tommy’s still frowning in confusion, looking back over his shoulder at the guard when a hand clamps around his arm and drags him to his feet.

“Oh, Prime!” Tommy curses as he’s pulled up suddenly, stumbling to catch himself. 

Techno lets go of him once he’s got his footing, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it off to the guard.

The guard cracks the wax seal, unravelling the paper and Techno turns towards Tommy, giving him a careful shove towards the carriage.

“Come on, Theseus.”

Tommy rips himself away from Techno’s touch so fast, it looks like he’s been burnt. “Don’t you dare fucking call me that.”

They lock eyes and he hesitates, not quite a battle of wills but more a struggle to understand the other.

 Ultimately, Tommy isn’t going to spend another second in this shithole if he can help it, and he slowly follows Techno towards the carriage in silence. 

Tommy steps one foot up onto the wooden steps, legs shaking with the effort and Techno silently offers an arm. He keeps struggling for a few painstaking moments, his balance embarrassingly bad from being mistreated for so long, and accepts Techno’s help with a scowl.

The inside of the carriage was plush, two pillowed long seats on either side, a small table that connects to the wall which operates on a hinge so it can either be pulled up or down depending on if it was needed or not. Tommy looks around in awe at the dark blue material lining the inside, the varnished dark wooden floor and lantern dangling from the ceiling, and gives a silent breath of relief that there’s enough space his wings won’t be painfully squished.

Techno heaves himself in soon after, shutting the door to the carriage behind him with a loud thump and rubbing the snow off his shoulders. He shifts and takes a seat across from Tommy, immediately making the space feel just that little bit tighter when it’s being shared. Techno smacks the side of his fist against the wall twice and the carriage soon after lurches into motion.

“So I’m like super dead, right?” Tommy asks, breaking the silence.

“Excuse you?” Techno responds, looking over at Tommy. Tommy tugs absently at the skin around his nails.

“What was that piece of paper you gave to the guard back there?”

“It was a release form, signing you into the custody of the Royal guard.” Techno adds with a far too casual shrug. “For now.”

“Oh, joy.” Tommy deadpans.

“I’d argue it’s an upgrade.” 

“Anything’s an upgrade from that shithole.” Now this was what he called going out with style. 

Tommy leans forward, resting his weight on his elbows to give his wings space. It was far warmer here, a small thing that makes him so thankful he feels like crying, and having a cushioned seat is a luxury he missed dearly. The heat reminded him of all his aches and bruises he’d ignored thanks to the numbing effect of the cold, but now it was noticeable. For the most part, Tommy relishes in the calm before the storm. The small slither of comfort before he’s brought to the knife and killed. He’s far too happy for a dead man.

It only takes a few moments before he realises Techno’s eyes keep darting to and from Tommy like he can’t decide where to look.

After he’s noticed it, it really starts to piss him off. When it happens a fifth time in the first ten minutes of the trip Tommy glares at him.

Techno blinks in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“You keep looking at me like you can’t decide if I’m a wounded dog or an angry one.” Tommy stabs a finger at the man. “I’ll give you a tip; they both wouldn’t hesitate to fucking bite.”

Techno watches Tommy thoughtfully, then he tears his eyes away and reaches into his pocket. “Turn around.”

“Fuck you.”

“I can’t stand looking at those clamps on your wings.” Techno pulls a set of keys out and makes a twirling motion with his hand, ushering Tommy to shift.

He stares at the man apprehensively, his guard shooting way up. 

“You’re taking them off?” Tommy asks, confused, looking around at Techno’s side of the carriage for any secret cuffs or somehow something that’ll hurt even more. He didn’t understand what kind of trick was being played and that was maybe the scariest part of all of this.

“They’re supposed to be outlawed.” Techno says, gritting his teeth slightly.

Tommy starts to turn in his seat and when a hand grabs his wing without any form of warning, a little too sudden and sore, he whips around fearfully. Adrenaline sends him on his feet in a heartbeat, nearly hitting his head, arm shoving out protectively. He instinctively moves to press the side of his forearm against the man’s neck but Techno’s well prepared and catches Tommy’s hand.

“Stop.” Tommy breathes, not quite in his own body. 

“You’re fine.” Techno says, strangely soft and Tommy trembles, chest heaving with effort. His eyes are blown wide as he stares at Techno, a hundred different painful memories of rough hands grabbing his wings, yanking and kicking and striking. He wonders for the briefest flicker of a moment what punishment this lash out will result in as well and then Techno repeats, “You’re fine, Theseus.” and Tommy blinks hard and pulls himself away.

 He stares for a few seconds. Techno slowly lets go of the arm he caught, dropping it. No punishment comes. Of course it doesn’t, why would Techno need to when he’s taking him in to be killed anyway?

 Tommy wobbles and sits back down, eyes glued to Techno who looks strangely apologetic for a guy who just got attacked. 

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Tommy quickly looks Techno over once more as he tries to calm his rapidly beating heart. It’s feels like there’s a woodpecker in his chest as he turns, swallowing hard. None of this made any sense. That’s what pissed Tommy off the most. He was being taken to his death, why the hell was Techno being nice to him? A final act of kindness after six months of torture? Is that what this was?

“That’s all we have on all our official records.” Techno replies, raising the key up again. Tommy tenses as he starts reaching out. “Left wing,” Techno warns and Tommy’s silently grateful.

 He first touches the bottom of the clamp, relieving some of the pressure and Tommy would be lying entirely if he said he wasn’t wincing, eyes squeezed shut. Techno takes the key in his other hand and the metal clamp, the thing that had been crushing his wing in a cramped shut position for so long, is finally gone. 

“Tommy.” He mutters and then hisses, jaw clenched in pain, as Techno grabs the clamp, pulling the heavy metal away and places it on the floor by his foot. They’re grimy and scraped looking things, blood rusting onto the outside in a way that makes Tommy feel ill.

“Better, Tommy?” Techno asks, leaning back and Tommy’s wings have never felt so weightless. He nods a little bit, pulling a face at how unbelievably painful it is trying to move either of them even an inch. His left wing felt stuck in the position it had been clamped in and his right wing, upon the clamp coming off, had effectively fallen down like a blanket hanging off his shoulder instead of an actual part of his body.

He’s beyond grateful for it, but it’s agonising. He doesn’t want Techno to know that though, so he stays silent, teeth gritted and eyes watering. He doesn’t say anything to Techno for a majority of the ride, instead opting to stare out the tiny sliver of a window on the door until he starts to see what he recognises to be the capital.

It would be a lie to say the thought of running doesn’t cross his mind. His wings were a liability and his body was weak in more ways than one. It was a matter of what he was willing to risk. If he was caught, how likely would he be to get sent back to The Pit? Tommy thinks it’s better to die with grace, unbroken and a middle finger held high, then it is to be sent back and torn down until he passes away quietly in the night or violently to the hands of someone else.

They enter through the palace gates into a large circular courtyard. When the carriage finally stops, Techno opens the door and climbs out first.

“Good to be back.” Tommy grins as he stands, this time accepting Techno’s help getting out without any glares. The open winter air hits them with a blast and Tommy feels it bruising the raw skin where the clamp had sat on his wings. He tries to stretch them out, heart dropping when pain throbs through his left wing at any kind of twitch and his right wing hurts so painfully bad he can’t even pull it up into a resting position. It just drags behind him, the dulled browning red a pale comparison of his usual bright reds like that of a macaw.

A crow perched on top of one of the castle walls caws loudly at him before taking off and Tommy feels that nauseous tug in his stomach again.

He tries to pretend like it doesn’t bother him, ignoring it in favour of letting Techno mindlessly guide him into the palace and down a hallway. The architecture is impressive. Large white columns and dark wood flooring and accents. The walls were blue, white arches marking the entrances and lining the bottom half.

Tommy’s trying to busy his mind on anything else other than what’s happening at the moment. 

He keeps the illusion up right until Techno clears his throat and shoves a massive set of double doors open, walking behind Tommy into a huge throne room. There was just King Philza’s throne at the top, a desk and chair to the side and a little lower down where he assumes Techno must sit. Otherwise, the room was open plan, a long dark blue carpet guiding up to the throne through the middle of the room, carved pillars lining either side of them, and several doorways lining the walls on both sides.

“King Philza,” Techno announces and Tommy eyes the blond man in the throne, crown on his head bejewelled with emeralds, hair tucked out of his face and a pale blue half-cloak, half-cape similar to Techno’s on his shoulders, covering up some light armour and dark brown winter boots. “Introducing Theseus, known criminal and recent prisoner, hailing from the West.”

“No last name?” The King muses, looking at Techno. He had a softness to his voice, one that Tommy had only ever heard when people spoke to him in pity or condescension.

Techno shrugs innocently. “I only learnt he prefers the name Tommy.”

“Tommy.” The King says, eyes locking with his. Techno glances over at him and then coughs awkwardly, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, pushing him onto one knee. It might be common sense, but it wasn’t a respect he was going to show willingly. King Philza didn’t seem to mind, looking a little sad. 

When Tommy kneels, the King’s eyes dart to Tommy’s wings and there’s a flash of horror and anger that he doesn’t quite understand. The King’s wings ruffle, inky black feathers a stark contrast to the white interior of the castle.

“What happened to your wings?”

Tommy hesitates, his mouth suddenly dry. It’s a simple question, but the answer makes his stomach churn fearfully.

He was a dead man. He knows this as a fact. He doesn’t want to dance around the topic. Doesn’t want to play the villain they desire, the warning story they can give to others who do the King wrong.

Instead, Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. He straightens his back, he looks at the king and makes sure all the anger he’s been harbouring for the last six months is clear in his eyes as he speaks, and he makes sure to say it all loud enough that even if he’s cut off the fuckers will know what he’s said.

“I know what I did. I know that your men at the Pit believe their punishment was fitting for the crime. I also know that I’m not sorry. If you’re looking for a warning tale or an apology, you’re not fucking getting one. I’m not sorry for trying, I’m sorry for failing. I tried to kill you because I needed the money and I’d do it again for the right price.” Tommy moves to stand and he sees Techno surge forward. 

He’s prepared to stand his ground but the King raises a hand stopping Techno so he continues, “Look, you wanna dump me in the next hellhole for another six months, you can fucking go for it, coward. Prime knows I begged for any kind of reprieve these last six months and it never came. 

“You want the truth, your Majesty? You wanna hear my thoughts before you cut my throat? I think; fuck you. I think; get off your pedestal and take the silver spoon out of your mouth and do it yourself. I think; cut the shit. Skip to the part where you order my execution, I call you a bitch, and you kill me now instead.”

There’s a tension so thick inside the room you could run your hand along it and it wouldn’t break. 

King Philza clears his throat and it’s not hesitance shining in his eyes but something else entirely. “You’re not here to die, Tommy.”

Tommy laughs, bitter and sour at the speechless expression on their faces. There’s a beat. One. Two. Nobody says anything so he waves wildly, throwing his hands up. “Then what?”

“I’d like you to work for me.”

He’d laugh if it wasn’t for the deadpan expression on the King’s face. Tommy blinks. He stares up at the man. He looks over to Techno, who’s unsurprised, and his brows draw together.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tommy says bluntly and King Philza smiles. The gears in Tommy’s brain turn and turn and nothing seems to click because what on Earth possessed them to put any sort of trust in him?

What the fuck was wrong with this kingdom?

It’s Tommy’s turn to be speechless. To stare blankly as the cogs in his head churn to try and figure out what kind of game is being played against him. King Philza turns to a guard a little off to the side, one that Tommy hadn’t even noticed until now, and clicks his finger. The guard turns mechanically, another gear in the machine, and takes out a piece of paper. He hands it to the king, who opens it slowly.

“What is that?” Tommy asks pointedly.

“It’s a statement from one of the guards who worked the night you attempted an escape from the Pit.”

Tommy’s stomach rolls, throat tightening. 

“Do you know how many people you killed?” Philza asks.

“They were barely people.” Tommy answers, anger creeping into his voice. 

“Many of the guards had families.” Philza replies simply. His face heats in anger and he shakes his head.

“Who gives a fuck about family?” Tommy spits, chains rattling angrily at his feet. “C’mon asshole, they were killing people out there. Even wolves keep packs”

“Twenty.” Philza reads, eyes moving slowly from the paper in his hand to Tommy. “You’d been there for two weeks at that stage. What you did…”

“They deserved it.” Tommy grits out. He remembers the cold that night. He wasn’t used to it yet. He was certain that would be what killed him.

“You made it through the camp and out the gate.” 

“Like it’s hard.”

“It is. You’re the only one who’s almost escaped.” Philza continues, “Sixteen dead at that point, mate. You raced blindly through the snow for hours and made it to a small township. You killed four of the men who were a part of the team trying to take you back.”

Tommy remembers it all. He remembers the blood streaking his hands, the throbbing pain in his ankle and how the weather was too unforgiving to fly through for any longer than a couple minutes at a time. He remembers how it started. How one guard tried to clamp his wings and Tommy had ripped the clamp from his hands and swung it at his head instead. How every move and action following that had been a desperate frenzy for escape. No rhyme or rhythm, just a suffocating fear that pushed him further and further.

“Of everyone who died, not a single one was a civilian from the town or a prisoner from a camp. I have no reports or records of you showing any kind of violence prior to this outburst.”

“What the fuck is your point?” Tommy’s hand shakes by his side, fist clenched tightly. Philza takes the paper and folds it, placing it on his lap.

“I find it interesting that you only attacked my guards. You were only caught because you kept those civilians alive.”

“Maybe I hadn’t got around to it yet.” Tommy’s voice shakes.

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s some good in you after all.” The words feel like a challenge even though Tommy knows they’re not. “Most people would do anything if failure meant execution. Why didn’t you?”

“I kill for a price or survival, not sport.” Tommy grimaces. 

“I’m offering you a job that helps with both. We’ll keep you alive, under the protection of the Royal Court of the Arctic Empire. We’ve tried looking into your past Tommy. Toms, Theo, Theseus, it depends on the place. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same, isn’t it, mate? You’re a liar, a runner, and most evidently a survivor.”

“Half your fucking kingdom wants me dead.” Tommy splutters, eyebrows drawn so tight he can feel the pressure like a subtle ache. “Working for you is just as much a death sentence as the Pit.”

The King leans back in his chair, feathers ruffling in frustration. He shoots Tommy a harsh look. “I’ve had four offers asking me to hand you over to various kingdoms. They want justice.”

“And you want, what? A worker?”

“I want protection.” Philza shrugs. “I’ve been given some hefty offers for handing you over to neighbouring kingdoms. But I know talent when I see it and I know desperation just as well.”

Tommy’s skill crawls uncomfortably as the King reads straight through him so casually. 

“I want you to be honest with me, Tommy.” Philza says, voice softening. Tommy glares back, bile building in his throat. Philza absently twists the emerald earring in his ear, watching Tommy cautiously. “If I let you go right now, would you go back to taking the same jobs you were before?”

There’s a short pause before Tommy mutters an acknowledgement, “It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“Can’t be that good, you failed.” Techno murmurs and Tommy glares daggers.

“I’m good at assassinating, asshole. I’m just not great at the escaping bit that comes after.”

“Tommy, I’m offering you a choice.” Philza says suddenly, cutting in. “I don’t want to execute you. I know you’ve lied to us about a number of things. Your name, your age, your home. I think though, buried underneath this entire disaster, is someone who deserves a second chance.”

“You don’t know I won’t betray you.” Tommy croaks, tongue like rubber in his mouth. “You don’t fucking know anything about me.”

It’s like Philza is looking straight through his shields when he speaks, voice careful and head tilted. “Of course I don’t. But I want to. I think you keep jumping at chances, waiting for someone to give you a second one and offer you some kind of security. I think I can do that for you.” Philza shrugs calmly, glancing briefly at Techno. 

There’s a shared history there. Tommy wonders briefly if the King has a reputation of giving second chances. 

“You have a choice. You’re welcome to sleep on it. I want you to join me for the next five years of your sentence and if it goes well, you can stay for longer. Have a roof over your head, a steady income, a place working here under the Arctic Empire, or we can send you to prison. Not the Pit, but a high security one still, and you’ll wait until I hand you over to the next kingdom. Once you’ve finished, you’ll be exiled and every guard from here to the neighbouring kingdom will know your face.” Philza lays all his cards out on the table.

Tommy’s head rings. The King had to be crazy. He’s not in a position to be making demands, he’s barely got any kind of position at all, but the King wasn’t treating him like someone who’d tried to kill him, and Tommy couldn’t wrap his head around it.

A part of him wants to be spiteful. He wants to tell King Philza to fuck off. That the man doesn’t know him, doesn’t know his situation, his past, doesn’t know any of the shit Tommy has fought through to survive.

But Tommy had only agreed to try and kill the man for money and if the King was offering him something he’d spent his entire life searching for in exchange for Tommy to protect him instead.

Well, how different could it be to protect from assassins instead of be one?

Tommy pushes down the thrum of adrenaline. Tries to hide the potential he can feel from the opportunity being presented to him. Pretends like he’s not already thinking of ways to run if this is some kind of con.

Instead, he holds eye contact with King Philza. 

“So what exactly is the job?”

Tommy’s never been taken to a medic by anyone before. He’s patched himself up more times than he can count. He’s taken himself to medics and left when they started to get a bit too nosy for his liking. It’s insane to him that the first time he’s going to stick a visit through is with the royal healer.

Phil’s first point of order is getting Tommy to a medic and sending Techno with him, like some kind of babysitter. It’s a reminder he’s not trusted despite accepting the job. It’s not a surprise, but Tommy’s curious as to how this is all meant to work. Phil hadn’t said much in answer to his question. Just that Techno was going to tell him everything he needs to know and once he understood, Tommy would spend most of his time with Phil.

The walk to the medics gives Tommy a bit of time to understand the layout of the palace a bit more. The whole place was scarcely decorated, but he was pretty good at keeping track of directions and making mental maps, so he didn’t have too much concern. He’s sure getting lost is inevitable at some point, but for now he makes an effort to try and figure out where things are. If he needs to leave her fast, it’ll work in his favour anyhow.

They continue down a large hallway together and reach a set of double doors that Techno pushes open with ease, rapping his knuckles against the browning wood.

Tommy follows behind Techno, taking in the area. It was pretty large, with a little desk up the front, a shelf and bench scattered with random potions labelled for different people, waiting to be picked up, and papers sprinkled around messily in what Tommy can only really describe as organised chaos.

There was a little royal red couch and then behind the desk, a very wide hall with a few rooms dotting it. Maybe five, each numbered.

“Niki?” Techno calls out. There’s a groan from somewhere deep towards the end of that hall and a woman appears, a basket full of strange plants and empty glass vials.

“Oh, for gods sake, Techno. I told you if I see you one more time this week I’m going to ban you from training.” The woman, Niki he presumes, walks over, placing the basket down on the work bench. She had pink hair like Techno’s, although hers was much more faded and tied back hastily with a clip. 

“I’m not here for me.” Techno says and she finally turns to get a proper look, being sucked away from her task. She frowns at Techno and then her eyes widen when she sees Tommy.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” Tommy drawls, folding his arms across his torso. Niki’s eyes drift down to the chain linking Tommy’s feet and then she slowly drags her eyes away and over to Techno. 

“Does Phil know he’s here?”

“Yeah, he’s just a new hire.” Techno nods to the chain, “We’ll take that off while we’re in there.”

“Right.” Niki raises an eyebrow at Techno, then glances over at Tommy and waves to a room. “Um, okay. Prime, come with me. I’ll set you up in a room.”

Tommy follows her into the first room. The whole place feels sterile. There’s a tidy bed in the middle of the room, a little wood chair off to the side, and a bench along the wall with cabinets and a shelf full of an array of medical equipment that Tommy couldn’t name if he tried.

“What’s your name?” Niki asks gently, giving Tommy a nudge towards the bed as she heads over to the bench. She takes out a little notepad and pen, writing down things already which Tommy doesn’t love, but doesn’t mention.

“Tommy.” He sits down on the bed, feet dangling off the edge, and ducks his head, feeling strangely vulnerable under her gaze. It wasn’t scrutinising, but she was looking for everything she could see that was wrong and Tommy was covered in more than just a couple bruises and scrapes.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Niki.” She places her pen and paper down on the bench, turning back around to him. She jabs a thumb in Techno’s direction. “Would you like me to kick him out or do you want him to stay?”

“I should stay.” Techno says, crossing his arms. Niki nods and smiles.

“That’s so lovely, Techno. It would be great if it worked like that.” Niki says, a smile on her face and a flash of protection in her eyes. “Tommy, what would you like?”

Tommy laughs in surprise, smiling at Techno’s face. “It’s fine, I don’t give a fuck.”

It was the truth, no matter how tempting it would be to see the look on Techno’s face at getting kicked out.

Niki shoots Tommy a confirming look and he nods back at her and she holds her hands up, relenting.

Yeah, he was going to like Niki.

“Alright,” She sighs and then looks at Techno, waving to Tommy’s legs, “If you’re staying you can make yourself useful and take off those cuffs.”

Techno doesn’t argue and Tommy wouldn’t either. Niki had a clearness in her voice. She was softly spoken, don’t get him wrong, but she spoke in a way that was more final than it was bendable.

She’s quick to try and make Tommy comfortable, even if he can’t help jumping at every touch. He feels awful every time he flinches and she apologises despite there being no real reason for her to apologise. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. There was just something inside Tommy’s head, some kind of reaction threshold to painful touch, that was completely and utterly broken.

It doesn’t matter if her hand just lightly grazes his face so she can check him for a concussion. Tommy was pulling away like she’d taken a blade to him instead.

After cleaning up some of the more general little scrapes and cleaning anything that looked even slightly prone to infection, Niki hesitates.

“Now we need to handle your wings.” Niki whispers.

“Do what you gotta do, doc.” Tommy responds casually. She’s quiet for a long moment. Techno’s also watching in silence and Tommy’s eyes flick between the two of them. “They’re not that bad.”

Techno lets out a disbelieving, breathy chuckle. Niki turns and swats at him, hushing him.

“Bedside manner,” She curses Techno and he folds his arm.

“Niki…” Techno trails off and Tommy tries to move one of his wings, the one that wasn’t constantly dragging behind him, and he clenches his jaw painfully.

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting to be able to fly for a while.” Tommy grits out in pain, taking a shaky breath. Niki gently extends her hand, palm up and Tommy watches intently as his wing rests on her hand. She takes the weight, relieving some of the heaviness that’s been pulling at Tommy’s back, and she slowly scans over his feathers.

“Tommy,” Niki hesitates, cautiously spreading feathers apart with her finger, “I don’t…”

She trails off and Tommy feels something twist in his stomach. An anxious beast that rears its ugly head and pushes into him, like he’s suffocating. It must show on his face because Niki glances up at him, slightly pale, and then turns away towards her cabinet of supplies.

Niki leans back, thinking. “We’re gonna clean them up for now. I might see if I can make a splint or something similar to just hold them in place while we do it. I can see you’ve tried to preen them where you can reach but there’s some spots I can see back here that I know can’t be comfortable.” Niki pauses in thought, carefully lowering Tommy’s wing and letting go. She spins away towards her cabinet, rummaging around before pulling out a dark tinted vial. She pops the cork off, double checking the label, and bites the inside of her cheek.

“What’s that?” Tommy asks and she extends the vial to him. He takes it cautiously, sniffing it and cringing at the sour stinging feeling in his nose.

“A painkiller of sorts. A very powerful one. Kinda acts like a numbing agent, but you drink it instead of applying it topically.” Niki watches as Tommy downs the drink, coughing at the burning taste as it sears his throat. She glances over at Tommy’s other wing, the one she hasn’t touched, and the anxious thing inside Tommy rises again.

“Is it okay,” Niki says, hesitating to get the words out, “If Techno preens your wings? I don’t have any experience doing that for patients and I know Techno does.”

“Yeah,” Tommy answers, the painkillers swinging into effect. He felt tingly, floating almost, and incredibly heavy.

Niki and Techno slowly work their way around Tommy’s wings. Techno preens and separates, helping Niki clean them, and Niki focuses on bandaging where she can, even stitching Tommy up here and there.

It’s a bit of a disaster as a whole. His wings, that is. He knows it’s not good. He can tell by the way Techno keeps pulling faces and the way Niki’s expression is set in concentration, so much focus that she forgets to respond when Techno talks to her.

They’re in silence for a while, Tommy watching them work in sync, until he’s bored of the quiet.

“We’re kind of like co-workers now, if you think about it.” Tommy says, a smile on his face, and somehow he thinks this is the most distraught Techno has ever looked.

“No, your job is a weird pseudo-job that Phil made up.” Techno responds. Tommy doesn’t know why he thinks it’s funny, but the whole world is a little fuzzy right now and a little wobbly, so he doesn’t question it too much. He shakes his head defiantly.

“It must be important.”

“You’re an assassin for assassins.” Techno answers, pulling his eyes away from Tommy’s wings to look at him. Tommy thinks he might be lopsided. “You protect Phil, essentially.”

“So I’m you?” Tommy drawls, words bleeding together. “I’m replacing you.”

“No. I protect Phil from obvious threats, and I manage an entire army of guards that keep the kingdom safe.” Techno corrects, running his fingers through Tommy’s feathers and separating them.

“Your guards suck royal ass.”

“They’re not all bad.”

Tommy shakes his head, his throat tight. He struggles to get the words out in response so instead he doesn’t. Techno notices and clenches his teeth.

“I don’t authorise the Pit. The royal guards; we keep the power divided to avoid extra trouble.” Techno huffs and there’s a distinct bitterness in his voice. “I work the closest with the king and central city. The others don’t care too much about my vote when it comes to issues on the outskirts.”

Tommy frowns at the thought and Techno shakes his head, muttering to forget about it. He watches as Techno runs his hand through a patch of feathers, eyebrows furrowing when two of the longer ones break loose. Flight feathers, he thinks. Techno places them gently to the side.

“What the hell does an assassin for assassins do?” Tommy asks suddenly, eyes shut as he tries to focus his mind. “That makes no fucking sense.”

“You identify the hidden threats.” Techno shrugs. Simple. “Stuff I wouldn’t notice. You’ll make sure areas are secure, that there’s no extra set of footsteps or hidden persons when Phil travels. You keep an eye on strange behaviours I can’t catch. You look for things that only an assassin knows to look for.”

Tommy hums in recognition, head lulling to the side. “That’s so easy.”

“It’s a good job.” Techno says, his voice suddenly serious. “One you can’t afford to mess up.”

That’s the part that’s confusing. The king was placing a lot of trust in someone who didn’t deserve it. Tommy had tried to kill him once before for a bounty, he wonders if others had tried after him to set the man on edge.

“Phil doesn’t make any sense.” Tommy begins, words dying in his throat.

Techno pauses at that. He’s silent for a minute and just when Tommy thinks the conversation is done, Techno adds with a mutter, “His heart is bigger than his head sometimes.”

He could feel his wings moving, twitching as they’re stretched out for the first time in a while. When Techno’s hand freezes and Niki comes around to check, offering Tommy something to put him to sleep while they keep working, he doesn’t hesitate.

Broken , Niki mutters, voice muffled like she’s underwater.

That ugly thing inside of him that makes his hand shakes and his stomach twist in knots needed to go. As Tommy’s eyes blink shut, it’s the last thing he feels.

When Tommy wakes up, all the pain seems to return to him and there’s nothing he wants more than to curl into a ball and fall back asleep.

He turns his head to the side, confused when he realises he’s in a different room. This one was much larger, a fireplace roaring opposite the bed. Tommy sits up blearily, blinking hard. 

Stone walls surrounded him, but the place was cozy. The bed was soft and plush, the ground was carpeted and the walls had pieces of art and hanging decorations like a mounted polar bear's head above the fireplace and a framed sword at another. There were bookshelves too, pressed against the wall, and a couch cast in orange light from the fireplace.

Tommy moves to stand, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, and he gets a glimpse of his wings. They were bandaged heavily, his right wing shifting to show off a wood and leather splint, like an armour of sorts, to keep it held in the correct position. There were more bandages than there were feathers peeking through, but the feathers that Tommy could see made adrenaline course through him.

They were bright red again. Shining, although a little scruffy looking from sleep, but clean nonetheless. He walks around the room, getting his thoughts together, and then spots a little piece of parchment pinned to the door. Pulling it off, he squints at the words.

It’s from Techno, letting him know that the room he was in was going to be a permanent arrangement and he could take all the time he needed to rest and adjust. It mentions Niki’s concern about his wings, how letting them heal without strain should be Tommy’s biggest priority. Towards the end, Techno says that whenever Tommy is feeling up for it, he could join him for a training session down in the courtyard.

Tommy checks the window, sees that it’s dark, and spends the evening exploring the room, changing into clean clothes that were brought for him and staring at himself in the mirror. He felt like a dickhead while in Arctic Empire uniform. 

It was strange seeing himself in it. Like a dream he couldn’t wake up from, but even so he’s not sure it’s one that he wants to wake up from.

The uniform was shockingly comfortable, designed to retain heat, and Tommy’s only a little bothered by the collar of the suit when it’s done up all the way. He settles for just keeping the top segment undone, not giving much of a fuck what people thought.

He drifts off to sleep on the couch at some point. It’s been a long time since he’s known a luxury even remotely similar to this. Food was brought to him, he kept the fire going constantly, and the bed was like floating on a cloud.

Niki drags him out of his room the next day, knocking politely at first and then upon seeing Tommy awake giving him a quick check up and bandage change before forcing him to go on a walk with her.

It’s nice, peaceful mostly. The small talk is a little bit painful but Niki seems happy to carry the conversation. They briefly run into Phil and Techno, who are hauling ass down the halls because they’d both forgotten about a meeting with the other kingdoms.

Niki doesn’t seem surprised and Tommy once again finds himself struggling to wrap his head around the entire situation.

How the hell did the Arctic Empire stay afloat? 

Tommy spent his whole life learning that nothing comes easy. That if you weren’t good at fighting, you got good at running, and if you were good at both, then you needed to drop your morals and start travelling light.

It’s exactly what he did. He’s lived a lot of lives. Taking jobs without question more often than not.

Now, that’s being challenged. There’s good in Niki, who helps him without question. Without gain. Without being sent. 

The King wasn’t a fierce ruler like Tommy thought. He was a man who ran late to meetings and said thank you to his staff.

The captain of the royal guard, Techno, well he was still a bit of a twat in Tommy’s opinion but he wasn’t a force of nature that was apathetic to others. It was only from Niki that he found out Techno was the one bringing food to his door when Tommy stayed in his room.

After about a week-long period of settling in, trying and failing to understand how the Empire worked, he finally asks Niki to help him find Techno. She’s more than happy to oblige him and Tommy’s head swims just slightly because he still didn’t understand why Niki was so kind without gain, but he was starting to adjust to it.

It’s nice, Tommy decides.

They find their way to Techno and the two of them watch him fight. He was still healing, but Tommy was eager to recover so he takes every piece of advice Niki gives him. It’s not long before he’s walking a lot better. His wings still made him a bit wonky. That would take the longest. Relearning to balance. Finding his center of gravity again and figuring out how to handle the sudden change.

More time passes, but it feels like a breeze. Phil would come check on him occasionally, and Tommy felt awful for being so painfully awkward around him when it was clear the man was trying his hardest.

When Tommy wakes up today, it’s Phil who knocks on his door, causing Tommy to jerk back in surprise, eyes widening.

“Oh. Phil.” Tommy greets. He doesn’t see anyone with the man, but the unusually tidy suit and cloak that Phil was wearing told Tommy that Phil probably wasn’t going to stick around for long. He looked like he had places to go.

“Hey mate,” Phil answers, scratching the back of his head. He looks down the hall, then back at Tommy. “Niki told me you were feeling much better.”

“Oh yeah, she’s incredible.”

“That’s great,” Phil breathes in relief, rocking on his heels. He takes a small step back, clasping his hands in front of him. “I figured since you’re feeling better you might like to come with me for the day. Get started on your ‘sentence’ and make sure I’m not killed and what-not.”

He says it so casually that Tommy would laugh if it wasn’t for the nervous rise in his stomach, shifting like a worm in water.

“Yeah,” Tommy croaks, clearing his throat and making his voice come out stronger. “It’s probably about time.”

“Good.” Phil agrees with a snappy nod, stepping back and waving Tommy forward. “I made my schedule easy for you. Gotta start slow.”

Phil turns and starts walking.

“Oh, like right now? Right. No, sure.”

Like that, Phil is off. He doesn’t glance over his shoulder to make sure Tommy’s still following. He has to jog to keep up as Phil races away and Tommy swears he must be speed walking because there’s no way this is anyone’s natural walking pace.

“So what exactly am I doing?” Tommy asks, following Phil. “Techno explained, sort of, but I was off my ass on painkillers.”

“Look out for assassination attempts. Anything out of the ordinary. If you’re not cut out for it, just alert one of the guards. Techno’s told them that if you tell one of them something, they need to listen. Don’t worry too much about it, mate. Today’s pretty uneventful.” Phil shrugs. It doesn’t fill Tommy with a lot of confidence.

“Right. That can look like a lot of different things, though.” Tommy has to jog to keep up. He speed walks and when Phil slips a little too far ahead, does a weird little half run to keep up.

“Once you get the hang of what a typical day for me looks like, you’ll get better at noticing anything suspicious. If you think there’s any fatal security flaws that you know first hand an assassin would take advantage of then definitely alert someone. Just do your best, Tommy.”

Phil finishes and then he extends his wings and glides down the staircase. Tommy swears he must be taking the steps three at a time to keep up.

“It’s very simple today, mate. Just follow me around.”

Tommy’s not sure how Phil interprets the word ‘simple’, but one thing is very apparent. His definition is different. Phil starts rattling off a list of activities all the way to the horse carriage. He hopes that Phil doesn’t expect him to remember all of it as Phil climbs into the carriage, taking a seat. Tommy’s leg bounces anxiously.

What he’s certain Phil must not understand is that when you’re an assassin, a good one at that, there are endless ways to exploit any kind of weakness. Tommy’s brain has already run through a hundred ways Phil could die right now. It’s a lot harder, Tommy realises, coming up with a protective measure against some of the plans he comes up with than it is to actually execute the plan.

Phil sees a whole random heap of people in his court as the first thing. He listens to their problems, offers solutions or help wherever he can. Tommy walks up and down the line for any security threats and the most he finds is a dude with a pitchfork.

Public events seem to be the number one thing after that. Tommy’s not sure if he’s ever been this stressed in his entire life.

They walk through the streets for a while. Phil seems inclined to visit the market to Tommy’s absolute horror. Something about encouraging trade, as well as getting to know the city and the people within it. 

Tommy used to love slipping into a crowd and disappearing. Now, as he looks around at a sea of faces, he’s trying to convince himself that not everyone is an axe murderer.

He speaks at the grand opening of some kind of new courthouse. The entire time Phil is on stage, Tommy’s off to the side, eyes scanning the buildings nearby nervously. Watching the crowds expressions to see anyone who looks vaguely displeased. Hands itching at his sides for some kind of weapon despite there being nothing there.

Initially, he expected this to be a walk in the park. Techno had told him what to do and Tommy hadn’t questioned for a second how difficult that might be. As Tommy gets to thinking about it now, he wonders how true that idea was.

If someone jumped out at Phil, he was a hired meat shield. Screwing that up was just as much a death sentence as succeeding in giving his life for Phil’s. He hopes that he’ll be good enough at the job it will never comes down to that. Even if he has to step in to save Phil’s life, he hopes he’ll be good enough at surviving to keep on living for the next.

Phil visits a hospital of sorts later on and Tommy glares at anyone who looks at them for a little too long. When someone tries giving medicine to a patient, Tommy’s guard shoots up because he’d be damned if anyone was going to hold onto any mysterious vials around Phil without him being concerned about it. Phil has to tell Tommy that he needs to look just slightly more relaxed in a hospital setting and Tommy grimaces, letting Phil know that if he dies on Tommy’s first day of the job it’s going to look terrible.

As they leave, climbing back into the carriage, Phil sighs rubbing his face tiredly.

“Tommy, I don’t know how to say this nicely but we might need to work a little bit on your socialising skills.”

“Did I fuck up?” Tommy asks, wringing his hands nervously. “There were so many death threats in there, Phil. It was bloody ridiculous.”

“We were just visiting sick children, mate.” Phil says gently, leaning back in his seat. “You can’t look riddled with concern during those kinds of trips.”

Tommy frowns, bowing his head. He fiddles with his hands quietly. “It’s hard being on this side of the job.”

A beat passes. Phil looks at him, studying him closely before hesitating to speak. “What do you mean?” 

“Killing is easy.” Tommy shrugs in truth. “Saving is hard. I can think of a hundred different ways you might have died today.”

Phil wheezes in surprise laughter. “Alright, don’t think too hard.”

Tommy snorts, shaking his head. “No point in killing you anymore.”

“I’m glad?”

“But if any of those were actual attempts on your life…” Tommy waves his hand in a so-and-so matter. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek, looking out the carriage window. “This is hard.”

Phil hums in recognition. “It’ll get easier.” 

The words are far kinder than what Tommy thinks he deserves. They’re both silent for a moment, the world passing by with a muffled rumble outside. They’re both lost in thought, off in their own worlds, before Tommy finally works up the courage to speak.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you offer me a job?” Tommy asks. His throat is dry as he swallows, forcing himself to look at Phil’s surprised expression.

“I told you. You deserved a second chance.”

“You left me in The Pit for six months first.” Tommy bristles, a sour taste in his mouth. He rubs his arm nervously, heart racing. Phil sucks in a breath. Tommy shakes his head, “Sorry.”

“You were never meant to be there for that long.” Phil admits, and despite the distant look on his face, his feathers were fluffing up as he thought. “There’s a neighbouring kingdom to us, one run by a ruler called Schlatt. He came to visit shortly after you tried killing me. He had some interesting demands.”

“What kind of demands?” Tommy asks and Phil shifts uncomfortably.

“He wanted some of our land. We might have a barren earth atop the ground but our mines are rich with resources. He threatened to cut off his trades routes if we didn’t oblige.” Phil shrugs, an annoyed glint in his eyes as he recalls the events. “I’d been busy but when I finally had the time to talk to you, I sent a messenger out to The Pit calling for you to return back here for questioning. Instead, I received a message about a week later stating you’d escaped and killed a lot of guards on your way out.”

Tommy feels his stomach churn, drawing back. He’d tried escaping only two weeks in two being there. He shrinks in on himself without thinking. “So leaving me there for all that time, that was supposed to be my punishment.”

Phil’s eyes widen as he looks at Tommy and he shakes his head. “Gods, no. We’ve never left anyone there for longer than two weeks until you. In that message of your escape— they failed to include the part where you were captured alive. I only found out when a peasant came to me and demanded fees for his house. I told him I didn’t just give money out for homes that were weathered over time. He explained that they never would have broken if an escaped prisoner hadn’t smashed through them when they were hiding from my guards.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Phil laughs airily, something unplaceable on his face as he looks at Tommy. “I didn’t take the news well. I told Techno to go escort you here as soon as possible. He left the next day.”

“I thought dying there was meant to be my punishment.” Tommy croaks, it feels like an admission of guilt.

“The guards out there, they’re loyal men but they certainly aren’t caring ones. Some of the tools they used on you, the wing clamps, they’re meant to only go on for a short period of time. Emergency measures if the prisoner is a flight risk or hurting others. The guards who left them on have been fired and removed.” Phil says, voice suddenly stern. He looks frustrated, but more clearly he looks guilty. “They knew long term use could damage your wings. To see them broken from the clamps…” Phil shakes his head as his voice dies in his throat.

Tommy doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really know what to say. There’s a sudden realisation that Phil doesn’t know the full story. In the report on Tommy’s escape that Phil had read out upon their meeting, the guards had failed to put a few things on the record. Tommy’s wings hadn’t broken because of the clamps, but the clamps had certainly sparked why he ran in the first place. 

He wonders what Phil thinks, what they told him without Tommy’s knowledge.

How did he look in the eye of a king who he’d tried to kill?

“I’m sorry you were there for so long, mate.” Phil finishes, voice small. Tommy feels his eyes burn and he forces his expression to flatten.

“I…” Tommy trails off, his throat squeezing shut. He’d thought for the longest time that his extended stay was the punishment. That instead of an execution, that was going to be how they tore him down.

The words make something shift in Tommy’s chest, like there was something cold and heavy he never knew was there until he felt the warmth.

He doesn’t say thank you. Doesn’t tell Phil he forgives him. Instead a beat passes as they trundle down the road. Then another.

They make it all the way back to the castle before Tommy speaks, voice so quiet it could be mistaken for the wind.

“It’s not your fault.” Tommy mutters and Phil hesitates at the words as he starts to climb out of the carriage. He looks at Tommy for a short second, before turning and climbing out, offering Tommy a hand with a sad smile on his face.

Niki finds him a couple days later in the library. She taps the table cautiously that Tommy’s slumped against, snoring softly, and he jolts awake. His hands are clenched into fists before his eyes even have time to focus on Niki and she straightens, watching him nervously.

“Good morning.” Niki greets and Tommy flushes, leaning back in a little wooden chair. He blinks a few times, forcing himself to wake up, and looks out towards a nearby window. The sun was high in the sky. Hmm. “Late night?”

Tommy nods and rubs one of his eyes, looking down at the slew of books in front of him. He dog ears a page and shuts it. Niki doesn’t say anything as she reopens the book to the dogeared page, flattening the paper and instead lifting the book ribbon and sliding it down between the pages.

“Potions?” Niki asks, staring at the words and illustrations.

“Yeah.” Tommy says, pushing the book away.

“Are you planning your next assassination on Phil or trying to steal my job?” Niki smirks, a playful mood about her and Tommy scoffs lightheartedly.

“No, nothing like that. Phil took me with him to a couple public events. We visited a hospital and I just…” He trails off, waving dismissively to the book as he shrugs. “I just want to be able to identify the dangerous ones by sight.”

“Ah, studying.” Niki chuckles and then gestures for Tommy to follow her. He stands, slightly groggy, and they walk at a slow pace through the castle. “So you’re taking your job quite seriously then?”

“I miss killing for cash.” Tommy sighs and Niki laughs. “Do you know how hard it is to keep people alive?”

“Yeah, actually.” Niki responds and Tommy groans in realisation. “I should hate you for all the work you give me.”

“That’s called running a business, Niki.” Tommy says flippantly. “I get you customers. You keep ‘em alive so I can bring them back.”

“Please don’t.” Niki laughs, grimacing. “It was scary enough when Phil nearly died.”

“Yeah, well, you get it then.” Tommy lets out a breath as they walk. “He’s got the survival instincts of a snail.”

“A very important snail, mind you.” Niki warns and Tommy cackles before shaking his head, swiping a hand through the air.

“I don’t actually miss killing. I just miss the simplicity of it. I don’t remember the last time I picked up a book.”

“I could teach you some stuff.” Niki suggests and Tommy looks over here.

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would.” Niki says and points her thumb back towards the library. “I’ve read all the books in there a dozen times. I don’t mind helping you out.”

Tommy thanks her profusely and she laughs, insisting it’s fine, and they organise a rough time in the next couple days for when they can start meeting up to talk. There were high stakes to this job, and it wasn’t one that he could just skip town and run from with a lot of ease anymore. The wanted posters might have been inaccurate before but there was no saving him now.

They keep walking like that for a while until Tommy eventually asks if they can go see Techno. Niki’s more than happy to oblige him. It had been a while and even though Tommy would never admit it, Techno was growing on him the more he talked to the man.

“So how are you finding castle life?” Niki asks as he leads him down a grand staircase. Tommy laughs.

“Niki, in literally no fucking world am I complaining.” Tommy shakes his head, using the railing as he trails behind her. His balance was still thrown off while his wings were healing up, able to move and no longer dragging. Niki watches him with a small smile.

“Well that’s good to hear. I heard from Techno you’d holed up all of yesterday. Apparently he came to visit but you were sleeping. Told me you were turning your room into a sauna.”

“I hate the cold. Back home even our wind was warm.” Tommy snorts as Niki continues leading them, bringing Tommy to an open door that leads out into a courtyard, a garden smothered in snow but strangely well kept. He wonders if it ever gets warmer here. If there’s ever a time you can see the thawing ground as a bright, verdant green instead of the stiff crunching snow he’d grown accustomed to.

“Where’s home?” Niki asks, head quirked to the side. Tommy hesitates, looking outward as they walk along a dirt path.

“I grew up in the West. Near Kinoko Kingdom.” Niki seems to hold on to his every word and it makes something strange fizz inside Tommy’s chest. “It’s not really home. I travelled a lot.”

Niki laughs at that, nodding profusely. “Oh, so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah?” Tommy raises his eyebrows as they walk, hedges breaking the bitter wind as they move further into the garden. Niki looks at Tommy in surprise.

“Phil’s had more than just one or two offers from neighbouring kingdoms in exchange for your capture. You’re quite the wanted man.”

“Everyone calls him Phil,” Tommy hums, thinking aloud. “Never King Philza, or anything like that. Just Phil. I feel so weird calling him Phil.”

“He prefers Phil,” Niki shrugs as they turn a corner and a pavilion comes into sight, a huge structure with marble pillars and a domed roof made of some kind of blue wood Tommy’s never seen before. “He’s not the big bad ruler a lot of people think he is. He’s pretty soft.”

Tommy believes it more and more each time he speaks to the man. Niki winks at Tommy and he chuckles, shaking his head gently. 

Nearing the pavilion, he could see a weapon rack and a couple straw dummies off to the side. Techno was there, swinging an axe through the air with a clean swoosh like the air itself was being cut in half.

Techno stops when he spots Niki and Tommy, straightening and lowering his weapon. Niki waves at him and Techno offers a small wave back as they approach.

“Is this a hostile takeover of the training space?” Techno drawls sarcastically and Niki shoos him with her hand.

“We can share, we’re all adults.”

Techno raises a skeptical eyebrow and glances at Tommy who responds with a death glare.

“What’s he doing out of his enclosure?” Techno jokes.

“I spend one day resting like I was told…” Tommy sighs and Techno shrugs.

“Can’t stop the grind.”

“You’re a bad influence.” Niki warns, wagging a finger in warning. “And you were working in the library when I found you.”

Tommy cringes awkwardly, vaguely apologetic. For a moment there’s a confronted look on Techno’s face, like a kid caught red handed. He was feeling a lot better and he was starting to get restless. His energy had returned and with it, he couldn’t help but want to be doing more than staying in his room all day and going for short walks.

“You should be resting more,” Niki says pointedly to Tommy before turning to Techno, “and you shouldn’t be encouraging my other patients to race through recovery.”

“Lame.” Techno deadpans. “I’m too busy to rest.”

“You need a hobby, dude.” Tommy snorts and Techno disguises a laugh with a scoff.

“This is my hobby.”

“Lame.” Tommy deadpans but he doesn’t manage to stop a shit-eating grin from creeping onto his face at Techno’s glare.

“You’re talkative today.”

“Dickhead.” Tommy spits and Techno watches him thoughtfully for a moment before turning to Niki. 

“Can we–” Techno begins, mouth half way open.

“No.” Niki shuts down. Techno huffs in disappointment. “Techno, he can’t fight. He’s barely able to walk straight.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy exclaims, staring at Niki. “I can walk just fine!”

“No you can’t.” 

“Kid says he can walk.” Techno says and then points to the weapons rack. “Give that boy a sword.”

Niki sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s in recovery.”

“I could fuck you up in a fight.” Tommy declares, looking up at Techno. 

“I believe it. Niki, let me fight him.” Techno says, very clearly lying, a smile on his face.

“Techno–”

“Wooden swords.” Techno tries, heading towards the weapon rack and placing his axe on the ground. He starts to grab a sword.

“No!” Niki yells, racing over. She takes the sword from Techno’s hand, putting it back on the rack. By the time she turns back to Techno, he’s got two wooden staffs in his hands. “When the hell…”

“I won’t even try to knock him out.” Techno promises, throwing a staff to Tommy. Tommy’s hands twitch, the instinctual urge to flinch away, but he catches the staff like he’d been practicing for this very circumstance. Adrenaline races through him.

“If you give my already concussed patient a concussion, I swear to the gods Techno, I’m making you explain to Phil.”

“I had a concussion?” Tommy asks, leaning on his staff for support, eyes wide. Niki looks at him in disbelief.

“Tommy, I’m not sure what you didn’t have.” Niki admits with a hand on her hip and she turns a glare on Techno. He raises his hands defensively.

“No concussions. No knock outs. Staff only.” Techno extends a hand to Tommy insistently. “He’s gotta start somewhere.”

Niki turns to Tommy instead, redirecting her attention.

“Tommy, you have two badly injured wings, one that was broken in three places for who knows how long.” She warns and Tommy nods, listening closely. “This is a bad idea. I wouldn’t advise fighting Techno even if he barely knew his way around a weapon and you had nothing more than a sprain.”

Tommy looks over at Techno. “I think we deserve a rematch. Pretty sure the night I tried to kill Phil I knocked you on your ass.”

“Prime, you’re both as bad as each other.” Niki mutters, turning and taking a seat. There’s concern written all over her face, clear as day from the way she fidgets with her hands.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Techno responds, walking forward. “I do remember you trying to escape out a window that was sealed shut.”

Tommy scowls, “Your dumb fucking country is covered in ice. It wasn’t sealed shut, it was stuck because of your shit maintenance."

“Our dumb country.” Techno corrects. “Pretty sure you live here now.”

Tommy twirls the staff around, swinging it performatively. He knew his way around a staff, although it certainly wasn’t his preferred weapon. Techno watches, quiet excitement in his eyes as Tommy takes up a position across from him.

“Where’d you learn to use a staff?” Techno asks, holding his staff like a bar in front of him. Tommy pauses, as if he’s thinking, and then just when he sees Techno’s hand drop that fraction of an inch, he swings out as hard as he can.

Tommy fights dirty, aiming for Techno’s collarbone, slashing down and using his momentum to carry him. Their staffs crack loudly in the air as Techno blocks.

“On the job.” Tommy breathes. They hold the position for barely more than a second, but it’s during that time Tommy sees a dangerous glint in Techno’s eyes. How often does someone challenge Techno during a training session? He was alone when they’d arrived and a small part of Tommy suddenly questions why that is.

Techno darts backwards, staff slinging along with him. He strikes out towards Tommy’s feet and he’s already whirling back. He’s a little unsteady on his feet and he’s got no doubt Techno knows it.

Staffing often felt like a battle based in predictions. He needed to know what his opponent was doing just as much as what his body was. 

Tommy slashes forward with a swift dash, striking down where Techno stood only moments ago. The force of his blow reverberates, buzzing up his arm. Techno races behind him and jabs Tommy in the small of his back with the end of his staff. 

Tommy stumbles forward, spinning to face Techno. His staff meets Techno’s in the air with a resounding smack. The noise makes him wince. It never used to.

“You’re not terrible.” Techno says, a note of surprise in his voice. He whips his staff back away and Tommy quickly tries to get his balance, having been using his weight to put pressure against Techno’s staff.

“Where’d you learn to use a staff?” Tommy asks, throwing Techno’s question back at him as he shifts away. They both circle around, trying to find an opening to strike. Niki’s leg bounces nervously as she watches the two of them.

“I trained with Phil when we were teenagers.” Techno replies and Tommy uses the opportunity to take a quick jab at the man. Techno tries to block with his staff, unprepared, and Tommy hits him in the stomach rather than the ribs.

“Yeah?” Tommy breathes, chest heaving with exertion. “You do seem out of practice.”

Techno barks in laughter, darting away and striking Tommy's shoulder. He ducks down, wind whistling above him as the staff goes flying.

“Phil and I lost touch as teenagers.” Techno responds, rearing around. He jumps as he does a full swing around, hitting Tommy’s other side. It finds the mark and Tommy hisses in pain as it thuds into him.

“Techno!” Niki shouts in warning and Tommy yells back confirmation he’s fine. Niki glares as Tommy side steps, swinging to return the favour. Techno slides backwards out of the way and then comes forward twice as fast, staff shooting out again. Tommy barely blocks it, the sound of wood on wood echoing out across the garden.

“You came back eventually.” Tommy breathes. Techno opens his mouth to reply and Tommy doesn’t hesitate to race forward. He aims for Techno’s chest. Their staffs connect. He lets the staff bounce back, vibrations shaking him and his pounding heart, and hits Techno’s foot with a resounding snap.

Techno inhales sharply, pulling his foot back and Tommy tries to follow up his blow with another. Techno’s staff swings out, catching Tommy’s and twisting it away with a force Tommy can’t match.

It was interesting how Techno fought. It wasn’t quite like the other guards. It was looser. He expected his enemies to fight dirty. He fought properly, and he didn’t try for any foul play, but Tommy has the sense that in a fight with higher stakes he’d be more than capable of letting his guard down and being as free with his staff as Tommy was being.

“Phil offered me a job, same as you.” Techno replies in response. “I got myself into some trouble. Ended up dragged into his court as a result. He wanted me to join the guard.”

Techno hits again, never relenting, never seeming to tire. Tommy’s block is sloppy, but it works. The force nearly knocks him off balance but he quickly leaps to the left as Techno rears back and comes cutting down again. Tommy struggles to catch his staff against Techno’s.

Tommy’s still recovering from the last strike when Techno swings his staff around, knocking Tommy’s feet out from underneath him.

He yells in surprise, falling back and Techno’s hand surges forward to grab Tommy’s staff. Tommy still falls on his ass, but Techno yanking him upward stops him from hitting his head or landing on his wings.

Niki rises to her feet in a panic, shouting at Techno.

“I told Phil there was no way in hell I was joining his guard.” Techno finishes and Tommy stares up in shock. Techno releases Tommy’s staff and extends his hand instead which Tommy takes gratefully as he’s pulled to his feet.

“You said no?” Tommy gapes, mind turning a thousand miles an hour. Techno shrugs, taking Tommy’s staff back from him.

 “He wore me down pretty quick.” Techno admits. 

“Did he offer you something? Or say something that changed your mind?”

“Nah, not really.” Techno carries the staffs back over to the weapon rack with a small shrug. “He asked me for something.”

“You have to tell me now.” Tommy’s gaze follows him, waiting expectantly. Techno turns back around, stares at Tommy for a moment, and then looks past him and nods to something.

“Ask him.”

Tommy turns, heart plummeting down to his feet when he makes eye contact with Phil who stares owlishly. He nearly jumps out of his own skin, adrenaline spiking at the sight, and Phil looks just as surprised at the action as Tommy is shocked there was someone behind him.

Someone who managed to sneak up on him.

“Sorry, mate.” Phil says awkwardly, smiling. His eyes slip from Tommy, to Techno, and back again. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Prime,” Tommy curses, taking a shaky breath.  Phil tilts his head, hands folded into his pant pockets to keep warm. He keeps his posture casual and Tommy can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but he finds himself taking a step back without thinking.

“Phil,” Techno greets. “Tommy was wondering what you said to me to convince me to join the guards.”

Phil lets out a breath at that, laughing, face turned to the sky for just a moment before he turns and looks at Tommy with a glint in his eyes. “He scared me half to death when he said no.”

“I would have been fine.” Techno insists, drawing the last word out. Phil cackles, taking a few steps closer into the pavilion now that the fight is over.

“You were facing a hefty charge for robbing me.”

“See? Fine.” Techno states and Phil shakes his head in disapproval.

“What’d you say?” Tommy asks softly, voice careful. Techno seems to notice the tone shift but Phil’s none the wiser.

“I asked him if he wanted to duel. If Techno won, he walked. If I won, he’d stay.” Phil shrugs, looking over at the weapon rack, lost in a memory. “It was almost too easy.”

“You make it sound like you won.” Techno laughs airily, pushing Phil’s arm and he squawks in outrage, feathers puffing up.

“I did win. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, old man.”

“I’m four years older than you.”

“I kicked your ass and I’d do it again.”

“Oh, really, mate?” Phil wheezes, swinging a playful punch at Techno’s shoulder which he narrowly dodges. “You want to bet?”

Niki walks up to Tommy’s side, watching with an unimpressed stare. Tommy thinks, if he really looks at her, there’s a faint amusement.

“So Phil won?” Tommy whispers to Niki as Philza throws an axe at Techno, sailing through the air before clanging loudly as it bounces off the marble pillars of the pavilion. Techno has a shit eating smile on his face as he picks it up and Phil runs at him with a sword in hand, using his wings to get a running jump.

“Techno won.” Niki answers quietly and then leans to get closer to Tommy’s ear. “He just enjoyed it so much that he asked for a best of three and then threw away the final round.”

“It’s been ten years and you haven’t won since.” Techno complains, axe swinging up as Phil takes flight, wooshing to the right.

“I haven’t needed to try.” Phil mocks and Techno grabs hold of his leg as Phil flies above him, yanking him to the ground with a yelp.

“Techno hasn’t lost a duel since.” Niki whispers and Tommy turns to her, mouth hanging open. She smiles and shrugs. “I said it was a bad idea.”

He shadows Phil a few more times after that. He learns about the vague going-ons of the Empire. It’s nice travelling around, insanely boring when they’re back at the castle and he’s just shadowing Phil while he talks to all the royals, and vaguely interesting whenever Phil brings up Schlatt coming to visit next week.

Time passes quickly at the castle. Royal life never stills. There is always movement, always some kind of event or some sort of going on. It breaks Tommy’s image of the Arctic Empire being an isolated place with isolated people. Everyone here is so connected and in tune with each other, it’s crazy.

He’s starting to get used to it. He’s able to keep up with Phil now. Walk straight too because fuck you Niki, he walked just fine thanks.

It’s all building up to today.

Tommy’s not sure he’s been this nervous in his entire life.

Niki takes the bandages and splint off his wings today. It feels too soon and yet, a bit like it’s been a million years since he’s had these bandages on.

Phil was insistent on coming. He was the only other avian in the castle and this was marking the beginning of Tommy being finally healed enough for Phil to let him start working properly.

Techno walks alongside him as they arrive at the medic chambers.

“Put your shoulders down.” Techno mutters.

“What?” Tommy lowers his shoulders, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. Techno strides ahead, hand on the door.

“You’re so nervous, you’re making me nervous. Relax. Put your shoulders down. Take a breath. You’re getting your splint off and shadowing Phil for the day, not marching to war.” Techno gives him a final look before pushing the door open. Niki and Phil were there already, setting a room up.

“Hi mate.” Phil greets and Tommy waves awkwardly, uncomfortably. He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. Despite the harshness of Techno’s words, it’s exactly what he needs to hear to put on a calm mask. 

He’s convinced everyone can see through it, heart racing like he’s going down, down, down a zipline with no sign of stopping.

Niki leads him into one of the rooms. Techno and Phil hover in the background but his eyes are glued to Niki. Glued to the way she’s unravelling the bandages and carefully dismantling the splint on his wing. Once she’s got the splint off, Tommy sees nothing but concern on her face. Lips pursed together, eyebrows knitted in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

Niki hums to herself, making obvious movements as she reaches for Tommy’s wing. She grabs his right one, the one he knows for a fact is far more damaged than the other, and his breathing hitches as she gently pulls it out, extending the red feathers.

“It just–” Niki cuts herself off, taking a small breath. “It hasn’t quite healed like I wished it would.”

Tommy looks at his wing. It looked far better, he thought. It didn’t drag anymore. It sat nicely on his back, folded against him comfortably. It was strained when it was stretched out, and it… no, that was just the muscles. He was just weak. He hadn’t been able to stretch his wing or use them for six months. They were going to be a little strained and weaker than they were before.

Niki runs a finger along the bone and Tommy’s wing twitches, watching her intensely.

“Gods, Tommy,” She breathes softly, “How on Earth did you manage this?”

“I’ve been resting.” Tommy whispers.

“I know.”

“Was it the spar with Techno?” He asks, voices shakier than he would have liked. A grim look passes on Techno’s face before Niki reassures them that’s not the case.

“How much longer does it need the splint?” Phil asks softly. Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. His eyes dart between his wings and Niki’s frozen expression.

“I don’t know.” Niki admits, rubbing her forehead with the side of her fist. She shuts her eyes, thinking.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know, Niki?” Tommy snaps and he knows he shouldn’t be angry with her. He knows it’s a mistake as the words leave his mouth but he can’t help it. “You’re the medic. ”

“Tommy, relax.” Techno murmurs.

“Fuck off, Techno.”

Niki, for all his conversations with her over the last couple weeks, was an open book. She was easy to read. She was honest. She told Tommy the answer to all his questions no matter how small.

Today, she is none of that. Today she is a medic first. She is cold and clinical and Tommy’s heart is pounding so hard against his chest he thinks he might throw up.

“I…” Niki pauses and there’s bile in his mouth. She withdraws her hand, releasing his wing and Tommy pulls it back against him like a shield. “Tommy, I don’t know. I’ve never seen a break this bad before.”

“Just reset it again.” Tommy insists and he forces his wing to extend to its full length, brushing the wall. It pinches in pain, clear all over his face, and Niki rests a hand on the top of his feathers, slowly pushing it back into a comfortable position.

“Stop, you’ll strain it.” Niki says, taking a step back. Her eyes flit over his wing, thinking and scanning frantically.

“Just force the bone back into place. Put me under. I’ll wait.”

“It could do more damage.” Niki shakes her head, hand hovering on top of Tommy’s wing to stop it from stretching it out.

“I don’t care if it hurts, seriously.” Tommy pleads. “Niki, just do it. I’ll stay still, I swear.”

“I’m not doing that, Tommy.” Niki firmly replies, withdrawing. Phil frowns, rubbing his face as stress rolls off him in waves. Niki turns to her cabinets, walking over and rummaging. She stares and Tommy knows she’s stalling. She’s thinking, flicking through potions and vials. Hesitating because what she’s searching for is a miracle.

“Do you think it started healing incorrectly before we helped?” Phil asks.

“That’s what it looks like.” Niki mutters, biting the inside of her cheek. “Do you know when you broke it?”

His chest aches as he nods. “During my time at the pit.”

“I’m banning those wing clamps.” Phil mutters, making a mental note. “I can’t believe they damaged them so badly.”

Niki turns back around, a confused expression on her face. Her eyes dart from Tommy and drag over to Phil. “Wing clamps?”

“They’re designed to restrain short-term for more violent prisoners.” Techno explains, folding his arms. His jaw is clenched angrily as he speaks and Tommy’s heart is jackrabbiting out of his chest. Niki turns to see Tommy. His chest is rising and falling rapidly as memory swirls in his mind. A violent stream that doesn’t seem to end.

Niki turns back to Phil, pressing her lips together like she’s uncertain if she should speak. Phil looks at her curiously. 

“Phil, his wings are broken in three places.” Niki says, voice quiet. Phil looks at her and then the colour slowly drains out of his face as the words set in.

“What are you saying?” Techno asks. Niki freezes, an apologetic glint passing over her eyes. Techno shifts forward, a surge of anger that he barely manages to contain. “Tommy, how did your wings break?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Tommy says, voice cracking. He takes a desperate breath, sucking back his emotions. “Can you fix them?”

“Tommy, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what happened.” Phil answers.

Tommy shakes his head. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe in this fucking sterile medical room. He tells himself it looks just like his left wing. That the bone is set neatly in place. That nothing has ever happened. Prime, why did something have to happen? His brain was a mess, clouded and confused, he was shaking, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Niki,” Tommy croaks, brain fogged as thoughts blur past him. “Please fix them.” She’s silent and Tommy feels a strange concoction of emotions, anger and grief and fear, so much fear, running through him. “Niki, please.”

Niki’s eyes water and she takes a step forward. “I don’t know if I can, Toms.” 

“No, you have to.” Tommy begs and he stands now. Niki takes a step forward and Tommy’s face winces despite the fact his body is pushing him forward, grabbing her wrist. “Niki, you have to fucking fix them. Here. Here– just take them.”

He moves her wrist to his wing, the bone clearly misaligned now that he’s stretched it out fully.

“Tommy, you’re hurting yourself.” Niki warns, tears burning in her eyes. “Stop it.”

“Fix it.” Tommy begs, voice breaking in desperation.

“Tommy, I can’t.”

 “Break them again! Please. They’ll heal properly this time.”

“They won’t. Listen to me.” Niki says, yanking her arm away. A sob rips out of Tommy’s mouth. “Tommy, stop.”

“Please. Please, Niki. You have to fix me.” Tommy goes to reach for her and Techno grabs his wrist to stop him. Tommy flinches so hard he nearly drops to the floor.

In a heartbeat he runs through it all in his mind. Remembers the crack of bone, boots against feathers, face pressed into the snow and numbing his skin. The heat of tears rolling down his face, one wing being crushed while the other covers his body like a shield.

“Tommy,” Techno says and his hand is still on Tommy’s wrist despite how hard he’s trying to pull away. He remembers to breathe, gasping desperately. Tears slide down his face. “Enough.”

“Don’t fucking touch me, you bastard!” Tommy screams and all he sees in that moment is another guard trying to hurt him.

“Oh, gods. Techno, let him go.” Niki cries and covers her mouth to muffle herself as Tommy thrashes like a wild animal. There is nothing coherent in his brain. Just the realisation that this is wrong. So horribly wrong. All the feelings he’s tried to avoid come flooding into him and he’s desperate to escape them.

“No!” Tommy yells, pulling away from Techno. He finally slips free, or maybe Techno finally releases him. He doesn’t know. There’s one goal on his mind and that’s to escape the feeling that’s building and building inside of him like a tidal wave.

“Just sit down, mate.” Phil tries to placate, hands out in front of him like he’s soothing a child. “We’ll figure something out. We want to help.”

He’s not listening, not really. His eyes are wide and frenzied, quickly scanning over everyone’s horrified look.

“No, I need to leave.” Tommy says, chest heavy with effort. He tries to shove past Techno, who catches him quickly and Tommy pushes Techno back so hard that he nearly falls when he breaks free of Techno’s grip. 

“Tommy, don’t.” Techno commands. 

“I need to go. Let me go.” Tommy shakes his head, trying to get past him. He steps to the side and Techno blocks him. “Please.”

“We’re trying to help you.” 

“Techno, let him leave.” Phil states and Tommy’s wiping frantically at his eyes. He forces his way past Techno, shoulder smacking into Phil on his way out.

“Phil—”

“I said let him leave.” Phil confirms, voice harsh and rough. Tommy’s already out of the room, stumbling desperately away. There’s a twisting nausea building up through him and Tommy feels the need to puke. His heart thuds in his ears, blood roaring as his face burns hot.

He doesn’t know where he’s going as he races down the halls. Wrapping his arms around himself as he walks, Tommy keeps going until he’s certain they’re not following. He’s shaking like a leaf, pawing at his face to stop the tears from coming. He can’t help the hiccuping sobs that tear their way out of his chest. He just hopes they’re quiet enough that nobody finds him.

Tommy leans his chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. The view was nice out here. Snow stretched out endlessly into the horizon, a sea of shining white with little splinters of spruce trees spotting the ground. The sunset casts oranges and reds, bright shades exploding outwards, rippling through clouds like how light refracts off the water.

The sky was starting to bruise, turning darker where it wasn’t painted in gold, shining with purples and black.

Wind blows against his skin, ruffling his feathers and it’s the first time he’s felt the breeze on them since getting here because the bandages are finally off. He must have spent what feels like an hour just looking at them. Spreading his wings out. Flapping them, face scrunched up in pain he never used to have, imagining himself flying far away.

Tommy looks at the bumpy healed bone, runs his finger along it once but can’t bear the feeling for too long before wrenching his attention away.

The tears had dried long ago, it was just the hollow ache in his chest now. Niki didn’t tell him that he would never fly again, but Tommy knows what happens to birds with broken wings.

He can hear footsteps crunching in the snow behind him from a distance and he turns from his perch on the garden wall, eyes meeting Techno’s. Tommy scowls.

“What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Techno doesn’t say anything as he crosses the distance and pulls himself up onto the wall next to Tommy. There’s a small distance between them, but Tommy can feel his skin tingling all the same.

Techno shifts his legs over the wall so they’re dangling over the edge. Tommy keeps himself furled up, feathers puffed protectively, and looks away, head turned to rest on his knees as he stares out into the distance.

They’re silent together for a moment, the wind echoing through a hollow courtyard. 

“I’m sorry.” Techno says and Tommy lifts his head, looking at Techno. Techno’s staring off, an unplaceable look on his face.

“Shut up.” Tommy responds. Techno locks eyes with him and repeats himself.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“A lot of things. For grabbing you.” Techno explains, feet kicking slightly. A cold breeze sends goosebumps up Tommy’s arms. “For not knowing.”

That all too familiar tight feeling appears in Tommy’s throat and he tries to swallow it down.

“I didn’t want you to know.” Tommy mutters, hand nervously pulling at a thread on his pants. Techno bows his head, looking down off the edge.

“I’m going to The Pit tomorrow.” Techno admits and Tommy shivers, heart dropping as he straightens up.

“Yeah?” Tommy croaks.

“Yep.” Techno pops the p, looking outward. He flexes his hand a few times, forming a fist. “The head guard and I are going to have a talk.”

“Tell him I say hi.” Tommy snorts. Techno nods. The breeze isn’t as unpleasant as usual. “It wasn’t just him, you know. The whole place needs to fucking go.”

“I know. Phil and I are planning on it.”

Tommy hums in acknowledgement, feathers flattening. He tucks his wings against his body for warmth.

“They broke them the night I escaped.” Tommy whispers, tugging at his clothes. “I was already pretty roughed up when they tried putting the clamp on me. I grabbed it from the guard and swung it at his head.”

Techno stiffens, but Tommy can tell he’s listening. He turns to look at Tommy, frowning. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t know what was in the escape report, just that it wasn’t the truth.” Tommy shrugs. “I want you to know the truth. I didn’t kill them for no reason, Techno. Despite it all, I don’t like killing. I fucking hate it. It’s only ever been about survival for me.”

Techno listens patiently, nodding and encouraging Tommy that it’s okay whenever he struggles to get through the sentence.

Killing had been about survival for as long as he remembers. Two weeks into being at the pit, when they’d tried to put the clamps on Tommy’s wings, he realised this was where he was going to die. The guard who did it had said it was a gift from Tommy’s last employer. A special kind of punishment to rub the fact he’d failed in his face. To let him know exactly what they thought about Tommy’s misfortune.

If he let them do it, he was accepting a fate he refused to have. Throwing in the towel after a long life of doing anything but.

 Tommy had always fought for his life. He was not going to choose silence when it matters most.

The first man had died easily. A heavy metal clamp to the brain will do that to you. The next few were easy too. Simple kills where he’d taken the chain of the clamp to their neck, silencing them and dragging them out of sight. One by one. After that, Tommy had stolen the dead men’s weapons and rampaged.

He’d never kept score of all the horrible guards in that place, but every person who challenged him as he’d tried running had fallen. Blood spilling in deep gashes across the ground, mixing with the mud and snowy slush at his feet.

Tommy takes a breath, remembering the soaring feeling of hope he’d had when he’d gotten out of the pit. Wings battering against a snow storm, fighting to keep pushing onwards. He’d left a trail of bodies, blood a bright marker amongst the ice and snow.

“When they caught me at the town over, I fought with everything I had, Tech.” Tommy’s voice cracks and he coughs, like the emotion is a bug caught in his throat. “I didn’t want to kill them.”

“You did what you had to, Tommy.” Techno says and Tommy sniffles. He shakes his head in frustration, swiping his eyes with his thumb.

“I shouldn’t have stopped running. I should have just kept going.” Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. “I fucking– I fought so hard, right up until they knocked me to the ground. It wasn’t fair. They just…” He trails off and there’s tears building in his eyes. Techno watches as Tommy wipes the tears away as fast as they slip down his face. Tommy’s anger was growing, eyebrows drawn as the memory plays out in his head. “They wouldn’t stop kicking me.”

He remembers screaming, throat ripped raw as he struggled. Tommy had run out of the house he’d hidden in, launching into the sky despite the storm just as a man had snatched his wrist and wrenched him to the ground with a violent force. He’d scrambled to his feet, fingers digging into the snow to push himself forward, when the first guard had grabbed hold of his wing and yanked it to the floor with a pop and tear, forcing Tommy to fall. Pop. Crunch. Crack.

Tommy curls in on himself protectively and Techno starts to reach a hand it out, hand hesitating in the air, before committing to placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. At the comfort, Tommy melts.

He leans his head against Techno’s arm, waiting for the rage of emotions storming through him to die down.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Techno murmurs, hand gently rubbing circles against him. 

“I just want to fly again. I miss my wings so fucking much, Tech.” Tommy murmurs back, heart aching. Techno hums in response and Tommy sinks against him, a tiredness sweeping over the boy. The exhaustion was bone deep, threatening to carry him off to sleep, but he forces his eyes to stay open despite how comfortable he is.

There are very few things Tommy has ever considered himself scared to lose. He’d never considered putting his wings on that list. Now that he’s confident he won’t be flying for a long time, he doesn’t know how he’ll ever feel whole again.

How do you apologise for something you didn’t do? Techno lets Tommy lean against him, mind running away from himself because there’s no number of apologies that can help this. Techno wears the same uniform as the bastards who’d done this to Tommy. 

He doesn’t know how Tommy is so quick to forgive him. All Tommy cares about is shaking off the feeling of hands and boots crushing his feathers. All he cares about is someone who’s willing to sit silently with him and who’s treated him with relative respect since the beginning.

Even when Tommy had first been caught all that time ago, Techno hadn’t been rough without reason. It’s insane to him how fast things change. How the dickhead royal guard he’d been captured by was now the one offering him his support. How the king he’d tried to murder was now his employer, now trying to help him heal. It makes Tommy’s head hurt if he thinks about it too much.

After a few minutes, Tommy grimaces and sits up, glancing back towards the palace. The sun was nearly gone now, the orange shrinking away and leaving stars blinking in its place.

“I need to apologise to Niki.” Tommy groans, rubbing his face. “I didn’t mean any of the shit I said.”

“Nah, Niki is pretty tough. She understands.” Techno promises and it makes Tommy feel a little better, despite how tight his chest feels.

They head back to the castle together, footsteps slightly out of sync as the ground crunches beneath their shoes.

Tommy doesn’t head back to his room. 

He goes straight to see Niki instead, stomach twisting itself into knots. He’s never seen Niki angry, but if there was ever a time he deserved it, it would be now. He knocks on the door and when there’s no answer, he gingerly opens it and peeks inside.

He frowns as he looks around the room, unusually messy. He walks in, looking around at Niki’s desk and collection of medicinal herbs and strange mixtures, stacked up against the walls. Glancing briefly at the desk, Tommy frowns when he sees piles of loose papers, a quill with ink dried at the tip, and about a dozen books sat, some half open and others stacked in piles. 

“Niki?” Tommy calls, voice echoing around the room and down the hall where the row of patient rooms were.

He grabs one of the books on the table, giving it a quick glance.

It was a book about avians. There was a detailed illustration of a wing and Niki had scribbled notes into the margins, circling parts of the wings. Tommy studies it for a moment before realising that she was marking out where his wing had broken and healed incorrectly.

She’d been studying avians for him. Tommy’s stomach gnaws with guilt as he turns around, walking away from the books and towards the room he’d been in earlier that day. His skin crawls as he gently nudges the door open.

“Niki?” Tommy questions and he hesitates when he sees her lying on the patient bed, hand dangling over the edge with a book having fallen on the floor beside her. She rubs her eyes when he says her name. Niki sits up, blinking in confusion, and when she sees Tommy she freezes in place.

“Tommy?” Niki asks, standing up and squinting through the dim lighting. “What are you… are you okay?”

Tommy nods, stopping in the door frame and wringing his hands anxiously. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself.

“Niki, I’m sorry for earlier.”

“What?” Niki asks, shifting to her desk and quickly lighting a lantern. It casts the room in a warm, yellow light, brightening it up far more than the dim state before. “Tommy, you don’t need to apologise.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Tommy admits, folding his arms. “I don’t.. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault.”

“Oh, Toms.” Niki whispers and she opens her arms, offering a hug. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for freaking you out.”

Tommy hugs Niki back tightly, scared to squeeze her but more worried about when he has to let go. If there’s any tears, none of them say anything about it. 

Niki had been his first friend here. There’s no words to describe the relief that Tommy feels. He’d stay for longer if he could, but the day had been so draining that once they say their goodbyes, and Tommy confirms with Niki that they’d still do little lessons together and check-ins to see if she can find some sort of solution his wings in any way she can, he heads to his room and is asleep before his head even hits the pillow.

There’s a warmth in his heart. He doesn’t remember a time that people were there for him, a shoulder to lean on, in the way people were there for him today. It’s confusing, a mess of actions that Tommy struggles to make sense of and understand. It's a good kind of confusing, though. The kind where he thinks maybe he had it all wrong and it just took the care of a few people to show him that.

Tommy had never thought himself deserving of the kind of support they offer him, hell he’d never really thought that sort of thing existed beyond family, but there’s a fierce feeling that bubbles inside him. He’d do anything to keep it now that he’s had a taste. He hopes it’s a good thing. The unfamiliar sense of protection for these people.

Tommy really, really hopes it’s a good thing.

Phil comes to see him the next day. They were making a habit of Tommy shadowing Phil around every few days. He was meant to do yesterday, but Phil made it very clear there were no hard feelings that Tommy needed space.

“You’re sure you’re up to it?”

“Christ, yes.” Tommy sighs in exasperation and this time, it’s him leading the way down the hall, trying to convince Phil to get moving. “I’m not dying, Phil.”

They enter into a room Tommy’s never seen before. It’s almost a war room. The ceiling was arched, thin pillars holding it up as they enter. A massive map table was centered in the room, with little chess pieces marking areas atop the map that Techno was clearing away, talking to someone Tommy couldn’t quite see from the back. He had two guards behind him, so Tommy assumes the man must be relatively important.

There were about six chairs all around the table. As they enter, the man sat talking to Techno turns. His hair was tucked out of his face, ram horns twisting outward and back, and a tidy suit with a gold crest marking him as an important person hailing from Manberg.

He was vaguely familiar, but Tommy wasn’t surprised at that. He’d been in Manberg a couple times. They had great jobs available and a fairly strong crime presence if you were deep enough into that area. He’s got no doubt he’s seen the man’s image around during his time there.

“Schlatt.” Phil nods to the man, extending his hand in greeting. Schlatt shakes his hand with a grin and Phil soon sits across from him.

“Philza. Finally here to talk business?” Schlatt smiles and then claps his hands together. He opens his mouth and then pauses when he sees Tommy. “Who’s the kid?”

“Just a right hand of mine.” Phil answers casually and Tommy quietly walks over to Techno’s side where he’s stood behind Phil. Schlatt eyes Tommy for a moment and then shrugs, diving straight into conversation with Phil.

It’s a long conversation. One filled with political jargon and jumbo that Tommy doesn’t quite have the brain capacity for. He takes away a few key things. One, is that Phil is fucking terrifying as a ruler when people are being rude to him. Two, is that Schlatt is more than ready to burn a couple bridges in order to push his territory forward and access the mines underneath the Arctic.

It’s around dinner time when they start nearing the end of their discussion. The agreement had shaped up a bit more in their favour and Phil wasn’t an unfair man. He’d offered Schlatt some of the empty territory, the outskirts where the snow barely fell. In exchange, Schlatt was to increase the trade being exchanged between their kingdoms with more goods and offer a hefty sum in exchange for the land.

Schlatt snaps to one of his guards to go fetch his right hand man with wine glasses to celebrate as the come to an end. There is a thought in Tommy’s head, a silent question, as to why Schlatt’s right hand man had travelled all this way just to miss out on the meeting with Schlatt. He keeps it quiet though. Tries to squish out the paranoia and mark it just that and nothing else.

It’s not until Schlatt’s right hand man appears, followed in by one of Schlatt’s guards, that Tommy pales.

He knew that man.

Not by name, only ever once in person, but he knew him. Tommy scans his face once, twice. Dark eyes and even darker hair, a flat and pinned suit with a greasy smile that makes Tommy’s skin crawl. That was who sent him to kill Phil.

The man doesn’t even look at Tommy, doesn’t blink, as he grins, presenting Schlatt with a goblet. 

“Oh yeah,” Schlatt cackles, finger tapping the glass in excitement. “This is the good shit, Philza. High quality, straight from Manberg.”

Tommy’s mind races, heart thundering anxiously. Does he interfere? Does he say something? There’s a thousand different realities that slip past Tommy where he imagines what would happen if he chooses to speak or not. It’s disastrous if he’s wrong and disastrous if he’s right but at least doing something means there’s a chance he’s saving Phil.

But what if he’s just paranoid? There’s that itching worm in the back of his head that makes Tommy antsy. Nervous and shaky, a cold sweat on his back. He’d been nervous the whole time Phil had asked him to be his shadow. Everything had been a threat. Tommy’s not sure this is another one of those situations but he’s looking at the two glass goblets in each of their hand and asking himself; why not a wine bottle? Why have them pre-prepared instead of poured in front of them?

“It’s gone well, I presume?” The man laughs and Schlatt nods, taking the wine and lifting it in cheers. He takes a sip and then places it down, glass gently clinking against the wood.

 He couldn’t fuck this up for Phil. He couldn’t let something happen while he was standing behind him.

“It’s been great finally sitting down to talk, mate.” Phil says politely to Schlatt as the man hands him his glass. Phil raises it to his lips and Tommy’s hand trembles as he shoots forward.

“Wait!” Tommy shouts and the air is sucked out of the room, Phil’s hand freezing in mid air. Confusion is written all over Phil’s face and there’s anger on the man who gave them the cups.

“Philza, control your mutt.”

“He’s not a mutt.” Phil spits back and then turns, frowning at Tommy. “What is it, mate?”

Tommy takes a shaky breath, looking over at Schlatt’s right hand man. He stares back, wide eyed, when he realises who Tommy is.

Tommy points to the man. “He’s the one who hired me to kill you.”

“What?” Phil asks and there’s an explosion of noise and arguing.

“Who the fuck is this kid?” Schlatt snaps defensively.

“I’ve never met you in my life–” The man argues, outraged.

“You keep assassins around a lot in your spare time, Philza?” Schlatt asks, bitterness in his voice as he laughs.

“Him?” Phil asks, pointing. “You’re sure?”

Tommy nods. The man rolls his eyes.

“He’s lying. I’ve never met this idiot before.” The man replies, flippant and blatantly dismissive of Tommy’s claim and it brings out something deep inside of Tommy. Something furious. He snaps back, yelling and it’s difficult to hear himself over the cacophony of noise that bursts across the table. At some point, Techno’s at Tommy’s side and Tommy starts pleading his case to Techno who’s listening very intensely. 

Schlatt and the man are shouting at Phil, enraged by the rudeness, and Phil is very silent as he listens to it all.

“Phil, they’re trying to kill you!” Tommy snaps.

“Control your fucking dog, King Philza.” The man spits nastily and Tommy rears up, jabbing a finger in his face.

“I will kill you so fast you’ll never see your seven seconds.” Tommy shouts, turning back to Phil and pointing at his glass of wine. “I’ve seen it a dozen fucking times before–” 

“This is bullshit.” Schlatt drawls, laughing in shock. 

“Now that you’ve agreed they’ll kill you so they can get away with taking even more than what they agreed while the kingdom isn’t looking.” 

Schlatt slams a fist against the table, barking with laughter and Tommy jerks back at the noise, glaring at him.

“I mean this is… god, what a joke! What a- an obvious attempt to drag my character. I mean, I’m shocked enough you’ve kept around your old assassin but to be honest with you Philza, I’m fucking outraged he’s calling us untrustworthy.”

Phil hesitates, looking from Schlatt and then over to Tommy. His voice is quiet as he speaks, but the eye contact he makes is unwavering.

“You’re certain that is the man who hired you?” Phil asks and then turns and points openly to the man at Schlatt’s side. He glances back at Tommy, pointedly, and repeats himself. “You’re sure?”

There’s a question far greater than what he says in those final words. If this was wrong, the consequences would be severe. Phil had seen Tommy jump at every moving thing and triple check under carriages to make sure it’s safe for Phil despite them only having been gone a few minutes.

Tommy swallows back the tightness in his throat. “I’m sure.”

Phil places his drink down on the table, leaning back into his chair. “Well then, mates. There’s only one real way to figure out if my right hand is correct or not.”

There’s silence for a moment. Uncertainty hovering in the air, lingering like a bad smell. Phil takes a breath, reaches forward, and then pushes his goblet towards the man who gave it to him initially.

“You’ll join us in the toast.” Phil smiles and then turns, waving a hand over his shoulder to Techno. “Can you bring me a bottle from the rack over there?”

Techno doesn’t hesitate, grabbing a separate glass, one that belonged to the Arctic Empire, and pops the cork of a wine bottle in front of the very wide eyes of both Schlatt and the man across from him. 

Phil exudes a calmness as Techno fills his glass. His fingers tap the table boredly and he shrugs. “I’m certain you’re telling the truth. You’ll have to forgive Tommy, he can be a little bit jumpy. In the very rare chance he’s correct, however, I’d like you to drink the wine instead.”

The man stares down at the glass, mouth hanging open. Schlatt doesn’t let his eyes drag away from Phil’s.

Phil continues, a cruel smile on his face as he clutches the glass of dark, crimson red. “Besides, nobody does wine quite like the Arctic. Have you ever tried our winterberry? It’s one of a kind. Great this time of year. There’s many types of winterberry that are poisonous to consume, but I suppose we got lucky.”

“I don’t drink.” The man responds, narrowly dodging it. Phil doesn’t blink. Just stares with blank eyes.

“Fine. Schlatt will drink it then.”

“Philza, what are you accusing us of here?” Schlatt asks, leaning forward, hands out on the table. “Maybe we should call it a day. We’ve both gotten what we’ve wanted.”

Phil hums in mock thought, leaning back. He glances over at Techno. “What do you think, mate?”

“It would be a shame to let it go to waste.” Techno’s eyes twinkle. “High quality, did you not say, Schlatt?”

Schlatt glares at them all. His gaze settles on Tommy for a moment too long and his skin crawls, heart pounding against his ribcage.

“I won’t make a deal with a kingdom who thinks we’re untrustworthy scum.” Schlatt spits, placing his glass down and rising from his chair, the legs scraping back loudly. “Next time you want a peaceful negotiation, come find us instead. I won’t be setting foot in this shithole again if I can help it.”

Schlatt and his guards, alongside the right hand man, storm off through the castle. Phil looks back at Techno who nods, grunting vaguely.

“On it.” Techno obliges, following Schlatt out the door. 

As soon as they’re all gone, Tommy lets out a shaky breathe he hadn’t realised he was holding, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Thank god you recognised him.” Phil mutters, looking towards the poisoned glass. He grabs it, lifting it up and smelling it. He frowns. “I’ve no idea what they put in this. I can’t smell anything strange and their colours are identical.”

And that… that makes Tommy’s heart sink because what if he was wrong? Phil looks at him and shakes his head, standing. He knows immediately what’s on Tommy’s mind.

“Tommy, if you hadn’t said anything I would have drank from the glass. Even if it’s fine, the man Schlatt works with has hired you to kill me once before. I don’t want any dealings with someone who tries to pretend to be someone they’re not.”

Tommy extends his hand and Phil’s brows furrow, passing him the poisoned glass. He brings it to his nose, sniffing it. Not hemlock or mandrake. Not nightshade. Phil was right about the colouring too. Both of the glasses looked the same.

Tommy grapples desperately for a poison that’s odourless and colourless. He combs through his mind. It couldn’t be monkshood, that would change the colour and it couldn’t be snake venom or anything that had even the slightest chance of not working or very obviously being a poisoning because fingers would turn straight back to them. Maybe arsenic?

They needed to be discreet about it, so it wouldn’t be fast acting if he had to guess.

Phil gestures for Tommy to follow. “We’ll take it to Niki. She’ll be able to figure it out.”

Tommy perches on the balcony attached to his room, watching out as the night sky winks at him, stars sparkling up above. There’s a knock on his door and he yells back to come in, craning his neck around to see Phil.
He shifts a little bit in his seat, stomach rolling in worry, as Phil comes outside and leans against the balcony rails.

“It was poisoned.” Phil says. “Niki confirmed. She’s struggling to figure out what on earth was in it, but it’s definitely deadly.”

Tommy nods happily, a relief flooding through him as a weight is lifted off his chest.

“I’m very grateful, Tommy.” Phil adds softly. “Thank you, mate.”

He keeps looking out towards the clouds. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You saved my life.” Phil laughs at his modesty. “I’d have one foot in the grave right now without even knowing it if you weren’t there. Gods, can you imagine if you hadn’t come to that meeting?”

Tommy shivers at the thought. “You’d be dead. I’d be dead.”

“You’re a member of the team now, Tommy.” Phil answers, a sudden confused tone. Tommy stares at him in wonder. “If I die now, we’re not going to send you back to the Pit. You know that, right?”

Tommy stutters, mouth opening and closing. “I don’t… Phil, I haven’t counted on anything.”

“We’re slowly moving people out of the Pit, did Techno not tell you that? It’s being shut down, permanently.” Phil’s face sets in a line as he stares out into the clouds. “It’s fucking awful what happened, Tommy. I’m sorry for being so unaware.”

“Everybody keeps apologising to me.” Tommy mutters, chuckling softly. “It’s fine, Phil. I- I just…” He trails off, unsure of himself. “I’ve run my entire life. Literally, my whole fucking life. I don’t remember a time I’d stayed in the same country for more than a year. When things turned to shit, I’d just fucking fly away.”

“You miss it.” Phil replies gently. If anyone would understand it’s Phil. Tommy looks at him, grief weighing heavy on his chest, His voice is a little shaky as he speaks.

“Yeah. I really do.” Tommy sucks in a breath. “I know it’ll be okay. I miss it, I miss it so fucking much. At the same time though, I keep waiting to feel that urge. I don’t know if you’ve ever had it, Phil. But I’ve always had an urge to just fucking book it when shit gets rough.”

Phil nods, listening quietly and looking out towards the stars the same as Tommy. “I understand, mate.”

“I haven’t felt that yet.” Tommy admits, heart aching. “I don’t feel like I need to run anymore.”

Phil sucks in a breath, smiling proudly. “I’m glad. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“It’s weird. You’re all freakishly nice. Be normal.” Tommy jokes and Phil cackles. A beat passes before Tommy works up the courage to change the subject. “What’s going to happen with Schlatt?”

Phil cringes slightly and scratches the back of his head. “I don’t know. He’s no longer welcomed in the city, but I doubt this is the last we’ll hear from him.”

He puffs his feathers out for warmth, staring out at a sky so large and glittering, he can’t help but get lost in it. Phil sees him shivering and extends one of his wings, black feathers unfurling like a blanket. Tommy blinks in surprise but steps closer, surprisingly comfortable as Phil protects him under his wing from the wind.

Tommy hums in thought.“You think Schlatt will come back and try again?” 

Phil thinks for a moment. Neither of them are hurrying the conversation. Sometimes it’s nice to take things slow, to enjoy a moment for all its breaths, all the beats in between, all the stars that shoot past in the background.

“Probably. Or, I suppose, it wouldn’t surprise me?” Phil says with a shrug, as though it’s not attempts on his life he’s talking about but today’s weather. “Thank god you’re here, huh?” Phil jokes and Tommy laughs, a warmth swallowing his chest. 

He’s not sure if Phil understands exactly how hard the words hit him. There’s never been a time in Tommy’s life where he remembers feeling this cared for. It’s strange, how fast things change. How this had been the worst year of his life until the domino pieces had fell into place.

He would never have guessed that trying to kill Phil would be one of the best decisions he’d ever make. If you’d have told him that his wings would take him exactly where he needs to be in the way you’d least expect, he’d have told you to fuck right off back where you came from. Somehow through it all, his broken wings had given him one final trip without him ever knowing it.

Tommy thinks he can live with never flying again if it means staying here, cared for, with people who he could actually call friends.

“Yeah.” Tommy whispers, voice quiet as it loses itself in the wind of a shining night sky. “Thank god.”