Tommy slowly opens his eyes. The morning sun falls across his eyes, making him wince the moment his eyes are halfway open. He stretches his limbs as best as he can from his lying position. He allows a yawn to stretch his jaw muscles open. He feels a small ache in the muscles, but he feels significantly better when he closes his mouth. He forces his eyes to open a little wider. It is now that he notices a strange feeling across his forehead. His skin feels cool and damp, a negligible weight across the surface. Tommy tries looking up at his forehead. He is only able to catch the edge of a gray rag. When Tommy looks around once more, he finds someone sitting beside the blankets he spread out across the floor.

Nymph pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting the hair slip across the side of her fingers until she's done. Her hand drops away to pick up the gray rag. Tommy hisses to himself as cold air rushes to take the place against his forehead. Nymph turns her attention away from for a moment to set the rag down into a bowl right beside the pillow where Tommy is lying. She lifts the rag back out of the water, wringing out the material. She unfurls the rag, tying it into a rectangle the perfect size of his forehead. She sets the rag back down on his forehead.

Tommy blinks, narrowing his eyes at her as if he could decipher her actions with only his senses. Nymph meets his eyes, raising an eyebrow at him. She smoothes out the rag, her fingers light as she presses against the material. Tommy finds his voice. He ignores the scratchiness of it as he tries to wake his larynx up. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"My original intention was to repay the favor. You had given yourself a fever with your excessive healing," Nymph explains to him, lifting her arms up to cross them over her knees. She rocks forward, lifting up off her heels to stare intently at Tommy. "I quickly realized that while my gesture can be interpreted as kind, it is a far cry from saving someone from freezing to death. I continued to help you regardless of whether or not it made us even."

Tommy pushes his heels against the floor underneath him. He rockets forward, sitting up. The rag falls off his forehead. Tommy catches it. The damp material makes a squelching noise as it lands in his awaiting palm. Tommy closes his fingers around the rag. He squeezes, feeling rivulets of water slide down his forearm. "You can repay the favor by leaving me the fuck alone... and going back to helping people. That's why I healed you."

"I can't actually do that right now," Nymph explains solemnly. She raises her palm to Tommy's forearm. The water droplets running across his skin momentarily stop. Nymph's eyebrows furrow together as the droplets slowly rose. Nymph sighs quietly, letting her arm drop against her knee. The water droplets continue their path down Tommy's arm. Nymph gives Tommy a tired smile. "My ability to manipulate water is severely weakened by the ice still inside my body."

Tommy frowns. He reaches his hand towards Nymph. He can feel her heartbeat against the inside of his fingers, a lot stronger than it was last night. There is also an undercurrent of something in her body. It sends an odd chill down Tommy's spine. The cold temperature is unlike anything he's ever felt before, but it is undeniably there. His spirit feels as cold as his body did when he stuck in that alleyway with Wraith, fearing that she would have his head. Tommy doesn't want to imagine how Nymph must be feeling right now.

He tries healing her. The moment the light forms around his fingers, Nymph's hand reaches out to grab his wrist. She squeezes gently, but it is enough of a surprise to short-circuit Tommy's ability to maintain the healing light. He glances into her eyes, wondering what she's doing. Nymph gives him an understanding smile. "You are going to overexert yourself if you keep using your powers right now. You spent most of the night healing me, after all."

Tommy sighs, trying to test his powers for himself. He has a small reserve of the light building back up in his body. The light yearns to be set free, but with such a little amount, Tommy is going to hurt himself. He feels bad, though, and Nymph must sense that because she laughs light-heartedly. "At this stage, the ice will go away on its own. My powers will be returned to me in their entirety in a few days time at most."

"It doesn't feel right leaving someone half-healed," Tommy admits. When he's staring right at her, he can sense the ice inside of her system cutting into her body. He's always had a weakness for helping the people who are hurt right in front of him, when they are impossible to ignore.

Nymph laughs again, leaning her cheek against the palm of her hand. "If that is your worry, I can stay here until you are up for healing again."

"Not fucking possible. The other tailors will be here any moment, and they are definitely not as accepting as I am towards vigilantes as I am," Tommy explains, glancing back out the window. The sun is slow as it ascends the sky, but it is a warning all the same that Tommy needs to get up and prepare the second floor for when they will arrive. Madeleine always arrives first, and she acts as Tommy's second alarm clock. If Tommy is not ready by then, he has a few minutes at most to get that way.

"That poses a problem," Nymph admits sullenly. She stares intently at the air in front of her as she tries thinking up a solution. Tommy looks around for an answer. He bites the inside of his cheek, eventually letting his eyes landing on a rack of old clothes. His eyes find their way back to Nymph. He sizes her up slowly, trying to estimate her proportion even with the secret charm disorientating her basic features. He shrugs his shoulders, lifting himself up onto his feet. He darts across the room, picking out a collection of clothes. He throws them over his arm. He is even able to find a face mask in his search. He returns to Nymph's side. She makes a curious noise as she watches him, and the noise grows louder when he grabs her arm. He pulls Nymph onto her feet. As a vigilante, she is physically able to wretch herself from his grip, but she allows herself to be ushered across the room into the bathroom. Tommy pushes the clothes he gathered into her arms, closing the bathroom door.

As Nymph changes, Tommy darts around the second floor room. Luckily, Nymph's ailment did not include her bleeding out. All Tommy needs to do is organize his collection of pillows and blankets in the corner of the room. It is almost like he's making his bed. Tommy smiles wryly at the thought. He remembers one group home where making the bed was very important.

The door opens. Tommy whirls around, feeling like he's a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Thankfully, it is only Nymph stepping out of the bathroom. She is wearing a pair of black leggings that seem a little tight on her, but the tie-dye pink and orange hoodie is large enough that it completely engulfs her upper body, perfectly masking her body shape. She wears the black face mask Tommy gave her. With her hood lowered down, Tommy notices that the exact shade of brown her hair is. She also has blonde bangs that frame the sides of her face. She looks normal, honestly, and Tommy hopes it is enough to differentiate her from the title everyone else probably knows her by.

Tommy smiles at her, hearing the door open downstairs from Madeleine. Nymph's eyes widen, glancing down at the staircase. Tommy rushes to grab a pair of clothes. He switches places with Nymph. He throws on the new clothing. He glances at the bandage around his arm with a wince. He should probably change the bandage out, but he can't afford to waste a moment. He brushes his teeth, shoving a comb into his hair without actually brushing it. He gets out a few knots, calls it a win, and waltzes out of the bathroom. He slides on his socks across the room, landing haphazardly in his tailoring chair. The wheels of his chair kick into motion, sending him spinning. He would have gone across the room if not for Nymph standing right behind him. She places her hands on the back of his chair, stopping him from continuing. He smiles up at her, reaching his hand blindly for something on his desk. His fingers wrap around a cloth, and he begins his work.

"Good morning!" Someone chirps as they bound up the stairs. Tommy and Nymph share a look. The stage has been set. It's time they figure out what their roles are going to be.

The someone in question sits at their desk, completely unperturbed by the additional person in the room. The next tailor to rise up the stairs groans exhaustedly, walking past everyone without sparing a glance to get to the fridge in the corner. They start downing an energy drink immediately, giving enough time for a third person to come into the room. They frown as they come to the top step, making eye contact with Tommy. "Where's the radio?"

Tommy lifts up his seat to turn the radio on, switching to the closest station that isn't covered in a thick layer of static. As Tommy plops back down into his seat, a fourth voice is added to the mix, "Better question, who is that person behind you, Tommy?"

The others seem to finally take notice of another individual in the room. Tommy swallows thickly. Nymph takes this in stride, however. The skin around her eyes wrinkles with a smile as she gives them a friendly wave. "Hello, everyone! My name is Natalie."

Tommy's eyes widen. He whirls around to meet Nymph's eyes. She glances at him from the corner of her. She winks at him, subtly letting him know that she isn't using her real name. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't know what he would do with that kind of information. He would probably get himself killed. Nymph might be a vigilante who stands for the people, but there is hardly a scenario when someone finding out a secret identity doesn't lead to immediate death.

"Natalie is an old friend of mine. She is visiting for a little while," Tommy explains, deciding that would be the easiest lie. He will need to come up with the details of their lie with Nymph later, but he thinks this is okay for right now.

One of the tailors laughs, putting his arm on the back of his chair as he meets Tommy's eyes. "I didn't know you had any old friends, Tommy."

"Shut the fuck up. I have more friends than your sorry-ass," Tommy snaps, reaching up to turn the volume up on the radio so he doesn't have to listen to the snickering of his coworkers. Nymph's eyes narrow at Tommy, and he glares back at her. He sighs, looking away first to work at the material on his desk. Everyone else falls into silence as they get started with their tasks for the day. Nymph leans over Tommy's shoulder, watching his actions intently. After a little while, Tommy hands her a jacket that needs to be mended. He doesn't expect much, but Phantasm mentioned that most villains have to fix their own clothes. He assumes that vigilantes would be in much the same boat. He is proven right when Nymph starts to mend the tear without needing an explanation as to how it is done. She is actually pretty decent at it, so Tommy gives her all of the basic clothes that need a simple mending.

Tommy puts one of the dress shirts he was working on into the machine beside his desk. Nymph sets the pair of pants she had been working on aside as she stares at the machine. Tommy nods towards the electronic screen on the front of the machine. He taps a few of the keys, and the machine rumbles to life. Nymph, who had been leaning against the machine, scoots away, eyes wide in wonder. Tommy remembers his first experience with the machinery. He had been just as amazed by it all, so he doesn't mind showing Nymph the finished dress shirt. There is now a pattern sewn into the collar using blue thread.

Madeleine uses a number of machines to make her clothes shop the fastest at producing goods without compromising quality. Some of the machines help with mending and adjusting hems, but there are a few that help making clothing from raw materials according to Madeleine's or one of the other designer's plans. Tommy and the other tailor are the factory workers at the assembly line, working to produce the goods with maximum efficiency. Tommy knows that he'll never be one of the designers, mainly because his greatest design is for a supervillain, but also because Tommy has never shown an interest in it. He instead hopes that Madeleine will make him her successor and leave her business to him. He just has to hope she doesn't have any estranged family members that show up out of nowhere.

Tommy lets Nymph use one of the machines. Her eyes crinkle as a sign of her large smile as she taps the screen. The machine produces the desired effect, and Nymph holds the freshly embroidered shirt in her hands like she made the whole thing by herself. Tommy stifles a laugh at her amusement. He takes the shirt, hanging it up on the finished clothing rack. These will be brought downstairs later when Madeleine's courier arrives to deliver the clothes to their owners.

After a while of mending and embroidering with the machines- easy jobs Madeline has allotted to the still healing Tommy- one of the tailors declares that their lunch break is upon them. One of the tailors heads over to the refrigerator in order to get another drink, but she quickly joins the others as they all head downstairs. Tommy stretches as he stands, rubbing his shoulder thoughtfully. Nymph glances at him, eyes carrying a note of suspicion that could be curiosity. She asks, "Where do you go for lunch?"

Tommy has two places he usually goes for lunch. He will either go to the nearby convenience store to get a snack, or he'll head to the local food trucks. Since his usual store is still dealing with the aftereffects of being shot-up, Tommy decides to head to the food trucks. He tells Nymph as much. She nods appreciatively. "I go to the food trucks, too! I saved one of the guys lives there, and he's given me free food ever since. I don't think he'll be giving me free food now, though, since he might not recognize me out of uniform."

"It's fine. I'll pay," Tommy tells her, calculating internally how this is going to set him back. He stops calculating when he remembers that Phantasm paid him a lot of money for his suit. While Tommy isn't keen on blowing it all, he doesn't need to worry about paying for someone else's meal when they are going to a food truck. This won't be enough to put a dent in his new funds.

"You have to stop doing things for me," Nymph tells him as she starts descending the stairs. Tommy follows behind her, pressing his lips together. As someone who doesn't often do anything more than pass a drink to someone or turn up the radio at their request, he is entirely unused to the debt system that hangs over the island. He has saved two peoples lives. Someone else has saved his life. He's now paying for Nymph's food, something he's never done before and seems to be a bigger deal than he initially thought it would be. Just as he can feel the debt he owes Wilbur, Tommy can feel the favor Nymph owes him. It unnerves him. He feels like he's just discovered his powers. Feeling people's heartbeats when he concentrates on them was one of the weirdest things Tommy has ever experienced. He's used to it now, but the point remains standing.

"Tommy," Madeleine calls when Nymph opens the door for the two of them. Tommy turns around, meeting his boss's eyes. Madeleine stares at him for a long moment, her eyes somehow able to pierce through him. He feels like she can see all of his secrets. It is the same feeling he had when he first begged her for a job. She caved back then, her eyes softening much like they are doing right now. "Were you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Ah- yeah- yes, I mean. This is... Natalie. Natalie, this is my boss, Miss Madeleine," Tommy explains, gesturing towards the older woman. Madeleine hurries forward. She reaches her hand out. Nymph takes it, shaking the woman's hand with a kind look in her warm brown eyes. Tommy watches, swallowing thickly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Natalie. It is nice to know that Tommy has a friend. Though, I wish he would have told me about you sooner," Madeleine explains. Tommy's face flushes in embarrassment. He acknowledges that he is friendless, but he doesn't particularly like it when other people realize that fact, too. He especially doesn't like how they are telling all of this to Nymph. While they don't know they are talking to the vigilante, Tommy does. He doesn't want Nymph knowing this much about him.

"We... we had a falling out. That is probably why he hasn't told you about me," Nymph lies for him, but there is a strange look in her eyes as if she is thinking about another person she's had a falling out with. Nymph shakes herself out of it before the emotion consumes her. "I've come to make amends with my old friend."

"That's good. We should never stay angry at our friends for long," Madeleine agrees with a solemn nod. Madeleine waves them away. "You two go get your lunch. Oh, and Natalie, you are welcome to stay for as long as you need. I know that foster kids have it rough out there."

Tommy winces. Madeleine knows that Tommy spent his entire life in the foster system, not even going to a normal school. It would be easy to assume that his old friend 'Natalie' must also be a foster kid because where else would Tommy have met her? Tommy feels like this conversation is telling Nymph too much information about him.

"Thank you, Miss Madeleine," Nymph says, nodding along without informing the woman that she isn't a foster kid. Tommy ducks his head, walking out of the store without waiting for Nymph. He feels embarrassment flush his cheeks. He feels oddly sick. He's never intentionally tried to hide his past, but he doesn't like talking about it. He sure as hell doesn't want a vigilante he met for the first time last night knowing about this.

"Tommy!" A voice startles Tommy out of his brooding thoughts. He looks up, meeting the brown eyes of a man named Wilbur. The man is wearing a sweater and jeans, and his hair is being held down by a beanie. He is smiling warmly at Tommy as if he is unaware that Tommy owes him his life. "How is the shoulder wound?"

"It's fine," Tommy cuts out, trying to keep any stray emotions from his conversation with Madeleine and Nymph out of his voice. He does a resounding job. He only sounds annoyed, and Tommy is allowed to blame that annoyance on Wilbur.

"Wound? What are you talking about?" Nymph asks, coming up to stand beside Tommy. She eyes Wilbur warily. Tommy stares at her from the corner of his eyes. He doesn't know what she's so worried about. He would think that she's worried about someone discovering her identity, but it feels more like she's concerned for Tommy's sake. Tommy cannot figure out why, so he ignores the look in her eyes entirely.

"It's nothing-"

"A few nights ago, I went to a convenience store up the street in order to get a drink. I walked in on a masked man shooting up the store. I tried knocking the gun out of the man's hand as he was shooting Tommy. The bullet grazed Tommy's shoulder, but we were able to bandage it in time. I am following up to make sure it isn't infected," Wilbur explains, facing Nymph with his whole body. Tommy glares at him. People have got to stop telling Nymph his business. If she gets caught by the heroes, if they decide to capture her instead of kill her, he does not want his name in her mouth. He also just doesn't like a stranger knowing so much about him.

"This island is falling apart," Nymph grits out, her hands closing into fists. Tommy is a little surprised by the anger in her voice since she's been nothing but kind to him, but he realizes that he shouldn't be too surprised. She became a vigilante, after all, and she must have a lot of determination since she's one of the most famous and capable ones out there.

"I am inclined to agree. Someone needs to start making reforms on this island," Wilbur says, laughing lightly at her anger. There is a strange light in his eyes as he makes this statement. Tommy suddenly feels out of the loop. They are both extremely angry with the state of the island. Tommy has disassociated himself from it all. He is annoyed that his favored store was forced to shut down, but he doesn't have as much anger in his heart as these two do. Tommy rolls his eyes. Maybe Wilbur is secretly a vigilante, too.

"You two can talk politics all you want. I'm fucking hungry," Tommy tells them as he walks around Wilbur. He hears the two of them laugh, and suddenly, he feels their presence right behind him. He expected Nymph to catch up with him later, not for the both of them to join him in his walk to the food trucks. Tommy ignores the way this makes a fluttering warmth fill his body by listening to their conversation. Although they start with talking about the island, their conversation flows like a stream into other subjects. It reminds Tommy of the two-person radio stations he sometimes listens to where the people are talking back and forth about random subjects. Those are some of Tommy's favorites because it makes him feel like he's hanging out with a group of people. He will even add in his own comments, though he never gets a response from the radio hosts.

Tommy is pleasantly surprised when Nymph and Wilbur fall silent for his comment, and they respond to him. Tommy's eyes widen as they start walking right beside him. Tommy tries to get back out of their conversation, but he is roped into it. He ends up huffing, joining in, anyway. After awhile, he finds himself smiling and enjoying it.