5
Tommy stands at his desk, leaning over the edge. His head is positioned right beside the bent lamp. His hands are lost in the thick fabric of the article of clothing he's holding. The radio plays a recent segment recorded from a local comedy club. His shoulder throbs dully, but he doesn't worry about it. The pain will soon disappear entirely. This isn't the worst injury Tommy has ever sustained. It isn't even the worst one he's continued working while harboring. Tommy's focus is entirely on the clothing against his fingertips.
He is dimly aware of another person appearing inside the room with him. He casts a glance over his shoulder, frowning when he notices Phantasm looking out of the window near Tommy's pallet that overlooks the street outside. Tommy turns back to his project. Phantasm does whatever he wants anyway, regardless if Tommy is pretending to supervise him or not.
"Did you miss me?" Phantasm asks like he's about to sing a song. Phantasm disappeared a few days ago. The radio is the only reason Tommy knew Phantasm was still alive. Apparently, there was some dangerous gamble the Syndicate decided to take. For all intents and purposes, it looks like the Syndicate were able to win. Tommy didn't bother with the details, but he did pay attention when the radio host complained about the Syndicate only sustaining minor injuries. Unless Phantasm was purposefully left out of that report, Tommy thought he was safe to assume Phantasm was fine. Right now, Phantasm does not have any injuries, though there are faint bloodstains on his suit. Tommy is unable to determine if the blood belongs to Phantasm or to another person.
In lieu of an answer, Tommy glares at Phantasm from the corner of his eye. He snips at a loose thread with only half his attention on it. Tommy doesn't need to check to know that he has done right, so he keeps his glare steady. Phantasm responds by laughing under his breath, his green eyes glowing brighter when he takes languid steps towards Tommy. "You, my friend, are becoming far too comfortable around me."
There is a threat in those words even when Phantasm keeps his tone light. Even if he was threatening Tommy, the blonde rolls his eyes, letting them land back at the task in his hands. "I have, at least, a few minutes more since I'm almost fucking done with your damn suit."
"You always know exactly what to say to make me happy," Phantasm chirps, folding his arms behind his back as he leans forward. Tommy gives the villain another glance, but Phantasm doesn't seem inclined to act on his impulses. He watches Tommy with an observant expression. His smile slowly drops away. Tommy knows the feeling of being stared at like the back of his hand. Tommy grimaces, reaching over to grab another spool of thread. Phantasm has always been like this. His emotions change as quickly as the wind does- from amusement to anger to this unnerving quiet in a matter of seconds. Tommy is accustomed to it because it is familiar. Most foster kids and parents were unable to hold back their emotions. It is the fact Phantasm doesn't have a good grasp of his emotions that upsets Tommy's mind. Phantasm is dangerous and powerful. The only decent consequence of this fact is that Tommy can switch him from a negative emotion to a positive one fairly quickly, but the same could be said for the reverse.
"Why are you favoring one side?" Phantasm asks, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts. Tommy stops moving for a second. He turns his attention to Phantasm. The villain is raising an eyebrow with an unreadable expression in his eyes. He is not frowning or smiling, an odd detail considering how often Phantasm does both. He is genuinely asking, and he expects an answer from Tommy. He wants to know, and that stupefies Tommy more than Phantasm's expression does.
"The city is a fucking rat's nest," Tommy murmurs, pulling down his shirt to show the bandage from the wound he got the previous night. He has spent the entire time laying off of it, but once the other tailors left, Tommy unwound all his restless energy by throwing himself into his work on Phantasm's suit.
"Why didn't you heal yourself?" Phantasm frowns. He sounds upset. Tommy stifles a cruel laugh. It irks him how a villain that could kill him in a second and definitely would if Tommy said the wrong thing would show more care for him than most people in his life. Wilbur seemed to show some level of concern, and Madeleine had told him to stay off his shoulder, so Tommy supposes they both care, too. But none of them are obligated to do that. Wilbur is a stranger. Madeleine is his boss. Phantasm is... something to Tommy. These facts don't lend well into mutual care. But it does in this case when Tommy knows his old foster parents or the group homes he's been in wouldn't have cared. Those places probably would have been the cause of his pain.
"I can't," Tommy admits. It is a lot easier to say than Tommy thought it would be. He's spent his entire life suppressing his powers, so he's never told anyone about their limitations. He doesn't even know all of his limitations. But he knows this one. It was the first reason he started hating his powers. Tommy probably would have been a little more eager to tell other people about his powers if he could just heal himself, but he can't. Tommy looks down at his hand, calling forth his power. His hand glows, but it finds no injury to heal even when Tommy's shoulder starts throbbing a little more harshly at the excessive movement. "I can fucking heal anyone. Anyone but me."
"Why is that?" Phantasm asks, another genuine question to follow up the last. Tommy closes his hand into a fist. He pushes down his power when it serves no purpose other than to remind him that he is the exception. He uses his hands to work on the suit in front of him, something he can actually do.
Tommy doesn't know why he is, so he doesn't answer Phantasm. The villain takes this a cue to keep talking instead of leaning into the silence like Tommy wants to. "You know, that does bring up the question, why does anyone's powers work the way they do?" Phantasm pauses. "Why do people have powers in the first place?"
"You have theories," Tommy retorts dryly, voicing what should have been a question but came out as a statement. Serenade does seem like the type to have theories, and his tone reminds Tommy of the conspiracy theorists who sometimes appear on his radio. Tommy looks up at the metal machine. It is still playing the quiet tunes of some artist's new song. It is so faint Tommy doesn't recognize the lyrics. He thinks it is a sad song, though.
"That I do," Phantasm answers with a smile cutting across his face. He walks to Tommy, phasing through the machine attached to Tommy's desk. Phantasm leans forward, attempting to look Tommy in the eyes even when the blonde is focusing. "I believe powers are a reflection of the people who have them. They are the manifestations of the person's personality and ideals."
"I disagree," Tommy murmurs. He feels Phantasm's stare locate a spot on the back of his neck. Phantasm makes a soft questioning noise, showing his blatant interest. Tommy doesn't look up as he continues, "Powers are born from a person's desires."
"Do you have proof?" Phantasm prods. Tommy sighs, sitting back. He finally looks at Phantasm. The villain's smile shrinks. Tommy wonders what his expression looks like right now.
"My powers are healing, yes? It comes from my desire to be important and necessary to someone. I haven't seen much of Shadow Girl, but from what I can tell and my research, she is an individual who hides a lot. She likes doing that- hiding and disappearing- but her powers let her take other people with her. She wants to hide, but she also wants someone to hide with her," Tommy explains. It was Shadow Girl's appearance that made Tommy realize the depth of his long-standing theory about powers. She was exactly like the shadows that swathed around her in temperament until Tommy gave her attention. It was there that she lit up.
"What do my powers mean, then?" Phantasm asks, pointing at his face. Tommy turns back to his work. He shouldn't have brought this up to Phantasm. He doesn't actually have much proof of it, and he doesn't want to analyze Phantasm's theories to apply his theory to it. "Humor me. I won't do anything no matter how you answer."
Tommy hides his face in his work as he murmurs, "I don't fucking know. You want to be someone else or some shit."
Phantasm laughs. Tommy refuses to meet the villain's eyes. Phantasm lifts a hand up to run it through Tommy's hair. The blonde stiffens, almost dropping the needle he is holding. He keeps the needle between his fingers. He keeps working as Phantasm assures Tommy, "It isn't that."
"Well, I guess I'll never fucking know," Tommy responds, smiling ruefully. He has thought about his powers for the majority of his life. He has questioned why he's gotten them for a long time. He's never gotten an answer. The universe rarely informs him why it does anything. Tommy has finally stopped asking himself, but Phantasm has this odd way of dredging up every unseemly detail Tommy tries to hide about himself. His powers are a big point, obviously, but Phantasm also puts Tommy back into that dark, small space. Phantasm reminds Tommy why he wanted a family in the first place with his kind touches, and he reminds Tommy why he shouldn't want one with his glowing stares.
"You should expand your sample pull," Phantasm advises Tommy. The villain is completely serious when he speaks like he fully expects Tommy to start pursuing the question of why people have powers.
Tommy huffs a laugh underneath his breath. "Never going to happen, Big Man. I don't want to meet any other hero or villain. I'll fucking make sure I don't."
"Ah, that is a fair point. Considering your condition, it would be safer if you did not go to such lengths to ponder one of the city's greatest mysteries," Phantasm nods, seeing the value in Tommy's argument. "What about this? You could try investigating the debt system. Many people, including myself, have taken on the challenge. No one has gotten any results yet, but there are many possibilities with some level of credibility. You can try your hand at understanding the truth. Even if you do not achieve it, your journey could be the key to someone else's path to realization."
"Oh, fuck off. I don't give a shit about the debt system. I keep away from that mystical bullshit," Tommy tells Phantasm, rolling his eyes. He viscerally hates the debt system. It has been the source of a lot of his recent problems. By saving Phantasm's life, the villain owed Tommy a debt. He repaid it by sparing Tommy's life, but this drew Phantasm into Tommy's orbit, if only temporarily. This debt system has also gotten Tommy entangled in a complete stranger. Wilbur rescued Tommy from a shooter at the convenience store. This has put Tommy on the other end of a life debt, and he doesn't like the cold feeling settling in his stomach at the thought of unfinished business.
"Those are plenty of strong emotions," Phantasm notes, tucking his chin on his palm. His fingers wrap around his cheek. "Well, if not powers or the debt system, you could look into the origins and purpose of hybrids. That is just the sort of controversial subject I am sure you would love."
"I'm done," Tommy pipes up, hoping to get Phantasm to shut up about research topics. Tommy is not a college student talking to his professor about what his final essay should be about. He is a simple tailor that prefers keeping his head down and his body out of the limelight.
Tommy stills when he realizes what he just said. He's finished. He looks down at his hands. He double checks, but he finds no flaws in his work. A slow grin spreads across his face. He meets Phantasm's eyes. The villain is tilting his head toward Tommy with a grin spreading across his face.
"There is a bathroom over there," Tommy tells Phantasm, vaguely gesturing with one hand while shoving the clothing into Phantasm's arms. He needs to see the suit on Phantasm. He needs to know if it looks stupid or if he had one of the measurements incorrect. He also wants to see the fruit of his labors, but he isn't about to tell Phantasm any of that.
The villain has a quick reaction time. He manages to catch all of the objects thrusted into his arms including the boots Tommy enhanced using the phantom membranes and Netherite. Phantasm's smile grows softer as he holds it close. Tommy stares at Phantasm expectedly. His eyes go wide. He closes his hands into fists, shaking them as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet. Phantasm laughs lightly as he finally goes to the bathroom. Tommy waits impatiently.
After an agonizing amount of time, Phantasm finally steps out of the bathroom. He wears a black coat with a high collar that curls around his chin. As the coat travels down from his waist to his knees, it fades from black to a very dark blue with an ombre effect most similar to spray paint with just a little more cleanliness in the lines. Underneath the coat, he wears a long-sleeved dark blue shirt that matches the end of his coat and black pants. There are black pieces of armor cut out and sewn into the shirt and pants, each one stylized geometric shapes and a distinct silver sheen on the edges like a knife's blade. There are more dark metal pieces on his black gloves and boots, made to enhance his punches and kicks. If he isn't in the mood to use his body as the weapon, Tommy has put several belts on the outfit. Each belt is made with a black material and held together by a silver hook-like clasp. There is one around his waist designed to hold potions. There is one around his thigh and one around his upper arm, both with sheaths for a knife or dagger. In addition to these obvious places for weaponry, Tommy has hidden a few more pockets around the outfit to store away objects. The final touch was the mask. Tommy poured the secret charm into the fabric that draped around Phantasm's eyes. The holes in the mask did their job of accentuating Phantasm's glowing eyes, making them scarier than they were before- a near impossible feat.
"I can't fucking believe it... I did it. I fucking did that! Shit, man! I made that!" Tommy exclaims, joy radiating as warmth across his face. His heart beats erratically in his chest as he celebrates what feels like a profound victory. Tommy doesn't particularly like Phantasm. He didn't want to make the villain look scarier. But he did because it was his job. He did, and now Phantasm looks so cool. He looks way better than he did wearing that other suit. Tommy doesn't like that he made such a cool outfit for Phantasm, but that doesn't stop him from enjoying the way it looks on the villain. Tommy is honestly a tad excited as he thinks about what other people will think. Will the heroes even recognize Phantasm now that he's in a new outfit? Will the other Syndicate members leave Tommy alone since he did them a favor by making Phantasm look impressive? While Tommy doesn't want people wondering where the outfit came from and coming to him for their orders, he does want to know what the first thought in their mind will be when they see Phantasm's new outfit.
"You've really captured my essence," Phantasm murmurs to himself, moving his arms around. He takes a few careful steps. On the last step, he slides his foot forward and to the side. He waves his arms around in a flourishing pose. The jacket flares out, revealing the navy blue undertones. Phantasm continues moving around the room in some odd dance. Tommy watches, just as raptured by the fluid movements as he is by the suit he made. Phantasm begins implementing his powers. He fades from view. The outfit follows his lead. It fades from vision. It also easily cuts through mundane objects when Phantasm phases through them. Nothing is lost as he finally lands into a graceful bow in front of Tommy. The villain stands up, reaching a hand out to Tommy. With the smile on his face and the crinkle in his eyes, Tommy realizes Phantasm is asking Tommy to join him in his dancing. Swept up in the atmosphere, Tommy almost grabs the hand offered to him.
Almost because Tommy realizes something. Phantasm was just practicing with his powers, making sure the suit responded as it should. The only power he didn't test was possession. Tommy stops his hand as it hovers above Phantasm's. His smile drops away. The cold flushes through him, chasing away the remnants of his joyous heat. Tommy takes a half-step back. He draws his hand back to his chest. He stares at Phantasm, waiting for the villain to take over his mind.
Tommy hears a gunshot ringing in his ears, a faint trace of static over it as the station tries to shut the broadcast down.
Phantasm's own smile stiffens. His eyes harden, glowing still but not with a positive emotion. Phantasm drops his hand away. He lets them both hang at his sides. Phantasm breathes in deeply, turning translucent to blur his expression. Phantasm's voice sounds wispy as it comes out, "Don't worry. I won't possess you." Phantasm's smile sharpens a little. "I'll go possess someone else."
Tommy shoves his hands over his ears. He chooses ignorance. He doesn't know who Phantasm is going to possess. He didn't encourage this behavior. He isn't trading his free will for someone else's. He doesn't know any of this, so he can't be held responsible for it.
Tommy feels a hand in his hair. He opens up his eyes without lowering his hands. He meets Phantasm's eyes. The villain is smiling rather softly at Tommy. It is strange, and it shocks Tommy enough that he allows Phantasm to wrap his fingers around Tommy's wrists. The villain tugs Tommy's hands away from his ears. Tommy sucks in a tight breath when he is able to hear Phantasm's breathing and the radio on the windowsill over his heartbeat. Phantasm keeps his hands around Tommy's wrists as he speaks. "I am going to be setting up a private account for you. I will put the money I owe you for the suit in the account. I am sure you will prefer this over me sending you the credits here and now."
Tommy's nose scrunches. He does prefer not having the credits issued to him through their communicators. It would raise questions with his case worker if he suddenly came into money from an unknown source. Where his case worker was involved, the authorities would soon be. Tommy didn't want that. But also... "I'm not fucking billing you, Phantasm, that's-"
"Would you rather I owe you a favor?" Phantasm asks, raising an eyebrow with a near-pleasant hum. He starts rubbing the inside of Tommy's wrist with his thumbs. It is a distracting gesture but not entirely an unwelcome one.
"Thank you for the private account," Tommy answers. He doesn't want to owe anyone anything or be owed in return. Tommy is hoping to separate himself from this world that he accidentally stumbled into when Phantasm was foolish enough to get stabbed in an alleyway.
Phantasm smiles humorously. He steps away from Tommy. He releases Tommy's wrists after dragging his arms out. Phantasm's eyes dim considerably as he disappears from Tommy's sight. After a second, the warmth around Tommy's wrists is gone. The feeling of someone being around him disappears just as suddenly. Phantasm is gone. His suit and all the damning evidence is gone with him. Tommy is alone. A loneliness settles in his chest like standing in a theater after the curtains have been shut, the darkness encroaching and the silence deafening and the kenopsia eats at his heart.
Tommy shakes his head. He reminds himself who Phantasm is and everything Tommy stands to lose associating with him. Relief thunders through Tommy's body moments after it was meant to, but at least it is there. Tommy clings to that relief. Despite his initial misgivings, he is glad this part of his life is now over...
... he chooses to ignore that he owes Wilbur a life debt and that Shadow Girl will probably want a costume for herself soon.
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