The sunlight is warm and dizzying as Tommy steps out from under the shaded awning. He blinks rapidly, lifting a hand up to cover the upper half of his face with some well-deserved shade. His eyes adjust slowly, allowing him to look out across the sidestreet and the dull red brick buildings on the other side of the road. A couple of people walk together in groups. Their voices swirl together into a mass of sound that falls heavily against Tommy's ears, pierced by particularly individualistic shouts or piercing laughter that are unable to seamlessly fall into the harmony. A few clouds dot across the azure sky in the space between each building's rising peaks, and Tommy can smell salt in the air like a storm from the oceanside is approaching the small, packed away alley in the main city.

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't have gone into that room if I were in her place," Wilbur's voice cuts through the murk of the sound like a silver fish darting beneath the surface of a swamp. Tommy turns on his heel, facing the rest of the Craft family as they all file out of the movie theater. Wilbur is pressing against Techno's shoulder, trying to look his brother in the eyes. Kristin and Philza are watching this argument from behind them, soft smiles on their faces as they hold each other's arm.

"Wilbur, you would have been the first one dead," Techno notes skeptically, barely glancing at his brother as he looks around the outside area. His expression remains neutral as the people's clothing reflect in his eyes, but there is a brief moment when Tommy sees his own blue eyes staring back at him. However tiny the second is, Tommy catches the barest hint of a smile on Techno's lips. It makes Tommy's face break out into a huge smile, and his happiness is infectious enough to catch Wilbur's attention.

"Tell him, Tommy. I would survive until the end of the movie," Wilbur asks Tommy, pushing away from Techno's shoulder to put both of his hands on Tommy's shoulders, footsteps light and airy like a dancing sylph.

"You want me to lie to Techno?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow. He leans in a little closer, staring up into Wilbur's eyes. There is a twitch of a smile on his face, but Tommy does his best to school his features into something neutral and open, similar to the expressions Techno effortlessly flaunts. Tommy has a feeling he isn't doing too well at the mimicry, but Wilbur takes no interest in that. He is caught on Tommy's words. He dramatically gasps, releasing Tommy's shoulders. He leans back so far that he nearly crashes into his mother. Kristin giggles, releasing Philza's arm to catch Wilbur. Her son looks up at her, and she gives him a bright expression. Wilbur's faux offense disappears like smoke in the wind, revealing the wild sparks that decorate the curves of his skin.

"Come on, love," Kristin tells him, pushing Wilbur into a standing position. She links their elbows together. She uses her other arm to reach out behind her, fingers outstretched for someone to take. Philza steps toward her, but Techno grabs her hand before Philza can get to him. Techno casts an expression over his shoulder, the most emotion Tommy has ever seen him wear. Philza affectionately calls Techno a 'little shit' as Kristin tugs both of her sons closer to her side. Tommy bursts into laughter at the display, and perhaps his breathlessness makes less oxygen go to his head because he grabs Philza's hand. He smiles at the man, dragging him along behind Tommy. Philza looks at Tommy, really looks at him, and Tommy's buzzing happiness stays with him as his laughter dials down to a huffing noise.

Philza catches up to Tommy, and the blonde releases Philza's hand. Tommy crosses his arms behind his back, staring up at Kristin, Techno, and Wilbur. They are whispering to each other. Tommy can see their smiles and twinkling eyes from their side profile. Even without knowing they were related, anyone could see they were family, in whatever sense of the word was most applicable. There was something beyond familiarity in the way they interacted with each other, and it was something Tommy still felt a panging longness for.

Philza opens his mouth, but his words are cut off by some strange rubbing noise. Tommy's balance slips away from him. He stumbles to the side. Philza grabs Tommy's elbow and his hand to steady the blonde. Tommy tries sending a grateful smile to Philza, but his attention is swiftly held by the throng of people running towards him. Tommy seizes, eyes widening in panic when he notices the terror in their eyes. Parents are dragging their children. Friends are clinging onto each other's clothes. The more selfish are pushing anyone down to get away as quickly as possible, and the kinder few rush to pick someone up with a roughness that can only be afforded in situations such as these ones. Tommy doesn't know what they're running from, but he knows instinctively that he should be running, too.

The Craft family does not have a similar idea. As Tommy twists his body to run, Philza's grip remains firm and unmoving. Techno is staring at the crowd like a statue. Kristin's eyes are toward the sky, and while Wilbur does look around, there isn't a trace of fear on his face. Tommy wants to scream at them, but the crowd is upon them too quickly for words to reach anyone's ears. Tommy feels wayward limbs strike into his body, each one pushing him further back. Tommy releases an unmanly noise as he grabs Philza's arm, dragging his person closer to Philza's steadfast form. People continue to batter at the both of them, but Tommy no longer feels like driftwood in a river with Philza at his side.

Tommy peers over the crowd. He tries catching a glimpse of Kristin, Techno, or Wilbur. He searches until he catches a flair of pink hair. Tommy follows the pink hair, and he finds a glossy black color and a warm brown color right next to it. Kristin, Wilbur, and Techno are entering a building across the street from the theater. Tommy watches Techno close the glass door back, his eyes stormy and dark as he turns to chase after his mother and brother. Their visages are gone in a matter of seconds, and Tommy has an awful feeling that he's being abandoned for some reason. At least, it's the same feeling he gets when former foster parents left him with his social worker.

"Come on!" Tommy screams over the thundering footsteps of the crowd and their panicked voices. The crowd is thinning, and the breathing is getting harsher. Tommy slides his hand down, finding Philza's hand. Tommy wraps his boney fingers around Philza's palm, and he starts dragging them through the final stretch of the crowd toward the building the other three have decided to hide out in. Honestly, it isn't bad to hide in a building. Tommy only wishes they would have made it more clear. If Tommy hadn't seen them, he and Philza would have been left on their lonesome with no way of knowing if they were swept away or if they were okay.

Strange noises begin to fill the air– some metallic and other more human-like– to replace the crowd. Tommy doesn't look over his shoulder, but as he gets to the glass door of the building, he sees streaks of color flashing across the sky. Tommy pushes the door open with his shoulder. He steps into the dark lobby, staring out across tightly packed cubicles. A few computers are left on standby, and Tommy skims over some inspirational posters on the wall. An office space of some kind, but Tommy doesn't know nor care about the purposes of the office.

"Tommy–" Philza's voice is jerky as he slams his body into Tommy's, sending them both crashing against the carpet in the space between some cubicles. Tommy knows the reason why a second later when a loud noise thunders directly inside the building. Glass shatters across Tommy's covered legs, some of them tearing into his denim jeans. As the building breaks around them, a flickering fire accompanies a dark smoke that infiltrates the room, spreading its gray hands all over the place.

Tommy pushes himself onto his arms, the skin of his palms itching from the rough texture of the carpet. Tommy coughs, and he hurries to lift the collar of his hoodie over the lower half of his face, providing him with minimal protection. Tommy looks around him quickly. He winces when he sees drops of blood staining the carpet. He prays it is only the glass making shallow cuts in Tommy's and Philza's legs as he grabs Philza's shoulders. The man is conscious, but he isn't moving fast enough for Tommy's liking. The fire from the flaming boulder (a piece of a building?) is spreading out across the carpet and the wallpaper. Philza is too close to the flames and the source of the smoke, so Tommy tries pulling him across the room. While Tommy's training has paid off, the unfiltered air makes his eyes blur with tears.

When Philza is as far away as Tommy can get him, the blonde rushes to his feet. He starts looking around the office space, not trying to cause damage but uncaring if he does. Tommy looks around for where Kristin, Wilbur, and Techno could have hid. There is a break home devoid of people, and while the supply closet has more than enough hiding places, Tommy can't find anyone there. He frowns, holding back another coughing fit as he enters the main room again.

Philza is on his feet, also looking around. Tommy calls out for him, and Philza looks over his shoulder at Tommy. Tommy begins pointing upwards, gesturing to the upper floor. Philza gets close, his arms reaching out to grab Tommy's shoulders. Tommy tries covering Philza's mouth, but the blonde shakes his head. "We can't. This floor is going up in flames, Toms. The floors above us will be destabilized. It's going to come down on us if we stay here, and we're going to fall with it if we're up there."

"Your family is up there!" Tommy nearly shouts, his voice scraping against his throat. Tommy feels a strange anger swirl inside his body as he stares into Philza's eyes, the color dimmed by the smoke whirling between their bodies. Tommy keeps his attention there as he shakes his head. "I'll look upstairs. You can look outside."

"You aren't going alone," Philza swears, his eyebrows furrowing to give a dangerous slant to his eyes. Tommy feels like he's being scolded, and it feeds fuel into the anger inside his heart.

"Fuck off! Someone has to find them-"

"Tommy-"

The building rumbles as if to argue with them. Tommy's eyes widen. Philza grits his teeth. He reaches his arms out, wrapping them around Tommy's body. He shoves Tommy's face into his shoulder. Philza and Tommy drop down onto their knees. The building grows increasingly louder, groaning and thundering, and Tommy holds Philza as tightly as the man is holding him. Something sizzles like an arrow from a bow. Even though Tommy's eyes are firmly shut, the world somehow gets darker as the noises grow louder and closer. They settle near Tommy, coughing groans growing weaker as dust bursts across the small space alongside the choking smoke. Tommy presses his lips together. He tries not to breathe through his nose, especially as the smell is stained with an iron scent.

The building grows quiet like an unconscious man. Tommy peeks his eyes open, met with complete blackness. Tommy feels more panic, and his breaths stutter in his chest. The blackness takes on an odd hue, shifting as if they were living muscles, and Tommy almost sees a feather-like shape grow distinct from the rest of the darkness. It doesn't last long, as the shapes fade into the shadows. The space around Tommy minutely brightens enough for him to see. Tommy squints his eyes, feeling his mind slowly trickle back into body.

He jerks back suddenly. Philza's arms are still wrapped around Tommy, holding him in a vice-like grip. Tommy stares at Philza, ash-colored tears appearing in the corner of his eyes. Philza is looking away from Tommy, his attention grasped on the tight bubble the two of them have found themselves in. The debris is stacked precariously as if one gentle breeze would make the entire thing crumple. Strangely, the pocket is an almost perfect dome, different parts of the walls and overhang molding into a spherical shape. Tommy would marvel at it longer if he didn't feel Philza's wounds. There are some burns along his arms, cuts in his legs, and a particularly nasty piece of debris that cleanly sliced through his back between his shoulder-blades. Philza's heart beats irregularly, and Tommy feels guilt swarm inside his body. They're in this building because of Tommy. They didn't leave because of his stubbornness. Philza is hurt because he was protecting Tommy.

"I-I'm sorry." His voice is pathetic in his own ears. Soft, small, feeble, and weak like a rabbit held in the jaws of a ravenous wolf. Tommy winces. The only times he's ever sounded like this was when he was pleading for his life. He wasn't even this unmanageable when pleading for Wilbur's life, but then again, that could have been because Wilbur gave him strength. No one was giving strength to Tommy now, and it made him feel uncertain, his compass pointing steadfastly towards guilt.

"It isn't your fault. You didn't make the building come down, and you only wanted to find and help our family. I can't be mad at you for that," Philza tells Tommy, a cool smile on his face that reassures Tommy effortlessly. Tommy noticed how dependable Philza was in a bunch of little ways, but he's being faced with the simple fact right in front of his eyes. It makes Tommy want to leave all of this to Philza, to curl up into his chest and sleep away the nightmare around them.

Tommy would like to pay more attention to Philza's expression and his words, but Tommy's powers thunder relentlessly against the sides of his body. Tommy brings his arms closer to him, storing them in the small space between his and Philza's chest. Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, indecision flavoring his mind. Philza looks away for a brief second to stare at something in Tommy's peripheral, but his attention is back on Tommy by the time as the energy to say, "You're important to Wilbur and Techno."

A simple truth. One that doesn't include the fact that those two are important to Tommy. One that doesn't include that Philza is important to Tommy. One that doesn't include the fact that Tommy doesn't want Philza to die.

Tommy presses the palms of his hands against Philza's chest. His powers rush from his skin. The small alcove is filled with golden light, illuminating Philza's face and casting long shadows to accentuate his features. The light traverses the air in twisting ribbons, wrapping around and being absorbed into each of the wounds. When the most important ones are washed away, the light spins in curls toward Philza's chest. The man lifts his hand, watching a wound disappear. His eyes are strangely blank as he murmurs a solemn  "Oh."

"Please don't tell anyone. I don't want to be slave, not for heroes or villains or vigilantes or fuck know what else is out there," Tommy begs, his fingers curling into fists against Philza's shirt. Tommy pulls gently. The shirt is stained with blood, but Tommy doesn't sense any wounds anymore. For the moment, Philza is back to full health, though the smoke lingering in the air doesn't keep that number compact for long.

"Shh... I won't tell anyone. I promise," Philza whispers. Philza leans forward, and he presses a kiss to Tommy's forehead. It reminds Tommy of Wilbur, of the odd words he spoke before pushing Tommy into a teleport. Tommy doesn't say anything as Philza leans back again, eyes brighter with alertness. "Now, how are we going to get out of this one...?"

"No fucking clue. I can keep healing you for a while, but I can't heal myself. I'll die long before you do," Tommy responds at a hushed volume, a macabre tone coating his words like rust on iron. Tommy shudders to himself. He's never thought about ways he wanted to die, but he knows that he doesn't want to die like this. It is dark and cramped like that damn closet. The only thing that could make it worse was if water began flooding the place.

"Hey!" Philza's voice is sharp and commanding, unspooling the tight coil of fear in Tommy's stomach. "That isn't going to happen. No one is dying. We just need to wait for someone to help us."

Philza pulls Tommy closer. They huddle close together. Tommy keeps his head on Philza's chest, hearing the heartbeat that has been beating against his fingertips since he met up with the Craft family to watch a movie. Tommy closes his eyes, but Philza rubs Tommy's arm with a strange roughness. Tommy looks up at Philza, and the man starts talking about the movie they watched earlier. Tommy hardly understands at first, but their conversations spiral from there into a variety of subjects. When a beat of silence seems to approach them, Philza quickly switches gears. His eyes are alert and his body tense, but he doesn't stop talking to Tommy for a single moment. Under different circumstances, Tommy's heart would have leaped with joy at someone wanting to listen to him for so long. The attention would have fed Tommy like sunlight across the leaves of a plant. The darkness and ashy-iron smell in the air chokes any happiness Tommy might have felt.

The rubble begins to shift. Philza's head jerks up. A couple of rocks fall to the torn carpet at Philza's feet. The debris shifts to their side, and Tommy squeaks unhelpfully. Philza's expression grows sterner, something dark lingering a touch too long in his eyes. These are scrubbed away as he looks back down at Tommy. Philza lifts a hand, putting it on the side of Tommy's face. He smiles, gently, and for some reason, it reminds Tommy of the smile one of his foster parents wore as they were putting down their old, sick dog. "I need you to close your eyes for a moment, Tommy. I promise that you'll be fine. I just need you to close them for a moment. Can you do that for me?"

Tommy should say something. He should argue and fight. He should tell Philza off. He should, but he doesn't. He closes his eyes because he trusts Philza. If the man knows a way to get them out of here but doesn't want Tommy to see, Tommy will understand. If Philza is going to kill Tommy here and now, Tommy prefers it to suffocation or drowning. No matter what happens, Tommy, foolishly and recklessly and carelessly, trusts Philza. Tommy trusts Philza to do whatever he needs to do, whether this will be in aid of Tommy's life or death. No matter what Philza does, Tommy will accept it like salvation.

In the darkness of Tommy's vision, he sees a pale green color glow on the other side of his eyelids. Tommy watches the light grow brighter and stronger, spreading out to cover the entirety of the space in front of Tommy's closed eyes. Tommy opens his mouth to question this, to ask Philza what's going on, but he feels his limbs slacken immediately. His thoughts rise and fall like the tides until they are finally brought back so far that Tommy is left falling unconscious without even realizing it.

When Tommy's eyes flutter open, he is hanging off someone's back. They are holding the underside of his knees, and his arms are loosely flung over their shoulders. Tommy can feel their heartbeat first, and the sound of their hurried breaths flies into his mind next. From the sound of their breathing and the movement of their body along with the blurry buildings passing by in quick succession, Tommy concludes that they are running. Tommy doesn't know the purpose, and he doesn't get time to think about it too thoroughly as a cough breaks through the basic observations of his mind. The pain jolts throughout his entire body.

Movement rumbles underneath the spine of the body Tommy is leaning against. The voice comes a second later, registering in Tommy's ears underneath the influence of a secret charm. "Are you finally awake?"

Tommy recognizes the voice. It's Salamander, the vigilante Tommy has a complex relationship with. Tommy doesn't think they're particularly friendly with each other, but the vigilante is currently giving Tommy a piggy-back ride. Tommy doesn't know the reason why until he remembers what was happening before he accidentally fell unconscious. Tommy startles, begging to know with a scratchy voice, "Where's Philza?"

"The person you were with stayed behind. He told me to take you away from the fight," Salamander answers slowly, adjusting Tommy's weight now that the blonde is awake and gripping Salamander's shoulders tightly.

"What the fuck?! You have to take me back! Right now, damnit! Would you- just- fuck- shit- Salamander, we have to- hey!" Tommy starts kicking and pushing, trying to turn Salamander around like Tommy is riding a horse and not a vigilante. Salamander hisses at a particularly energized hit to his jaw. Salamander stops inside of an alleyway, looking around as he drops Tommy's knees. The blonde stumbles off Salamander's back. Salamander continues to look around, each distant noise making him jerk his head around. Tommy ignores his cautiousness. He turns to get closer to the noises, the same direction Salamander was running from.

The vigilante stands in front of Tommy. Even though his outfit doesn't do anything to make him look intimidating, a literal fire begins shining in his eyes as he stares at Tommy. The blonde snarls at Salamander. The two of them glare at each other, tension as taut as a pulled bowstring lingering around them. Tommy's fingers curl into fists, and the air smolders around Salamander's body. "The heroes are currently fighting the Binary Killer over there. They are giving it everything they've got. Half the city will be destroyed before any of them stop. You need to evacuate like everyone else."

"I will, dammit! I don't want to die. I just need to get Philza and the others back before I can leave," Tommy hisses. He doesn't want anything to do with the heroes or the Binary Killer. Even if Walter Crondale didn't complain about the hero's collateral damage streak, Tommy has seen buildings leveled before. The heroes don't care as long as they get their enemy. The Federation will clean up any mess they make. From the sounds Tommy is hearing now, the Binary Killer doesn't care about the destruction it's causing, either.

"They will be fine. There are other vigilantes in the area that are rescuing civilians. I think I saw a hero trying to help while I was running over," Salamander explains. During his last statement, his anger ebbs away enough to reveal a tint of curiosity, but Salamander's eyes only glow with an unnatural flame.

"Do I look like I give a fuck? A couple of vigilantes and a single hero doesn't mean that Philza and the others are going to be rescued!" Tommy yells, drawing Salamander's ire back onto him. If any of the Crafts are hurt, no one will be able to help them in the way Tommy can. If they are on the brink of death, who is going to bring them back except for Tommy? They could die, and the thought is enough to make Tommy shiver from chilly fear instead of sweat underneath the heat of Salamander's unflinching stare. Tommy will fight Salamander if he has to.

"Tommy," Another voice calls out from behind him. Salamander's eyes widen, the flame being doused immediately. Tommy turns around. Nemesis steps out of the shadows. Her suit– the one Tommy made for her– is covered in dust and spots of blood. She has a few shallow wounds on her body, so Tommy images the majority of the blood isn't hers. She puts her daggers up, looking at Tommy seriously. She doesn't even acknowledge Salamander as her hand reaches out, grabbing Tommy's wrist. "Come with me."

Tommy jerks his hand out of her grasp. He decides to plead with Nemesis, hoping she'll help him again like she did when the Syndicate had kidnapped Wilbur. "I need your help. My friends are still out there. I was trapped under a building with one of them, and I-"

"No," Nemesis cuts him off. She gestures away from her. As if on cue, a loud, thunderous noise echoes far too close for comfort. Tommy flinches. Nemesis' expression hardens. Salamander makes a weirdly inhuman noise. Nemesis grabs Tommy's wrist again, her grip tight enough that he can't shake it off but not tight enough to hurt. "Your family is going to be fine."

"They aren't my-"

"I will find your family once I've gotten you to safety," Nemesis responds, appealing to Tommy's reasoning skills.

"Swear it," Tommy demands. He feels horrible about this, especially since he has never once been in favor of the debt system. He pushes that feeling away. This isn't about Tommy. This is about Philza, Kristin, Techno, and Wilbur. Tommy still isn't quite sure if they're his family, but they sure as hell are important to him. He can't let them die. He refuses to let them die, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to ensure their lives, even bargain with devils and test the endurance of the debt system.

"I promise to find your family once I have gotten you to safety," Nemesis promises, her words sure and her eyes alight with determination. Tommy nods. Nemesis sighs in relief. She starts pulling him away, her feet quick and her grip loosening.

"Nemesis," Salamander calls. Nemesis stops suddenly. Tommy tenses, looking over his shoulder. Nemesis stares straight ahead. Salamander looks toward the sky as he explains, "Take him to a clinic. He inhaled a lot of smoke."

"Understood," Nemesis responds, her voice stern and standing on the razor-thin line between apathy and hysteria.

She starts to move again, slowly and cautiously, but Salamander calls out. "I want to restart the game."

This makes her stop again. She whirls around, releasing Tommy's wrist. She takes several half-steps forward. She stares intently at him, and Salamander finally meets her eyes. He isn't angry in the least bit. He seems a little adrift, but he doesn't seem discontent with that. Nemesis' body grows tense as she asks, "Are you sure?"

"New information has been brought to light recently," Salamander gives a half-shrug. "I'm making this choice of my own volition, so I would appreciate it if you would help me out. Let's restart the game. Best two out of three, yeah?"

Nemesis smiles. Tommy feels a little like he's seen that smile somewhere before, but the secret charm gives him a headache before the thought can form completely. Nemesis nods at Salamander. She holds Tommy's hand, pulling him away. She and Tommy go one way, and Salamander goes in the opposite direction. Despite this, the connection between those two seems a little stronger than it was a moment before.

"What was that about?" Tommy asks.

"I'll tell you later," Nemesis tilts her head to the side. "Right now, we need to get you to a doctor."

"I can't go to a doctor. I have no paperwork, remember?" Tommy reminds her. Nemesis winces, looking away from Tommy. She hums to herself, looking at the street in front of them with uncertainty and intensity. While Nemesis tries coming up with a solution, Tommy tries coming up with one, too. He thinks over all the options he has. As he starts growing anxious, he remembers a new addition to the items in his pockets. He smiles wanly at Nemesis, "Is Supreme still in Las Nevadas?"